Theology Under Construction

After traveling to and from physics, having learned that science isn’t truth, physics isn’t reality, and the nature of time is still very distant from our comprehension, I reached theology. (Read original article in Spanish)

By Mirla Leal/ translated by Sue Burke/Foto por: Vineet Menon. Nataraja at Cern. C.C Licence

To know why the world is as it is: this has piqued my curiosity since I was a child. I was also attracted to mythologies that I now know are separated by a rather diffuse line from religions. Eventually I was inclined toward astronomy, which in adolescence brought me to physics. My environment tipped the scales. Cuba was experiencing a period of extreme hostility to religion that crushed a belief in any type of transcendence and imposed an ideology imported from the Soviet Union that, despite our Caribbean heat and the massive fervor of our people, always proved cold and distant. With time and a transformation in my social milieu, the environment changed.

After traveling to and from physics, having learned that science isn’t truth, physics isn’t reality, and the nature of time is still very distant from our comprehension, I reached theology.

To my surprise – or perhaps not – I discovered that theology functions much like science, although it still can’t bridge the gap to experimentation, systematization, or the socialization of experience … yet. However, even though it might not express itself overtly, we understand what it says because in some way we have lived through similar experiences.

So far in my brief study of different theologies and of religion in general, Jainism has especially captured my attention. Perhaps more than a religious faith, a philosophy, or a way of life, Jainism teaches the relativity of truth – in other words, the impossibility of a single interpretation for things, events, and reality. This idea has remained practically buried under the march of human history, and dominant religions have continued to claim they possess the truth, the only possible truth, which should therefore be universally accepted.

Although Shiva, destroyer and restorer, my preferred conceptualization of God, dazzled me at first, due to my location and perhaps my family’s tradition, which they tried to hide to protect me from problems at school, the religion with which I’ve had the most interaction

is Christianity, specifically Roman Catholicism. A little over a year ago I attended a conference by José María Vigil about religious pluralism, and I was fascinated. Within the Roman Catholic Church, questions have lately arisen over whether Christianity can be the only possibility. Could Jesus have been the only universal savior among all the possible civilizations in our vast galaxy?

But this road must be traveled by the Roman Catholic Church. I know that God would not give a single message to such a diverse world. Revelation is continuous, personal and at the same time shared. God’s message lies beneath all different faiths, and in art and science. There is no one road. Perhaps all roads are valid even though not all are well-traveled.

God, the All-Encompassing, the Universal Conscience – whatever name we choose – is one for all beings. Our perception varies, filtered by our cultural environments and the individual experiences of one or several lives. Our interaction with the transcendent is varied.

It’s curious that I hadn’t heard about Unitarian Universalists earlier. I should have at least seen it in the Wikipedia page about Tim Berners-Lee, who invented the World Wide Web. One day I was wandering, pseudo-drifting through the internet, when I found an article called “Does Siri Believe in God?” That’s where I learned about Unitarianism. A Google search and I found Unitarian Universalism, compatible with my theology, and which I lean toward. We all know what they say, when the student is ready, a teacher will appear, and my teacher has been my experience in the world, life, and community.

My theology is still under construction. Won’t it always be?