Religion ramblings

I think about religion more than most Duke students. Becoming a religion major, I unknowingly signed on for a lifetime in Grey, complete with Chapel views and the more than occasional bell tolling. It's great though; I know which seat I like in every classroom, which bathrooms are the best and the fastest way to get down to the Refectory. I also have more than enough time between classes that meet in the same room to stare at the Chapel and just think.

I think about how annoying it has become to tell someone I'm a religion major, knowing that it will elicit one of several frustrating responses: "So are you like, really religious?" "What religion are you?" and a personal favorite, "What's a religion major doing at a party like this?" My answer to that one? Taking names. Conversation over.

I generally have a trusty response on hand, some line about studying religion academically, you know, the same way people study history. But people always want to talk about it, to tell me their opinion on religion and the state of the world. And why does it matter what religion I am? I'm just the one studying it. Of course, I indulge them: Jewish. And no, not too religious. Happy now? I know I don't need to be so resentful, but I feel like as a religion major I've become some kind of target for unsolicited opinions, that I've opened some secret door and freed everyone's inner pundit.

Religion is important. That's why I study it: because it's at the root of every civilization, every war and every conflict. Yet it's become taboo almost, something people don't discuss so as not to be rude or politically incorrect. Outside of my classes, religion rarely comes up in conversation, and if it does it's to make fun of someone or prey on a stereotype. Sure, we're in college, but we should at least be attempting to open a dialogue about one of the most significant forces in the world right now.

So that's what I'm going to do. I want to talk about religion-about yours and mine and someone else's-and I want to learn. There are more than 25 religious life groups represented on campus, and I want to know about all of them. I will go to your services and meet with your leaders and listen to anything you tell me. So much happens on this campus every day that it's almost impossible to keep track of the student organizations that don't always make headlines. I will spend this semester experiencing the depths of religious activity at Duke, and I'm going to tell you all about it.

I probably am a bit of a religion freak. Not a religious freak, make no mistake, just an actively interested individual. The fact that I'm writing this in the reference room of the Divinity School library might support that assessment. For those who don't frequent this library as often as I apparently do, it's a long, narrow room with wooden tables and creaky chairs arranged like church pews. It's always silent, no matter how many people are here, and I sometimes wonder if we shouldn't stop working and start praying or something. In this strange solitude, I type furiously, excited about my new adventure.

Why am I doing this? I'm not trying to proselytize or convert you, or tell you that everything about religion is perfect and all you have to do is believe and your life will be great. I don't want to save you, I just want to bring religion out into the open and let you read about it here on campus. An introduction, simple and non-committal, to the many diverse faiths whose members call Duke home. After that you can go back to reading about rockets flying across Gaza and roadside bombs in Baghdad. And maybe we'll all realize that we're not as enlightened and far removed as we like to think we are.

After all the nice notes that I've taken and everything I've learned in class, it's time to leave Grey building and take my experience to the next level: the quad. As much as I think I know about any faith, including my own, witnessing traditions firsthand and getting to know the students involved will undoubtedly change my perspective. Who knows? It could even change yours, too.