My father said that he never could see
the “man in the moon.” The moon's face with it's big crater eyes
and opened mouth that seemed to say “Oh,” had always been so
obvious to me and a welcome sight, so his confession surprised
me—especially since I held my dad to be a supremely thoughtful
person.
I never heard the mention of God or
Jesus or Moses while growing up. Most of my friends belonged to
households with religious affiliations, at least nominally claiming
to be of a particular spiritual persuasion. Not in my home. Yet,
there were strong ethics involving morals and responsibility.
In my nineteenth year, while away at
University, I found myself searching for meaning beyond the
practical, and embarked on a spiritual pursuit, joining the Baha'i Faith. Perhaps my parents were surprised, especially when through the
years my faith deepened.
Throughout every religion are teachings
on how to act in accordance with spiritual wisdom. Most religious
people try and live righteously, with various
degrees of success. Some are outwardly religious but inwardly lazy so
as to make no effort toward benevolence or virtue.
Father always made the effort and could
not tolerate liars or usurpers. As a young adult, after I found
religion, we talked and he admitted that he regarded religion
somewhat like Karl Marx (German, 5 May 1818 – 14 March 1883) did—as the “opiate of the masses.” The
context of the Marx phrase appears in this sentence: "Religion
is the sigh of the oppressed creature, the heart of a heartless
world, just as it is the spirit of a spiritless situation. It is the
opium of the people." Father was determined not to accept unjust
conditions in society. He felt that religion made people accept what
they should not. When so much was being made of Mother Theresa caring
for the destitute in India, taking a vow of poverty, he
scoffed, and insisted her energies would be better used to change the
sick nation so that systemic corruption and oppression were
expunged and a new society with a more wholesome foundation was
created to lift up the masses. Why accept the poverty and not change
the conditions that created it?
Father left this world never having
spoken the word “God,” but in his actions and beliefs living
spiritually. I imagine his delight, when he “met his Maker,” and
before Him, he stood clean, and they looked back at all those he unselfishly helped along the way.
Read here a very good article about my father, written in the Chronicle of Philanthropy:
Richard Boone: a Tireless but Humble Advocate for the Poor