You’re right – it’s a crutch
A common-enough jibe is that religion (or faith) is “just a crutch”, needed only by the weak-minded.
For the last few weeks, I’ve been thinking about walking sticks and their uses. I’ve spent a bit of time making one or two, just to give my thinking a bit of substance. I don’t have much in the way of tools, and I have even fewer skills, but even so I’m quite pleased with the results.
During the early life of the scout movement, a hiking staff was part of the official uniform of scouts. Baden-Powell, scoutings founder, believed that the staff was an essentially piece of equipment which served a moral (his word) as well as a practical function. It served to remind the scout that life is a journey of discovery in which it is important and necessary “to turn up right and keep straight on”.
Taking a good stick when going for a walk is not a sign of weakness. I was certainly glad of mine when descending Ben Nevis this summer. Or perhaps it would be better to say that carrying a walking stick is the proper preparation for those times when you’re not able to walk unaided and there’s no shame in admitting that.
In any case, I’ve come to the conclusion that yes, my faith is a type of crutch. Sometimes I’ve had to lean on it pretty hard. The values on which my faith is founded provide a framework (I know, shifting the metaphor!) for my life and I am happy to acknowledge it.
If I had more time, I might go a bit further and argue that everyone, whether “religious” or not, has a set of values and principles on which their life is based. Those principles may be unnamed, even unacknowledged, but they’re definitely there. Everyone needs a crutch sometime.
So yes, my faith is a crutch. What’s the problem with that?
