Ha, just kidding. But I was invited to speak at the University of Wyoming today by the Master’s in Fine Arts program.
When I came to campus, I was presented with this building, which made me laugh. It gives the impression that the university is much smaller than it is, and has only one place for classes, which isn’t true. This is the actual name of the place:

They gave me cookies, coffee, and a comfy chair to sit in while I talked about my trip and the future of religion in this country as I saw it.
It wasn’t the biggest showing, only four professors and three students. But it was fun.
I was very nervous, and when I’m nervous I babble. I had talked for an hour and 15 minutes, barely taking a breath. They said they enjoyed it.
Afterward, a religion professor started asking me questions about how I view religion. Do I endorse Durkheim or Weber? How about Foucault? Do I define religion by burial rituals, supernatural beings, creation stories?
I looked like a raccoon caught with a flashlight. My friend, Christina, started guffawing.
“He’s a journalist, not an academic!” she cried.
It’s true. I report. But I also evaluate, just like academics. And that’s the tough part, as always.
I’m not going to go into the tired old rag of the meaning of journalistic objectivity. It’s an ideal, not a perfection. After all, how many journalists turn into columnists?
So what’s the difference between an academic and a journalist? Not too much. Like many things, the lines are blurred. You could say that academics deal with the history, the journalists with the present. Or that journalists create the puzzle pieces and the academics put them together. Or, as many say, that journalists report and academics interpret.
But there are counterpoints to all of that, and I get tired of talking about it.
And that’s why I don’t really define religion too distinctly. Religion, faith, spirit, tradition, God – they all mean different things to different people, and that’s why I’m on this trip. To see how people define and express themselves religiously.
But I have to interpret somewhere. I have to draw lines to frame what I see, otherwise it’d just be a hodgepodge on a page. And how would I know where to go and who to see if I ha no definition at all?
Many ask me why I include Buddhists, Scientologists, and other on this blog who don’t necessarily define themselves as a “religion,” but rather a “path” or a “way of life” or another synonym. Basically, it’s because they fit my most basic criteria:
1) They deal with the intangible, invisible, unprovable reality of the world.
2) They have stories about why we are here, and what we should do in the world.
3) They believe in powers or presences greater than or beyond us.
So even if they don’t call themselves “religions,” I still include them. Besides, I think some people are generally just hesitant to use the word “religion” for reasons beyond dictionary definitions.
The term seems stodgy, a relic of old traditions that have reputations, at least in some people’s eyes, of oppression and stagnation. Americans like to innovate. We’re a unique country. While modern Europe seems to be seeking freedom from religion, America is different. We’re a country built on freedom for religion.
And when Americans create new expressions of faith, the term “religion” turns some off. But a rose by any other name…


