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Growing up in a devout Catholic community, my worldview was generally quite limited. My hometown is only five-miles in radius, but it manages to fit over three Catholic, two Baptist, and one Methodist church. Because of that, Catholicism wasn’t just a religion to me, but it felt more like home. For my Religion in the United States class this semester, we were tasked with visiting a denomination to which we had never interacted. I was excited to take on the assignment because, since coming to college, I have been on a long journey to find Faith that was entirely my own. The city of Louisville resembles a vibrant urban melting pot, offering everything from Judaism and Islam to Sikhism and Hinduism. Yet, my exploration has been limited to Catholicism and Christianity- faiths that “feel like home”, yet remain colored by the wounds of my childhood. So, this assignment felt like the perfect excuse to break out of that familiar routine and push my comfort zone, while also learning more about this city and its history.
A Doctoral Dissertation a University of Louisville student completed for their Master's in 1921, titled, History of the churches of Louisville with special reference to slavery, articulated a deep connection of Louisville’s rise from a log cabin settlement to a robust urban oasis because of these religious forces. Homer E. Wickenden noted that “It is impossible to measure the moral and religious force that [churches] have exerted on the city. It can best be appreciated when one thinks of what the city would be without them. Few of us would care to live in such a city.” From all the time spent in religion classes and learning from people who think very deeply and very differently about religion, I have come to realize that churches are more than just a place to
congregate and worship.
While this blog is my written rendition of a religious experience completed for a
participation credit, I often found myself being drawn back to the question- why is this
important? For starters, today, any assignment I am given in my higher education career where I
am encouraged to step away from my computer and experience something holds a value in my
heart. But also, most of the classes and seminars I attend have incorporated contemporary issues
to real world application. We often talk about society's greatest challenges, find solutions, and as
our time is up, we step back into the unchanged world, feeling a little more helpless each time.
However, out of this mundane worldview that most young people feel today, two of the most
profound lessons I have learned are that culture is upstream to politics, and without community,
we have nothing.
In a Hardin for Louisville opinion piece by Tricia Youell titled, The Intersection of
Religion and Politics in Louisville, KY, she highlights the intersection of religious cultures in our
local politics. For Youell, she sees religion as a driving force for our politicians, specifically.
“Many politicians openly identify as religious and use their faith to guide their policies and
decisions. For example, Mayor Greg Fischer is a devout Catholic who often speaks about how
his faith influences his leadership style. Religious organizations also play a crucial role in local
politics through their involvement in social and community issues. The Catholic Church in
Louisville, for instance, has been vocal in advocating for immigration reform and providing
support to refugees and immigrants in the city. Similarly, the Southern Baptist Convention has
been actively involved in promoting traditional family values and opposing same-sex marriage
legislation. Moreover, religious groups have a strong presence in grassroots political movements
in Louisville.” These particularly devout public figures have not historically tried to hide their
beliefs because the organizations themselves mobilize their members to support specific
candidates or issues, making them a powerful force during elections.
To my second profound lesson learned, Robert D. Putnam’s data-driven novel, Bowling
Alone, argues that American community life has significantly declined over the last several
decades. Participation in clubs, political activist groups, and athletic recreation teams, or what he
refers to as “social capital”, is just not visible anymore. I was first introduced to this book last
spring when Secretary of State and former McConnell Scholar, Michael Adams, came to the
McConnell Center to speak in our “Why You Should Read __ Series”. In our discussion,
everyone was in agreement that the innovation of technology and our generational dependence
on our devices are the reasons for this. When we see our communities diminish or we lose this
social capital, we see a crisis of humanity. Despite the feeling of impending doom many of us are
plagued with, the call to action is always “find a way to reconnect”.
In an effort to take this first step in reconnecting with my community, I chose to attend
the Drepung Gomang Center for Engaged Compassion Dharma Center. While I was raised
Catholic, I have loosely interacted with other denominations like Islamic, Christian, and Baptist
churches. However, this was one religion that I have not been involved with, nor did I know
much of anything about their practices. The Dharma Center in Louisville was a selected host of
the Palden Drepung Tashi Gomang Monastic University Monastery in India. When being given
this role, it is considered a high honor to represent and spread the word of Bodhichitta as a path
of enlightenment.
On Sunday, March 29th, I drove about thirty minutes outside of Louisville for the
Center’s 10:00 am service. When I arrived, I was greeted by their community coordinator, and
she guided me through the Center, instructed me to leave my personal belongings at the door,
and walked me through their scripture book. The actual service itself began with a short
meditation, ritual chants, and then lessons on the death of the old version of yourself for a life of
enlightenment. We discussed the process after you submit yourself to Bodhichitta, and how it is a
lifelong path of mental discipline, maintaining a strong work ethic, and a constant search for
wisdom. While these core principles focus on the individual self, I found it interesting that the
teachings were all rooted in compassion, Earthly reverence, and nonviolence education for the
Louisville community. If I understood correctly, their lessons are set around the idea that you
must be more in touch with yourself in order to serve your community and this Earth better.
Ultimately, I didn't leave the Center in the midst of a religious existential crisis (a feeling
that I have struggled with throughout my life) but rather feeling more grounded in myself and my
community. As I noted earlier, religions in Louisville act as “pocket oases” that don't just exist
within our neighborhoods, but they serve as a backbone for communal life. When we witness a
decline in civic participation, religious communities often provide the answer because they act as
a driving force in the lives of their members. Fundamentally, this was an assignment for credit,
but at its core, it is about finding compassion and community in the pockets of your life you least
expect it. I could continue throughout my life, learning prolific ways to solve the world's
problems, but those efforts mean nothing without action. I am grateful for the opportunity to
engage with an unfamiliar tradition and walk away as a better neighbor. If the solution to our
modern challenges is to reconnect with one another, this experience felt like a meaningful first
step in a lifelong practice.
Kathleen is a McConnell Scholar at the University of Louisville in the class of 2027. She is studying political science on a pre-law track.