Taking the Road ‘Less Traveled by’ Has Made ‘All the Difference’

Taking the Road ‘Less Traveled by’ Has Made ‘All the Difference’

Commentary by Pete Haug | FāVS News

One of my most memorable evenings occurred in 1959 at a small auditorium in Boston. After standing long in a line for tickets, I entered the brick structure to find both downstairs and balcony overflowing. I sat with others on the worn wooden balcony steps, undoubtedly violating multiple fire laws.

The intimate stage, illuminated by overhead lights, was bare except for a table and chair. The speaker entered to enthusiastic applause. His craggy features were crowned by a shock of white hair enhancing the gray of his suit. He looked hewn from the granite of New Hampshire, where had lived and written. He carried an anthology of poems.

Robert Frost was there to read to us.

After speaking briefly about his poetry and life, he invited audience members to call out titles they’d like him to read. As he introduced each poem, it was hard to know when commentary ended and his reading began. I’d heard recordings of Frost, but being able to see and hear him was unforgettable, even now, after some 65 years.

In “The Road not Taken,” a favorite of mine, Frost’s narrator begins, “Two roads diverged in a yellow wood … ” The narrator then contemplates alternative possibilities, pondering which pathway to take, before choosing his direction. He concludes:

“I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood and I —

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.”

A road taken

I was raised Episcopalian, but I departed organized religion at age 17. One Sunday morning in church I could no longer repeat the Apostles’ Creed, couldn’t make it past, “I believe … ” I didn’t believe, and I figured by saying it rote with everyone else, I was lying to them and to myself. If God existed, he knew what I believed — or didn’t. That decision began my embarkation down the road “that has made all the difference.”

Twelve years of agnosticism reinforced my opinions of religion in general and Christianity in particular. To my many questions no clear, convincing or authoritative answers were forthcoming. One Episcopal bishop pinpointed my dilemma. He had been my father’s fraternity brother at the same college I was attending. While there, he’d been called “Bish” by friends. 

Visiting his alma mater on business, Bish had set aside a Saturday evening at the fraternity for an informal discussion. Poor guy! I hammered him with questions way past midnight, questions about religion and the existence of God. The last thing he told me as we parted was, “You believe in God as much as I do, but I leave you at the church door.” It took years for that insightful observation to seep into my consciousness. My respect for Bish’s wisdom continues to grow.

Nonetheless I honed my agnosticism, becoming increasingly skeptical and cynical about organized religion, particularly its effect on a worsening world. Though I loved singing hymns and sacred music, I remained closed-minded and judgmental about religion. Theology and sermons turned me off. But how could I keep from singing? Few persons still living have sung Mozart’s “Requiem Mass” for bicentenary commemorations (1956 and 1991) of both Mozart’s birth and his death. I have, loving every memorable magical musical moment!

Softening resistance

After flunking out of college and serving two years in the army, I began anew at a different college. One of my roommates, Dave, was a Baha’i. I’d never heard of it. He explained that, “Baha’is believe all religions come from the same source.” Made sense to me, but I wanted none of it.

Five years later, Dave was best man at my wedding to Jolie. I asked him to send us literature about the Baha’i Faith. Jolie and I soon began attending Baha’i informational meetings. She became a Baha’i in 1963. I resisted for two more years before accepting Baha’u’llah.

What changed my mind?

Societies advance. Exacting “an eye for an eye” is no longer socially acceptable. Civilizations evolve through discoveries that improve human lives. Such discoveries require new models of thinking, models that recognize humanity’s global interdependencies. Our human genome demonstrates humankind’s oneness; this requires us to revise outmoded cultural norms, such as gender inequality, that divide us.

In 1890, Baha’u’llah alluded to these concepts, telling a visiting orientalist, “We desire but the good of the world and happiness of the nations … That all nations should become one in faith and all men as brothers; that the bonds of affection and unity between the sons of men should be strengthened; that diversity of religion should cease, and differences of race be annulled — what harm is there in this? … these fruitless strifes, these ruinous wars shall pass away, and the ‘Most Great Peace’ shall come.”

Traveling this less-traveled pathway has, for me, made all the difference.

The views expressed in this opinion column are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of FāVS News. FāVS News values diverse perspectives and thoughtful analysis on matters of faith and spirituality.