[EDIT: I've said all of this before. I just thought I'd try to get it down as one post so I could save it for myself. It actually worked.]
Ax, that rings fairly true for me.
I realized that I don't think I could believe in any religion at this point in my life that required I believe in the historical accuracy of a particular religious text, or indeed, any text.
Indeed. I came to this realization after taking a college course as a junior entitled, "Religion and History of Ancient Israel." Suffice it to say that at the time, I was a person so different that probably none of you would have "recognized" me - or at least, my views. This was during the period I was seriously interested in conversion to modern Orthodox Judaism, and though still a feminist and grappling (unsuccessfully) with their notions of the genders as "separate but equal," I had accepted most of their other tenets as valid, experimentally speaking. So, I signed up for this class - taught by, of all things, a convert to Judaism - and expected (perhaps understandably, given not just my
religious mentality, but my
would-be convert's mentality (often a much more fanatical thing)) that it would use the Torah as its prime source of history, and teach me about the historical antecedents of Judaism...religiously speaking.
Imagine my surprise when I discovered that the university didn't consider itself to be a conservative synagogue, and the professor insisted on teaching us about liberal elitist scholarship (e.g. "archaeological research") that often contradicted the Torah - or at the least, interpreted it differently than does traditional Judaism.
Essentially, I made a complete ass of myself, insisting on using the Artscroll Tanach (Orthodox version), citing its footnotes in class (and after class...and during office hours...) to argue with the professor, and answering exams under protest ("Well, the Tanach, which is unfailingly correct, says X, but assuming for the sake of argument that the archeological evidence is right, the answer would be Y." My prof, fortunately, had a sense of humor, and would respond, "Assuming for the sake of argument that you are saying the answer is Y, your grade would be an A.")
Once I shook myself out of that fanatical, nonsensical religious reverie, I felt scared by how easy it had been to place myself in the mindset of believing something just because a book said it was true. How easy, to say that a book was right and even if all the evidence in the world said otherwise, all the evidence in the world would be wrong. Why? Because God gave us the book. And what was the proof of that? The book said God did. The biggest problem? Often, we are not faced with "all the evidence in the world" - we are faced with "some evidence" that has "some credibility" that speaks to the accuracy of ancient texts. Now, a thinking person not under the sway of an extreme religious ideology will be able to give it "some weight" - but one who was as committed to an Orthodox mentality as I was experimenting with being would refuse to credit it. I realized that for me, subscription to Orthodoxy was tantamount to saying, "This text is true, LALALALALALALALALALA I CAN'T HEAR YOU" (to anyone who offered evidence that it was not the unfailing, complete Word of God.)
In other words,
for me, belief in the historical accuracy of any text amounts to a commitment to turn off my capacity for rational thought when confronted with evidence that challenges that text. And I am unwilling to make that commitment to any religion for any reason.
The immediate rejoinder is, "Well, you do not have to believe in the
historical accuracy of the text; you could choose to embrace the spiritual or metaphorical components of the text." Ah. But (I might be channeling TED here, not sure) then, I feel as though I am a consumer in the marketplace of religion, being offered so many varied and wonderful and utterly contradictory options as to fantastic (i.e. you MUST take them on faith, or not at all) happenings and theologies and occurrences and people. Why pick one? Either they are all wrong, they are all right (in a metaphorical sense), or one is right and the rest are wrong. Or there is some sense in which they can all coexist that we will understand at some later time, but that is not apparent to us given the limitations of the human mind.
Basically,
I haven't heard from God - either that God exists at all, or that one of these religious options is, as we say, true and correct. So, unless I myself hear an endorsement from God, then I choose to decline to "place my faith" in any fantastic belief, as I have no way to tell which one (if any) is correct. Most faiths assert that they are right and exclusively so, which is, quite frankly, very tiresome - so I have decided only to explore those faiths which refrain from doing so.
And why explore any faith at all? Well, my declining to believe in
any fantastic belief means that I decline all views as to an afterlife (while remaining generically open to the possibility that one exists, and that it can be fun to theorize about). So, for me there is no point to exploring religion with a view to saving my immortal soul (which I actually don't consider to need saving merely by virtue of its infinite fallibility). My interest in religion merely springs from the normative view that it is good to try to do good...and that perhaps religion is a tool that can help me to do more than I would do on my own. (For instance, the Jewish concept of tikkun olam will spring into my head daily, and helps me to reduce the ways in which I act thoughtlessly towards others (although that's still very much a work in progress.))
So here we come to my identification with your second notion - the grocery store. The marketplace of religion. Truthfully, walking into the marketplace is a little overwhelming - kind of like walking into an upscale shopping mall where people are trying to sell you $2500 designer pants (Exclusive Truth In This Life and The Next) when you just want a $50 pair of jeans (Tool to Help Me Act Better Towards People Today.)
I admit to feeling very put off - almost violated in some sense - when people tell me that Their Truth is also My Truth. As though they'd dragged me into their store, tried to force the designer pants on me, taken my credit card, and swiped it, while I was just trying to get out the "But I REALLY don't like your pants."
I know about as much about cooking as I do about finding even my own truth to religion, which is to say NONE. But even if I end up going to the grocery store, purchasing ingredients, and then destroying them in something entirely inedible...at least it's my journey (towards spending less on takeout?), it's my life, and it's my attempt to find (or make) something that I will find real and tasty.
Um, apparently that metaphor hit a bit too close to home in the literal sense. But the point is, in the figurative sense, the grocery store approach works for me. Even if eating out constantly is more tasty and convenient (okay, getting too caught up in the metaphor again), I have to keep trying to learn how to cook. I want to meet my own RDA for spiritual nutrition, not to pick up some readymade dish that someone else cooks up, places in front of me, and tells me that all I have to do is eat. For me, that's the only way it will be authentic.
Just believe (or eat) and you will be saved/fulfilled/made whole/more happy?
No thanks, I've got some greens to burn on my stove tonight.