It Doesn’t Matter What You Believe, As Long As You’re Sincere

When I was a kid, maybe 7 or 8 years old, I had a yellow felt banner in my room. It had a cartoon drawing of Linus (the Peanuts character) and said: “It doesn’t matter what you believe, as long as you’re sincere.” It was something my parents had picked-up and hung on the wall of the room that also served as a den, sewing room and nursery. I don’t remember seeing the banner after my family moved a few times (though I did find one once on eBay, the source of this photo, but I was outbid). The quote, however, always stuck with me. And the reason for this entry is to explain why I think its meaning has changed over the years.

It doesn’t matter what you believe, as long as you’re sincere.

For decades the most prominent word in that phrase to me was “believe.” Sitting in my room as a kid staring at the banner on the wall, I remember thinking, “of course it matters what you believe! If you believe the wrong thing, it matters a great deal. There is right and there is wrong. There is truth and fiction. There is reality and fantasy. Black and white. And there really aren’t any shades of gray in between. None.”

Reflecting perhaps the safe rigidity of the conservative, religious suburban environment where I grew up, I was convinced if you believe in something, you must believe in the right things. The “what” of the phrase was riveted in my brain. Whether politics, religion or social custom, what you believe is all that matters. Moreover, if someone didn’t believe as you did, they were somehow misguided and should be shown the error of their ways. Life was pretty simple when you had all the answers.

It doesn’t matter what you believe as long as you’re sincere.

But then, far too late perhaps, came a sort of awakening—my own personal renaissance if you will. Is there a right and wrong? Well, yes; but the application of a strict code of moral absolutes doesn’t always fit every situation. The code was up for discussion and (dare I say?) consensus. Maybe there were often multiple solutions to life’s problems. Right was right and truth was still truth, but the owners and definers and purveyors of that truth weren’t as immediately evident as perhaps they had seemed before. Who’s voice should matter most? And when? Essentially, what I thought I believed to be absolute began to bend and twist a bit, and the world of possibilities opened much wider than it had been before. Yes, I discovered, there were shades of gray… and a lot of other colors too.

It doesn’t matter what you believe as long as you’re sincere.

Now, through a very different set of eyes, I read this phrase and the “what” of belief isn’t so important as the “how” embodied in the word “sincere.” The phrase itself has taken on a whole new meaning to me. Sincerity (like kindness and respect and honesty and integrity) means so much more. Who we are and how we treat others is far more important than what we think we know or what we profess to believe.

Which brings me to yet another revelation. If you haven’t yet noticed from many of these blog entries, I am somewhat of a ‘Japanophile.’ I lived in Hyogo Prefecture for two years (decades ago, though it doesn’t seem that long) and absorbed as much of the beauty and richness that are Japan’s natural, artistic and cultural tradition as I could. In particular, I fell in love with the simple, sacred architecture of Shinto shrines, complete with symbols and traditions that permeate nearly every aspect of Japanese life.

Though I wasn’t really able to understand it then, I remember noting how easily many Japanese people seemed to be able to respect the traditional precepts of their cultural Shinto religion while often exploring and practicing other belief systems—including the very Christianity I had come there to promote. Later, as I read more about Shinto philosophy and history, I was impressed with how Shinto focuses on qualities we all seek, like community and patriotism, on working together, on the lessons of the past, and on the best way for all people to get along. And I kept coming upon a familiar word from my past:

Sincere.

There it was, again and again, in the translated writings: “Sincerity.” Or, in Japanese, “Makoto.” Japanese religious traditions—particularly those of the original Shinto philosophies—are replete with teachings about the importance of being sincere. Readily available English translations of Shinto texts, for instance, include fascinating and thought-provoking sayings like:

• A single sincere prayer moves heaven.
• You will surely realize the divine presence through sincere prayer.
• Where you have sincerity, there also is virtue.
• Sincerity is a witness to truth.
• Sincerity is the mother of knowledge.
• Sincerity is a single virtue that binds Divinity and man in one.
• The truly upright is that which flows out of your genuine innermost self as a result of sincerity.
• On all occasions, you must exert sincerity to the utmost, even in the most minor of your activities.
• Courtesy and ritual without sincerity and honesty is mistaken and insufficient. It is like drawing a bow and merely releasing the string blindly without firming your hand, or like trying to move in a boat without an oar.

Sincerity, as many writers note, is the guiding ethical principle of Shinto. Why? I think it’s because the wisdom of the authors of the ancient Shinto texts—and those of any number of similarly-inspired documents throughout history—understood that, no matter what you believe, it’s often “how” you believe that is most important.

It doesn’t matter what you believe as long as you’re sincere.

This realization made me consider lessons should I take from all this. Should I abandon all my beliefs and just try to live a sincere life? That’s when I finally understood what was being said by a simple phrase above a drawing of a cartoon character in a kid’s room in 1968.

Everyone needs to believe in something. The sincere way you choose to practice and demonstrate that belief—and how sincerely you offer others the right and opportunity to do the same—is what will ultimately makes us all part of a truly human family.