Sitting a little with the Sunday gospel we have today, Luke's parables of the lost things--the lost sheep, the lost coin, the two lost brothers--I got to thinking on various things. The first was 'seeking.' In Lumen fidei our holy fathers Francis and Benedict spoke a lot about those who 'seek God.' I remember that in the days before I decided to declare myself a 'catechumen'--what vainglorious ignorance to think it worked like that!--one of the labels I learned and which I applied to myself was 'spiritual seeker.' I guess it meant that you were looking for something, though you weren't yet sure what it was.
Showing posts with label Atheism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Atheism. Show all posts
September 15, 2013
December 27, 2011
Christmas, Atheism, and Power
Reflecting on Christmas, and especially our Holy Father's Christmas homily in which St. Francis plays such a part, I've been thinking about contemporary disbelief in God and how maybe it relates to our wrong ideas of power.
Perhaps part of what makes it so hard for folks to believe in God--and even for us religious folks, sometimes, to act as if he exists--is that we are confused about power. God is the Almighty; he is the infinite creative power that made the heavens and the earth and sustains all things in being. And yet, when the Almighty God is revealed to us, what do we get? First, a baby born not only in an obscure place but away from home, to plain parents, and into an ethnic group that was--at least at that time--historically important by no accepted standard. Second, a tortured and convicted criminal being executed on the cross. Christ crucified could not even move his hands and feet, much less control anything or make anybody do anything. And yet these are the privileged revelations of the all-powerful, Almighty God.
Perhaps when we talk about power we are too often talking about what is really the abuse of power, the leverage or ability to manipulate and coerce, to make others conform to our will, to co-opt others into the disorders of our hearts and the futility of our sins.
In Jesus Christ the highest power is revealed as self-emptying humility. If we were to come to really understand and practice our own wills to power in this way, maybe it would be easier to believe in God. Indeed, perhaps God would become as self-evident as he necessarily must be.
Not that it's easy. To embrace the true power revealed in humility is hard on the flesh, which has lusted for the violent domination of others ever since Cain killed his own brother. The crown of thorns cuts and digs when we put it on. But is the crown of the true royalty of this world, of those who bear the real power that is the only source of peace.
Perhaps part of what makes it so hard for folks to believe in God--and even for us religious folks, sometimes, to act as if he exists--is that we are confused about power. God is the Almighty; he is the infinite creative power that made the heavens and the earth and sustains all things in being. And yet, when the Almighty God is revealed to us, what do we get? First, a baby born not only in an obscure place but away from home, to plain parents, and into an ethnic group that was--at least at that time--historically important by no accepted standard. Second, a tortured and convicted criminal being executed on the cross. Christ crucified could not even move his hands and feet, much less control anything or make anybody do anything. And yet these are the privileged revelations of the all-powerful, Almighty God.
Perhaps when we talk about power we are too often talking about what is really the abuse of power, the leverage or ability to manipulate and coerce, to make others conform to our will, to co-opt others into the disorders of our hearts and the futility of our sins.
In Jesus Christ the highest power is revealed as self-emptying humility. If we were to come to really understand and practice our own wills to power in this way, maybe it would be easier to believe in God. Indeed, perhaps God would become as self-evident as he necessarily must be.
Not that it's easy. To embrace the true power revealed in humility is hard on the flesh, which has lusted for the violent domination of others ever since Cain killed his own brother. The crown of thorns cuts and digs when we put it on. But is the crown of the true royalty of this world, of those who bear the real power that is the only source of peace.
October 17, 2011
Lapsed Atheist
The other day I saw someone on Google+ who described himself as a 'lapsed atheist.' I found the term a little fascinating, and I was reflecting on it as I walked home from Mass at the Poor Clares this morning.
I guess we tend to think of the theist as the one who makes assertions and claims, while the atheist does not. In other words, in our somewhat godless society, atheism is the default position. To confess God is to make claims that are alternative, and indeed rebellious.
In fact, however, this is a false imagination. Even though many of us religious people operate under it all the time, it is atheistic in its presumptions.
Atheism is, in fact, a very strong sort of claim or set of claims. Often it is based on an appeal to reason, though taking great (and ultimately useless) pains to avoid the intuition that the very reasonableness of the cosmos and the ability of our minds to interface with it through our own reason have been ordinary paths to the intuition of Reason itself, and the great religious intuition that this Reason is not a what, but a benevolent Who.
To be a theist, on the other hand, is just to surrender to the actuality of things, and I mean 'actuality' in all of its metaphysical force and theological richness.
So I like the idea of a 'lapsed atheist' and I'm thinking of adopting the language for myself. It suggests that the position of faith or the confession of God is not some sort of claim or set of claims that are adopted in a positive way, but simply an admission of what is and surrender to its implications.
In other words, the religious person is not someone who has become special by adopting some extraordinary outlook or worldview, but someone who has become ordinary by just accepting things as they are. We must never let ourselves become, in so many subtle ways, the Pharisee who thanked God that he was not like other men.
May I lapse from my atheism today. Amen.
I guess we tend to think of the theist as the one who makes assertions and claims, while the atheist does not. In other words, in our somewhat godless society, atheism is the default position. To confess God is to make claims that are alternative, and indeed rebellious.
In fact, however, this is a false imagination. Even though many of us religious people operate under it all the time, it is atheistic in its presumptions.
Atheism is, in fact, a very strong sort of claim or set of claims. Often it is based on an appeal to reason, though taking great (and ultimately useless) pains to avoid the intuition that the very reasonableness of the cosmos and the ability of our minds to interface with it through our own reason have been ordinary paths to the intuition of Reason itself, and the great religious intuition that this Reason is not a what, but a benevolent Who.
To be a theist, on the other hand, is just to surrender to the actuality of things, and I mean 'actuality' in all of its metaphysical force and theological richness.
So I like the idea of a 'lapsed atheist' and I'm thinking of adopting the language for myself. It suggests that the position of faith or the confession of God is not some sort of claim or set of claims that are adopted in a positive way, but simply an admission of what is and surrender to its implications.
In other words, the religious person is not someone who has become special by adopting some extraordinary outlook or worldview, but someone who has become ordinary by just accepting things as they are. We must never let ourselves become, in so many subtle ways, the Pharisee who thanked God that he was not like other men.
May I lapse from my atheism today. Amen.
June 9, 2010
Unliftable Objects and Crucified Lords
This morning I am asked to say something about something called the "Hawking Conundrum," which is alleged to prove the non-existence of God, or at least the absurdity of the idea of God. This distinction matters, as we shall see. The problem was delivered to me in this form:
Of course this is not a new problem.
I doubt that my response--I dare not call it an answer--will satisfy atheists, and perhaps it will satisfy believers still less. It's hardly even satisfying to me and involves theological questions within which I am still searching myself (thank God!) So if you think you will be annoyed by an unsatisfying answer, stop reading now.
I suspect that the presentation of this problem does not produce many sudden conversions to atheism. Perhaps more often it causes the discomfort of doubt or the increase of questioning. Neither of these are enemies of faith, however, but friends that are hard to recognize. I suspect an atheist reacts in a similar way when presented with something like St. Anselm's "Ontological Argument" for the existence of God. I have heard of a few conversions, but mostly the simple inability to find fault with the logic does not induce conversion.
My simple answer--and here is where it will become unsatisfying--is that God's omnipotence just doesn't work like that. Let's say that later on today I allow my own fatigue and the despair I bring upon myself with my sins to overwhelm me. I drive my car up the Saw Mill Parkway to the Tappan Zee Bridge, park in the middle, and jump off. What will happen? Surely it is God's will that I live and flourish and be happy, but all of that will be over as I hit the water and die. So, at least on the spiritual level, God has made an object (me) so heavy that he cannot, or at least will not, lift it to safety.
This is exactly why St. Paul called Christ crucified a scandal to Jews (i.e. believers) and an absurdity to Greeks (i.e. believers in human wisdom.) And it remains so. Believers are annoyed to hear about the God of Jesus Christ who, apparently, refuses to control the world or intervene in the suffering we bring upon ourselves in anything like a heavy-handed way. Atheists--and this is the logical force of the conundrum--complain that this God doesn't seem very intelligible as a deity.
What does it mean to say that the omnipotent God is revealed as a condemned and tortured criminal in the midst of his execution, not being able to move his hands and feet, much less lift infinitely heavy objects? It means, at least, that omnipotence and almighty-ness as divine attributes are not exactly what they are supposed to mean, prima facie, to us human beings.
Nevertheless, I am lifted up. When I received Holy Communion this morning, that same Christ crucified continued to unite himself to me precisely in my own brokenness and the misery, despair, and confusion I have brought upon myself with my sins. It's not that Christ has taken me, an infinitely offensive and heavy object, and lifted me up from above, but that he has pushed me up from below by descending into my powerlessness and weakness. With the strength of knowing this salvation, I will not have to struggle this afternoon with the temptation to jump off the Tappan Zee Bridge. And it is my prayer and hope that it also gives me the strength to avoid all of the other little suicides of sin.
Please follow this link for a follow-up post.
Assuming that God is the God of the Judeo-Christian-Islamic tradition (which is to say both omniscient and omnipotent), can He create an object so heavy that He can't lift it?
The conundrum creates a logical impossibility, as follows:
If the answer be 'yes' (because God can create anything), than God cannot be omnipotent because He cannot then move the object; and if the answer be 'no' (because God can move anything), than God cannot be omnioptent because He Cannot create such an object. It follows logically that since God is not omnipotent, He is not God.
Of course this is not a new problem.
I doubt that my response--I dare not call it an answer--will satisfy atheists, and perhaps it will satisfy believers still less. It's hardly even satisfying to me and involves theological questions within which I am still searching myself (thank God!) So if you think you will be annoyed by an unsatisfying answer, stop reading now.
I suspect that the presentation of this problem does not produce many sudden conversions to atheism. Perhaps more often it causes the discomfort of doubt or the increase of questioning. Neither of these are enemies of faith, however, but friends that are hard to recognize. I suspect an atheist reacts in a similar way when presented with something like St. Anselm's "Ontological Argument" for the existence of God. I have heard of a few conversions, but mostly the simple inability to find fault with the logic does not induce conversion.
My simple answer--and here is where it will become unsatisfying--is that God's omnipotence just doesn't work like that. Let's say that later on today I allow my own fatigue and the despair I bring upon myself with my sins to overwhelm me. I drive my car up the Saw Mill Parkway to the Tappan Zee Bridge, park in the middle, and jump off. What will happen? Surely it is God's will that I live and flourish and be happy, but all of that will be over as I hit the water and die. So, at least on the spiritual level, God has made an object (me) so heavy that he cannot, or at least will not, lift it to safety.
This is exactly why St. Paul called Christ crucified a scandal to Jews (i.e. believers) and an absurdity to Greeks (i.e. believers in human wisdom.) And it remains so. Believers are annoyed to hear about the God of Jesus Christ who, apparently, refuses to control the world or intervene in the suffering we bring upon ourselves in anything like a heavy-handed way. Atheists--and this is the logical force of the conundrum--complain that this God doesn't seem very intelligible as a deity.
What does it mean to say that the omnipotent God is revealed as a condemned and tortured criminal in the midst of his execution, not being able to move his hands and feet, much less lift infinitely heavy objects? It means, at least, that omnipotence and almighty-ness as divine attributes are not exactly what they are supposed to mean, prima facie, to us human beings.
Nevertheless, I am lifted up. When I received Holy Communion this morning, that same Christ crucified continued to unite himself to me precisely in my own brokenness and the misery, despair, and confusion I have brought upon myself with my sins. It's not that Christ has taken me, an infinitely offensive and heavy object, and lifted me up from above, but that he has pushed me up from below by descending into my powerlessness and weakness. With the strength of knowing this salvation, I will not have to struggle this afternoon with the temptation to jump off the Tappan Zee Bridge. And it is my prayer and hope that it also gives me the strength to avoid all of the other little suicides of sin.
Please follow this link for a follow-up post.
May 20, 2010
Theism
These days I've been in an email conversation with an old friend who is one of the most sensible and brightest people I know. He's also an atheist, and so we are able to have honest and intriguing talks about God and faith and practice. I wanted to share some of one of my emails:
The question of a/theism intrigues me these days, even more so after working as a parish priest for a few years. Some of my colleagues imagine that we are in a struggle with atheism, but for me I'm not so sure of this. My diagnosis is that many people, both religious and not, seem to have absorbed an image or idea of God which isn't credible, and sometimes isn't even attractive. So of course they become 'practical atheists,' because there is nothing compelling or lovely in the idea of God they think they are supposed to believe in.
To me the standard question of theism, 'Do you believe in God?' doesn't even seem to work anymore. Of course I believe God, in the sense that I believe what he has revealed about himself, but to believe in God seems too suggestive of God as some kind of object or some-thing that is sitting some-where waiting for me to assent to his existence. To me God is too immanent for all that. Indeed I think this is precisely the message of Christianity; that God has abandoned everything it ought to mean to be God on our human terms (i.e. honor, power, coercion, etc.), and has emptied and sacrificed himself into our humanity, in order to blaze for us a path out of the misery we insist upon for ourselves with our selfishness and violence. I guess this is part of why Christianity works for me and why I enjoy preaching it; it is a sustained critique and subversion of an idea of God created in our image, of what human beings tend to do and become when given absolute power over others. I'm still just a punk rock kid you know!
The question of a/theism intrigues me these days, even more so after working as a parish priest for a few years. Some of my colleagues imagine that we are in a struggle with atheism, but for me I'm not so sure of this. My diagnosis is that many people, both religious and not, seem to have absorbed an image or idea of God which isn't credible, and sometimes isn't even attractive. So of course they become 'practical atheists,' because there is nothing compelling or lovely in the idea of God they think they are supposed to believe in.
To me the standard question of theism, 'Do you believe in God?' doesn't even seem to work anymore. Of course I believe God, in the sense that I believe what he has revealed about himself, but to believe in God seems too suggestive of God as some kind of object or some-thing that is sitting some-where waiting for me to assent to his existence. To me God is too immanent for all that. Indeed I think this is precisely the message of Christianity; that God has abandoned everything it ought to mean to be God on our human terms (i.e. honor, power, coercion, etc.), and has emptied and sacrificed himself into our humanity, in order to blaze for us a path out of the misery we insist upon for ourselves with our selfishness and violence. I guess this is part of why Christianity works for me and why I enjoy preaching it; it is a sustained critique and subversion of an idea of God created in our image, of what human beings tend to do and become when given absolute power over others. I'm still just a punk rock kid you know!
February 4, 2010
The Sacred Heart and The Revolution
Today I read somewhere an unsourced claim that blame for the French Revolution lies in the failure of the kings of France to fulfill a request of the Lord to consecrate France to His Sacred Heart. Does anybody know anything about this, and whether or not it derives from some approved source or apparition?
This is not the sort of thing we were taught in 'Church History III.'
This is not the sort of thing we were taught in 'Church History III.'
April 27, 2009
Atheists
There's an interesting article in the New York Times this morning about atheists who are organizing themselves to find the support of community and to advance their agenda.
Whenever I read something like this, I'm always led into a reflection by how little I am offended as a committed theist and religionist. Why doesn't it bother me? Shouldn't committed atheists offend me? Why don't they?
First, it seems to me that the reasoned and thoughtful atheist is not the real atheistic enemy of faith and religion. The real atheistic danger to faith in God is the practical atheist; the person who may say they believe in God but for whom God makes no practical difference in their life. In fact, I think that the committed atheist is much closer to the theist than the person who may observe a religion on the surface but for whom God has no dynamic place in their heart and mind. The professed atheist is at least trying to be true to his conscience and the reasoning being God created him to be, while the practical atheist fails to truly face the searing and subtle question of God at all. In this they risk breaking the commandment that prohibits the vain use of God's name, and because they are "neither cold nor hot," they can expect to be "spit out." (Revelation 3:15-16)
Second, as I have said here many times, it's hard for me to blame people for not believing in God. This is because it is my experience that most people have been taught--or have somehow absorbed--a concept of God which isn't very believable for a thoughtful adult. The God they think someone wants them to believe in is closer to Santa Claus, Papa Smurf, or the Great Pumpkin than it is to the original Mystery whom we name as Unbegotten Source, Word, and Spirit.
Third, I have a sort of a practical connection with these professed atheists in their desire for the ruthless application of the separation of church and state. Perhaps they want it so that civil society can be protected from religion, while I want it the other way around: so that the faith can be protected from the world and from the numbing lowest common denominator of our American "civil religion."
Check out the article here.
Whenever I read something like this, I'm always led into a reflection by how little I am offended as a committed theist and religionist. Why doesn't it bother me? Shouldn't committed atheists offend me? Why don't they?
First, it seems to me that the reasoned and thoughtful atheist is not the real atheistic enemy of faith and religion. The real atheistic danger to faith in God is the practical atheist; the person who may say they believe in God but for whom God makes no practical difference in their life. In fact, I think that the committed atheist is much closer to the theist than the person who may observe a religion on the surface but for whom God has no dynamic place in their heart and mind. The professed atheist is at least trying to be true to his conscience and the reasoning being God created him to be, while the practical atheist fails to truly face the searing and subtle question of God at all. In this they risk breaking the commandment that prohibits the vain use of God's name, and because they are "neither cold nor hot," they can expect to be "spit out." (Revelation 3:15-16)
Second, as I have said here many times, it's hard for me to blame people for not believing in God. This is because it is my experience that most people have been taught--or have somehow absorbed--a concept of God which isn't very believable for a thoughtful adult. The God they think someone wants them to believe in is closer to Santa Claus, Papa Smurf, or the Great Pumpkin than it is to the original Mystery whom we name as Unbegotten Source, Word, and Spirit.
Third, I have a sort of a practical connection with these professed atheists in their desire for the ruthless application of the separation of church and state. Perhaps they want it so that civil society can be protected from religion, while I want it the other way around: so that the faith can be protected from the world and from the numbing lowest common denominator of our American "civil religion."
Check out the article here.
March 7, 2007
Fundamentalist Atheist, Continued
I've still got this fundamentalist preacher turned atheist on my mind, especially after Antonina's comment:
Often I think that the trouble with a/theism in our culture is that a lot of people (on both sides) have an image or idea of God that is unbelievable in the first place. The divinity they think they are supposed to believe in is less like the dynamic mystery of the Trinity and more like Zeus, Santa Claus, or the Great Pumpkin.
To make matters worse, we are taught to disbelieve in spiritual realities from an early age. Simple, ordinary spiritual things like numbers are "just concepts." Sublime spiritual realities like love, freedom, and truth aren't "actually real." And yet people everywhere make the most important decisions of their lives in the pursuit of love and truth. People routinely die for the sake of freedom. It's quite an accomplishment, to have folks organize their lives around you, and even die for you, without being "real."
That's what you get when you take away the beauty of the mysticism of Christ and the Church (eg. the Sacraments) and reduce it to a diagramatic science, a set of beliefs. When one diagram seems better presented or more believable than another, you can easily switch sides.
Often I think that the trouble with a/theism in our culture is that a lot of people (on both sides) have an image or idea of God that is unbelievable in the first place. The divinity they think they are supposed to believe in is less like the dynamic mystery of the Trinity and more like Zeus, Santa Claus, or the Great Pumpkin.
To make matters worse, we are taught to disbelieve in spiritual realities from an early age. Simple, ordinary spiritual things like numbers are "just concepts." Sublime spiritual realities like love, freedom, and truth aren't "actually real." And yet people everywhere make the most important decisions of their lives in the pursuit of love and truth. People routinely die for the sake of freedom. It's quite an accomplishment, to have folks organize their lives around you, and even die for you, without being "real."
March 6, 2007
Fundamentalist Atheist
The other night I caught a bit on the national news about some atheists who were protesting on behalf of the separation of church and state. Of course when folks like them protest, what they want isn't exactly the separation of church and state, but for public policy and discourse to be free of any religious influence, which is quite a different thing.
One man they interviewed was a former fundamentalist preacher turned activist atheist. At the time I just laughed and didn't think much of it, but he's stayed on my mind. It seems to me like all he did was convert from one dogmatic and rigid point of view to another. It seems like a complete change, but maybe it was the rigidity and dogmatism that was closest to his heart. From that perspective, he's hardly changed at all.
One man they interviewed was a former fundamentalist preacher turned activist atheist. At the time I just laughed and didn't think much of it, but he's stayed on my mind. It seems to me like all he did was convert from one dogmatic and rigid point of view to another. It seems like a complete change, but maybe it was the rigidity and dogmatism that was closest to his heart. From that perspective, he's hardly changed at all.
October 27, 2006
Durability
A brother I met today was talking about how Italian communism never managed to shake the culture of catholicism. He described their creed:
There is no God, and Mary is his mother.
There is no God, and Mary is his mother.
October 18, 2006
Tired
Sometimes in the late afternoon, when I get tired and lose focus and can't get anything done, I watch the news channels for a little bit. Now they try to distract you with pretty faces and colorful graphics, but the truth is that all they reveal is a weary, aimless, violent world. It's a world that has no goal, that isn't going anywhere, that can only wait for the next sensational event.
It's only sensation, not meaning. And in a world like that it's no wonder that children shoot each other, that people consider killing people who kill people an adequate way to show that killing is wrong, or that the aborting of unwanted children is a personal right.
It all reminds me of one of my favorite lecture quotes I've ever heard:
God is dead, Marx is dead, and I don't feel so well myself.
I don't remember who said it, but it's brilliant. Nobody has really thought out the dire consequences of having dispensed with God (and this is what Nietzsche was trying to point out in his famous phrase). The brightest secular and dialectical materialist dreams have come to nothing.
For the bright and exciting dreams of Marx we now have North Korea. Even the great American democratic experiment has turned into an imperialist oligarchy in which the democratic illusion is enforced by those who control the rhetoric and the content of the so-called free press.
If the Old Testament can teach us anything, it is that the Israelites had to turn back to God many times. So at least we can be encouraged by the knowledge that repentance is possible. Pray for the conversion of the western world!
It's only sensation, not meaning. And in a world like that it's no wonder that children shoot each other, that people consider killing people who kill people an adequate way to show that killing is wrong, or that the aborting of unwanted children is a personal right.
It all reminds me of one of my favorite lecture quotes I've ever heard:
God is dead, Marx is dead, and I don't feel so well myself.
I don't remember who said it, but it's brilliant. Nobody has really thought out the dire consequences of having dispensed with God (and this is what Nietzsche was trying to point out in his famous phrase). The brightest secular and dialectical materialist dreams have come to nothing.
For the bright and exciting dreams of Marx we now have North Korea. Even the great American democratic experiment has turned into an imperialist oligarchy in which the democratic illusion is enforced by those who control the rhetoric and the content of the so-called free press.
If the Old Testament can teach us anything, it is that the Israelites had to turn back to God many times. So at least we can be encouraged by the knowledge that repentance is possible. Pray for the conversion of the western world!
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