Are You Sure You Want Faith?
Abstract:
Bright, creative people have a particular problem
with words. They tend to fall in love with the sound of words, or with the
poetry of an expression, so that they often say things they don't really mean.
It happens to me often in writing and sermonizing. Something will catch my ear,
and I'll get so wrapped up in the poetry of the thing, that I'll forget to be
accurate.
Body:
My wife has pointed out this pitfall to me on
occasion, but she used the same concept to summarize what Scott Kurtz said the other
day very nicely. He made the comment in one of his
posts:
"I wish i could commit the intellectual suicide necessary to believe that [my mother] is with Jesus, sipping cocktails and looking down on us."
I thought the rest of his reflection was quite good. "Want, Settle, Get," is a good description of the wager (not to be confused with Pascal's wager) we make when we think about the afterlife. It is, in fact, a beautiful piece of writing and a nice tribute to his mom. By the way, PVP is an excellent comic, and if you do not already ready it, you should.
Scott had to take a step back and modify his words later. That's simply one of the pitfalls of being creative. You get a nice pithy sentence that sums up a lot in a tight poetic package, but then you find that it isn't really exactly what you meant. I thought it really typified the spiritual and social bind that many people feel.
If pressed, most people who say such things will say that they don't mean that Christians are stupid, or intellectually challenged. But there is a kind of shallow sweet-bye-and-bye religion that we are sure someone, somewhere has. There's a lot wrapped up in these statements.
First, there is some truth to them. There is a tension between faith and reason. It may be a cultural and philosophical artifact of the Enlightenment, but it's there nonetheless. There are a lot of religious people for whom religion is simply an excuse not to think.
Second, there is a social aspect to making the claim that one is too intellectually honest with oneself to be religious. But I also must admit, if I were to actually try to think of examples of people for whom religion is simply an excuse not to think, I would be hard pressed to name them. I have this sense that they are out there. I am sure I have met them at some point. A few may even come to mind. I know I have seen them on television. They are typically uneducated. Lower-class. Rural. Or, at least, that's the social sense that I have. You bump into them on the internet sometimes. It is entirely possible that they are not actually real people, but in fact are simulated personalities generated by the same kinds of web-crawling programs that deposit spam in the comments sections of blogs.
Making this kind of statement is an attempt to "pull off" being a certain kind of person and not some other kind. It's one of those beliefs which has the social function of distinguishing oneself from certain groups of people and including oneself among others. For example, if I speak disparagingly of the "liberal elites," I am trying to pull off being a certain kind of person - a "conservative, populist intellectual," perhaps, who will claim to be more "in touch" with the rest of America. If I dress all in black, wear eyeliner, and grow a goatee, I am trying to pull off being a certain kind of person - a goth nonconformist, perhaps, although in any given case we could debate what exactly I was trying to pull off.
Sociologists sometimes describe these kinds of activities as "social discourses." A social discourse is a collection of thoughts, attitudes, beliefs, customs, rituals, dress, etc. that reinforce each other and allow me to self-identify with a group of people. And the group that bright, creative semi-agnostics want to disassociate the most with is redneck, Bible-thumping, uneducated believers. At the far end of this distinction are the individuals who even try to come up with a name for themselves to set themselves apart - (a holy people? a royal priesthood?) - from the backwards theists who have not yet achieved enlightenment. I think most people see this as a pretentious attitude, but most people also believe it to some extent. Few of us want to be identified with "the masses" when it doesn't suit us. Anyway, I think this social discourse is why Scott feels the need to refer disparagingly to a belief in the afterlife as "sipping cocktails with Jesus." Within that image is an entire world of supposed belief that he wants to push as far away from himself as possible. And, to be honest, so do I. I suspect that people who say such things do not truly want to believe, because it would mean becoming the kind of person they would prefer to have contempt for. It would mean not only committing intellectual suicide but social identity suicide, as well.
Third, there is a personal aspect to making the claim that one is too intellectually honest with oneself to be religious. I don't mean to get too psychological and too personal, but this is where I would really challenge those who make this kind of statement. What truly motivates you to be patronizing to believers? (And no, don't tell me it isn't patronizing. It is as patronizing as Christians who talk to you about "when they didn't believe," before they came to their senses.) Think about how this sounds: "I'm too smart to have faith."
I wish I could have that kind of faith. It must be nice to believe. It would make it all so easier. I, on the other hand, cannot. My brain won't let me.
Oh, please. The thing is, if someone actually believed those words, and truly wanted to have faith, there would be a simple solution. Pray. Pray for faith. Faith isn't something you have or don't have. It is a way of life. In fact, the earliest Christians did not talk about "Christianity." They talked about "The Way." C.S. Lewis even called it "The Tao." What it means is that belief and action, intellectual processes and a way of life go together to make up faith. Here's a question to ponder: according to her diaries, Mother Theresa had one brief time of religious ecstasy, and spent the rest of her life wondering if the experience was genuine. Did she have faith? Did she believe?
But I don't want to pray. I don't want to brainwash myself into believing.
If your stunningly powerful intellect is truly what keeps you from faith, there should be no problem on that score. But I have to wonder if this isn't a bit like a husband saying that he doesn't have to tell his wife he loves her, since she should already know it. And gradually, over time, not only does his wife begin to doubt, but he does, too. Does this mean that couples constantly brainwash themselves into believing they love each other?
But I can't pray to someone I don't believe in.
On the contrary. The truest prayer of faith you can make is to a God who may or may not be there, who may or may not be listening. I like the way Nicky Gumbel describes one such prayer he heard a man say in the Alpha course. He began by saying, "God - you know I don't believe in you..."
Of course, in this imaginary dialogue, there are several problems and points of argument. But the gist is simply that lack of faith is not a problem with the intellect. People smarter than any of us have been Christian, Jewish, agnostic, atheistic, Buddhists, etc. You do not rationalize yourself into faith. Nor is faith simply a suspension of reason and disbelief. You can neither believe nor think your way to faith. The only way to faith is through action, through the desire to become faithful (and I would argue that kind of desire is by the grace of God). That is why it is "a leap of faith." It is a leap you must make from your knees.
I believe that the problem with Christianity that agnostics have is really with neither faith nor reason. It is the kind of person they wish to be. Which is exactly my problem with most Christians, fundamentalists in particular. The Way is not a set of beliefs. I'm not even comfortable calling it a lifestyle, as if it's something you choose out of a fashion magazine. I think we can have important conversations about doctrine, and I would question whether someone who doesn't profess the definitive importance of Jesus Christ could "pull off" being a Christian. But the real dividing line between those who truly want faith and those who truly do not want faith is whether a person is willing to humble themselves enough to get on their knees and pray. If you can't do that, don't hand me a line about how easy it must be to have faith. About how much nicer it would be to believe in God.
But, if you are too proud to get on your knees, then you have deeper problems than simply lack of belief. You've got a pride issue, and the first way around pride is to admit to yourself that it is pride - the fact that you desire to be the kind of person to whom a leap of faith is "intellectual suicide" - that keeps you from faith. Not your super-powerful brain. In Christian language, we call that confession and repentance.
If you can admit your pride to yourself, and then decide not to pray - hey, that's your business. Then you have come to what evangelicals would call "the point of decision."
I don't mean to sound as if I think faith is simply a matter of doing the right things, and that belief and thinking are not important. I just grow very weary of fundamentalists, agnostics, and everyone who gets caught in the crossfire of their, silly, silly, arguments assuming that conversion is a matter of thinking the right things in the right order. I don't even like the word "conversion." We are not talking about clapping your hands and saying you believe in fairies. We are talking about resurrection. Life from death. Living resurrected life, right here, right now, on this planet. Not getting your damned get-out-of-hell-free card and then sitting on your butt waiting for death to take you to the promised land.
See, now I've gotten myself riled up and angry, which is what I am trying not to do.
My anger is not toward Scott's statement. In fact, I very much sympathize with what he wrote. My anger is for the facile faith some people have that makes it just true enough to rankle. That's why gnosticism would be so much tidier. You have to meet a minimum requirement of smartness to be let into the gnostic club. They don't just let in any old riff-raff. I wish I could commit the spiritual suicide necessary to be a gnostic. It would be so much easier.
"I wish i could commit the intellectual suicide necessary to believe that [my mother] is with Jesus, sipping cocktails and looking down on us."
I thought the rest of his reflection was quite good. "Want, Settle, Get," is a good description of the wager (not to be confused with Pascal's wager) we make when we think about the afterlife. It is, in fact, a beautiful piece of writing and a nice tribute to his mom. By the way, PVP is an excellent comic, and if you do not already ready it, you should.
Scott had to take a step back and modify his words later. That's simply one of the pitfalls of being creative. You get a nice pithy sentence that sums up a lot in a tight poetic package, but then you find that it isn't really exactly what you meant. I thought it really typified the spiritual and social bind that many people feel.
If pressed, most people who say such things will say that they don't mean that Christians are stupid, or intellectually challenged. But there is a kind of shallow sweet-bye-and-bye religion that we are sure someone, somewhere has. There's a lot wrapped up in these statements.
First, there is some truth to them. There is a tension between faith and reason. It may be a cultural and philosophical artifact of the Enlightenment, but it's there nonetheless. There are a lot of religious people for whom religion is simply an excuse not to think.
Second, there is a social aspect to making the claim that one is too intellectually honest with oneself to be religious. But I also must admit, if I were to actually try to think of examples of people for whom religion is simply an excuse not to think, I would be hard pressed to name them. I have this sense that they are out there. I am sure I have met them at some point. A few may even come to mind. I know I have seen them on television. They are typically uneducated. Lower-class. Rural. Or, at least, that's the social sense that I have. You bump into them on the internet sometimes. It is entirely possible that they are not actually real people, but in fact are simulated personalities generated by the same kinds of web-crawling programs that deposit spam in the comments sections of blogs.
Making this kind of statement is an attempt to "pull off" being a certain kind of person and not some other kind. It's one of those beliefs which has the social function of distinguishing oneself from certain groups of people and including oneself among others. For example, if I speak disparagingly of the "liberal elites," I am trying to pull off being a certain kind of person - a "conservative, populist intellectual," perhaps, who will claim to be more "in touch" with the rest of America. If I dress all in black, wear eyeliner, and grow a goatee, I am trying to pull off being a certain kind of person - a goth nonconformist, perhaps, although in any given case we could debate what exactly I was trying to pull off.
Sociologists sometimes describe these kinds of activities as "social discourses." A social discourse is a collection of thoughts, attitudes, beliefs, customs, rituals, dress, etc. that reinforce each other and allow me to self-identify with a group of people. And the group that bright, creative semi-agnostics want to disassociate the most with is redneck, Bible-thumping, uneducated believers. At the far end of this distinction are the individuals who even try to come up with a name for themselves to set themselves apart - (a holy people? a royal priesthood?) - from the backwards theists who have not yet achieved enlightenment. I think most people see this as a pretentious attitude, but most people also believe it to some extent. Few of us want to be identified with "the masses" when it doesn't suit us. Anyway, I think this social discourse is why Scott feels the need to refer disparagingly to a belief in the afterlife as "sipping cocktails with Jesus." Within that image is an entire world of supposed belief that he wants to push as far away from himself as possible. And, to be honest, so do I. I suspect that people who say such things do not truly want to believe, because it would mean becoming the kind of person they would prefer to have contempt for. It would mean not only committing intellectual suicide but social identity suicide, as well.
Third, there is a personal aspect to making the claim that one is too intellectually honest with oneself to be religious. I don't mean to get too psychological and too personal, but this is where I would really challenge those who make this kind of statement. What truly motivates you to be patronizing to believers? (And no, don't tell me it isn't patronizing. It is as patronizing as Christians who talk to you about "when they didn't believe," before they came to their senses.) Think about how this sounds: "I'm too smart to have faith."
I wish I could have that kind of faith. It must be nice to believe. It would make it all so easier. I, on the other hand, cannot. My brain won't let me.
Oh, please. The thing is, if someone actually believed those words, and truly wanted to have faith, there would be a simple solution. Pray. Pray for faith. Faith isn't something you have or don't have. It is a way of life. In fact, the earliest Christians did not talk about "Christianity." They talked about "The Way." C.S. Lewis even called it "The Tao." What it means is that belief and action, intellectual processes and a way of life go together to make up faith. Here's a question to ponder: according to her diaries, Mother Theresa had one brief time of religious ecstasy, and spent the rest of her life wondering if the experience was genuine. Did she have faith? Did she believe?
But I don't want to pray. I don't want to brainwash myself into believing.
If your stunningly powerful intellect is truly what keeps you from faith, there should be no problem on that score. But I have to wonder if this isn't a bit like a husband saying that he doesn't have to tell his wife he loves her, since she should already know it. And gradually, over time, not only does his wife begin to doubt, but he does, too. Does this mean that couples constantly brainwash themselves into believing they love each other?
But I can't pray to someone I don't believe in.
On the contrary. The truest prayer of faith you can make is to a God who may or may not be there, who may or may not be listening. I like the way Nicky Gumbel describes one such prayer he heard a man say in the Alpha course. He began by saying, "God - you know I don't believe in you..."
Of course, in this imaginary dialogue, there are several problems and points of argument. But the gist is simply that lack of faith is not a problem with the intellect. People smarter than any of us have been Christian, Jewish, agnostic, atheistic, Buddhists, etc. You do not rationalize yourself into faith. Nor is faith simply a suspension of reason and disbelief. You can neither believe nor think your way to faith. The only way to faith is through action, through the desire to become faithful (and I would argue that kind of desire is by the grace of God). That is why it is "a leap of faith." It is a leap you must make from your knees.
I believe that the problem with Christianity that agnostics have is really with neither faith nor reason. It is the kind of person they wish to be. Which is exactly my problem with most Christians, fundamentalists in particular. The Way is not a set of beliefs. I'm not even comfortable calling it a lifestyle, as if it's something you choose out of a fashion magazine. I think we can have important conversations about doctrine, and I would question whether someone who doesn't profess the definitive importance of Jesus Christ could "pull off" being a Christian. But the real dividing line between those who truly want faith and those who truly do not want faith is whether a person is willing to humble themselves enough to get on their knees and pray. If you can't do that, don't hand me a line about how easy it must be to have faith. About how much nicer it would be to believe in God.
But, if you are too proud to get on your knees, then you have deeper problems than simply lack of belief. You've got a pride issue, and the first way around pride is to admit to yourself that it is pride - the fact that you desire to be the kind of person to whom a leap of faith is "intellectual suicide" - that keeps you from faith. Not your super-powerful brain. In Christian language, we call that confession and repentance.
If you can admit your pride to yourself, and then decide not to pray - hey, that's your business. Then you have come to what evangelicals would call "the point of decision."
I don't mean to sound as if I think faith is simply a matter of doing the right things, and that belief and thinking are not important. I just grow very weary of fundamentalists, agnostics, and everyone who gets caught in the crossfire of their, silly, silly, arguments assuming that conversion is a matter of thinking the right things in the right order. I don't even like the word "conversion." We are not talking about clapping your hands and saying you believe in fairies. We are talking about resurrection. Life from death. Living resurrected life, right here, right now, on this planet. Not getting your damned get-out-of-hell-free card and then sitting on your butt waiting for death to take you to the promised land.
See, now I've gotten myself riled up and angry, which is what I am trying not to do.
My anger is not toward Scott's statement. In fact, I very much sympathize with what he wrote. My anger is for the facile faith some people have that makes it just true enough to rankle. That's why gnosticism would be so much tidier. You have to meet a minimum requirement of smartness to be let into the gnostic club. They don't just let in any old riff-raff. I wish I could commit the spiritual suicide necessary to be a gnostic. It would be so much easier.
Posted: Wed - November 24, 2004 at 02:29 PM |
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contact: dave at davebarnhart dot net
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Published On: Aug 15, 2006 01:49 PM
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