PART I
“To the heights! To the heights!”
-Gregory Palamas
seekers
I am a participant in humanity’s rich spiritual heritage, seeking to bridge the gap between what is and what ought to be. I am a supporter of faith and a believer in belief. I love logic. I am a fan of mysticism. But I myself I am a seeker. The task of a seeker is to reconcile his or her vision of the divine with his or her vision of day-to-day reality. This reconciliation of mystery and mundane must be done simply. A tower to heaven is of no use if it floats above the ground using elaborate devices. If these two visions cannot be reconciled, seekers theoretically must recant their beliefs or else maintain them in the face of the realities to which their beliefs supposedly apply.
Sometimes we settle for a little of both recanting and maintaining; a compromise which humbly acknowledges our human limitations but works toward belief nonetheless. My thesis here is that people who experience God are justified in believing in God’s existence and in living for him a life demonstrative of certain values including love, justice and beauty, whether in concert with an established religion or not, and whether they have a perfect answer for every question or not.
What follows, then, is a description of a belief system that works for me. It is a personal theology. It is far from unique or original or complete, but I benefit from writing it down. It contributes little, if anything, to the conversation. But I hope that at the end of the day my contribution to the Great Conversation of Life is in the form of actions rather than words, anyway.
creation
In the beginning, before God created space and matter, space and matter did not exist. I find it easy to explain space and matter in terms of the Lord creating them. This is not to say that matter’s existence is proof of God’s existence, even though it seems absurd to me to suppose that matter itself is uncreated and eternal.
If we follow the regress of “where did that come from?” questions, we may eventually end with God. But some have pointed out that it is just as logical to stop one step before you get to God, or to go further and insist that God him/herself had an origin.
Personally, if these options are equally logical, I have no problem going with the one that makes sense to me, namely; God, who creates and is uncreated, is the First Cause. The problem is that any choice one makes between these options will be arbitrarily motivated if it is based solely on this kind of cosmological speculation.
So the existence of everything might suggest the existence of God in that everything was created by him in the beginning, but everything’s existence in no way proves that everything was created by him. And if it did, it would still prove nothing about what kind of God he is, which is a topic I will address hereafter.
religions
I believe God created humankind, and not the other way round. Humans did create religions, but religions are no more inherently profane than humans. Neither the Bible nor any other religious text was written directly by the hand of God.
If this is so, you may ask, how are we to know him? For Christian theology holds that God is unknowable apart from his own self-revelation. (Please forgive the use of the masculine pronoun for God throughout. I find “him or her,” “he or she” or “it” distracting.)
I agree with theology on this point. The reason I refuse to admit Christianity’s claims to absolute or exclusive status, or any religion’s claims to such, is precisely because there is more than one religion. If there were only one faith on the market, we would have less of a contest. As it is, the multiplicity of religions is a problem.
There are other problems specific to Christianity. (Feel free to skip this paragraph. It is hard for me to write.) First, if Jesus intended to save individuals from a certain eternity of hellfire and teeth-gnashing by sending his Spirit-filled disciples out to invite the lost into a personal relationship with himself, I have to believe he would have started much earlier in human history and would have sped the process up. The fact that Christianity offers no answer at all to the question of the unevangalized constitutes a problem for Christianity’s exclusivity, not to mention its validity. I also wonder, if our eternal fate is determined by a single decision made during our time on Earth, why the time our Creator saw fit to grant us is so very short. If our lifespan is less than the blink of an eye compared to eternity, why only give us the blink of an eye in which to stumble around and perhaps strike upon the Truth? Theology says we die because sin entered into the world through Adam. But then, why start us off in the world at all? Why not start us in heaven where God is, if he wants to be with us so badly?
But let us return to the question that was raised earlier. How can we know God? What kind of God is he? This can be a difficult question.
In my brief study of religion I have found that it is usually the mystics who concern themselves with this question the most. The reformers and preachers have insight into his will. The organizers and movers, the theologians and philosophers: they know God one and all. But the sole occupation of the mystic is simply to encounter the divine presence. It is this holy obsession that drives them to the ascetic wilderness of the desert and to become the old man on the mountaintop and the mysterious woman who lives in the hermitage and has her food given to her through a small hole near the base of the wall.
Muslim sufis, Christian monks, Buddhist monks. Every religion is home to some form of mysticism, however obscure it may be. I do not intend to dwell on the similarities or difference in their respective visions of the divine: whether they are theistic or not; whether love is their centerpiece; what forms their devotion takes.
I want to observe that, as a rule, all mystics are hyphenated. One literally cannot be simply a mystic. One is either a Christian mystic, or a Jewish mystic, or so on.
I think this fact points to why humans have created religions. The consensus is that God is worthy of devotion (notwithstanding the suffering he has to answer for) but we cannot devote ourselves to an abstraction. In other words, if God has no knowable attributes, we cannot follow him. Luckily, knowledge of his attributes has been supplied to humankind of old through the teachings of the religions. For example, Christians believe in the Trinity not because this doctrine is self evident in nature but because the Church teaches it.
spiritual experience
How does belief in God take root in people in the first place? As noted above, belief in God is shallow at best if he has no known attributes. Belief in an impersonal, distant God is unsustainable. (The kind of belief that has any kind of practical life application, that is.)
My theory is that people “know” God and then they believe in him, not vise versa. We experience him first, and then we consent to his existence in earnest. It should be pointed out importantly that if we say we experience something then we presuppose that we believe in it. For example, if I say, “that music is beautiful,” it is presupposed that I believe music is being played.
So the doctrines and tenets of a religion are not the source of God’s self-revelation. Personal spiritual experience is. Through a spiritual experience one can perceive many things about God: that he is the champion of the poor; the author of morality; the owner of the cattle on a thousand hills. All God’s primary attributes can be gathered through spiritual experience.
This, I think, accounts for the origins of religions. Culturally situated people have experiences, write them down or pass them down orally, attract followers, and presto! A religion. Thus, religions are the reservoirs of the knowledge of God, but not the source. And reservoirs can be added to haphazardly. Somewhere along the way, for example, Buddha, who was a non-theist, came to be revered as a god! And Jesus, who had a message to preach, somehow became the message itself.
I used to believe in the deity of Christ. One day during that part of my life, Mormons came to my door. Mormons come to everybody’s door eventually. I always listen to them politely, take their literature, and sometimes I ask them a question or two. Once, I asked them how we could know that the Book of Mormon was from God. Their reply disturbed me. “Read the book of Mormon,” they said, “then pray, and see if God doesn’t confirm its word in your spirit.”
“Wow,” I thought. “I’ll be darn if that isn’t the same thing Christians say about the Bible. . . . Good thing Mormons are wrong and Christians are right.”
Spiritual experiences can’t confirm the truth of any particular religion. If a nonreligious person wanders into a Christian church, we can hardly expect them to experience Nirvana. All the songs are about Jesus. Nor will a Buddhist who has never heard of Christianity spontaneously experience Jesus during mediation.
On the other hand, though, experience is what counts. For example, if someone has a spiritual experience of Jesus during worship or while reading the New Testament, I acknowledge that they are, in fact, justified in their belief that Jesus exists. Justified belief is different from knowledge. To use philosophical jargon; it has a less exalted epistemological status. I am not too perturbed by this. In an elementary Philosophy of Religion textbook you can find a discussion of all the arguments for the existence of God and the counterpoints, and all the arguments against his existence and the counterpoints. I tire of the debate and conclude that an “exalted” conclusion is pretty hard to come by. It is possible that God exists and it is possible that he does not. Philosophy as I understand it does not tell me a whole lot more about the question of the existence of God.
In any case, I have never read the book of Mormon and never gave God the chance to confirm its words in my spirit. I have read the Bible multiple times, but I have rarely had spiritual experiences through it. That is because books are not my gateway to such experiences. As it turns out, nature is.
Every human being is capable of spiritual experiences. Religions usually teach that we have to be in a certain state of mind or heart, as with the mystics described above, but there are, of course, exceptions to this. Sometimes God must be sought with “the whole heart.” Sometimes he is found of those who did not seek him. In both cases I believe God is behind any genuine spiritual experience.
No two people experience God in the same way. Some people’s pathway to spiritual experience is reading texts. Other pathways include nature, service, intellect, contemplation, and music. I should also note that what I am calling spiritual experience Christians tend to call worship. (The word “prayer” can also have some of the same connotations.)
belief
Why believe that God is behind such experiences? Why can’t such experiences be the fruit of complicated human psychology? Well, they certainly are the fruit of complicated human psychology, just as our existence is the fruit of complicated human evolution. The question really is, as always, why believe in God?
The nature and content of the experiences convinces me. I understand spiritual experiences as God’s self-revelation.
Let me return to the music example used above. If I have never heard of music before and I suddenly hear music being played then I will believe in music and I will be justified in my belief. But I will know nothing about music other than what I hear. In the same way, I know nothing about God other than what I can gather, but I am justified in my belief because of the experience.
Now, admittedly, this argument does not work for proving the existence of God. As we know, religious epistemology is a much-debated field. Experience can’t prove God, but it can indeed justify belief in him; so we are talking here about justified belief rather than knowledge. I perceive God to be a lover of justice, a lover of beauty, a lover of goodness, a lover of love, a lover of his creation, a lover of people, a lover of me. I believe in this God.
I have experienced him a number of times. For example, I have experienced him while sitting on a wooden bench in a field that had been specifically designated as a “sacred space.” I have experienced him while resting on the side of an Ozark mountain in a state forest. While watching a worm journey across a sidewalk. Singing a song. Accidentally stepping on a dead bird.
There is a limited range of things that can be legitimately discerned about God in this way—this limit is, I think, ethically important. I can’t go on TV and say God wants you to give me money. The reason I believe in God and not in Jesus, even though I have had spiritual experiences as a Christian, and despite Lewis’ correct understanding of the obstinacy of belief and the logic of personal relations, is my exposure to the work of skeptical scholars of religion. I do not think the historical record sufficiently validates the Christian narrative. For example, I think Jesus did not say all the things the gospels say he said.
faith
My system perhaps catches on a double standard here. Some may say that reason does not validate the exalted status I give to justified belief just as I do not think the historical record validates Christianity.
“Reason” does not confirm it, but when we say reason in this sense we really mean critique, and critique can’t determine what is true and good but only what is not true and not good. As I read recently in an academic journal, “…If the essay didn’t conclude that a discourse was faulty, the reviewers would try to make the essay say that. Only critique is acceptable academic practice, because only contradictions and omissions can be certainly demonstrated.”
I know we can gather no demonstrative “proof of God” through the arts or the sciences. But where these sorts of knowledge turns up inconclusive, not negative but inconclusive, spirituality is found to be a deep pool.
I contend that reason is to logical cognition as spiritual experience is to mystical awareness. In other words, “reason” and “spirituality” are analogous. In my experience, spirituality is as much a part of the human condition as any other cognition or sensation. So what is an individual to do when he or she feels God pressing in upon him or her? Are we to consider ourselves too sophisticated to believe in God? We could think ourselves too sophisticated, but there is no mandate of any kind that says we should. Instead, this can be where faith comes in. As Anne Lamott has said, the opposite of faith is not doubt. The opposite of faith is certainty.
For me, faith is not some sort of religious parody of reason. Nor is reason merely critique.
I think belief in God is very often a basic belief for people, not based on any deeper belief. (We have a number of such basic beliefs. For example, the belief that our physical senses are reliable, or that we are loved.) Faith is what we call it when we believe, and we can’t prove it, and we can’t reasonably be asked to.
I acknowledge that we cannot deduce through spiritual experience whether God is Yahweh or Allah or the Great Spirit. I am fully confident, though, that what we can know about God through experience, abstract or structured as it may be, is more than enough to occupy us. God as I have experienced him at times is both overpowering and intimate.
lord
Only when one experiences God will he or she perhaps be motivated to call him “Lord.” The term Lord indicates that a conceptual leap has taken place from an impersonal God to a personal one. This leap is fueled by an experience.
And it is a supremely intuitive leap. I know intuitively, for example, that this God who is disclosing himself to me is transcendent. And he must have some reason, some purpose for his dealing with me.
In fact, the term “Lord” indicates that he has a will, insofar as lords generally have a will for their people to accomplish. This will of his is evident from his perceived attributes. In short; if I call him Lord then I myself am to love justice, beauty, goodness, love, creation, and people just as he does. No command or commissioning ceremony is necessary. In this way, to believe in the Lord is to receive a mandate for action.
As discussed above, belief in an impersonal, unknowable God is unsustainable. Again, we can’t know him if he is unknowable; if he were just plain unknowable then claiming to “know him” in a justified way wouldn’t even be a matter of “faith,” but would plainly be impossible. I will now add that to believe in (that is, to experience and believe in) a personal God is to believe in Lord. The point is: either God is unknowable, or he ignites one’s life. (The third option is, I suppose, that he is knowable but that one doesn’t know him.)
Of course, one may observe quite rightly that people can live these values out without any help from God. I agree with this completely. We all act under our own volition. I think the Lord is happy with right actions no matter who performs them. And more than just actions—it is true that the Lord pondereth the heart.
prayer
So, religion is not properly conceptualized as a set of propositions to be understood, consented to and defended. Religion is a set of purposes to be lived out.
Purpose is a big theme. I can see why some people believe that humans have evolved too far for their own good and have sadly developed a need to look for purpose where there is none.
I do think that people expect a lot from the universe. We tend to optimistically assume that there is a way through every problem, an end to every maze. The religious especially think that if a Creator put everything in place for a purpose then there must be a way through every labyrinth. In short: we hope.
Prayer is an expression of hope. I cannot write a treatise on hope, nor on prayer. But I can think of nothing more reviled by popular atheists than hope, so I will put my two cents in. I love hope. I do not know if “intercessory prayer” “works.” But I believe in the prayer of petition, privately. I don’t argue about it. I won’t defend this belief against skeptics. I have experienced answered prayers. I pray. And I love it when people pray for me or with me. I pray to “the Lord.”
- – - – -
PART II
“The glory of God is man fully alive”
-Irenaeus
compendium
I would like to make a few other observations about God. These observations will perhaps be more devotional or overtly religious in nature than the preceding has been. I will elaborate (in a round about way) on the following statements. God delights in his creation like an artist enjoys his or her art. This delight requires no participation from the creation. But part of that delight does come from being known by his creation, and his delight is even more full when his creation acts according to his nature. I want to discuss these things. As I do, I will also discuss why God seems so hard to get.
otherness
Many people insist that if he exists at all, God is silent. The seeker looks around and justly asks why God is so hard to find. Many have ventured answers to this question, and none that I know of are completely satisfactory. I will here venture my best guess. This guess is informed by the Christian tradition I swim in (if you haven’t noticed), so be warned.
I do not know why God created us—or anything—at all. I believe God is “wholly other,” so whatever he might have had in the way of something we would identify as a motivation is certainly unfathomable. The most precise thing we can say is probably that he felt like it. Despite what Christian theology says about the perfectly self-contained nature of the community of the Trinity, I suspect that if God had a motivation it would be something like what we would call the longing of loneliness.
But he did not just set out to create humans. If that were the case, he largely overdid it by creating the cosmos so big and us so small. God surely delights in his entire creation and not just in Homo sapiens. God has a lot to delight in, especially if he is a lover of beauty. We have a responsibility therefore to preserve the little part of creation that God has put us on, because he undoubtedly loves butterflies, trees and the tide. Destroying any of it would be a shame.
I guess it is for butterflies to figure out why God created butterflies. Why they have to be worms before their glory is revealed. I bet they’re not even curious, really. I bet they know. Lucky for them. Maybe it is humankind’s unique curse to care about the whys. In any case, it is my own existence and relationship with God that I wonder about now. And I’m sure God knows that I wonder.
free will
The first thing God had to create was otherness. As I said in the very first paragraph, I believe God created space and matter. I don’t think God himself needs space to exist in. Space probably came before matter, or else they were created simultaneously. Otherwise, where would God put the physical objects he was making?
In order to create at all, that which God creates has to be other than himself. I am not among the panentheists. I think that our very createdness is what makes it possible for God to seem distant in the first place.
Besides our physical otherness from God (he is “other” than us locationally), we are also volitionally other. That is, he gave us the capacity to have a will of our own. It makes sense to me that he would do this. If he did not—if our wills were merely extensions of his—what would he have succeeded in creating? Just more fingers on his righteous right hand, and still nothing to hold in it.
So free will was a part of the plan. The fact that we have free will, and the observable results of it, is part of why I gather (through reverse engineering) that God was lonely-esque when he created us. If he wanted something, he could easily create it. If he wanted something from somebody, he would have to create something and somebody. And if he wanted something given to him spontaneously by somebody, that somebody would have to have free will to choose or not choose.
I can see someone scoffing at the vanity or selfishness of God. “He wants something given to him spontaneously indeed!” But isn’t our own human desire for companionship a perfect example of this? We all want somebody to like us. We wouldn’t force them to like us even if we could, because that would defeat the point. So if we have this deep desire for unconstrained love, and if God “created us in his image” at all (whatever that means in the face of God and humankind being “other”), then we can see that free will was a necessity.
The problem with free will is that it makes evil possible. For example, God loves justice, we are to love justice too, but we are not compelled by heaven to act justly. It is a central doctrine of Christianity, though, and of many religions in some form or another, that “sin separates us from God.”
I now want to address something I could not address until now. Earlier I said, “the consensus is that God is worthy of devotion (notwithstanding the suffering he has to answer for)…” I now want to say the few words I have to say about evil.
Lots of people have tried to address the problem of pain. There is no comprehensive answer that I know of to the theodicy problem. But to me it makes sense to say that suffering is, at least in small part, a side effect of free will. This does not explain why death happens. It doesn’t explain a lot of things. But to me it helps explain the existence of much of the evil in the world. And it is a fairly standard conclusion among contemporary Christians. It explains how ax murders can exist and persist in the construct of God’s good creation. I do not think it explains how hurricanes and tornadoes can exist, though. Those are not the result of human free will. They’re a result of the air we breathe. It seems to me that God created the world, not just humankind but the whole world, and then, to facilitate free will, he turned it loose. So I would not say, for example, that the world is on auto pilot heading toward a certain conclusion. It’s more like God let the reigns go, but we’re still caught in his gravitational pull and orbiting.
distance
All this also drives home for me the sense of distance that even the very faithful sometimes feel in relation to God. There is no literal hole in the sky that lets all people everywhere look up into the throne room of heaven. No call to prayer sounds three times a day from the clouds around the world. We and God are other.
But I think he likes being known. In some ways it is hard for humans to accomplish this knowledge. In some ways it is very easy.
It is hard because he is other. I got married less than a month ago. My wife is my best friend. Several months ago I asked a married friend of mine what marriage is like. He talked about how he sometimes forgot that his wife is another person. I didn’t understand what he meant until last week. My wife and I were leaving the art museum. I opened the car door for her while we were in the middle of a conversation so that she could get into the car. She got in and I shut the door and walked around to the other side, but I kept on talking as though she could still hear me. Only about half way around the car did I realize that our conversation was paused, so I stopped talking. That was strange.
My beautiful wife and I are one, but she is also “other” from me. We have known each other since middle school. We love each other very much. But I suspect that there are some things about me that she will never understand and some things about her that I will never get. Sometimes it feels like we are the same person. Sometimes it seems like we are from different worlds.
Even among two devoted humans, perfect knowledge of each other is not easy to achieve. How much more mysterious would the relationship between God and human be? I think that God knows us, and as some of our own poets have said, “we too are his offspring.” Even so, plugging into God can just be hard.
On the other hand, it can be really easy. I believe that God does not need religion to reach a person. Take a camping trip. Volunteer at a soup kitchen. Take up yoga. Find your pathway to experiencing God. (If you have a mind to. If not, what the heck are you doing reading this?)
As for those of us who are religions: since God has not come down to set the record straight about which religion is the closest to the truth, I have drawn the conclusion that he is prepared to work with all of us. He is humble enough to be called by whatever name.
I know nothing about interfaith dialogue. I know that wars start over religions and that proselyzation is awkward. Let the Christian remain a Christian, I say. Let the Buddhist remain a Buddhist. Let the non-theist remain non-theistic. And let the convert-making religions keep trying to convert one another. Evangelization is a big part of many religions, and you can’t just change a religion because you want to (although I can think of a few people throughout history who might take issue with this statement…) Religions are more or less static in their essence and are slow to change in the way they are practiced (Though this could be argued). Still, I think the evangelization strategies and faith manifestoes held by religious establishments should be as up-to-date, informed and as open-minded as possible.
the last things
As for the theological problems that individuals (or even societies) sometimes find themselves presented with, the only rule of thumb is “to each his own.” I have found that what is troublesome to one person might not be troublesome to another. For example, some Christians may wonder whether God will deal kindly with those people whom the Church was not able to reach before they passed away. Some may not wonder about that at all. Moreover, different people are satisfied by different answers. We are not dealing with math questions, after all. One may say, “God will judge them righteously” and leave it at that. Some may say fine, but then why is evangelism necessary? Why the Great Commission? As many people may answer that it is God’s will to spread the kingdom of his Son.
Bottom line; if a theological quandary is a practical problem for you, deal with it. Read books and follow the rabbit hole. If it is not, don’t worry about it.
I say this because I realize that I pick and choose the problems I will really engage, too. For example, I believe in God even though people die. That’s something that some men and women greater than me have found they cannot do. I just say to myself, “wonderful things happen, too.” And that works for me. I’m sure many people would be frustrated with me for “refusing to face the facts.” I would like to have a conversation with those people. It is hard to find people who like talking religion around here.
Besides, I believe in mystery even as I believe in reason, as I think all seekers must. Some great truths are like huge boulders encrusted with precious stones. You want to run up to them, lift them up, and put them in your pocket. Some people try and get discouraged and worn out right away. But some people content themselves with gazing at the stones and examining their facets.
Speaking of mystery, I must close by wondering whether there is an afterlife. I hope there is. In fact, I even believe there is based on hope. If there is a bad afterlife I think it is ceasing to exist. The good afterlife will be characterized by increased closeness to the Lord and increased fullness of life. As for eschatology, I don’t know. If there is to be an end of the world then I’m sure it can come to pass without my say-so.
If so, haste the day. Until then, find us about thy business, oh Lord.
“To the heights, to the heights!”
- – - – - – -
For information about references and quoted material, send me an email.