Monday, January 09, 2006
A folk singer named Jan Krist sat down and asked herself:
What do I know?
What do I really know?
I know:
1) Mercy will find you.
2) Unforgivness will bind you.
3) Children grow, and it's hard to let them go.
I'm not a parent; I can't really speak for her third conclusion (though I know my own mother has struggled seeing myself and my siblings grow and leave). As for the other two absolutes, I feel I can attest to their accuracy. It is a strange but welcome relief that mercy, or the giver of it, finds us. Not forsaken; we hid. Not lost; we sequestered ourselves. Not forgotten; we were found.
Ms. Krist's purpose, obviously, is not to enumerate the precious few truths she can speak with surety, but rather to hint at the mystery not included in her list. I was re-reading some previous entries here, and realized I mentioned the mysteries of life more than once. For several months, I've been pursuing answers and reasoning through my doubt and suspicions, looking for something concrete: What do I know? What do I really know? 
Little did I know. Little did I know how essential it is not to know. The necessity of mystery, it's pivotal role in providing hope, inspiration, motivation to continue on through the bleakest of droughts. I think (because we are all now aware of my sci-fi obsession) of Captain Jean-Luc Picard, captain of the fictional Enterprise starship. Episode after episode, season after season, Picard and his crew piloted through galaxies harboring the unknown. No amount of knowledge they could amass was sufficient; there could not plot enough maps, could not encounter enough new species. Every stone unturned left open wide the door for the next adventure, the next unanswered question.
I've been so obsessed with answering the inconsistencies of my faith that for a long time, I've found little reason to hope, little chance to dream, little motivation to overturn the next stone. Little pleasure from the pursuit.
Thank God, literally, for number one on Jan's list. When all the fun was gone, all the mystery deconstructed, I hid among pieces of disassembled framework that once composed my worldview, my "metanarrative," as the postmoderns might call it. I hid away, because I had stared into that abyss and seen the bottom; the pit was shallow and devoid of meaning. But in that moment of actualization of my greatest fears, mercy found me. I wasn't even crying out because who was there to cry to? But mercy, separating me from what I surely deserve, found me amid all the rubble of dead and dying dreams. It lifted my eyes, illumined my periphery, where sat ensconced in the darkness, an unturned stone. And the mystery returned, painfully pulsing like fresh blood through long-closed veins, spurring movement, inspiring hope, rekindling the pleasure of pursuit.
God is the mystery; he is the chase. Be wary of anyone who peddles a well-defined portait of divinity, a deconstructed diety. Be suspicious of any who lobby for their agenda in the name of religion, or who claim God's sanctions on thier morality. It's not that there is no religion, or that there is no morality; it's that those things are, very emphatically, not the point. Were a human's highest calling to be "correct" or to fit a moral mold, there would be very little use for choice, opportunity, decision, time, pain, pleasure, communication, relationship, emotion, touch, taste, sight, birth, growth, death, sex, language, hope, despair - the entire nature of the human experience would be something altogether different. The originator of these great mysterious human capacities has in mind something far more significant even than every good Christian's highest hope of heaven. I don't know what it is (hence, mystery). I don't know when we find it (or when it finds us). I don't know, I don't know, I don't know.
(I don't know.)
Posts
Mercy is an abstract concept. How can it 'find' you?
To comment on your statement that having "stared into [the] abyss" it was "shallow and meaningless": There is no meaning in my opinion. If you can ask "What is the meaning of life", then you could also ask "What is the meaning of electronics", or "the meaning of the sun". Meaning is another abstract concept which human beings assign to things they consider to be significant, mistakenly or otherwise. For example: If a black cat crosses my path, what does this mean? I could assign any number of meanings I wished to this event, including that it would bring me bad luck, or good luck, or that it was going to rain. But in actuality, the only thing that can be said conclusively is that a black cat has crossed my path. The only meaning of this event is one which I can choose to attach to it.
I believe we are here by random chance. I take comfort in the fact that someday I will die and return to the earth as particles and atoms: That's really all I am, and all that you are. I could take 'Pascal's Wager', but I don't feel the need. I might sound like a soulless, heartless machine of a person, but I am not. I feel happiness, and joy, and sorrow, and remorse, and pride, and fulfillment, just like anyone else. I am human.
At my core, I cannot understand how the superstitious, inconsistent, head-in-the-sand approach that religion presents to its followers is beneficial to anyone, other than to patronisingly shield them from a painful truth with palatable fiction. Whether this is beneficial or not is debatable.
I will be alive tomorrow. And tomorrow I will also believe that I'll be alive the next day. And so on until I die: Then I will believe no more.
"Meaning is another abstract concept which human beings assign to things they consider to be significant, mistakenly or otherwise."
If I consider something to be significant, does that not give it meaning? Maybe not to you, because you might not think it's significant. But when I delight in something, an idea or vision or object, and assign significance to it, that is the definition of meaning! The idea, "meaning," is not abstract to the one who values something.
Bottom line is that faith is what it is, it's a self-descriptive term. I believe that my faith makes life meaningful - it's the BELIEF itself that gives meaning, not the object of belief. If there is a God, but I choose to disbelieve in him/her, God may do any number of things to get my attention, but it won't matter. There will be no meaning to God's actions because I don't believe in God; I will see it all as random.
But should I choose to believe there is more to life, other dimensions, invisible spirits, aliens above intruding on our existence, then that belief gives rise to meaning. God may perform the same actions on me that he/she performs on an unbeliever, but I will, as you say, assign significance because I have a faith in something I can't prove.
You, j.l., have a faith in something you can't prove either. Your faith says there is nothing behind the veil, only more particles and atoms. That is what you believe, and so you assign no significance to those feelings of happiness, joy, pride, remorse, etc. that you mention.
My question is: why bother if it's meaningless?
I fully acknowledge that I am assigning significance to something, and that is what gives it meaning. But that is my choice. If it weren't for the chance to believe that more exists to me than particles and atoms, I would have nothing to say, I wouldn't even blog. I wouldn't even live.
But because of belief, because of faith, I find reason to try harder, to better myself, to help others - I find meaning. In that sense, it's not so much about God as it is about belief.
I'm OK with knowing that my faith is potentially the only thing giving meaning to my existence. If there is no God, I'm OK with simply believing there is. That's enough for me.
Funny thing is, the more I believe in God, the more I am convinced there is one, and that he/she cares deeply for me and my fellow human beings on this planet.
If I am standing outside and it is an overcast day and everything I can see is getting wet, including myself, then it would be reasonable to conclude that it is raining. If I was standing outside on an overcast day and everything is getting wet just as before, and I conclude that it is not raining, then this is not reasonable. It is far more likely to be raining than say, someone showering everything with a huge water cannon. There is a clear and consistant link between things outside getting wet on such a day, and the rain. It would certainly be possible that I might be wrong, but very unlikely. Now, I could choose to believe that it was not raining, but what purpose would that serve?
"Why bother if it's meaningless?" Why not? There are lots of great things about being alive: Music, nature, coffee, beer and whisky, women, friendship, sex, parenthood, intellectual challenge... In general, pleasure makes life worth living. Some folks might be horror-stricken by what I've just said; after all, physical pleasure is 'sinful' isn't it? Rubbish!
Why bother? Because you only get one life, and once it's over, you won't be able to experience anything ever again. Because the alternative is permanent death.
"If there is no God, I'm OK with simply believing there is. That's enough for me."
Really? That's a bit worrying, brother. So a comfortable fiction is better than accepting a sour truth? I'm reminded of a Hans Christian Andersen fairytale about an Emperor and his new clothes...
I care about you too! I am a human being, as are we all. You don't need a religious belief to be considerate and helpful, honest and loving, and not to hurt others. I have empathy. I can put myself in another's shoes.
Why must life have a meaning? Why must we be more than 'just particles and atoms'? That's enough for me.
Reason is good. I believe in reason. :)
It's not at all that I'm saying I think I have no support for my belief, or cause for it. I'm simply acknowledging that ultimately, all ideologies are faith-based. There can be overwhelming support for an idea, such as the wetness of rain. But that doesn't mean someone can't stand in it and say "It's not raining." You're right it might not do any good, and it certainly would be unreasonable, but I just wanted to point out that reason is not the final factor. If that person believes it's not raining, they will interpret the wetness some other way.
I think we'd both agree that the ideas we're discussing are not nearly as cut & dry (pardon the pun) as whether or not it's raining. There is a much higher level of uncertainty involved in metaphysical issues, and I encourage being open to possibilities that don't fit within the confines of one's belief system. That's what I've done, that's what I'm doing with my life.
As for pleasure, I'm with you, 100%! I think everything you mentioned are fantastic parts of life (including beer, whiskey, & sex!). Pleasure is part of why I believe so strongly there is something more to our makeup than particles & atoms. But there is also pain, and that is why I even began the second guess blog to begin with, because at first glance, pain does not look like something that would come from God, at least not the God I grew up knowing.
Reconciling the idea of a caring God to the painful experiences of life was crucial for me as someone who does believe in meaning. And don't think for a second that anything about my belief system is "comfortable" or easy. As a gay man, there is nothing easy about wanting to experience fellowship and relationship with other people who follow Jesus. As an American, there is nothing easy about living in our capitalist, absurdly wealthy society while acknowledging the destitute condition of populations larger than ours, or embracing freedom when others are under tyranny. There IS comfort in my belief system, but that doesn't mean I can ignore the harsh realities of life - or that I'm parading naked through the street convinced I'm clothed in first-rate garbs.
And finally, you ask a good question when you say 'Why must life have meaning?' A very good question. And maybe someday I will have a very good answer. But for me, for now, it simply is not enough. I'm glad you have peace in a world without meaning. But that's not a viable option for me. I have many reasons for believing in God, and maybe someday I will share more of them here, but for now all I can say is that, with my interpretation & experience, I could not "comfortably" resign to the idea that nothing lies beyond the veil.
When people say they want a meaning, they really mean they want a future.
The here & now isn't a problem, though, is it?
Here & now, everything is as it is and as you see it, before your eyes.
The future is not your problem. You're getting ahead of yourself.
Mystery is a place permanently in the future - it's place where we will never be. We can never be. And it can't be abolished.
Some people want to own the future. They use it to control.
Christians, Nazis, they all do it.
But their lies fit the bill. They are the drug that sooths the pain.
The addiction comes at a price.
The price is freedom.