On Belief: My Great Protest

My dear readers,

I've been too busy to write here, but I have not been away from blogging. I won't steer you toward what I've been up to -- elsewhere -- but I will say that I am tired. My fatigue is not the kind one feels after some arduous task or struggle; rather, it is the kind one feels from spending too much time in one's head.

Suffice it to say, I am tired of trying to sound convincing.

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Why do any of us believe what we do believe?

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A Tangent

A few questions come to mind. They emerge randomly to me; they carry no import of any expedience. They just merely show up, bowing their heads while standing atop a ball: ?????

• If Jesus the Christ is real, and if He was a blogger, what would He blog about? What tone would He take?
  
• If Christ accepted comments at His blog, what would be the first question you'd ask?
• If Satan is real and he had a blog, what would he write about? What question would you ask him?
• If there is a God, does He love Satan? If so, why? If not, why not?

Ahh, the questions seem so silly once I write them down. They do not hit me as being more than the ruminations of a sophomore. But I wonder.

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THE QUESTION EXPLORED

Why DO we believe what we do? Is it not a matter of desire, of will? Do I believe in Christ merely because it is my desire to do so? Is belief nothing more than an act, a choice, a decision?

My non-believing friends, be they atheists or agnostics or materialists or empiricists, inform me that the cosmos possesses no inherent "meaning." In other words, there is nothing of religious import -- or the equivalent -- in the universe that exists independent of human consciousness. Moreover, there is no meaning or purpose not only intrinsic or extrinsic to the universe, there is no equivalent in human consciousness: there is nothing in your thought-life that impels you -- by force of law, rule or precept -- to think certain ways. You can, pretty much, do whatever you believe is right, meaningful and purposive. Ultimate meaning and purpose is up to you: the object of your adoration, worship or motivation is yours to create, and you need not even create a thing.

This, at least to me, is the materialist/atheist worldview in a nutshell. It is an idealism of mammoth proportions, for it only exists in the human mind and that mind is the only place it can ever exist.

And yet ...

I wonder if it's true? For I note that now that I've written down this great truth about the cosmos -- that no truth exists independent of the mind who creates or at least affirms it -- there seems to be some possibility -- however remote -- that the very act of communicating this truth -- by merely writing it down -- renders the truth false. The proposition "All minds find meaning on their own terms" appears to this writer as something quite like an absolute that transcends any individual mind, for it is meant to apply as the law of all minds. In other words, there is something extrinsic that binds humans together: Humans must create. There is no exception. You have no choice in the matter. And I communicate this to you: you do not find it for yourself.

That seems rather problematic.

Moreover, if I say that morality is always evolving, that an individual's personal ethics are shaped by the expectation of any social group in which an individual exists, I must admit that morality is absolutely always evolving, mustn't I? And if I admit that, then I must admit other absolutes, like what was once preferred is not now preferable; what was once good is now not; humans must change; standards are dynamic and never static. Of course there is something static, e.g., humanity, evolution, society (as a concept), and choice: humans (static) evolve (static) in society (static) willingly (static).

Have I, as I wrestle through all of this, merely mangled my arithmetic? If humans MUST create, then there is no choice; if humans evolve by willing to create, then choice is real. Irrespective of my apparent fallaciousness, the assumptions are meant absolutely: they are not created.

But none of this matters. What matters is that I do not see how to explain why a person believes what he or she does independent of that person's will. I can never, ever present a case for the truth of Christianity that could be described as irresistible. I think such a thing impossible. And I note that those who aim to discredit Christianity or theism cannot possibly argue from a position of absolute compulsion, either. There is nothing any of us can say to each other that can change another's heart. We believe, and belief is a choice.

Perhaps, then, a good question in debating another person about God's existence or non-existence is to ask what it is our interlocutor desires? What does he or she want to believe? What sort of universe do they want to accept? For if an atheist, for example, says to me that he wants his beliefs in the universe to conform to what the universe is as described and defined by science, then he is admitting that his beliefs come from outside him: he is saying that something that he did not create defines his beliefs: he can't help but submit to reason and the hard, brute facts afforded him by his senses and the scientific method. But surely this is utterly unhelpful, because now we are back where we started: we do not create meaning. Instead, the universe gives it to us -- and we submit. Absolutely. Or, so we should.

Have you ever been stymied by that person who tells you that all truth, logic and meaning are subjective, and then berates you for being a Christian, calling Christianity a "lie?" I sure have. And I am quick to note that if all truth is subjective, then, it follows that Christianity is -- at least for me -- one of those subjective truths. And if it is a subjective truth, then why is my subjectivist interlocutor critical of my choice? Or does his subjective quest for meaning include his right to be critical: he derives further meaning by berating my freely chosen worldview? How, pray tell, can my choice be wrong or even inferior? What, does it fail to correspond to some objective truth? What is that truth, how do we know it, and why are we discussing subjectivism if there is in fact an objective truth?

Such puzzles.

I am left, of course, nauseous, just like Mr. Sartre, as I consider these conundrums. But despite the nausea, I fight, nay, I WILL to believe in a universe that is fundamentally rooted in purpose, the purpose of love. I choose to believe in a universe that can and will answer our deepest questions; I choose to believe in a universe where all goodness, beauty, joy, bliss, art, genius, justice, laughter, music, color, taste -- and so many more lovely things -- are not crushed into oblivion. I choose to believe like Friedrich Nietzsche that suffering makes humanity heroic; and I believe with him that life is everlasting. But unlike that great atheist, I refuse to believe that human heroism ends in nothingness, crushed in the vast emptiness forever forsaken, cast into some unconscionable hell; nor do I believe that life recurs in some endless and vicious circularity, where we can live out our futility ad infinitum in Nietzsche's "Eternal Recurrence."

I recall once reading in The Boston Globe a review of the lovely film about Sts. Francis and Claire, "Brother Sun, Sister Moon." The capsule review, wherein the film was given one star, included this: "A film only a saint could love." I remember sneering at the reviewer's smug and ridiculous words. For latent in the remark was nothing but disdain for the holy. I retorted, "What sort of person would not want to be a saint? What sort of person gives the pursuit of holiness but one star?"

In a meaningless universe, where holiness means nothing, where love is but a dream and a whim, I protest with all due rebellion: "This is my pride -- to believe in a lie that is more beautiful than the truth! I shall be a saint!"

The empty universe does not deserve such a compliment.

Peace to you, this day, and forever.

BG

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