Why I am A/Theist
The Necker Cube best describes a common state in which I find my mind. In order to make this work, you must focus on the red dot. When you do so, the red dot will either appear as the point closest to you with the yellow side being the front face of the cube or the red dot will appear as the point farthest away from you with the yellow side being the back face of the cube. Most likely, your perspective will shift back and forth…once you focus in on one view (i.e. the yellow side forms the back face of the cube), you will get locked into it for a while; but when you allow your focus to shift, you will automatically move into the other perspective (i.e. now the yellow side forms the front face of the cube). And on and on. Try it for a while. If you do it for too long, it will drive you bonkers.
***
I can go on and on about the subject which I am soon to discuss. However, I am not going to do that. At least not now. My goal is not that my message is exhaustive; only intelligible and coherent. Besides, there is much, much more to come about this. Indeed, I have for some while been adopting this perspective and plan to make it a large project of inquiry and study in the future, even as I do now. So now, on to the issue at hand.
It has to do with so-called atheism and theism, and a way of being religious that transcends the split between these two tired poles. Before I can move on, I first must bring in my own mental Necker cube and the two ways of perception between which my perspective keeps shifting.
Perspective #1: This is the world of ‘classical theism’ (‘classical,’ not in the sense that this is how the ancient people viewed the Sacred but rather that this is the way which has shaped our modern perceptions of religion) and its response of ‘classical atheism.’ Classical theism holds that there is a supernatural being (God) that exists independent of ourselves somewhere ‘out there.’ In this view, we can know things about God, and indeed are expected by this God to either act (which includes believing) or to be a certain way (i.e. holy, righteous, moral, etc…). The response to this view by classical atheism basically holds the negated view of everything for which the classical theistic position stood- so there is no God that exists independent of ourselves, and we are thus seen to be freed from the restraints unreasonably levied by religion. God is, so to speak, dead.
But what happens when there was no God to kill in the first place? I have for some time now been struggling with the tired debate between ‘atheism’ and ‘theism.’ I am now at the point where, though I find the content interesting, more often than not, I find it to be largely irrelevant. I reject classical atheism because I reject classical theism. Classical atheism (as perhaps best exemplified in a contemporary context by the writings of the New Atheists: Richard Dawkins, Sam Harris, Christopher Hitchens) is not satisfying because it exists as a response to classical theism, which is equally not satisfying. I am not an atheist in the sense that Richard Dawkins would advocate– indeed I find his views regarding God and religion to be not only shallow, but also painfully simplistic. However, I think that he is correct in much of what he has to say against classical theism. In fact, the New Atheists make the jobs of those of us who are seeking Perspective #2 to be a bit easier, in that they obsess themselves with showing where classical theism is going ‘wrong.’ After all, though I am not a classical atheist (or, in this context, a New Atheist), neither am I a classical theist. And this leads me to Perspective #2.
Perspective #2: There is a middle ground, or rather perhaps I should say transcending ground, between/beyond classical theism and atheism– this middle ground is the domain of the Transcendent, the Sacred, Truth, Beauty, Mystery, and Life. Paul Tillich defines faith as a state of ultimate concern, and the fundamental symbol of that ultimate concern is God. Thus God is always present in any act of faith, even if that faith denies God. For as he says, “Where there is ultimate concern, God can be denied only in the name of God. One God can deny the other one. Ultimate concern cannot deny its own character as ultimate. Therefore, it affirms what is meant by the word ‘God’.” He goes on to remark that atheism can only mean the attempt to remove ultimate concern. The only possible form of atheism is that in which one is unconcerned about the meaning of one’s existence– it’s an indifference toward the ultimate question. And such indifference doesn’t meet the profile of any serious self-proclaimed atheist that I know of, certainly not Dawkins, Hitchens, or even Freud, Sartre, and Nietzsche, all famous ‘atheists’ who are/were nonetheless very concerned with the ultimate question of existence.
In contrast to the classical theistic view, this perspective holds God not just to be a figure somewhere ‘out there’ but as the very Ground of Being of all existence itself. There is Something rather than Nothing. Point made. There is Being rather than Non-being; indeed, the concept of non-being is possible at all only because there is being with which we can recognize it. Recognition and feeling presuppose being. Everything is within God. As Paul said in the book of Acts, “For in God we live and move and have our being.” But though everything is within God, God also transcends all. God is the infinite point that gives meaning to all things finite.
This view of God changes what we see as the point of religion. Indeed, the point of religion and the point of existing are one and the same. There is no more secular/sacred divide– all Reality and Truth are one. Through narrative, symbol, and ritual, religion puts us into contact with Mystery (God) and reveals to us that this Mystery is gracious. In the symbols of Christianity, this is exemplified in the self-empyting love (kenosis) that God gave away on the cross to the world that God embraces. A huge difference between Perspective 1 and Perspective 2 seems to me to come down to the role of belief versus participation. In Perspective 1, it is important that you believe the ‘right’ things– whether in it’s atheistic or theistic form. In Perspective 2, the focus is not as much on the content of belief as it is the intensity with which ultimate concern (faith) is searched for and cherished, and in all of this, experienced. It’s about taking part in the Divine Mystery, about participating in the narrative of Being. And this narrative of Being is a cosmic and existential tale, centered in Being itself, God. The symbols within particular religions (for example, in Christianity, the cross) are ways to God, and indeed are salvation in that they lead to overcoming anxiety and other barriers that keep us from participating in and knowing God.
I want to share one more quote from Paul Tillich that makes my point better than I can make it myself. This comes from his meditation The Depth of Existence where he is talking about ‘depth,’ the dimension of inexhaustibility under the surface of perceived reality. This depth is experienced when we become aware of more, of the layers of reality. It’s like the process of getting to know someone you love– each day you learn more about them and hence know them in a deeper way. This also happens with ourselves. We experience the depth of our being everyday as we learn more and more about who we are. There is always a deeper level below the surface. And on and on. In the words of Tillich:
The name of this infinite and inexhaustible depth…is God. That depth is what the word God means. And if that word has not much meaning for you, translate it, and speak of the depths of your life…Perhaps, in order to do so, you must forget everything traditional you have learned about God, perhaps even the word itself. For if you know that God means depth you know much about Him. You cannot then call yourself an atheist or unbeliever. For you cannot think or say: Life has no depth! Life itself is shallow. Being itself is surface only. If you could say this in complete seriousness, you would be an atheist; but otherwise you are not. He who knows about depth knows about God. (57)
The New Atheism is only as strong as the theism to which it responds. It does not, because it cannot, deal with such definitions of God and faith as described by Tillich above.
And this brings us back to the mental Necker Cube. I go back and forth between these two perspectives. Once I lock into one, it can be hard to shift into the other. But the shift does occur. It is a back and forth between two planes of viewing reality. Each time I shift perspectives, I encounter a series of anxious doubt and fear– I think that maybe I am wrong. Yet recently I have been drawn towards a God that I cannot deny. In the midst of the abyss of despair, God is the Ground of Being which Affirms all that is, even as God urges us forward into greater being.
Theism contains within it moments of atheism. Atheism can serve as a purifying element. But even more than that, true theism implies true atheism, just as Being implies Non-being. Being consumes Non-being with the gracious, affirming embrace.
And so I am A/Theist. At least I think so. For now. There are many things about this that I am having trouble understanding and resolving, not the least within the framework of Perspective 2. And then I wonder that maybe I’ve got it all wrong. And on and on. Journeying. Questioning. Answering. Just to question it all again. I think this is the experience of depth to which Tillich was referring.
This much I do know: I have been grasped by God. I Know and I am Known.
June 13, 2009 at 1:42 pm
Interesting stuff. I would add, though, that classical theism makes room for a God who is deeply concerned with humanity, and I think Tillich’s perspective has some difficulty accomplishing this. To use his language, God is not just our Ultimate Concern; by some cosmic mystery, we are God’s Ultimate Concern (and yes, I’m using the term “ultimate concern” equivocally here; we can’t be God’s concern in the same way that He is ours, but there are similarities). As important as it is to understand God as Depth and Ground (and I think it’s something we’ve lost in Western Christianity), let’s not forget that Ineffable God is also the God of the Prophets, for whom a single act of cruelty is a disaster. The depth of God cannot be used to deny the importance of so-called “surface” matters.
June 13, 2009 at 5:43 pm
Good points, Ben. Are you suggesting that Tillich tends towards a God that in being so, as you say, ineffable, is hence also depersonalized in the process? If so, then I would agree with you that at times, he does head in the direction of a rather depersonalized God. Elsewhere he does say that since God is most powerfully experienced through relationships with other people, then God, in being relational, must also be personal. If God is an ‘It,’ then God is less than a person; God must at least be a ‘Thou.’ And a Thou would be concerned with every instance of suffering and pain. That’s probably not a great response; and, I might have misunderstood you…
Tillich (and others) do make a point that all language about the Sacred is by it’s nature symbolic. I do agree with that. However, I also agree with you that there needs to be some way in which the surface matters are important in this scheme as well…
June 14, 2009 at 9:35 pm
I’d say that’s accurate, but my key point is this: Tillich wants to argue that atheism isn’t really viable, because atheism is the lack of Ultimate Concern, and everybody has an ultimate concern. But this doesn’t get you all the way to religion–the fundamental principle of all the monotheistic faiths is not just that man has an Ultimate Concern, but that God is deeply concerned with man. There are a lot of people who believe in some “higher purpose,” but don’t think it could possibly be interested in us. As you point out, Tillich makes God personal, but it’s not enough for God to be personal, He has to be involved with His creation! He may be concerned about pain, but that’s not the same thing as being concerned about humanity. So while Tillich may be a good response to classical atheism (and honestly, I think his critique of that sort of atheism is pretty spot-on), he doesn’t force the issue all the way to relationship with God, so I think his theology is incomplete. Does that make sense?
June 15, 2009 at 7:18 am
Ok– I think I understand. These are definitely valid and well taken areas of concern. But I would say that it’s also important to remember that for Tillich too, the cross is the central symbol of Christianity– and the cross points beyond itself to a self-emptying love and grace in which the ultimate God embraces and affirms all that is. In short, the cross says that the Ultimate Concern is gracious and indeed cares about creation. And biblical religion, unlike other vague expressions of belief in some “higher purpose,” is oriented with a hope for the future that God desires for us to have and to embrace.
This brings us to the broader question of what is the point of religion and perhaps more specifically of Christianity. Regarding the latter, is the point about bringing people ‘to Christ?’ Or, rather is it about what happens (barriers to Life that are overcome, fullness and wholeness experienced, reconcilation with the Ulimate God) when one participates in the symbol of the cross (and other symbols too)? In this view, focusing too literally on one symbol misses the point, because the important thing is not the symbol itself but the peace and reconcilation that the symbol brings.
Thanks for critically engaging these things, Ben. It really helps me to hear feedback from a different perspective. We all need voices that keep us in check.
June 15, 2009 at 7:33 am
Oh yeah, and I would of course agree with you that Tillich’s theology is in no way complete. No theology is complete. Each theological tradition is formulated within a specific context and most certainly speaks to some people more than it does to others. Theology invokes the challenge of trying to speak about that which is inifinite by using finite words– we never quite get there. And so, yes, all of it is incomplete, but still valuable and necessary. And that’s why we can keep growing and searching and moving into God.
June 16, 2009 at 7:09 pm
And thanks for giving such thoughtful replies! Although I would argue that wholeness and reconciliations aren’t justifications for “bringing people to Christ”–a lot of the greatest saints lived without substantial spiritual peace and wholeness (Mother Teresa being a prime example). Rather, I believe bringing people to Christ because it is their end. If someone asks me why I seek Good, I can only reply that Good is its own justification–it is such that all sentient beings should seek it. Likewise, I seek God and bring others to God because it is our purpose–all things came from God, and all things should return to them. Spiritual peace and wholeness are beautiful things, and they certainly aren’t opposed to the search for God. As Thomas Merton says, God WANTS us to be our true selves. But I would argue that wholeness and spiritual peace are symbols of the divine Love’s presence in our lives, and sometimes the Reality can exist even when the symbols do not.
June 23, 2009 at 9:53 pm
By spiritual peace and wholeness I was referring not to an absence of strife, doubt, and suffering but rather to the presence of a Knowing embrace and Ultimate Being that takes all of these painful things into itself. I might not have used the best choice of words in the previous comment… Indeed, as you suggest with Mother Teresa, many of the saints lived with a profound sense of restlessness (and hence with a lack of peace in the popular usage of the word) although they also seemed to know and experience a real Peace within the suffering that most people rarely encounter.
“All things came from God, and all things should return to God” — that is such a beautiful notion. If one were to define God as the ultimate ground of all being, indeed the depth of our experience, I am still not sure that the cross can be literalized beyond a symbol that points to this depth of reality– thus bringing people to Christ would not be an end in and of itself but would rather be a way to express the depth of reality as affirming, and grounded in love. As such then, while the symbol of the cross might express this Reality the best (maybe not), there would also be other symbols that point toward this depth of Reality. Indeed, as you suggest, the Reality can exist even when the symbols do not. So the Reality would then seem to somehow transcend the symbols. Perhaps this means that the Reality of love and affirmation at the deepest level of existence is not dependent on the cross, although the cross best demonstrates this reality to us. I don’t know, that is my question/dilemma. Ok, now my head is spinning.
June 26, 2009 at 10:32 am
I’m a little confused your use of the word “literalizing”–do you just mean “consider it a historical event”? In other words, are you saying that you’re not sure if it’s possible/advisable to view the cross as an historical event? I don’t know very many people who doubt the historicity of the Crucifixtion–the resurrection, sure, but almost everybody agrees that Jesus died.
That aside, I would argue that Christ is more than a symbol of the Ultimate Reality, he IS the Ultimate Reality. So when you bring someone to Christ, that is literally the same as bringing that person to the Ultimate Reality. If you’d like to refer to the events of Jesus’ life, such as the Cross and Resurrection, as symbolic, that’s fine. No one event can ever encapsulate Jesus. It also means that other symbols (even those from–gasp!–other religions) can lead people to authentic experiences of the Ultimate.
So then, what’s the specific value of the Cross? It’s a two-way symbol; it points beyond us to the Ultimate, and it points back to the particular. The Ultimate Reality can never be fully grasped by abstract thought or spiritual experience, so you can’t develop a rule of life based on that. The Cross is the ultimate symbol of the life one should lead–because it’s concrete, it can do what abstract visions of the Divine cannot. Does that make sense?