Wednesday, January 23, 2013

IN DEFENSE OF FAITH


It’s a cold winter day and I’ve been reading a book about atheism by Christopher Hitchens called “God is Not Great.”  The book is as cold as the day.  Strangely, I don’t ever seem to feel threatened or annoyed or angered by these sorts of somewhat self-righteous screeds against religion.  God knows, religion deserves all of the abuse that it gets.  There are parts of Christianity that are every bit as ridiculous, tyrannical, and divisive as the Hitchens says they are.  Our faith tradition has caused wars and created injustice and promoted ignorance and, yes, we should be a little sheepish about being associated with all of that.   Of course, the same could be said about any human enterprise.  Religions are as flawed and corrupted as we are and so is every human endeavor.  But all of the recently assertive writings against religion by our current crop of atheists are just so shallowly inadequate in their understanding of who we are and what faith is all about, that it’s hard to take them all that seriously.

The problem with atheism is that it asserts a certainty where certainty is not possible.  It is precisely the same problem that fundamentalism has.  Where most of the important things about life and the cosmos remain and probably will always remain beyond our comprehension, on the subject of what we can know, we must always be agnostics;  seekers rather than asserters.  Atheists assert. They tend to presume to know things that cannot be known.  It’s the same thing for which they condemn religious beliefers.  Oh the irony.

The deeper issue though, is the problem of absolutes and where we find our meaning.  How do we decide what is right or wrong?  How do we locate the real meaning and significance of our lives?  For a person of faith, the answer is that we have something that we consider absolute.  Our relationship with what we call God is the one thing that determines who we are and what we most value.  Atheists tend to think that religion is about some particular doctrines.  They think that life is this intellectual puzzle and religion gives people a set solution to the puzzle in the form of what we are told to believe.  Of course, that is not what religion really is.  At heart, religion is not what you believe, but what you choose to live for.  It is about what you give your life to.  And we all, regardless of what we believe, give our lives to something.  There is always some meaning that makes us get up in the morning and do something rather than nothing; that makes us choose whether to be selfish or generous, kind or cruel, loving or hateful.  Our faith is not the contention of our mind but the commitment of our heart.

What this really means is that there in no such thing as atheism.  Every day that we live, every choice that we make, every relationship that we enter is a religious issue.  We do one thing rather than another because something in life has value for us more than other things.  Some people label that ultimate something in their lives “God,” others give it a different name.  Hitchens says he believe only in the power of science.  As I say, it seems a cold faith to give ultimate value to an abstract process, and in his case, an angry faith that needs to assert its sole claim to truth.

The real question is whether that thing that we give our lives to is worth what we are giving.  Does what we value most ultimately really have an ultimate value?  Does the object of our faith deepen and enrich our lives?  Does it connect us deeply with each other, with our forbearers, with our future?  Does it do justice to the beauty, to the mystery, to the magnificent sweep of life?  Or is it too narrow, or too limited, or too parochial to really fit the highest aspirations of our lives and the deepest agonies that we face? 

The reason that our religious communities are and always will be essential, is that we all need to continue together to examine what we are living for, to plumb the depths of what our faith is, to search for that reality of meaning in a God as grand as our hopes and as deep as our fears.  I hope that in our little faith community, you find your God always growing, your faith always surprising you, your relationship to the love of God always getting deeper and richer and more compelling. 

I feel warmer already.