Wednesday, June 30, 2010

A Religious Life: Looking Back at One of My Theist Posts

[He holds the secret to the life you really want.]

Behold, a person struggling to find faith and to hold onto it. Here is an excerpt from me, February 2005:
What does it take to live a religious life?

I don’t mean “religious life” necessarily in the sense of being diligently observant of Jewish, Christian, or Muslim rituals. Certainly a religious life would entail one’s being observant in this way, but I think it is more important to be philosophically committed to the core ideas of one’s religion.

Abstract, egghead terms like “philosophically committed” are easy to dismiss. What I mean, though, is a kind of default mindset, a natural way of thinking all the time. As an example, I remember that my wife and I, at an early point in our relationship, understood that we were going to be together, to be married, and to build a life together. Breaking up or not being together ceased to be any part of our thinking – these thoughts [edited by me] ceased to be at all likely outcomes of anything happening in our lives.

I want this same kind of comfort and stability in my relationship with religion, specifically Judaism. I want to have a similar kind of entrenched commitment to and belief in a Jewish understanding of the universe. Obviously, I don’t feel that I live a religious life or that I have a strong internal foundation of Jewish belief.
Looking back, I see that I felt as though I should believe. I thought that the proper thing was to have belief. Not believing, or not believing in a natural enough way, was somehow a flaw in me. And here's how I rationalized:
Having doubt is perhaps a virtue. Posing questions about G-d, even directly to G-d, is about as Jewish as you can get. Besides, who can take seriously a person unwilling to examine his or her own spirituality? The problem for me is that I never seem to reach a point where I can say, “OK, I believe. Tomorrow, I might have doubts again, but right at this moment, I fully and genuinely believe in and love G-d.”
And I found the clergy to be of little help in my search for knowing God:
I understand that the best way to overcome my doubt is to study Torah, perform mitzvot, and participate in a Jewish community. Reading advice columns and other commentary – such as can be found abundantly online – provides little help for me.

For example, in “Is the Divine Just a Cosmic Party Pooper?” Rabbi David Aaron says, “People think that serving G-d is demeaning; servitude implies a slave-master relationship. But that is not the real meaning of serving G-d. The opportunity to serve G-d is the greatest gift we could ever imagine. It's empowering. To serve G-d means that we can do something on behalf of G-d. It's an unbelievable honor!”

If this formulation of the matter is intended to be persuasive, I don’t find it so – it’s essentially a he-said, she-said. One person equates serving G-d as a form of diminution; another feels honored to serve G-d.
How many people now are struggling to believe? How many people today feel abnormal or bad for having less than perfect faith? Heck, even many in the clergy don't believe!

And yet, book catalogs and bookstores are filled with "self-help" works designed to lead people to their perfect faith. Religious figures sell DVDs to the masses and appear on television to encourage them and lead their worship. They appear in person before the throngs. They stride about the stage, in front of a high-energy chorus and contemporary band. They speak confidently and ebulliently before video screens. Keep praying, the leader urges. Activate your faith! Tap into the timeless values of the Bible! Exercise your soul! Deepen your spiritual practice! Walk with God! Experience the revolution that Jesus started!

It's a grift, a confidence game played upon the nostalgic and sentimental masses by an industry that knows, above all, that people will freely give money. The synagogue/church/mosque promises to give people God or Jesus, promises to help fill their lives with meaning and purpose, promises to put the people in touch with a reality greater and better than they can possibly imagine.

People like the leaders of the synagogue/church/mosque and trust them. People attend the services, giving money (of course), time, energy and attention. People support the explicit mission and message of the worship factory. But people aren't sure how or why to pray to either a father-figure who often seems cruel and petty or a sainted son who appears really neither divine nor human. And the religious industry practically feeds off of this kind of uncertainty. The industry is constituted by the cognitive dissonance of the polished words from the well-groomed religious leader, on the one hand, and the vile deeds of the object of worship, on the other hand.

Of course, this is why the so-called New Atheists ruffle the feathers of believers. The NAs not only ask for evidence and clear reasoning on religious claims, and they not only question the special authority and deference given to religious figures: the NAs also affirm the very natural and normal skepticism that people have about religious claims and religious-based authority.

As a struggling theist I already knew my path to, ahem, salvation:
One way I need to find, explore, and express my beliefs is to argue for them.
For me, writing the arguments was the best way forward. Reading about them, thinking about them, considering them, expressing them in my own way, refining them, and working (with) them as much as possible. These processes ultimately led me to reject the struggle to maintain and cultivate religion's artificial worldview. By trying to make religion my own, I claimed myself.

Today, I know people who want to have a better faith, who wrestle with doubt. Unless they ask me to, I won't intervene in their personal explorations, but I hope they come to see that there is no better faith and there is no struggle.

5 comments:

  1. It's a grift, a confidence game played by a cynical industry upon the nostalgic and sentimental masses. People aren't sure how or why to pray to a father-figure who often appears cruel and petty or a sainted son who appears really neither divine nor human. The religious industry practically feeds off of this kind of uncertainty.

    Perhaps I am missing something obvious, but I don't understand why you describe the faith business (as one might uncharitably call it) as a grift and a confidence game. I understand your complaining that the product—techniques of producing or sustaining or strengthening religious faith—doesn't work for you. But it seems to have lots of contented customers. Perhaps your claim is that, appearances to the contrary, it does not really work even for them. But by what criterion do you evaluate the effectiveness of the product, if not the satisfaction of the consumers? I don't say that no other standard is possible; I just don't see what yours is.

    ReplyDelete
  2. MKR,

    A good question. I'm using "grift" in the sense of an attempt to defraud by gaining the confidence of the 'mark.'

    I tried to clarify that section you quoted. Here is the relevant part: "The synagogue/church/mosque promises to give people God or Jesus, promises to help fill their lives with meaning and purpose, promises to put the people in touch with a reality greater and better than they could possibly imagine.

    People like the leaders of the synagogue/church/mosque and trust them. People attend the services, giving time, money, energy and attention. But people aren't sure how or why to pray to a father-figure who often appears cruel and petty or a sainted son who appears really neither divine nor human. And the religious industry practically feeds off of this kind of uncertainty. The industry is constituted by the cognitive dissonance of the polished words nearly sung by the well-groomed religious leader and the vile deeds of the object of worship."

    I don't know that the point comes across that I really mean, at that is my outrage at seeing people (people I know and like/love) who are rapt (or is it "wrapped"?) in anxiety and guilt about feeling distant from God.

    I think guilt is one of the most awful emotions, and yet I think so many belief systems establish themselves by defining the individual as always-already (to use the pomo expression) in a state of having transgressed and of having failed. The default position of a person is burdened.

    What are your thoughts?

    ReplyDelete
  3. I was perplexed for a while about how I could have missed that passage, before I figured out that you inserted new material!

    My understanding now is what you mean by the confidence game is this: a life filled with meaning and purpose is promised to those who believe; the believers, or many of them, achieve no such life; but, because they still believe in the promise, they blame themselves rather than the faith vendors for this outcome.

    If that's what you have in mind, I find it unconvincing on two counts. First, as I said before, there are plenty of "customers" who profess satisfaction with the "product" (those are my terms, not yours, but I take them to be consistent with your metaphor of the confidence game). Even if you think that their satisfaction is somehow false or ill-founded, they certainly do not fit your characterization of the victims of the supposed confidence game as filled with guilt and anxiety.

    Second, it seems to me extremely implausible to suppose that the leaders of religious organizations are, as you say, "cynical," which would mean that they know the confidence game for what it is and that only the laity is taken in. That does not sort very well with what I know of the psychology of cognitive biases. Even fortune tellers, psychics, and the like, far more often than not, believe in the reality of their supposed paranormal powers.

    Where I think you've got a strong case is in your mention of "the very natural and normal skepticism that people have about religious claims and religious-based authority." As long as "people" here is understood in an indefinite sense, i.e., as meaning "a lot of people," rather than "all people," I think that it is quite right to characterize skepticism toward religious claims as "natural and normal."

    As far as I can tell, defenders of religious belief (or of particular religious beliefs) have only two kinds of response to this natural skepticism. One consists in arguments intended to establish that God exists or that he revealed the Torah to Moses or that Jesus was resurrected or whatever. My experience has been that such arguments offer some of the most persuasive evidence for the utter groundlessness of their conclusions; for none of them stand up to critical examination. The other offering is a purported way to faith without rational grounds, such as observing the rituals of a religion so diligently and persistently that the habit of acting as if you believe becomes actual belief. Obviously, that is a method that may work for some people but is not generally reliable.

    ReplyDelete
  4. MKR,

    Your understanding is good, except at that part where you say (that I say) believers "achieve no such life."

    In fact, I think--although I may not be expressing it clearly--that many (if not most) achieve SOME such life SOME of the time.

    I have observed Christian evangelical services. They are quite stirring and uplifting. People enjoy them -- the Sunday services are high-energy, well-structured, and a real event for the audience.

    I have also observed the small groups that these churches encourage, whether it be a Bible study on a Tuesday or a family/parenting group on a Wednesday.

    My point is that even the "satisfied customers" perceive a disjunction between their Sunday and their weekday experiences. Indeed they meet on the weekdays to try and figure out how to bring out the Sunday in their lives every day.

    Your second point is a good one, and I agree that many (if not most) clergy and religious organization leaders are sincere in their beliefs. However, I think I mean that these people are quite aware that they can acquire significant wealth for their organizations, and thereby themselves, through their activity.

    In your final paragraph, I like your characterization of the two responses to what we can call "natural skepticism." My understanding, however, if that an additional response--or a response combined with one or both of the others--is the re-framing of that "natural skepticism" as an evil impulse, or foolish, or vain.

    Thanks!

    ReplyDelete
  5. Rambam3:33 PM

    OK I am the Maimonides Guide II.33 guy again.. how stupid of me for not thinking to just use a consistent alias here.

    Your post (the theist one) describes exactly how I felt when I was a theist.

    The nice thing is that all of that went away when I embraced atheism. There is no shaky conflicts I have to try to steer my mind away from. There are still all of life's great questions that I can't answer, but I don't feel in the least that theism explains anything any better.

    I still read about the atheism/theism debate constantly even though I rarely learn anything new, as theism really has no "new" arguments. I can't quite figure out why I still try to formulate all the arguments like you do.

    I guess I still really *want* theism to be true.

    ReplyDelete

Feel free to comment if you have something substantial and substantiated to say.