On Human Religiosity

Themes: Critique, On Knowing God, Pedagogy

What does it mean to have a sense of God? What kind of sense would this be? Is it a sense, like sight or taste, that is attuned to our environs, focussed on matters of substance? Or is it like a sense of beauty, another kind of ‘taste’ – not so much a perception but a relation to a perceptual order? Is our ‘sense of God’ something that arises from our relation to the world as we find it in the content of other perceptions?

The Cognition, Religion and Theology Project at Oxford University recently completed a major study of the human disposition to believe in gods and an afterlife. At one level, the study appears to have been an exercise in spending large amounts of time and money on proving the blatantly obvious: humanity is incorrigibly religious.¹

The £1.9 million project involved 57 researchers who conducted over 40 separate studies in 20 countries representing a diverse range of cultures. The studies (both analytical and empirical) conclude that humans are predisposed to believe in gods and an afterlife, and that both theology and atheism are reasoned responses to what is a basic impulse of the human mind.

Project Co-Director Professor Roger Trigg:

We have gathered a body of evidence that suggests that religion is a common fact of human nature across different societies. This suggests that attempts to suppress religion are likely to be short-lived as human thought seems to be rooted to religious concepts, such as the existence of supernatural agents or gods, and the possibility of an afterlife or pre-life.’

This last quote is particularly telling and appears to confirm the results of the most rigorous and widespread multi-generational studies of the phenomenon of human religiosity, namely, those undertaken in the systematically atheistic societies of the USSR and China. These cases both provide remarkable data: the USSR unparalleled for geographical expanse and cultural diversity; China for sheer size of population. Both these projects in atheistic social engineering encountered remarkable resistance, and I don’t simply mean that some ‘religious’ people clung fiercely to their beliefs and chose martyrdom rather than apostasy. There were two more innate and (ultimately) more subversive forms of resistance, both of which tend to support the claim that humanity is an inherently religious species.

The first was demonstrated by the persistence of religiosity despite the destruction of its organisational forms. The natural focus for opposition to religion in both the USSR and Communist China were formal religious institutions: Churches, temples, shrines, monasteries, places for the training of the professional religious classes. Many were dealt with brutally. It seems to me that we could frame this an an experimentation upon the hypothesis, that “religiosity is propagated and sustained by religious institutions/classes of people.” The hypothesis was tested with exceptionally severe rigor. I assume that the hypothesis was generated out of the intuition that religion functioned within society as a means by which power was exercised by a few over the many (certainly, Marxist thinkers expressed their intuition in these terms). Religion was a mechanism, alongside private property, access to capital, access to education, through which societies structured their power relations. But if the essence of religion is social control, when one removes the ability of religion to provide this function (by destroying its organisational form and organising ability), religion should die, its superstitious garments simply withering away. But does religion without control implode, like the unmasked Wizard of Oz?

As stated above, this theory was tested. Rigorously. And shown conclusively to be wrong. The human impulse to religiosity is not imposed, generated or sustained by ‘external’ modes of control.² As the atheistic regimes in the USSR and China discovered, the result of the suppression of religious organisations was not the destruction of religion but the destruction of theology or its equivalents: the destruction of rationalised forms of religion. Religiosity continued, even rapidly expanded in some places, but frequently in the form of ‘folk’ religion. The atheist regimes found themselves increasingly battling against cults (and ironically, increasingly found themselves being turned into cults). It became apparent that the religious organisations that had been suppressed were primarily modes of systematisation of religious impulses, not the cause of them.³ And when the various religious organisations were suppressed, the result was not the destruction of religion but its disorganisation. The conclusion appears to be that while the forms in which the religious impulse is expressed may be dependent on systematic religious organisation, and these religious organisations may function as a vehicle of social control (as was recognised with great clarity in Tudor England),  the religious organisation is not the source of general religiosity, it is the result.⁴

The second form of resistance that ‘religiosity’ demonstrated against atheistic attempts to destroy it has been already mentioned: it was the remarkable way in which religious forms insinuated themselves into purportedly ‘atheistic’ social structures and organisations. The more fiercely anti-religious the various Marxist reformation movements became, and the more they were successful in their destruction of organised religion, the more they began to resemble civil religions themselves. The most powerful symbol and example of this atheistic cult was perhaps the embalmed Lenin in Red Square (a source of embarrassment to many of Lenin’s more rigorously Marxist comrades, including his wife). The atheist cult extended to the canonisation and study of particular texts; the posthumous ‘deification’ of particular leaders; Communist Youth Groups (who directly lifted their organisational structures from prior Christian versions); most profoundly, ‘religious’ narratives about time and space, history and country, which were ultimately, religiously constructed narratives of identity. The more vigorously ‘Religion’ was suppressed, the more religion returned. The State increasingly found itself at the centre of popular worship.

I’d like to take some time (at some stage) to explore what this ‘sense of god/the gods’ might be: I don’t propose to leave my opening questions completely unresolved. But even if we set that investigative project to one side, there are a number of interesting implications that flow from the conclusion that humans have a disposition toward religiosity.

First, the common atheistic call for the abandonment of religious education in schools is incredibly naïve. The contemporary militant proponents of atheism routinely argue that religious education is an abuse of religious/parental power, children should not be indoctrinated with religion until their critical faculties have matured to a point where they will be able to (inevitably) reject it as superstitious foolishness. The underlying hypothesis appears to be a version of the one I mentioned above: that “religiosity is propagated through religious institutions (religious education)”, and that humans, if left to their own devices, would be irreligious. Simply put, the best science is against this position. The removal of religious education would not remove religiosity from our children, it would simply deprive them of any contact with collective, systematic, rational reflection on their religiosity. Removing religious education will not make people irreligious, just religious and uneducated.⁵

Secondly, the ‘decline of religion’ in contemporary Western societies is a myth. What we have witnessed is not a decline in religion, but a shift in its expression away from the organised (and sometimes enthusiastically disorganised) modes of reflection that have served our societies over the past century. Christians shouldn’t be particularly shocked by this, while human religiosity is constant, the form in which this is expressed shifts constantly.⁶ Any reading of the Old Testament would establish this claim from the experience of Israel. What is perhaps unusual and interesting about our contemporary situation is the colossal bad faith in which our worship is undertaken. We live in a time, perhaps not unlike the period during which ‘atheistic’ Christianity rose to prominence in the Roman Empire, when the dominant forms of religiosity in our society refuse the label ‘religion’. Where that will end is a matter for others to divine.

All the nations may walk in the name of their gods; we will walk in the name of the LORD our God for ever and ever. (Micah 4:5 NIV)

Image by Vicki Wolkins

Footnotes
1. It must be said, however, that the Oxford Study was very instructive, not least for the methodology employed and the diversity of samples taken.↑
2. What we mean by ‘external’ at this point is questionable, but probably something along the lines of, not universally shared but imposed by a distinct (minority) group upon the society as a whole↑
3. I do not mean to deny by this that religious organisations can serve other purposes, including social control↑
4. The Chinese communist party has shown itself to be significantly wiser (and more pragmatic) by seeking to control religious organisations rather than simply banning them.↑
5. Those arguing against contemporary forms of religious education would be better advised to bite the bullet and own up to the fact that what they really desire is not a religiously neutral education but an atheistic one, and that atheism (at its best, which is hardly ever) is just as much a systematic, rational reflection on human religiousity as any other form of developed theology.↑
6. I recently came across a fascinating book entitled Oprah: The Gospel of an Icon, a study of Oprah as the embodiment of ‘spiritual capitalism’.↑

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Divine Beauty

Themes: Beauty, On Knowing God

For all those undertaking theological study this year (whether as a student at a College, as the theologian gifted to a christian community, or just for the love of God)…

Karl Barth has a wonderful discussion of the attributes of God (his ‘perfections’) in the second volume of the Church Dogmatics. The final of these studies is his examination of the concept of God’s glory. An element of God’s glory, according to Barth, is the truth that the form of his works is beautiful. Scripture consistently witnesses to the idea that all God’s works call out our joy (he relies upon an argument that joy is the response called forth by beauty). God’s glory is not only his goodness, which could be solemn and severe, but his beauty. His works awaken righteous desire, rejoicing. And he draws the delicious (and proper) conclusion that therefore the task of theology should be joyful, not boring, beautiful.

At this point we may refer to the fact that if its task is correctly seen and grasped, theology as a whole, in its parts and in their interconnexion, in its content and method, is, apart from anything else, a peculiarly beautiful science. Indeed, we can confidently say that it is the most beautiful of all the sciences. To find the sciences distasteful is the mark of the Philistine. It is an extreme form of Philistinism to find, or to be able to find, theology distasteful. The theologian who has no joy in his work is not a theologian at all. Sulky faces, morose thoughts and boring ways of speaking are intolerable in this science. May God deliver us from what the Catholic Church reckons one of the seven sins of the monk—taedium [tedium] —in respect of the great spiritual truths with which theology has to do. But we must know, of course, that it is only God who can keep us from it.

(Karl Barth, “The Eternity and Glory of God”, Church Dogmatics, § 31 “The Perfections of the Divine Freedom.” Volume II,1, 656).

Don’t you find this compelling? If our thought is properly theological it should call forth joy, not exasperation, in both ourselves and our hearers. The theologian should be the most joyful of people, because he or she is called to the contemplation of the ultimately Exquisite. The first commandment of theology is: Love the LORD your God with all your heart, mind, soul, and strength. And the beauty of God is such that, giving himself freely to be loved, drawing lovers to himself, those who love him and come to know him through that love, are filled with an unshakeable and inexpressible joy. His beauty calls forth beauty. His glory, our rejoicing.

Seriously, that’s theology done in the mode of the Book of Psalms, right?

I have asked one thing from the LORD; it is what I desire: to dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, gazing on the beauty of the LORD and seeking Him in His temple. (Psalms 27:4 HCSB)

Amen.

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Father Brown

Themes: On Knowing God

Everywhere I go I hear Christians whinging about social justice: why don’t other Christians live out their faith? Where are the practical works to benefit the Poor and Oppressed?
I have never met a single one of these people who was willing to don a cape and undies and actually go out there and Fight Crime for Jesus.
Why not?
BECAUSE THEY ARE SOFT.

Yes.
I am calling out to anyone who is really ready to Reveal the Wrath of God against All Unrighteousness. You know what I’m talking about – solving Mysteries, battling Minions, and Old Time Religion.
It shall be known as…
“The League of Righteousness” (hereafter as “The League”).

It was G. K. Chesterton got me thinking along these lines. I occasionally read his Father Brown stories when I’m wrung out and need to relax. Father Brown is a small, unremarkable-looking, catholic-priest-version of Sherlock Holmes. Along with his penchant for Solving Mysteries and Fighting Crime, he never passes on a good opportunity to make profound theological speeches (I like to think of it as his ‘Secret Power’).

This one is a corker (admittedly the exegesis is a little shonky):

‘I know the Unknown God,’ said the little priest, with an unconscious grandeur of certitude that stood up like a granite tower. ‘I know his name; it is Satan. The true God was made flesh and dwelt among us. And I say to you, wherever you find men ruled merely by mystery, it is the mystery of iniquity. If the devil tells you something is too fearful to look at, look at it. If he says something too terrible to hear, hear it. If you think some truth unbearable, bear it.
(Chesterton, “The Purple Wig” in The Wisdom of Father Brown, 181)

Doesn’t that get you in the mood for Solving Mysteries?

Here is a task for theologians, philosophers, and scientists:
to tear down false mystifications in the light of The Mystery Made Known.

“We demolish arguments and every high-minded thing that is raised up against the knowledge of God, taking every thought captive to the obedience of Christ.” (2 Cor 10:5 HCSB)

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communion and doctrine

Themes: On Knowing God

[More important than all is] a diligent endeavor to have the power of the truths professed and contended for abiding upon our hearts, that we may not contend for notions, but that we have a practical acquaintance within our own souls. When the heart is cast indeed into the mould of the doctrine that the mind embraceth—when the evidence and necessity of the truth abides in us—when not the sense of the words only is in our heads, but the sense of the thing abides in our hearts—when we have communion with God in the doctrine we contend for—then shall we be garrisoned by the grace of God against all the assaults of men.

Quoted by John Piper in The Future of Justification from John Owen, Vindiciae Evangelicae; or, The Mystery of the Gospel Vindicated and Socinianism
Examined, Vol. 12, The Works of John Owen, ed. William Goold (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth,
1966), 52.

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Conversation: the point of things

Themes: On Knowing God

Creak your armchair over to mine for a moment, we’re going to have a conversation.

I’m trying to work out the point of things. I have an hour.

Aren’t we meant to wait until the long afternoons and daylight savings for that sort of work? We need a verandah.

What do you think this means: The chief end of man is to glorify God and to enjoy him forever?

The Westminster Shorter Catechism?
Isn’t it all in the verbs? whatever it means, its got to do with those two verbs, ‘glorify’ and ‘enjoy’. Strange that there are two verbs but only one ‘chief end’.

Two activities, but what kind of action? Are these not really actions, just active verbs masquerading as actions? What is it to ‘enjoy’ something? Do I do it, or is it done to me? What about ‘glorifying’? It seems more straightforward, I glorify someone, there is a subject and a patient. But that’s just grammar, what does the activity consist in?
Isn’t it possible to glorify someone by not doing anything, just by existing? The way a great painting glorifies the Master.

So…
It’s quite possible that man attains his end just by being.

Isn’t that what you would expect for the handiwork of the Creator?

What am I doing then? Why am I restless?

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Faith seeking understanding

Themes: Faith, On Knowing God

Faith arises in us under the creative impact of the self-witness and self-interpretation of God in his Word, and in response to the claims of his divine reality upon us which we cannot reasonably or in good conscience resist. It takes the form of a listening obedience to the address and call of God’s Word and the specific beliefs that are called forth from us like this entail at their heart a conceptual or epistemic consent to divine truth and become interiorly locked into it. (T. F. Torrance, The Trinitarian Faith, p. 21)

We must learn from God himself what we are to think of him, for ‘God cannot be apprehended except through himself.’ (T. F. Torrance, The Trinitarian Faith, p. 21)

On the one hand, then, faith is characterised by a certainty of conviction which derives its force from the truth of God himself thrust upon it, but on the other hand, faith is characterised by an open, ever-expanding semantic focus which answers to the unfathomable mystery and inexhaustible nature of God. (T. F. Torrance, The Trinitarian Faith, p. 22)

pic by martinonflickr

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