A Basis for Theology
One of the most interesting questions in theology and religious philosophy, at least for me, is why certain individuals and cultures opted for a particular religious framework. While this is certainly a complex issue, one can speculate at what might have been happening with seminal figures (i.e. Elijah, Moses, Jesus, Siddartha, Lao Tsé, etc.) in history who for some reason formulated their religious thinking as they did. One way to approach this question is, I think, from the standpoint of religious experience. Now, what I mean by religious experience is any experience that is interpreted as revealing something about the ultimate basis or structure of reality. I believe the issue of religious experience as a basis for forming religious sentiment has become particularly acute in this age of religious pluralism. Prominent Christian theologian Langdon Gilkey wrote:
If I were asked what are the biggest changes in theology since the first half of the twentieth century, since the great neo-orthodox days, I would mention, first, the concern for the issue of the pluralism of religions, and second, the deep, and very new, theological concern with nature.
Religious pluralism calls into question the truth and authority of a particular tradition. A survey of religious sentiment throughout history reveals both similarities and differences between religious traditions. If religion, in some way, taps into and characterizes ultimate reality this begs the question why there are differences? There are, of course, adherents who just claim that the others just got it wrong. To an objective observer these claims will, in my view, be almost always circular.
Another thing that might bother this observer is the vast amount of detail in religious philosophy that is claimed to be authoritative. Typically this authority is granted to religious scriptures. It can come in at least two varieties. For many people it is granted because the scripture is thought to have come directly from ultimate reality. In Christianity this is biblical literalism and in Vedanta Hinduism the Vedas are often thought to be śruti (”what is heard”). However, this view presents a problem for many educated individuals because of what we now know of neurobiology. This amount of detail would seem to require lots of diddling by God with synapse gaps, dendrites, etc. The more moderate and liberal branches of these traditions grant them normative authority and do not take scripture as “holy writ” but some still claim that many striking events are literally true (i.e. Virgin birth, bodily resurrection). But even in this case religious pluralism raises its ugly head.
For Christian theologians the problem of authority for religious sentiment was particularly acute in the 19th and 20th centuries. This was a time of higher criticism (historical-critical method) in biblical studies and it presented a very human view of the Bible. There were contradictions, inconsistencies, multiple authors of books, intermingled theological views, etc. So if biblical literalism could not be the source of authority what could? The solution that Friedrich Schleiermacher, Rudolf Otto, and others came to was religious experience. They claimed it was sui generis. While the irreducibility of religious experience has been contested by scholars, it still remains, in my opinion, probably the strongest contender as a valid source for religious sentiment. But even if religious experience is considered the only fundamentally sound basis for religious formulations, why are there differences in religious philosophy? I suggest that although the source of religious experience may be sui generis, the interpretations are not.
If this is true, it can create quite a quandary for the objective seeker who, for whatever reasons, seeks some religious grounding in their life. Perhaps the best we can do is seek some sort of explanation why even if religious experience comes from the same source, the interpretations may vary.
To do this it is first necessary to explore how religious experience might be the basis for a religious framework. This could, of course, be a vast undertaking (particularly if my definition is employed), but if only a few fundamental types of these experiences are examined some light might be shed on the issue. I would like to focus on reports of two types of religious experience, oneness and negativity.
One common type of religious experience is the experience of oneness. Reports abound on this type both from the mystics and everyday people as they experience life in many various ways (i.e. In nature, personal relatedness, prayer, meditation, love, etc.) Now these experiences can be taken as an illumination of some aspect of ultimate reality, but they can also be interpreted differently. These interpretations are, in my view, informed by the complete milieu of life experience, psychology, cultural influences, cognitive and emotive factors, etc. Now while this experience is of oneness it is also the experience of an individual. How is this to be resolved? How it is resolved forms an ontology that can provide a profound basis for what follows in the religious formulations. For instance in classic theism this oneness does not point to an ontological unity but a unity across some divide. For Buddhism the experience is taken to mean that individuation is an illusion (maya). For the Vishistadvaita school of Hinduism the dichotomy of unity and individuality is taken to represent a qualified monism where there is no ontological divide but that God has “aspects”. Whichever way this experience of oneness is interpreted it has extensive consequences for what follows. In the ontological-distinction interpretation any divine action will be an intervention across this divide. In the individuation-illusion model detachment and the dissolution of illusion becomes paramount. In an aspect monism model relations between God and the world are not interventionist but self-relations (i.e. No god of the gaps). All these interpretations come from the same type of experience but their interpretation forms a fundamental basis for the religious philosophy that ensues.
Let’s take another common religious experience, negativity. This can come in many forms. For the mystics, reports indicate terrifying experiences like the dark night of the soul. For others it may be the experience of evil both personal and in the world. If this experience points to ultimate reality how is it to be taken? It can be interpreted that this world is, in some way, a corruption of being or a tragic consequence of the transition from essential being to existential being as Tillich describes it. This interpretation leads to the need for salvations schemes. Witness the soteriology of Christology and in Eastern thought the drive toward enlightenment. The ultimate goal will be some type of escape from this reality to a perfect one, a cosmic healing, or enlightenment to eliminate suffering. If, however, this experience of negativity is not taken as an indication of corrupt being, the religious philosophy changes dramatically. In this view the negativity is seen as a necessary consequence of life. The presence of evil does not indicate a corrupt ontology, but a necessary component of what it means to live. If life is fundamentally a wonderful thing then the potential for evil is an acceptable consequence. The goal here will not be escape but action to promote the good.
There are, of course, other religious experiences (i.e. The personal/impersonal nature of ultimate reality, etc.) which also have profound influences on a religious philosophy. Granted what I have examined are but two examples of religious experience, a minimalistic snapshot.
What I think is that from a few basic interpretations of religious experience an adequate metaphysical foundation can be extrapolate as needed without getting into excess. Unfortunately many religious thinkers succumb to the temptation of excess. For the critical seeker this can be rather disconcerting. The problem with excess is that it calls into question the credibility of what otherwise may be soundly based on fundamentals. If religious experience is the only reasonable resource for a religious framework and neural-diddling is rejected then when extrapolations go beyond those based on fundamental experiences this is, in my view, problematic. Ultimately it will be up to the person to decide which, if any, interpretations they accept.
Steve, do I feel like idiotus maximus!
I drafted a post for your blog. A post on Gilkey and your general comments on circularity in theology. I hit some sort of hyperlink that landed my post in another blog. No clue how. I previewed my post on that other blog and I noticed some new notes about the pope in the main header. I figured I was still on your blog and that you added some pope-notes. So I added some pope-notes too! You know, for Gilkey’s sake in the comity of pluralism! So, I posted. On the wrong blog!
Thus proving your point about circularity in theology without ever landing it on the right blog!
Let’s see if I can do it right this time. I’m trying real hard, so be patient with me.
I still want to post some Gilkey observations. But not fully stripped of my pope-notes.
Talk about circularity. Wipe that grin off your face and enjoy the exponential complexity in engineering.
Here goes.
Steve, if this paragraph on the pope is a total ramble and irrelevant on your blog, please forgive me. It’s a note that slides into your Gilkey love-fest on pluralism. Please bear with me. My accidental post on the other blog included my observations of Douthat’s NYT OP-ED on Benedict’s encyclical “Caritas.” Benedict best shot at pluralism so far still grounds theology in economic solidarity with moral conservatism, and links the dignity of labor to marriage, and nods to the redistribution of wealth, and decentralized governance. Thus, Benedict is still not pluralist enough to riff off of Weber’s WASP work efficiency; but, he’s in the conversation.
One reason why this sidebar is relevant to your Gilkey note (which I want to get to) is because I noted how a Lutheran science-geek-qua-theologian friend (posting elsewhere, and influenced by the Catholic charismatic renewal) has noted that the economics department at Norte Dame no longer wants to intermix econometrics and theometrics (applied empirical theology) because Norte Dame is selling out to neoclassical economics, leaving the pope’s “Caritas” hanging like a Vox Clamantis, in the desert of economic discourse.
I noted in response that where I went to school, God’s name was Milton. Not the poet. But Friedman. Now Norte Dame bows down. What I wanted to post here was that at the same school where Friedman held court with the god-of-rational choice, Gilkey held his own tout court in a class on Barth.
Gilkey wanted to slash and burn (this is a bit too harsh) Barth’s claim of having attained a “presuppositionless” theology (see Barth’s, “Evangelical Theology’). Gilkey says Barth wanted theology immune from analyses and metricization. Yeah, a theology immune from democratized rational choice and econometrics. At least, at God’s heart of hearts. Gilkey assaults Barth’s desire for a theology immune from metricization by the sheer strength of a Word of God so active, that this Rambo-active Word blows away human presuppositions. Alas, I’d say that Gilkey did not prevail over Barth because Gilkey won the war of advocating plurality for its own sake; but, the real plurality that won out over Gilkey’s plurality amounted to Friedman’s econometric of rational choice becoming insinuated into consumer theology itself, in which consumers buy a theology of their choice.
A result Gilkey would find ironic. At best. Imprisoned we are. Back at the compound of economic choice.
This irony takes me to your comments about circularity in theology.
Sure, you’re right. Circularites hold in theology. Like derivatives in econometrics. Or, like Ptolemaic epicycles of small groups of minor Barthians adding epicycles to Barth’s active Word to make the Word according to Barth work out in a pluralistic world. Or like the very few economists left among Catholics applying the epicycles of heterodox economics to the pope’s Love.
But at the same time that Norte Dame sells out to the god of rational choice, I’m thinking that theology becomes simultaneously circular and genetic. Forget the stupid popularization of “DNA” in church planting theology. I’m thinking of genetic theology in the sense of allowing for random mutations that project a broken orthogonal direction (maybe an asymptotic) in theology empirically derived. Mutations which allow Popes to talk to us in Caritas. And Barthians to pontificate. Mutations which result in the fact that Gilkey didn’t wax Barth after all, except maybe in an amused classroom between icy stone walls at U. C., but not given the relative references to them in popular literature.
The circularity in theology is twisted. Maybe in broken helices after all.
Plurality is here to stay. So long as it’s ramified through the market place of a theometrics of rational choice. Which is not plurality at all. Which goes to Gilkey on nature: maybe Freeman Dyson is correct in saying that the new religious ecumenism will emerge and finally hold us together, in environmentalism. I’m not so sure. If actual future praxes in environmentalism follow our north American lead, that is, following in the circles (your circularity) or the legal epicycles of our history under the Environmental Protection Act, then the new ecumenism of environmentalism may just be a repeat of “rational market” choices, of selling pollution rights.
Though I’m not a buyer of ecological holism, Lynn Margulis has said that “Gaia Is a Tough Bitch.” I’m not sure whether Gilkey is right about our concern for nature, that is, whether our concern for nature is really an empirically stable and fixed trait of concern. Beyond the cheap selling of pollution rights. In a new whoring of theometrics and econometrics. Maybe Margulis (not Dyson and Gilkey) is right in saying that Gaia will bitch-slap us back before we care enough. Like Sen said too in warning the Pakistanis and Punjabs against nuclear war. Maybe Gaia will slap us hard and fast, before the epicycles of Barth’s active Word. With all due respect to Gilkey.
Comment by Jim —
Hi Jim,
Sorry for the delay in responding. I’ve been out of touch for a week and trying to catch up.
I have to admit I didn’t follow your arguments very well, probably because my lexicon is not at vast as yours. However, I’ll comment on this.
My knowledge of Gilkey is not very deep so I can’t comment on his reasons or rationale for promoting plurality. However, what ever reasons there were for or against plurality in religion, it is inevitable at this point in history. The promotion of arbitrary absolutes in religion have evaporated with the advent of the contemporary style of reasoning and employment of evidence and evidentiary intuition. Absolutes pontificated by the few no longer carry the sway they use to. Many will bow to authority whether it be a putative scriptural authority or from religious leaders, but not all. Rational choice in economics is, as in religion, the result of people opting to process information themselves and making their own choices instead of subjugating themselves to others without rigor. Whether this is good or bad for the individual or society, I cannot say because individuals are often ill equipped to make good choices outside their specialties. The gestalt of all these personal and communal choices makes for a complex “mess” with results that are uncertain. Only time will tell but my guess is that the “organism” of the world may be headed for dramatic change over the next century that will effect religious sentiment, economics, and life style. If the human race survives, it is my hope that the global “organism” will be healthier and more grounded in some beneficent moral bearing. Religious pluralism can play an important part if it does not become radicalized. Throughout history major change has come about through trial. I am of the opinion that the greatest trial of all for our planet is upon us. I’m also guardedly optimistic that this coming trial will further the telos of the universe.
Steve
Comment by Steve Petermann —
Steve,
Thanks for laying out your interesting questions and observations. Here are some of my thoughts in regard to your original post.
I would agree that individual experience would have to be at least one of the fundamental bases of religious frameworks.
I also agree with you that issues of interpretation are a critical component of experience. Even if a holy writ were materialized without any human contribution there would still be the human experience of the materialization or the finding of the materialization and the making of interpretations.
To me the issue of differences in interpretation (perceptions and meaning making) is a necessary additional fundamental component to the formation of religious frameworks. These need to become active functions for any experience (religious or otherwise) to not be still-born. Not that there would be much likelihood that experience is likely to stop at the sensation level, since we humans are major meaning makers. However we also cannot understand something without being able to relate to it, which brings in associations, other experiences, and learning and those in turn grow within the matrix of cultural frameworks, values, beliefs, behavior patterns, languages, etc. or the cultural veneer which along with personality factors creates a filter through which sensations are experienced on its way to meaning something to us. These filters influence the perception of all experiences (whether internal or external, religious or mundane) for all humans who have survived past being an infant. This statement of course is my framework based on my experience as viewed through my filters. My perspective is that of a phenomenologist.
I would go so far as to say that given the unique individual nature of people and their cultures and the filters these provide, the experiences they denominate as being of a religious or spiritual nature are by definition going to be perceived in different frameworks. Considering that institutions serve the role of normalizing the frameworks of their members, they function, in my mind, very similarly to individuals in their need for constancy, integrity, and self-perpetuation and out of that arise different orthodoxies. Some orthodoxies are constructed of frameworks that are more flexible and some more rigid than others.
It seems to me that the issue of religious differences is an issue mostly for the more rigid orthodoxies (and they are the ones that promote the impression that religion, as defined in their framework, is in fact the last or best statement) and for individuals who either feel threatened by the questions raised by those with different frameworks or for individuals who have left their orthodox religion of origin but are still in the orthodox mindset who are pursuing the construction of their own personalized framework. This latter problem surfaces due to the orthodox mindset providing a tendency to influence them to take an “either-or” approach to finding The Truth and it being fleshed out with details—an attempt to replicate the past orthodoxy they no longer subscribe to.
This raises the question of how truth and authority is to be determined. In my mind, authority always resides with the individual– like a birthright that cannot be truly given away. When authority is assigned to any one or anything it constitutes a delegation of that authority by the individual involved. In other words we can try to give that authority away as much as we want but it always comes back to the fact that we made the choice of assigning the authority. So it is a responsibility that cannot be escaped. The pursuit of The Truth is in my opinion a goal not a destination and I think that its nature is dynamic and growing. It is also in the eye of the beholder. It behooves the individual to be as aware as possible of their values, assumptions, and the clarity of their personal criteria used for testing hypotheses to avoid confounding the issue and leading themselves farther from a functional quest for the truth.
Two phrases jump out at me in this sentence: “ the objective seeker” and “religious experience comes from the same source.” I would raise the question, is there such a thing as an “objective seeker” given what I have pointed out about the personal and cultural filters affecting perception…and in my mind that includes scientists as much as anyone else.
The concept of religious experience coming from the same source implies there are sources for the religious experience and there are sources for experience that are not religious… that it is unitary in some fashion, similar to there being “something out there” that is red and has a particular shape that we call “a rose.” In other words conceptualizing religious experience as being something observed by an observer. Maybe there are no non-religious experiences and it is the quality of the experience and the self-transcendent mental stance of the individual perceiver that establishes an experience as being religious.
Your distinctions of three categories of ontology–classic theism involving a division between creator and creation; a unity with illusionary divisions; and qualified monism involving aspects of the whole existing within the whole—are very good points and can be very functional in clarifying differences in interpretations and behavioral implications.
This also provides what could be another component of a taxonomy of ontologies. That component could be categories based on the answers to, “why are we here?” and “what is the purpose of life?” minus the details of the specific religions.
I pick up on two or three different things in the above. Literalism I take as being how scripture is read, i.e. “if it says this is the word of God, then it is.” Literalism in reading would also apply to the list of “striking events” such as Virgin birth, etc. In which events are seen as literal as opposed metaphoric or some other implication than the literal description. Literalism is an application of an interpretation/perception onto the experience of reading the external content of the scripture.
The issue of “what we now know of neurobiology” and the “diddling by God” concept seems to imply there are no internal experiences that are not neurologically and physically based. I personally do not feel that that is the case and the issue of what I am, what sources of experience I have access to and my personal ontology goes well beyond the mundane, physical world our bodies reside in. Of course that is the result of my meaning-making interfaced with my perceptual filters and applied to my experiences. However, the same can be said for the ontology of “only neuron”-based sources of experience as well.
I totally agree with your closing statement.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts in this blog!
Comment by Clyde Grauke —