Religion, Science, and the Real Flaw When Talking About “God”

Common theistic arguments (including fideism)
Common atheistic arguments (that aren’t much better)
A proper notion of “God” in metaphysical philosophy (as opposed to pop-Christianity and pop-atheism)
The origin of fundamentalism (and why they shouldn’t get to speak for all of Christianity)
The scientific community’s problem with religion
The role of Intellectual Value Systems as the real problem in metaphysical debates
The phenomenological issue of the religion/science debate
Confronting category errors on both sides of the debate
A word from Doubting Thomas
How the conversation should move forward

Introduction

The frequent, anecdotal expositions aimed at proving and disproving God are, quite frankly, boringly predictable. Shrouded by confirmation bias, such arguments, proofs, and debates are a case in substantiating a predetermined belief by finding any information that conveniently approves what one already considers true. Those who do not share in such enlightenment are, at best, wrong and in need of your wisdom and, at worst, monstrously dismissed.

The opinionated premises that follow just aren’t that interesting.

Therefore, before we can begin having proper conversations on metaphysics, we need to address the mundane flaw that is in the way.

Part One — Mundane Arguments

Theists who embody this weary disposition frame arguments that hark on passionate analogies which, to those of non-theistic tendencies, are terrific banalities.

There is a romantic quality to the magical proofs of apparent divine intervention in a specific episode of one’s life or the clamor of certainty based on how pretty, ordered, and designed the world appears (according to the specific evidence to which they are apt to recognize and not according to those contradictions which they fail to mention). Delving deeper, many a theologian may point to the moral argument for God’s existence — that the very notion of good and evil must be given by a god-like being. Aha! See! God exists. No credence is given to the nuance of human consciousness, the ambiguities of such moral assertions, and how morality as a blanket statement belies a simple and direct connection to metaphysical certainty.

Such treatises, of which there are much more, usually end with a devotion to belief; that the mystery of faith affirms what one has concluded ought to be affirmed. Appeals to some science and philosophy quickly degenerate into circular reasoning and theological treatises with such adamant proposals that God pursues us and Jesus is an epistemological determinant of divine revelation. Making an argument on a culturally informed and biased belief about the nature of a divine being as the proof of that divine being’s existence isn’t going to work — socially or theoretically. There is a reason that common apologetic tactics never really seem to convince anyone. Except for the actual goal — which appears to be to strengthen the proclaimer’s resolve with their internal base patting them on the back — there is not much discussion here worthy of attention.

But let me strike a chord with an ax — the arguments from atheists, materialists, naturalists, and the stereotypical positions of the “scientific” community, while typically more nuanced and with a progressive resonance of intellectualism, aren’t all that different.

From the “god of the gaps” reasoning to the problem of suffering or simply using the obfuscating tactic of calling out the irrational claims of poor theistic arguments as a confirmation that such a god does not exist — we have the same posturing under a different shroud. Conveniently, both perspectives harness arguments that clearly affirm their truth and superstitious certainty permeates the cultural landscape where opinion reigns as fact.

My opinion, if I may join the gamut, is that the latter group is not wrong.

God, as presented in the dominant conversation, does not exist.

Because the mundane conversation theistically offered is not, in fact, a proper metaphysical conversation.

More concisely, the common theistic arguments do not confirm a transcendent reality. Not only do they also not come close to making a case for their religious tradition’s specific characterization of transcendence, they pitch such easily deconstructed arguments that it is like throwing underhand to a major league baseball player. Unfortunately, the opposing side disproportionately concludes that theism is wrong.

Yet, to only consider the contemporary, popular arguments as the standard for making a claim on either side might be an art in missing the point. Our attention, when the existence of transcendence is brought up, might require us to confront a more subtle context in the paradigm of religion and science.

Maybe we are not thinking rightly about the idea of God.

In the age of opinion, I am prompted to share mine.

Part Two — Pop-Theism, Pop-Atheism, & the Notion of God

To play my hand, my most visible career identifier is that I am clergy in the Christian tradition. Because of this background and because the majority of this debate occurs in the context of Christian belief systems, I will particularly emphasize this angle.

Yet, there is a good chance that an unfortunate event just occurred.

I just got painted with a particular brush; one that I do not consider an accurate descriptor of my perspective and one that I adamantly disagree is accurate of the Christian tradition as I understand it.

Those who identify as part of the various categories of atheistic adherence have assumed that the value of reading any further is void. This decision may be rash. In my experience, the conversations I have had with atheists who have diligently arrived at their perspective congeals with my understanding more than the permeating Christianity that haunts modern America.

If we were to utilize the mainstream depiction of Christianity in the West as the holistic definition of Christianity I would not be able to remain within such a name. I have yet to hear a portrayal of Christianity on popular media or by brand name theologians, pastors, or public speakers (you know, usually the ones with the really large, hip churches) that reflects the slightest remnant of orthodoxy. Alas, Christianity is a wide and broad tradition for which I ought to be grateful. But the strain which has crept into dominant consciousness is one that I would prefer to be called something else.

There are many reasons for this. Some are cultural, some are social, some are ethical, and some are personal. But the main reason for my preferred diversion is philosophical and, by extension, theological. This form of Christianity is not abstract either. We can literally mark a location in history with a formal organizational substance of what is referred to as evangelical fundamentalism. Coming off the Second Great Awakening and the revival phenomenon of early America, by 1909 “The Fundamentals” took shape as a reaction against the developments in society and cemented five beliefs that, they understood, demarcated true Christianity. And now, at least in the popular mindset, this is Christianity in America — a particular form that is only 111 years old. To which I often find myself wondering, “What about the other almost 2000 years and the plethora of locations through history?”

So I ask, dear reader, do not paint me with that brush.

Yet, as there is a sort of pop-Christianity that obscures the landscape, the same is true of atheism and its relative proponents from materialism to humanism. The atheists that I have found to be the most enjoyable company are the ones who also disclaim that they are not to be painted with their faction’s dominant brush.

The most unfortunate outcome of this socio-cultural development, however, is that the current conversation at hand requires an extensive amount of frustrating work to combat the vast amount of unhelpful rhetoric that muddies the eerie water of transcendent existence.

Because neither side of the mainstream arguments (again, in my opinion) have yet to articulate anything resembling a classical notion of God.

There is a need, here, to remove the religious specification of various traditions. Arguing for a particular character of God is one thing — in which many conversations should proportionally continue — but examining the potential reality of the idea of transcendence is not particular to any one religious tradition. Hence, the classical metaphysics (or, “beyond the natural”) of a divine being find univocity from the majority of religious traditions through history, both Eastern and Western. To avoid length and because such sources are widely available if one is willing to look (which, as it appears, most are not) I will simply reference a work that has already explored this terrain: David Bentley Hart’s “The Experience of God.” For brevity, just reading the introduction will suffice. For concision, I’ll offer a rendering of a helpful way to distinguish a proper articulation of transcendence:

“…the one infinite source of all that is: eternal, omniscient, omnipotent, omnipresent, uncreated, uncaused, perfectly transcendent of all things and for that very reason absolutely immanent to all things. God so understood is not something posed over against the universe, in addition to it, nor is he the universe itself.”[1]

I’m sure, at this point, many comments can be made refuting the above claims or, in contrast, adding further material to further articulate the notion of transcendence. I’ll reiterate: If you are someone, whether theist or not, who has done diligent exploration of the topic at hand, I’m with you. Further, this is one sentence in a mesmerizing articulation of Hart’s work. And Hart is but one thinker who has undertaken the task of metaphysics in an astute way. Much more — from both the theistic and atheistic side — could certainly be added. But I’d like to move on to the primary issue at hand because there is a larger problem here than offering a coherent understanding of transcendence for us to further debate.

If we can, at least, have a common agreement on how the idea of God should be discussed then we can address the baffling cultural discourses that are, to be as polite as possible, boring, obscure, derelict, and rife with ulterior motives.

Because the idea of God may not be where the flaws lie.

The flaws may, quite palpably, lie with us.

Part Three — Introducing the Maze-Prison

Here is where I find myself — inhabiting a cultural world in which two sides (atheism and theism, science and religion) are diametrically opposed and, in the mainstream forms of their propositions, not fitting in with either side. The atheists balk at my religious background and metaphysical agreement and the theists, specifically Christians, call me a heretic (which would be true if Christianity was only defined by the popular version which is only 111 years old and is quite singular in its American cohesion).

Often, then, I will be asked to refute or prop up someone’s particular angst regarding an overture from what they see as their nemesis (again, from both theist and atheist alike). In my particular context — as in, where I live and work — a consistent episode occurs where someone reads a piece of material, usually from the science or atheist bend, and hopes I will calm their anxiety by confirming what they believe. Such frequency may explain why I find the whole thing boring. Such lack of diligence explains why I believe we have gotten the conversation wrong. To be honest, this essay is in hopes that I may not have to endure the devious exchanges again and again.

However, I found myself confronted with the old adage in response to a recent article that was brought to my attention in the hopes that I would offer certainty to some specific claims made or, more specifically, a singular flaw addressed by Ella Anderson’s “The Idea of God Has One Major Flaw.”

The first glimpse of the title left me with an immediate sigh of discontent as it felt like the same old debate waiting to consume an unnecessary amount of my time. To my relief, this was not true. I deeply resonated with and appreciated the author’s beautiful process — an intention the author states is the marriage of poetry and science. There was a keen embrace of the tension in the philosophical quandary and, by brief exploration, I was able to witness a diligent scientist.

My only response to the article was, simply put, that it wasn’t wrong.

However, there was something askew in my appreciated agreement and, as many of the comments on the article seemed to catch, it was because the legitimacy of the argument seemed to be detached from the argument itself. I’m probably committing the unforgivable act of pretentiousness here, but I’m not sure the author made a case for a flaw of God. Instead, we were given the gift of the larger cultural problem that pollutes the air of metaphysical discourse — that both religion and science, pop-theists and pop-atheists, succumb to a blundering psychological misnomer which only continues to placate our erroneous approach to the conversation about God.

If we can overcome such an eschewing obstacle, we might be, finally, able to have a discussion about metaphysical and cosmological transcendence within the sentient epistemological grasping toward ontological reality.

To put it bluntly, the author’s confrontation was not about God and had little to say in the way of philosophical metaphysics, especially in respect to the classical formulations that have been poured over since the pre-Socratics had their thoughts enshrined in literary history.

Where the author demonstrated wondrous clarification was in the critique of religion.

Particularly, an illustrative metaphor of a maze captured well the tendency of religious adherents — that one, with confirmed beliefs, is like a person wandering through a glorious maze but with the unfortunate side effect that they are now closed off in the labyrinth of a closed mind. Psychologically, this is about as close to a behavioralist absolute as you can get. The regularity with which humans yearn for predictability and stability, the comfort of the echo chambers which result from confirmation bias, and the finite certainty humans tend toward when they develop a perspective that singularly resides in their consciousness as the correct way because it is, of course, the way they see things, is keenly observed in this illustration.

My only clarification on this analysis is that the tendency, while clearly visible within religious circles, is very much a human one and is not partitioned to solely being a descriptor of religiosity. In fact, religion simply appears to be an easy access to this very human disposition. The appropriate remark, then, is that what is being described can be true of any ideological and cultural inheritance. The construct of the maze is not isolated to religious tradition, but is a potential side effect of anyone traversing through life.

More importantly, however, is that the maze’s entrances and exits are not automatically closed upon entering. They close only if one chooses to do so.

Part Four — Intellectual Value Systems & the Philosophy of Desire

Whether theist or atheist, religious or scientist, the magnetism of any particular intellectual value system poses the opportunity to statically, even ignorantly, maintain a fixed certainty which makes a wonderful maze of human existence become a mental prison of belief.

Religion, political affiliation, lifestyle ideologies — they all offer the same dangerous disposition where a conclusion about the nature of reality is prematurely confirmed and isolated as an opinionated absolute like the deus ex machina of ancient Greek plays. Our affirmed perspective becomes the only perspective, we cease the search of exploring the world, and we lock the doors while basking in the reverberating sound waves of our confirmed chambers. Like those sudden endings in the old plays, it is a lazy way to resolve the tension of our finite experience within the duration of our lifespans.

The complexity of perspective within the human condition and our adamance of gripping the cold steel of our mental rifles deserve more analysis. Some reprieve may be obtained here:

Let’s Talk About Your Perspective
What is a ‘perspective’? And how can you change it?

But another focus is of equal importance. The philosophy of desire is the antagonist resulting in such mental prisons. We crave certainty, comfort, and assurance in an ambiguous, difficult world. Whether science, religion, or anything in between, these mazes-turned-prisons perform a psychological, biological, and sociological role that showcases the beholden ailments of the human condition and the methodologies we utilize to enhance our survival.

The experience of a self-isolated construct accomplishes an individualized goal of what our brains and consciousness seem hardwired to desire. As the author states, these mazes seem rigged. I could not agree more. But it is not because of religion and it only involves religion to the extent that a sentient being has statically congealed to the comfort of their immediate surroundings; whether chosen or inherited. Any intellectual value system can offer such deranged security. Yet, and I believe religion would be one angle well suited to such a possibility, the maze can offer the opposite if one treads with care and attentiveness.

Unfortunately, when dealing with someone’s particular perspective, you cannot disprove the antecedent to their understanding. Evidence falters as an unbiased attempt to exchange a biased outlook when one has already submitted themselves to their own evidence — no matter how shaky. This is certainly true of religious folks, but we must be generous with our critique that anyone with any ideological blossoming is rife with an encultured disposition by which they unceasingly persevere. Closed minds may result in any venture of the human journey and there is not much difference between the variety of constructs in which we place our existential hope — atheism, materialism, naturalism, science, cults, particular family or ethnic cultures and traditions, economics, progress, technology, individualization, progressive social values, presidential candidates, or any means by which we achieve our desires, religion included. Though these various categories emphasize a variety of angles on classical knowledge — metaphysic, physics, or ethics — the outcome is the same despite the divergent claims if the intellect value system has immaturely concluded in the philosophy of desire that we intrinsically crave. Religions, thus, have a tendency symptomatic of religious experience, but it is a human quality. Alas, many means of existence have the same religiosity. There is an anthem of belief and faith powerfully emaciating the human journey (and yes, I think a claim can be made that depending on physics — mechanical, empirical, and scientific observation of the natural world — requires certain epistemological assumptions in order to augment ontological logic).

Obviously, I am critical of this approach. I, like any other human being, am also guilty of such tendencies. Eliminating the issue doesn’t seem practical. Mitigating its power is our best attempt. But I also think there is a certain solace and reprieve that this characteristic of human finitude offers. Under certain mental and emotional realities, while not an ideal, holding tight to metaphysical assumptions and closed-minded behaviors may be a form of self-protection. I, like anyone willing to offer this critique, should be slow to pull the trigger of admonishment.

However, so far, we have yet to discuss anything dealing with actual metaphysics.

And, so far, it seems to be the case that the flaw in question has very little to do with a transcendent reality called God.

Part Five — The Phenomenological Issue of Religion & Science

In the sphere of religions, especially Christianity, the atheistic or scientific mind has been offered the higher ground by which to charge the calvary to theism’s apparent defeat. Railing against misplaced metaphysics and poor theological guises that are more akin to cultural tropes than orthodox positions or classical philosophy is certainly viable, but it doesn’t make the counter-argument an absolute truth.

When someone proclaims that we don’t need science because God created it, I wholeheartedly support the challenges offered by the scientific community. This is an unhealthy interaction with any ideological perspective; which is also, as it happens, an unhealthy form of theism. But the pushback is against a religious adherent, not of the actual claim of any such religion and not of any metaphysical reality. To say that because certain adherents own a particular outlook called fideism then, ergo, religion is the problem and God does not exist appears to be a false dichotomy and misconstrued logic which we can assign to a category error. Please, by all means, critique the deranged adherence people tend to naturally defend when they imbue their identity on misplaced desire, but let’s not make epistemological leaps to then defy reasonable explorations of philosophy. Living in your small world and tightly gripping your perspective with incoherence is a pitiable endeavor. It does not, however, have much to do with God.

As was stated, the problem, for the author, is that religion is not falsifiable and, therefore, loses credibility. Yet, it is not the religion that has assumed being unfalsifiable. Just as we should not conflate a poor scientific study with the bane of all scientific endeavors, we should emphasize that someone proposing a religious perspective as unfalsifiable might have their relationship with religion a bit misaligned. What is happening with this critique is a case in the point we have already made — entrenched perspectives are confirmed and relegated unreasonably and superstitiously. When one falsely attributes a cause and effect (i.e., superstition), attempting to circumvent their irrationality is like trying to stop gravity.

But again, we are not yet talking about theism. We are talking about a phenomenological issue of certainty’s impossibility being ignored for the security of intellectual affirmation which makes a maze-like landscape of human experience into a prison. The philosophy of desire is more to blame than God or religion; that an abstract concept (of whichever intellectual value system is being adhered to and appears to surpass our singular, finite experience) might offer us what our empirical observation cannot. Unfortunately, the same critique can (and has been) offered against science, politics, or any other venture of ideological souls. In fact, the most esteemed scientists seem to be the ones proposing that science must be approached with the same finite humility which plagues every human being.

Yet, if the science-based perspective does wish to hold on to this critique as a means for disapproval, the logical leaps look promising. The confusion of God being discussed as both benevolent and mysterious is one example. Though on the surface, this appears like a great win for the non-theist or one with religious disdain, a more scientific approach — you know, checking sources, doing research, reviewing literature — would show that this is a much-discussed concept with no singular or absolute view. Delving into the theories of revelation (how ontology becomes epistemologically available) or concepts of theodicy reveals a breadth of stunningly complex arguments that take on this benevolent/mysterious issue. Taking some time to read Gregory of Nyssa or Thomas Aquinas or Avicenna or Spinoza or Descartes or even the likes of Plato, Viktor Frankl, or Elie Wiesel invite a much different outlook than simply spurning the claim and deeming it false. There are reasonable and beautiful articulations that await if one decides to look past the self-bolted maze of ideological adherence.

Part Six — Avoiding Category Errors: Metaphysics, Physics, & Ethics

But now we are arriving at our real problem — metaphysics is, in philosophical terms, a science that can be falsified (as I hope to have demonstrated so far). However, philosophically speaking, metaphysics is a different category than physics (which, in modern language, is more apt to be referred to as “science”). People making this categorical error, on both sides of the “God” issue, is frustrating as hell. Pop-Christianity and pop-atheism are the results — one holding tightly to an immature form of metaphysics, one holding tightly to an immature form of physics, and both failing to recognize that metaphysics, physics, and ethics are separate endeavors that ought to conjunctively collaborate with one another.

Proper theology understands this categorical differentiation and is why the tension of religion and science was never really a tension until religious fanaticism in Europe exploded against the Enlightenment’s apparent secularism and the papal loss of authority in Western culture. This is also why many of the most influential scientists throughout history were either metaphysically supportive or catalyzed by metaphysical propositions.

Metaphysics deals with that which is beyond the natural, physical, and mechanical world (things like consciousness, being, etc), and physics deals with the natural world. These two sciences are meant to cooperate and both have their limitations. The overarching posture of classical philosophy was that ethics stands as the primary goal (how one lives). To best configure the ethical life, one must understand the physical world (science, empiricism, psychology, history, etc). However, to inform what we do with empirical observation so as to live ethically, philosophers from antiquity to the enlightenment relied on logic and metaphysics to consider how everything from cosmology, ontology, epistemology, and teleology informed how we understand, interact with, and exist in the physical world.

Where this begins to get more interesting can be demarcated with a quote utilized by Carlo Rovelli in which the scientist warns that fanciful thinking will take us back to the Middle Ages, whatever that is. I’ll just assume that the scientific specialization has kept Carlo from having a nuanced appreciation for history. I refuse to excuse the lack of philosophical appreciation; because this time period being referenced — though possibly a decent descriptor for one experience within the European project — happens to have instilled the foundation by which modern empiricism and scientific processes have their roots (and not just in Europe, either; the Arabian culture certainly would not express their golden age as a “middle” and this time period with this social group happens to be where the largest catalyzation of educated history spawns from). Where I agree with Carlo is in the primary issue of “trusting our fancies.” We have, again, the philosophy of desire.

Yet, beyond the slip of nomenclature that allows this critique to then somehow disprove the metaphysical notion of transcendence (since he is issuing a social-psychological critique, not a metaphysical one) is an uncertain move made when the disdain for “trusting in our fancies” is discussed as a problem because of its moral implications. The author remarks how someone’s religious affiliations are acceptable as long as they culminate in particular moral behaviors (i.e., ethics). Though, according to the author, a person may be irrationally and superstitiously wrong, at least they are “gentle and kind”.

But how do we know which morals, such as gentle and kind, are healthy? Which morals are right? Are morals falsifiable? If so, how? Does science prove certain moral truths?

As soon as one claims that there are at least some moral principles that are true or good, they are no longer saying that truth needs to be proven through science — for these cannot be. If within mechanical naturalism one ventures into a concept of humanism that opts for certain morals, we are now discussing claims that lie outside of the project of science. If only things observable can be deemed true (or, rather, proven false), we now have to deal with strange components such as consciousness, love, evil, and beauty. The famous (or infamous, depending on your disposition) British empiricists thought truth can only be found in what we observe. However, though not in the “Middle Ages”, both the British empiricists and continental rationalists appear to concede that science, while having a very tactile role to play, only goes so far. The word “mystery” — which has such a negative connotation in the scientific community — must be considered.

If mystery is just the things we don’t yet know then, yes, get rid of it. However, mystery might have a role to play if we are considering something to have moral value because mystery deals with the realities of conscious experience that are beyond qualification to sentient beings. Being in love, witnessing the purposive actions of nature when a tree’s leaves rot into mold, and suffering are certainly experiences we can partially explain with scientific data — the firing of certain neurotransmitters, the decomposition of biological material, and the psychological trauma of a survivor of pain — but what offers a metaphysical-style mystery a reality is that none of these things can be fully explained and understood with only their physical properties (the rotting of leaves is very scientific, yet the teleological purposiveness remains elusive). You see, mystery is often discussed as a lack of knowledge — the internet is mysterious because we use it but many of us cannot explain how it works. The problem is that, with enough time and knowledge, we could explain things such as the internet. However, are there things that transcend physical description? Have we just not yet found the body part which holds consciousness or does consciousness eclipse our epistemological finitude and empirical limits? If you dissected my body, where would we locate and physically explain why I would die for my children? Is it just because of the genetic circumstance that I, as a creature, wish to see my genetic line continue? Or is there something more? And if there is something more, we now understand why mystery might not deserve its negative connotation; because mystery is simply that which is intrinsically beyond the natural and physical — beyond the physical observation of empirical science within epistemological finitude and its accompanying assumptions.

This does not mean that mystery cannot be understood; it simply means that we must use different means to pursue its reality. And we must be willing to accept that some things, no matter how innate or essential to our existence, might be larger than us. Some things, you could say, might transcend us. Quite frankly, knowing what I do about my limited, failure-ridden self, I’m actually grateful that I and my species might not be the epitome and climax of existential reality.

This brings me back to the issue of something being both mysterious and benevolent. Of course, even if transcendence is a metaphysical reality, the nature of that transcendence still lies in conjecture. If there is a God, much work must be done to determine God’s character. Unfortunately, physics would not suffice in such a quest. Yet, if God is good, using this understanding of mystery, God being both benevolent and mysterious would not be a contradiction; it would be a metaphysical composition in relation to human beings. I wouldn’t mind if we recovered a little of the profound intellect of the “Middle Ages”; for at least they understood the difference between conjecturing upon logical reason and the constraints of physical, empirical science. I guess we simply must stand in awe of the faith of the scientific community because making metaphysical claims by only using empiricism is a feat that the wisest scholastic traditions through most of human history have been recalcitrant to do. Either Nietzsche’s superman has surfaced in our incredibly progressed modern science (which, by the way, every age thought their science was the highest reach of human capability) or we are, in rebelling against the dysfunctional forms of religion (which deserves to be rebelled against) asking science to do what science is not capable of doing.

Part Seven — Metaphysical Observations for a Boring Conversation

Once we enter the metaphysical sphere, grievances with certain religious strains and misnomers are poignantly accepted.

For example, determinism is a failure of the imagination. Even Heraclitus knew that almost 3,000 years ago. Overtly emphatic elevations of sovereignty lead us to a conclusion that the world simply is what is; which means it is, of course, meaningless. While this grievance is not just beholden to religious circles, it is a relatively new idea in Christianity. Calvinism is mostly to blame. Attempting to dethrone singular religious polities and fight against what he perceived as the negative social effects of free-will while using exegetical methods that might just make 3,000 years of theologians vomit in their mouth, determinism became a convenient trope for dismissing anything that didn’t happen to align with your desires. I’m all for criticizing and deploring theological articulations such as this, but I’d also ask the critic to explore enough of the larger landscape to see that most Christians throughout history have found Calvinism largely irrelevant.

A quick rant on the epistemological adventure in deducing ontology — otherwise known as revelation — will suffice.

I understand the complaint offered by the author, but I grow weary with the simplistic notion that, from a Christian perspective, whatever we don’t know is because God doesn’t want us to know it and that, from an atheistic perspective, this is a religious justification for ignorance. Nowhere in this religion versus science squalor do we hear from the very accessible concept of revelation and the difference between specific revelation and general revelation.

Obviously, religious folks emphasize specific revelation — that a metaphysically transcendent being reveals truth through specific communication. But, to use a philosopher from the supposedly abhorrent “Middle Ages”, the idea of general revelation — that we can understand truth by paying attention to the world around us — was a hallmark of theology (which also is why Christians were very attuned with pursuing things like science and philosophy). But this is not just a religious question. I would like to think that the scientific community is also concerned with epistemology — how can we know what is true? — and thus bases research endeavors on certain assumptions about knowledge and knowing. Therefore, anyone, religious or not, who claims determined revelation is chalking up epistemology to predetermined impossibility that is more an act of finite convenience and laziness than a principle of religion. Critiquing these folks is not a critique of religion nor a plausible dispensation with the notion of metaphysical transcendence. Also, very quickly, as someone who has had to work with more tragic situations than I can currently count and who often works with the general concept of theodicy and suffering, I do not condone any approach to trauma that asserts the sufferer to be strong or explains that “everything happens for a reason” and I do so on theological grounds as well as psychological. Whatever that response is, it is not Christian (in, of course, my opinion).

I happen to believe (yes, believe, because this is a metaphysical claim using the faculties of reason and logic, not empiricism) that God’s intention, character, and existence are mysteriously transcendent (ontologically different than sentient finitude), but is not unknown. Therefore, metaphysical sciences through epistemological experiences are capable of offering rational conclusions to that which is beyond our sentient sensibilities and scientific observations.

Part Eight — Theology & Doubting Thomas: A Reprise

Which brings me to a final frustration in this boring conversation:

Religion, in general, and Christianity, in particular, are not intended to be self-assuring.

The notable description of theology that you will find in almost any theological education is from Anselm, “Faith seeking understanding.”

Faith — not the belligerent, irrational, incoherent justifications for ignorance — is a metaphysical disposition toward mystery (as described above). Seeking understanding implies a particular bend toward incompleteness and process. Anyone who closes the doors on the maze of life, then, is not doing theology. Anyone disavowing those approaches amongst religious folks is, therefore, being theologically faithful to the Christian tradition while also offering a necessary cultural critique of a society where we seem to be okay with the philosophy of desire’s propensity to make us ignorantly certain within our finite constructs.

I do think that the intellectual movement and, specifically, the scientific world, is equally guilty of this, but in defending why self-assurance concerning theological and metaphysical concepts is not a descriptor of Christianity, we have much to reference.

Practical concepts like “holy conferencing” requires a religious adherent to constantly ask questions in regard to one’s beliefs and explore the outcomes with others as a sort of peer-review. The idea of “living tradition” implies a continual development. Or John Wesley’s remarks on transcendence that, “As soon as you say the word ‘God’ you are no longer talking about ‘God’,” simply give the impression that a static set of beliefs is in contrast to the very notion of believing. Self-assurance, therefore, is usually a sign that one is no longer participating in theological and ethical work. Again, it makes sense that philosophical rigor and an embrace of the scientific method were hallmarks of the Christian tradition. And, also again, I hope we can at least begin to agree that the disagreement of religion in this way is not actually about religion and not at all about metaphysics. The disagreement is of certain poorly formed metaphysical stances and religious constructs that are indicative of our sociological landscape more than anything else.

I cannot refrain from welcoming the inclusion of “Doubting Thomas” into this discussion (as was originally done by the author of the article being discussed) because Thomas is a hero of the Christian tradition. From Abraham in Genesis to the book called Lamentations, doubt is never really portrayed as an antagonism to faith. I do not know why this has become such an emphasis in the modern, American church. When Christians posit such fear of doubt, I often wonder if they’ve read the Bible. In order to seek understanding, one must include a certain respect of intellectual doubt. Not as an ideal, either. Doubt is part of the process of knowing. But beyond the philosophical necessity, doubt is, both in the Biblical narrative and throughout Christian history, often lauded as a proper response of human beings in the face of a difficult world and in the approach of uncertainty.

Doubting Thomas is no doubt the illustrious poster-child of such heroism, but only if you actually read the story. Never once are his actions condemned and, more importantly, Thomas is the only person in the Gospel of John to proclaim the lofty title of “My Lord and my God” on Jesus. Whether you agree with Thomas’s verdict or not, within Christianity, that is a positive portrayal of the character; of one who seeks understanding. I can only speak for Christianity here but, apparently, questions take you where answers can’t. Doubt is the vehicle of understanding.

Epilogue — The Hopes for a New Conversation

I apologize for my verbosity on the subject. I’m certain that I could have said all of this more concisely but, again, at least these thoughts are in a single place so I don’t have to replay this conversation again and again. My real hope, however, is that this conversation can finally end and, when it comes to religion and science, we can begin to acknowledge that we might have missed the plot.

In fact, we may one day realize that our contemporary culture may have gotten Christianity and metaphysics wrong.

And if we can begin to properly approach these different categories, we may, one day, begin to see that Christianity and metaphysics have much to contribute to the scientific processes that are, after all, constrained with their own limitations. Further, we may be able to properly use both aims to accomplish the holistic goal of metaphysics and physics — ethics.

To get there and, hopefully, trade this current diatribe for such a constructive exploration, we must consider a few approaches:

First, be careful of not making the distinction between Biblical and theological instruction versus the behavior of those who claim to be Christians. The religious qualities of those incongruously taking on the identity deserve critique, but it should not dictate the esteem of the tradition itself — especially if religious adherents are your only data for making such indictments. Actually knowing what the Bible and the Christian tradition say would make a good starting point. I believe this is called a “review of literature”. Throwing out metaphysics because of inept versions of metaphysical traditions is no better than propping up those inept metaphysical traditions.

Second, be careful with the nuance that the idea of God is, often, not the issue in this discussion. I would love for our culture to have actual metaphysical discussions on transcendence (or the lack thereof), but that is rarely what happens. In contrast, we can at least be honest that the issue here is not of “God” nor of religion — this is a cultural problem that is just as evident in politics, secularism, humanism, and, let’s be honest, science. In fact, the dissent of the referenced article seems to be an act of committing the very error the author was criticizing. If we only harbor those critiques and make the categorical errors by branding such problems on a specific construct (i.e., religion), a religious person could throw the same critique back — that ignorant science blindly meanders it's own locked up maze and is, therefore, flawed.

Instead, I hope we opt to do the following:

· Refuse to choose to believe the convenient,

· Address the difficult epistemological finitude of uncomfortable contingent experience, and

· Consider that the reality of consciousness that makes such an adventure possible is yet an invitation that both evangelical, fundamental Christians and materialist non-believers (who are still adhering to a tremendous amount of faith in their elevation of science) must choose to pursue.

If we don’t, we will continue wandering in our self-determined prisons, wielding our limited perspectives as argumentative swords instead of helpful distinctions between two ontologically different categories (metaphysics and physics), and — through unreasonable religion or dishonest science — continue to walk our preferred labyrinths of self-assured and self-contained closure.

Third and finally, then, as human beings approaching metaphysical questions, we must shift the conversation to what the actual flaw is before we can enjoy the endeavors of metaphysical discussion.

Because the flaw may not lie with God.

The idea of God is still an ongoing exploration which, as its central premise, makes the flaw of self-assuring, rigged, and disingenuous systems of thought and perspectives — which are seen as non-falsifiable according to the opinionated, static convenience that such a construct allows for an adherent — utterly and uselessly boring.

The flaw, therefore, appears to lie with us.

And until we can open the doors of our mazes — whether in religion or science — we will not even be able to begin talking about God.

Or, maybe that is just the philosophy of my own desire propped up by my intellectual value system talking; in which case, ignore everything you just read.

[1] Hart, David Bentley. The Experience of God (p. 30). Yale University Press. Kindle Edition.