More On the Godless Universe

The following is a response to a friend of mine who asked me to elaborate on my statements concerning a Christian universe being a better prospect than a Godless one. I hesitated in posting it here, but at the end of the day I think there are things here that should be put in the public forum.

“How would respond to an atheist who believes their life to have more of a point after they gave up belief? Or would you even respond?”

Well, on the one hand my response would be tempered by my relationship with the person in question. There are people I can speak openly with and there are those with whom I must be gentle because I value their friendship. Not just shutting up to get along but some worldviews are so alien from one another that they have to treat each other carefully. Were I to encounter the argument on paper and set about to write a response, my response would go something like this:

                If we were capable of imagining that we had no preconceived notions of Christ, humanity, the world, etc. and were given a choice between a universe where we could live a finite life in as much pleasure as we wish or a universe in which we had the opportunity for eternal life bathed in truth and love and some discomfort, I’d imagine most people would choose the latter. The new atheist has made a similar comparison and concluded otherwise. I believe the reason for this is that they have compared the ugliest Christianity to the sun shiniest Atheism. You’ll note sometimes that an atheist will make a case for a specific Christianity before knocking it down (straw man). I had a friend once that was a Calvinist street preacher before becoming an atheist. When I expressed an interest in pursuing God in the most original context possible (Orthodoxy) before rejecting Him completely, my friend made it his mission to convince me that Calvin’s Christianity is the only possibly true Christianity. Think about that for a minute.

                The atheistic universe is one in which the Universe started one day and will eventually entropy into non-existence. In the intervening time it develops some interesting things, like humanity, that could be appreciated for a while by things like humanity and when either disappears there is no longer anything to appreciate or anything to appreciate it. It’s like the poem Ozymandias, except there won’t even be anyone to appreciate the irony. It might as well have not existed. I am reminded of a description of that time in a Doctor Who episode where “the furnaces were burning and humanity screaming into the night”. Damn God for not existing.

                The Christian universe is one in which the Universe was started and will eventually be sanctified in a final state of perfection. We were created to crown it and we are co-working with the Creator to sanctify it. Even at the end of Time we will continue infinitely into the ever deepening wisdom and love of an infinite God. In Orthodoxy, we even have the hope that all will eventually be saved, even if it is an EXTREMELY cautious hope.

                This is nowhere near an argument for the existence of God. It could just be that bad. It is only a demonstration of how one model is preferable to the other. The new atheist feels that we are free to work out our morality divorced from that of our primitive ancestors. The problem is that a morality based in the fickle and ever changing landscape of popular culture is a morality that is fickle and ever changing. Right now, those who experience same sex attraction are experiencing a certain level of social benefit but I would wager money that the tides of ideologies will change and they will suffer terribly. Remember how the serpent promised us we would be gods and brought us lower than we began. There is something to be said for having your stake (cross?) anchored in something eternal.

                There is only one good reason to believe that an atheistic universe is better than a Christian one and that is that in an atheistic universe there is no answering for anything. Choice and Freedom are maximized. They also mean nothing. 

Of Christ and the Guardians

Jesus is the same as Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. Except that He isn’t. To say that Christ is the same as Santa is to say that He is the same type of thing as Santa. What type of thing is the Easter Bunny? The Easter Bunny and company are myths and stories that fulfill, at least in the expression of their popular portrayals, specific sociological and psychological niches within the context of the culture in which they are found. Presumably, one could explain “why” the bunny and “why” the jolly fat man. It is outside of the scope of this article but the movie, Rise of the Guardians, comes to mind as an excellent example of this. The characters serve as representatives and defenders of certain things (hope, wonder, etc.).

If one makes the claim that Christ is no more than a myth, one must explain the myth. If Christianity is a made up religion, we must be able to explain the context of the fiction. Under what circumstance was it necessary to create Christ? I would posit(from my own experience in the faith) that if Christianity was invented, it was invented behind a brothel as a man lay in his own vomit and other men passed him by paying no heed. It was founded when every desire was met, every thirst quenched, and every hunger was sated. The moment it was birthed into the world was the precise moment the inventor looked inside and saw a twisted soul and was filled with nothing but self-loathing. If Christianity was not revealed to us by the God-Man, it was hatched in the mind of the most wretched of humanity come face to face with itself. In our lowest state, we conceived it’s opposite.

I’ve heard many theories from the modern atheist concerning the mysterious origins of my faith. Some are as simplistic as asserting that we are afraid of death and others are as absurd as asserting that it was invented to control the populace. The first fails in its scope and the second contradicts any serious study of the faith. But neither of these is as surprising as the assertion by New Atheism that a godless universe is an inherently good thing. Now, free from our archaic superstitions, we can finally reach our full potential. One of the several arguments that come to mind against this is that a godless universe is a universe that is inherently meaningless.

Vast ages of human beings have lived their lives with no meaning. That’s not just numbers. Billions upon billions of individual souls have looked upon the stars, looked upon their hands and could not contemplate that neither had any inherent value or meaning. Each of them had blessings in their lives and knew instinctively that SOMETHING had to be thanked for it. Each of them knew hardship, despair and suffering and cast their eyes to the sky in agony. In a godless universe, they were all mere chemical reactions. No amount of posturing and appeals to emotion can soften that. In fact, there is nothing to soften. It is not that one day we will die and be nothing. It’s that we already are nothing. Or, in a logical formula:

1.       Value is an assigned attribute

2.       Assigned attributes cease when there is no longer anyone to maintain them

3.       Value ceases when there is no longer anyone to maintain it

All of this is to illustrate the difference between Christ and the Guardians. The most striking difference is that Hope exists outside of the Easter Bunny and Wonder exists outside of Father Christmas. They are merely avatars of an already existing reality. Christ, if He is an avatar at all, must be an avatar of that which cannot be without Him; Eternal Life, intrinsic purpose and value, redemption, etc. Christianity has Christ Crucified at the center of the Universe because that is the only place He can logically exist.

Mediocrity

It’s been a long time. I have drifted into mediocrity. My prayer rule and my fasting are nothing to be proud of and my church attendance suffers similarly. I am, thank God, somewhat keeping my confessions up. I am a failure.

When I was growing up, I actually believed that I would change the world. I not only believed that I had the potential to save the world, I thought I would actually do it. In some sense, it was even my duty. I’m sure there is some unflattering word to describe that state of mind, but I would certainly not say it came from a place of arrogance or pride. I think it was naiveté. When the world is simple, the solutions are simple. World peace? No problem. Hunger? I got this. Disease? Please. Maybe I was just an overly optimistic child, or a by-product of my generation, coming to know the world after the fall of the Berlin Wall and the end of the Cold War.

Where am I now? Well it should be obvious to the casual observer that I have not saved the world. As it turns out, I am one of billions of teaming masses of human beings that have ever existed and will never enter a history book. I work a job I enjoy, but in the grand scheme of things it has little effect beyond feeding my family (and thank God it does that). I am the faceless nobody you will pass in the grocery store and never have a second thought about. I will never be a doctor, a teacher, the President, a diplomat, a priest, an adventurer, an astronaut, or time traveler. I will likely never save a life. I will likely never even marginally affect that of a stranger. I am average.

At one time, as an evangelical, I even felt a “calling” to preach. I now lump this period of my life into the same category as my desire to go into politics. It was dreaming. I like dreams. I daydream quite often. In daydreams I create scenarios in which I can be something I’m not. I can be someone who “matters” or “makes a difference”. I can even be someone chosen by God for a special purpose. But I am not called to anything special anymore than the guy I saw holding the cardboard sign at the intersection. In fact, I am probably far less worthy of being called to some special purpose than he is. Through him, people are earning their crowns. Through me, people are receiving a quality service (mostly). Small miracles, right?

I and others I know struggle with this “calling” thing quite a bit. I think maybe it is because we feel guilty for wanting to be religious leaders. There are perks and stigmas attached to the vocation that immediately illicit suspicion. I do not want to be seen as a person who wants to wear the cassock so I can be respected among men; therefore I assign that guilt to God and remove it from myself. I cannot be accused of being an attention seeker if God has dragged me, kicking and screaming, to the altar table for ordination. It’s not my fault. I didn’t ask to be special. Of course, that has little to do with our real relationship with God and a lot to do with how we wish to be perceived by other people. We are engaging in the action in order to not appear to be engaging in the action. Some of us catch ourselves and reject it all together. We drive against the desire to serve because of the never ending circle of second guessing and guilt. Yet, even now I am writing this with the silly dream that my acceptance of my inevitable mediocrity somehow indicates some virtue that God will use to call me to a higher purpose, even though I have received no such promise.

So, should I ask God to make me content to be no one of significance, or should I ask Him to place opportunities at my feet that I will most assuredly fail at? Just some of the questions I struggle with these days.

Throwing Stones

As Christians, it is our duty to correct and guide one another.

Or is it really that simple? In Christianity in general, Orthodox or not, we love our Scripture. We very closely adhere to Paul's endorsement in 2 Timothy 3:

¹⁶ All Scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness, ¹⁷ that the man of God may be complete, thoroughly equipped for every good work.

As a "People of the Book" and practitioners of a revealed religion, the "Book" is integral to our faith. As history shows, however, it has also been very useful as a weapon. In the slave-holding South, it was used quite effectively in helping to control the slave population. In the infamous "God Hates Fags" campaign of the Westboro Baptist Church, it is used to cast judgement on other groups. One might believe that we simply must place a Bible in the face of offenders every time they turn their heads. However, a few things ought to be examined:


Where does the desire to correct our brother come from?

One of the motivating factors in leading the Christian life is to be healed of our passions. One of our most devious passions (and the foundation of others) is Pride. When we come to our brother to "correct" their opinion, worldview, behavior, etc.; have we removed the beam from our own eye? Are we truly concerned with their spiritual health or do we take joy in policing them?


Am I the best person to correct my brother?

Beyond the implications of the first question, we must also examine whether or not our relationship is the sort where corrections can occur. In most peoples lives, their are very few people, if any, that we can listen to without becoming defensive. Becoming defensive is a roadblock to correction because an integral part of one's defense is a process of self-justification. On can justify nearly anything to oneself (something that is not easily done in Confession.).


True conviction.


In my personal experience, true conviction is a difficult thing to achieve in another person. The adulteress woman of John 8:1-11 knew full well what the Law said. In fact, Adultery is one of the big 10. Yet she did not receive true conviction against her actions through mere knowledge of the Law. One might even presume that she did what so many who are unfaithful do and justified her actions. Those justifications might have even stuck with her right up to meeting our Savior. Something deeper must occur for true, life altering conviction. Some of us even need to suffer. All of us need Grace.

True conviction is something really very beautiful in the life of one who truly wishes to change. There is joy in the revelation that pinpoints the wounds that need healing, even if it is bittersweet due to the fruit of those transgressions. We should try to allow those revelations, even when they come in the form of accusations. But not every brother or sister is ready to receive them and, even more importantly, there are so few of us that are capable of delivering those revelations with love and humility. Perhaps the more powerful and effective force in the lives of our brothers and sisters is prayer.

Confession on the Breath...

I was reading this blog post from Logismoi (It seems that piggy backing is becoming a habit, my apologies). I must admit that I'm not terribly familiar with Papadiamandis, but I find Logismoi's argument to be intriguing in asserting that Papadiamandis is still "saintly" regardless of his bad habits. I think perhaps I can use this to shed some light on my 'angry man'.

I mentioned before that I had a way of focusing the 'angry man' into a display of righteous indignation. Much of this, I believe, is for the benefit of my 'character'. We all love a protagonist with a just cause. The problem is that my motives aren't always so noble. I have said "Thou fool' (Matthew 5:22) in many ways over the years. I have brow-beaten and bullied many an adversary, and made many an enemy in debate.

Just as the alcoholic might hide his addiction under pretense of fun, I hide my anger under pretense of moral authority. The difference is that I could theoretically maintain the "show" for my entire life. Addiction has a way of forcing itself to the surface. The alcoholic will most often have to come to grips at some point with his or her need. Friends and family will likewise become aware. My "normal human behavior" is deadly to me but easily accepted (even applauded) in the world in which we live, alcoholism is not so easily accepted. Therefore, I might concede that the alcoholic has a better 'shot' at Salvation than I do. My 'angry man' leads to the 'prideful man' (another target). The alcoholic leads to the 'broken man' which is much closer to where I should be starting. I had to have my greatest enemy revealed to me in Confession. The fallen alcoholic carries his confession on his breath.

Of course, I am not an alcoholic and I cannot venture much further into what such a struggle might entail. Let it suffice for now to know that my being such a 'normal person' has its dangers. The world in which we operate places value in some of the very things which I must reject about myself. Modern society sees long-suffering as a sign of weakness, when recent experience tells me quite the opposite. It is extremely difficult NOT to defend oneself against the odd 'unfairness' in the world. Beyond, that, it takes nothing short of Grace to actually allow for the idea that we are not entitled to get our way. Am I advocating being the world's doormat? No. My goal in destroying the 'angry man' is to grow beyond knee jerk reactions to the odd inconvenience, to see past my own desires and passions. The 'angry man' makes me hang on when I should be letting go.

All the World's A Stage,

And all the men and women merely players;
-Shakespeare-

Each of us is an actor in his/her own little play, showing the audience (including ourselves) our best sides, making the appropriate dramatic motions, and making ourselves into the protagonist we wish to be known as. We do this although the costume doesn't quite fit right, our legs are getting tired, and the spotlight often shows us the things we don't like to see in ourselves.

In our struggles to live the Christian ideal, it is habitual for us to "change the script", directing the 'character' in a more appropriate moral direction. But the actor is left unchanged and, in a sense, unsaved from the wounds he is hiding under his dress and make up.

Inspired by a recent blog post by Archpriest Stephen Freeman, here, I am reminded of this in my endeavor to conform myself to Christ. Christianity is an internal struggle. One which I have not mastered to the point of being authoritative to any degree enough to make blog posts. I am also reminded of how easy it is to make an analogy of the internal life, but a whole different thing to actually examine it. Such is the power of inspiring words. It often seems that they reveal things about that mysterious subject, people, but the spotlight rarely falls on us. Our 'characters' are not nearly as crude as real human beings. In a video interview between Richard Dawkins and paleontologist Richard Leakey, on the documentary, The Fifth Ape, Leakey pointed out that people who have trouble with the idea that they biologically descended from apes, have far less trouble with the idea that other zoo goers descended from them. I think Leakey stumbled upon a fundamental human truth. In my own language, even within this very blog post, I will attribute human qualities and shortcomings to that still mysterious subject, people, and still more mysterious subject, we. In this regard, my focus ought to be the only creature that I have any faculties over, me, even if it is itself nearly as mysterious. To complicate matters, I should not even focus on me, but rather on the one doing the focusing. I cannot afford to make the mistake of revising my 'character', when the 'actor' is the one who needs the Salvation. My first target, if my lifetime confession shows anything, should be the 'angry man'. This is a part of me that I have most effectively focused into my characters righteous indignation. It is my main source pain.

In light of these thoughts, and advice from my spiritual father, my blog posts are going to be internalized. I stated recently that I have grown tired of polemics. It has dominated most of my writing. Henceforth, my writing will take on the appearance of a diary, instead. I still find it helpful to write my thoughts, as it helps me to organize them.

Polemics, Schmolemics...

As I sit down to write this, I must confess that I have grown weary of Polemics. I have no desire to continue comparing Orthodoxy to Protestantism. On the other hand, I have a little too much desire to defend Orthodoxy against Protestantism. We're all reading mostly the same Bible and coming to different conclusions based on preconceived ideas about the nature and purpose of the Christian life. In Orthodoxy, we call those preconceived ideas 'Tradition'. Everyone has a tradition. Everyone has dogma. So, what makes me feel that Orthodoxy has the correct Tradition? What gives it the weight to remain, in my opinion at least, the proper and authentic understanding of Christianity in the face of so many different ideas?

There is a great deal of diverse opinion in the world. In fact, there are as many worldviews as there are people. Particularly in America, perhaps as a result of our entrepreneurial spirit and value of individuality, we have come to a point where often we, as Christians, accept others on the grounds that they also assume the label of 'Christian'. In such a way, we have created an atmosphere in which it was possible to develop over 23,000 Protestant denominations (by some estimates). If that number is disturbing, you might be in agreement with a rapidly growing number of Christians who describe themselves as 'non-denominational'. 

When one confesses a particular doctrine, we may reasonably infer that they actually believe it and that they believe it to the exclusion of all others. When I say the Nicene Creed, it may be reasonably inferred that my Christianity fits within the context of that confession. What the Baptist, the Methodist, the Pentecostal, etc. are saying when they confess their particular creeds is that they believe what they are stating. No one objects to this. If the Baptist thought that their set of beliefs were wrong, they simply wouldn't be Baptist. But the Baptist that thinks that their set of beliefs is correct is doing so to the exclusion of all others. Often in religious conversation, we hear the words “I don't believe [Doctrine A], because I believe [Doctrine B]”. 

What any denomination is doing in reality is stating that they are the “Ark of Salvation”. They are marking a line in the sand and stating, “On this side you are correct and on that side you are wrong.” The logical conclusion is that they are also stating that no one was correct before they worked out their theology. For the Calvinist, no one had it before Calvin. The same applies for Luther. Even Roman Catholicism, with the advent of Papal Infallibility, is in some sense stating that Roman Catholicism was missing something before the doctrine was introduced. Even the non-denominational, although they may lean toward certain Protestant ideals, also takes the really strong stance that no one denomination has got it completely right. 

Furthermore, we are often faced with an utter lack of humility when working out our personal theological views. We will read, listen, and reason until we work out our own theological collage of doctrines and then search for the denomination that best fits us. Imagine that. We want a Christianity that fits us, rather than wanting to adjust ourselves to Christianity. 

The truth of the matter is that any Christian would likely give a limb to walk about the hills of Galilee with Jesus, or travel the Roman world with Paul, in order to get back to the 1^st century Church. We all want the most authentic faith that is possible. Despite whatever pitfall we happen to have fallen into, we really just want the truth. For most of us, if Jesus appeared as He did with Paul, and pointed at a particular denomination, we would abandon our own immediately. Just as Paul abandoned the Pharisees, we would completely readjust our theology to the religious view that Jesus pointed to.

In lieu of such a holy and miraculous event, I can suggest this defense of Orthodoxy. It and it alone can claim lineage from the Church of the first four centuries. All of Christianity was once a unified body of believers who did not refer to themselves as any denominational name but simply as the One, Holy, Catholic(universal), and Apostolic Church. The West split away and has been splintering since(Matt 7:15-20). With so many new denominational names coming into existence, the Church needed a way to set itself apart and took the name 'Orthodox'. Orthodoxy is pre-denominational.

What is significant about that defense is that it shows precedence. Whereas the Adventist is stating that Christ taught but no one really “got it” until the Adventists, the Orthodox Christian has been stating the same message for 2000 years. In fact, the Adventist isn't stating much of anything that goes past 500 years, except when they quote scripture. But they quote scripture and understand it from the Adventist tradition, which is less than 100 years old in its current form.

This is why someone can voice some protest against Orthodox doctrine and theology and it falls on deaf ears most of the time. Scripture has been studied and discerned. It has been worked through and the meaning understood by men who devoted their entire lives to prayer and communion with God. While our understanding can reach new depths and provide new insights, it cannot be negated and replaced by a different version. To negate Orthodox Theology is to negate the words of Jesus when He said, “the Gates of Hades will not prevail against” His Church (Matt 16:18). To take the position that only the Pentecostals got it right is to say that there was no true Christianity between Nicea and the Holiness Movement of the mid-19^th century. 

Thus, when seeking the most authentic understanding of Christianity, I saw no recourse except to come to Orthodoxy. The Orthodox Church is the Ark of Salvation. That is not to insinuate that those outside of the Church do not have Salvation. It does not mean that many if not most other denominations are not, in some sense, Christians. It does mean that they are in danger of misunderstanding, confusing, minimizing, and dismissing the authentic Christian life that they could have. Depending on the doctrine of their denomination, they could even miss the mark altogether on what it means to “work out your salvation”(Phil 2:12).