|
Concerning
God, Modern Man, and Religion
by Mortimer J. Adler, Ph.D.
Part
One
If theology and religion are living things,
there is nothing intrinsically wrong about efforts
to modernize them. They must be open to change and
growth like everything else. Further, there is no
reason to be surprised when discussions such as
those about the "death of God" -- a concept drawn
from Nietzsche -- stir popular excitement as they
did in the recent past, and could do so again
today. Of all the great ideas, the idea of God has
always been and continues to be the one that evokes
the greatest concern among the widest group of men
and women.
Yet if it is to be expected that efforts to
modernize theology and religion will always cause a
stir, several special aspects of the case in the
1950s and 1960s -- which are still at work among us
-- are worth noting.
To start with a question, have any great
intellectual events been ushered in by the new and
"radical" theologians such as Clarence Hamilton,
Paul Van Buren, Thomas Altizer and Gabriel
Vahanian? Any new truths in theology? None. Any new
insights into the nature of religion? None. Any new
insights into the nature of religion? None. Any new
advances for the reform of religion? None. One
could apply to this sterile spectacle the sense of
Emerson's remark when he looked from afar at the
1848 Revolution in France and wondered aloud if the
results were worth the trees that went into the
barricades.
The authors who gave currency to the notions of
the new "radical theology" supported their
assertions with nothing more substantial than the
kind of proof that would satisfy the bellman in
Lewis Carroll's Hunting of the Snark who
cried: "What I tell you three times is true!" There
was, however, a close accord between the ambiguous
language they used and their purpose. Their purpose
was to transform atheism into a new theology --
"the religionless Christianity," "atheistic
religion," "secularized Christianity" -- to
preserve some of Christianity's religious teaching
while secularizing and combining it with
atheism.
So the question emerges again. What is new about
the new theology? Again the answer is nothing.
Atheism is not new, nor is irreligion, nor is
secularism. These are very old even when they
sounded in the work of the eminent modern
predecessors of the new theologians -- in the work,
for example, of men such as Paul Tillich, Rudolf
Bultmann and Dietrich Bonhoeffer. All, at bottom,
denied the existence of the supernatural. Yet all
persisted in talking about God.
For my part, I respect the honest clear-minded
atheist who denies that God exists and tries to
offer thought out reasons for the denial. I respect
the honest, critically minded agnostic who denies
we can ever know whether God exists or not, and
treats religious belief as a pure act of faith,
incapable of being supported or challenged by
rational analysis or empirical knowledge of the
world. I respect the person who, in his horror of
the superstitions and persecutions that have
attended the practices of religious institutions,
rejects the whole of religion as something from
which man should emancipate himself. But I cannot
respect those who corrupt the integrity of words in
the very act of addressing matters of central
importance in theology and religion. I cannot
respect those who instead of calling atheism by its
right name, contrive a peculiar set of excuses for
atheism (as in the "death of God movement") and
then -- in spite of laws against false labeling --
call the result a new theology.
On Calling Things by
Their Right Name
A namesake, but not a relative of mine, Dr.
Felix Adler, was the founder and head of the
Ethical Culture Society. I knew him slightly. In
the early twenties he was a senior professor of
philosophy at Columbia when I was a junior
instructor there. On Sundays, the day usually
devoted to religious observances and the worship of
God, the members of the Ethical Culture Society
forgathered, but there were no ceremonies or
rituals, no prayers, no services. Instead there
were some very weighty lectures on moral philosophy
and strenuous exhortations to do good. I knew many
members of the Ethical Culture Society. All were
morally exemplary persons who took these
exhortations seriously and indulged in a kind of
ethical athleticism and a frenzy of moral "do
gooding."
A young friend of mine went to the Ethical
Culture High School. After he had been there a
while, I ventured to find out if he understood what
the principles of Ethical Culture stand for?
Without even a slight pause for reflection, he
straight-away answered: "No God, no religion, and
plenty of exercise."
The Nature of this
Essay
In much the same way as a path through a forest
becomes clear when the sun starts to set, the loss
of light that has marked the radical new theology
points up the need for the tasks I have set in the
pages lying ahead.
I must try to explain what is entailed in the
pivotal conception of God -- pivotal because it is
that conception which is denied by the
atheist, affirmed by the theist, believed by the
religious, and thought by the agnostic to be beyond
the grasp of our knowledge. Further, I must note
the old source in Protestantism for some of the
errors that underlie the contemporary movement of
radical theology. I must then come to grips with
what I believe to be the most difficult subject of
all -- the meaning of religion itself.
Directional
Signs
In what I have to say about these matters, I
will speak not as a man of religious faith or as a
dogmatic theologian, but as a philosopher or a
natural theologian. Natural theology is a branch of
philosophy which stands on a plane apart from faith
and dogma. I will not speak as an apologist for
Judaism, Christianity, or Islam, though what I will
have to say philosophically, which bears on an
understanding of God, will accord with the
traditional conception of God in the three great
monotheistic religions of the West. As a
philosophical theologian, I will confine myself to
only three notions that are essential to the
conception of God.
They are that God is transcendent, that God is a
necessary being in contrast to the contingent being
of all other things, and that God is the cause of
the being of everything else that exists. I will
not go beyond theses three notions, nor will I try
to prove that God, so conceived, exists. My
intention is simply to make clear what is affirmed
by those who affirm the existence of God, and what
is denied by those who like the new theologians
deny it.
At one point, I will raise the question (without
trying for an answer) whether the conception of God
shared by the three great traditional religions of
the West is present also in the religions of the
East -- or indeed, whether the very term "religion"
stands for the same thing in the Far East as it
does in the West.
The First of the Three
Basic Notions
As noted, the view that God is transcendent is
the first of the notions in the concept of God. The
meaning of "transcendent" can perhaps be more
dearly seen when it is viewed through the focusing
lens of a conjectural question. If God exists, what
is God like?
The three possible answers are exclusive and
exhausting. They are that:
- God is totally unlike everything else
in nature that we know or are able to know.
- God is totally like everything else
in nature that we know or are able to know.
- God is both like and unlike everything
else in nature that we know or are able to
know.
There is no fourth possible answer. Rather, what
comes into play is the rule in logic which holds
that if answers to a question are confined to three
alternatives, and if two of them are untenable, the
one that remains must be the right one. So we must
now determine which two among the three answers
given a moment ago must be rejected, and which is
the one left that we must accept.
What are the consequences of saying that God is
totally unlike everything else in nature
that we know or are able to know? "God" then
becomes a word devoid of meaning. Why? To convey a
meaning, a concept must have something in common
with other concepts we have in mind when we use
other understandable words in our vocabulary. The
concept of "animal," for example, has something in
common with other understandable words such as
"lion," "bear," "dog," "horse," "cow." But if the
concept of God has nothing in common with anything
else we can intelligibly describe, it is as
senseless to deny the existence of God as to affirm
it. Atheism becomes as meaningless as theism. In
fact, the only question that would then be worth
asking about God is how men ever came to use so
meaningless a word and why they still everywhere
continue to use it, as they do in the new theology
and all current forms of atheism.
What are the consequences of saying that God is
totally like everything else in nature that
we know or are able to know? God would then have to
be conceived as corporeal, finite, sensible,
mutable, contingent, along with all the other
attributes that we ascribe to the natural things we
know. But if those attributes are ascribed to God,
are they knowable in the same way as other things
we know? Can God, for example, be investigated in
the manner of the natural sciences where a
hypothesis in physics, chemistry, and biology can
derive its validity from the outcome of controlled
tests and experiments? It is enough merely to ask
the question to see that God cannot be known in the
same way we know the attributes of other things. So
we must rule out as false the proposition that God
is totally like everything else in nature.
If the first two answers are not tenable, then
we are left with the third one -- that God is
both like and unlike everything else in
nature that we know or are able to know. It is like
everything else in that it must be thought of as a
being. I am not here asserting God exists. I
am only saying that God must be conceived as a
being about which we can meaningfully ask
whether or not it exists, just as we must conceive
of a mermaid or Hamlet as a being about which we
can ask that existential question.
While God, conceived as a being, is thus like
all the other things about which we ask whether or
not they exist, God is unlike everything
else with respect to this mode of being. We
conceive of everything else in nature as
material or corporeal beings, as
mutable beings, as sensible beings,
as finite beings. All the italicized words
refer to their mode of being. But if God were like
everything else in mode of being, God would be
totally like everything else, a proposition we have
already rejected.
What is meant by the "analogy of being" is
central to an understanding of the concept of God
as a being who is at one and the same time like and
unlike everything else in nature. Two things are
analogous if, in any given respect, they are at
once the same and diverse.
Take, for example, the analogous meaning of the
word "sharp." When we say a "sharp" sound, a
"sharp" point, a "sharp" taste, all three things
are "sharp," but they are diversely so.
Furthermore, you cannot say what it means to be
sharp apart from your understanding of what it is
to be a sharp sound, a sharp point, a sharp taste.
You cannot abstract the meaning of "sharp" from the
diverse sensory qualities of taste, sound, and
touch. In the same way, you cannot understand what
being is, apart from your understanding of mutable
and immutable being, material and immaterial being,
finite and infinite being. These are analogous in
being, just as a sharp taste, a sharp sound, and a
sharp point are all analogously sharp.
The failure to understand the analogy of being
has been the pivotal inadequacy of Protestant
theology from Luther's time to the present. The
Protestant Reformation itself, I must quickly add,
was very good on the side of the reforms of
ecclesiastical abuses and the removal of the
superstitions that are always parasitic
encrustations on religion. Much that is good in the
modern ecumenical movement also draws some of its
spirit from the Protestant Reformation. The bad
side of the Protestant Reformation, beginning with
Luther, was its violent anti-intellectualism. This
lost to the modern world the great achievements in
theology that accumulated from the fourth to the
fourteenth century.
A striking example of the failure of modern
Protestant theology is the book of Ludwig Feuerbach
written in the 1840s, and titled The
Essence of Christianity. He noted that the
attributes of God and of man appear to be the same.
We say that God lives and that man lives, that God
knows and that man knows, that God wills and that
man wills, that God loves and that man loves.
Feuerbach then pointed out quite rightly that when
two objects have the same attributes, they must be
identical. God and man have the same attributes,
hence they are identical. This calls for the
reduction of theology to anthropology and gives
rise to an anthropocentric humanism that is a
deathblow to Christianity or any other
religion.
The remarkable fact is that six generations of
German Protestant theologians from Schleiemacher to
Karl Barth and down to the present day, all knew
that this was a deathblow to Christianity. Yet none
was able to answer Feuerbach by correcting the
basic error he made. His basic error was his
failure to see that while God and man have the same
attributes, "living," "knowing," "willing," and
"loving" when said of God and man are said
analogously, not univocally -- as
"animal" is said univocally of human beings and of
pigs and cows. They are all "animals" in the same
sense of the word.
The strange inability of German Protestant
theologians after Feuerbach to perceive this error,
led some of them to Christian humanism, which is
the complete abandonment of Christian religion; it
led others such as Karl Barth to put God beyond the
reach of the human mind in order to avoid
Feuerbach's attack.
The Second of Three
Basic Notions
The second notion of the conception of God is
that God must be thought of as a necessary being.
There is no space here to trace the evolution of
this concept from the time it was first formulated
by St. Anselm in the eleventh century, through its
amendments by St. Thomas Aquinas, Immanuel Kant and
other critical writers. Without putting too fine a
point on the matter, something maybe gained on the
side of understanding by means of the following
statement. St. Anselm pointed out that when we
think about God, we must have in mind a Supreme
Being than which no greater can be thought of. We
must also think of God as existing necessarily,
because if we did not, we could think of a greater
being. God, therefore, must be conceived as the
only being that cannot not exist, though the
question would remain whether the necessary being
we have thus conceived does in fact actually exist.
In other words, we must still discover whether
there is in reality -- outside our minds --
anything that corresponds to the concept of God we
have formed in our minds.
The Third Basic
Notion
The third basic notion in the conception of God
is that God is the cause of the existence of
whatever else that does in fact exist. No natural
causes ever cause the existence of anything;
rather, they are causes of change or becoming. The
simplest way to grasp the point quickly is to
consider animal progenitors or human parents. These
do not cause the existence of their
offspring, but only their coming to
be -- their generation.
Now the existence of whatever exists in the
world must have a cause -- must have a reason for
its existence, either in itself or in another. The
point being made here is reinforced by the
principle of parsimony which governs all our
scientific and philosophical thinking, including
our thinking in natural theology. The principle
says that we cannot affirm the existence of
anything we conceive unless we can show how its
existence is needed to explain what we already know
exists. More immediately, the same principle says
that unless God is conceived as the only
cause of the existence of whatever exists
contingently, and so needs a cause of its
existence, we cannot prove that God exists. The
proof depends on the truth of the factual
proposition that this cosmos as a whole exists
contingently -- which is another way of saying that
it is capable of not existing at all. If the latter
proposition is false, there is no valid argument
for the existence of God.
The Question of
Atheism
The question about atheism, or disbelief in God,
as it was raised by Bishop Robinson in The New
Reformation is, in my judgment, the only clear
and sensible question raised by any of the new
theologians. Bishop Robinson phrased the question
as follows. Can a truly contemporary person not be
an atheist? A fuller articulation of the question
would go like this. Must a truly contemporary
person, one who is fully acquainted with all the
genuine advances in science and philosophy, who has
lived under the conditions of contemporary life
with its holocaust, its nuclear weapons, its moral
corruption -- must not such a person be an atheist
in order to be honest and clear-headed?
In this fuller form, the question subdivides
into two parts. One refers to the incompatibility
of the belief in God with the present state of our
scientific and philosophical knowledge. The other
refers to the incompatibility of the belief in God
with the present state of our lives in the world as
it is today. I will comment on the two parts in
reverse order.
The State of
Contemporary Life
It is true that immense changes have taken place
in this century, especially in all the external
features and arrangements of our human environment.
It is true that this is the century in which such
changes have taken place at an accelerated pace and
in ever increasing volume. It is also true that the
multiplication and swift pace of change in the
external aspects of life are discomforting,
upsetting, certainly challenging and perplexing.
But it is not true that the essential features of
human life have been greatly altered, or that life
is any more difficult to live or to live well than
it ever was in the past. In some respects, it is
much easier than ever before, and in other
respects, it may be harder. On balance, however, we
cannot say that the problem of how to make a good
life for ourselves is more difficult now than it
ever was in the past. Nor can we say that it has
now become an impossible problem to solve, or that
we are doomed to defeat before we even try.
A person would have to suffer from otosclerosis
-- the most common cause for deafness -- not to
hear a familiar cry that life has become
meaningless, purposeless, absurd, vile,
intolerable. All around us we are assailed by
voices full of self-pity, almost despair over the
torment of having to be alive and to carry on in
the world as it is today. Yet for all this, there
is nothing about the conditions of contemporary
life that calls for atheism as the proper response.
I claim that life is no more difficult to live well
now than it ever was in the past; and if belief in
God ever played a role in living a good life on
earth, that role is unchanged at present. Even if
life were now more difficult, that would not
require a contemporary person to become an atheist.
On the contrary, it might more reasonably lead him
in the opposite direction, for if God does exist,
belief in Him might help man to overcome the
difficulties he now confronts.
The crux of the matter must rest, therefore,
with the present state of our scientific and
philosophic knowledge. Perhaps Bishop Robinson had
the state of that knowledge in mind when he
suggested that a truly contemporaneous person
cannot avoid being an atheist. Let us look at this
part of the picture.
To Part
Two
|
Academy
Showcase Specials
|
|
|
|
|
|
|