God is a good idea

Murray asked a good question after my post on Resurrection. Actually a few good questions.

Murray: “Were the stories of Jesus re-appearance to the disciples then just stories?”

I would say they are legends but not "just stories".

I can imagine that the stories developed from initial comments made by the first disciples: “I was sweating it out upstairs, wondering when the knock on the door would herald my own crucifixion, when I had this epiphany: Jesus said, ‘Peace be with you’ and I felt the Spirit move me to courage!” Through retelling and embellishment these comments became the stories we have now.

Alternatively, the writers of the gospels may have deliberately embellished what they knew and used stylistic idiom to indicate that the story fits into the legend genre. We may not be able to appreciate this style from our modern perspective and so take the stories as historical fact.

But I don’t think they were “just stories”. They are powerful, regardless of their historical content. I wouldn’t say that Dead Poet’s Society was “just a story”. It affected me deeply and challenged me. Similarly, I am sure that Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat is a far cry from the original story in the Bible - let alone whether the original can be called history - but both remain a single powerful story for me.

Murray: “Were they further parables to show ideas and values that Jesus taught, before He died? And if the answer is 'yes', then does that change how we understand the concept of the Trinity?”

I think legend is a specific genre distinct from parable, but I do think that part of the reason for presenting the story as legend would be to highlight Jesus’ teaching. It was also to make Jesus’ character larger than mortal life. One of the clear aims of the legend genre is to put a personality on a pedestal. In the case of Jesus this makes thematic literary sense because of the Incarnational message of Jesus: God becomes human so that people can become God.

Viewing the stories of Jesus’ resurrection appearances as legend does change one’s conception of the Trinity. In fact, it actually worked the other way around for me. I changed my ideas about God and that helped me make sense of the questions I had about the stories of the Resurrection.

And I guess that is were the rub comes. I now cross my Rubicon (drum roll please, warm up the heretic stake…):

I believe God is a Myth. It is very, very important that people read that statement within the context of what follows…

When I use the word “Myth” I do not mean “invalid” or “untrue”. I am saying that it is an idea that has power in my life, but is not objectively verifiable. Let me explain

I have long struggled to reconcile two ways of understanding the world that are both incredibly important to me and, while these worldviews are often pitched against each other, they were born in the same impulse: the desire to understand our world and our place in it.

I value both a theological and a scientific view of the world and think both are powerful means by which humanity can make sense - and a future - out of the mess we are in now. I also believe that one without the other is asking for trouble. But it has been a long and painful journey trying to work out in my head how I live with both consistently. Most of the time I have been resigned to a kind of schizophrenic ping-pong, picking and choosing between the two – but that makes me feel like a selective fundamentalist.

The crux of the matter is that science will never be able to prove that God exists or doesn’t exist. It is simply beyond the ability of the scientific method. But science weighs in heavily on the side of “does not”. Religious experience can be shown as a function of chemistry in a particular part of the brain. Theological insight (revelation) can be seen as cultural constructs common to a range of groups both near and far from each other. The universe demonstrates no evidence of design; in fact what one sees is very messy and clumsy. So the tentative, if sometimes forceful, opinion of science is that God, for all practical purposes, does not exist.

I agree: God is not objectively verifiable. There is no evidence that God exists.

However, I still think believing in God has merit. Whatever the existence of God actually means, God is a good idea (Crusades and Jihad not-with-standing).

I see science and theology as two ways of knowing, one based on objectively verifiable information we receive through rigorous testing and re-testing of our world. This is science. It helps us make sure that what we see, actually exists in such a way that we can accurately predict what will happen tomorrow. The other is theology: a way of knowing that tries to grasp at reasons and meaning that science cannot explain; indeed, to extract from apparent chaos, some semblance of sensibility.

Within the scientific framework it is not a useful question to ask, “Does God exist?” It would be like asking “Does love exist?” I can identify the hormones, observe the behaviour and write it off as just so much chemical interaction and social instinct. But no scientist worth their salt would propose such a thing for a scientist is still human and capable of love. There is a magic – a mystery – beyond the data that is more than the sum of its parts. In fact, most good science would add to the wonder of love, by demonstrating its intricate complexities at the chemical and social level. It is theology’s task (with the other “art” disciplines) to help humanity become more than the sum or its parts.

I find a “eureka” experience when turning to a more appropriate question of the God-stuff: “How do humans experience God?” Science, in all its disciplines comes up with some marvellous gems when asking that question.

I can imagine that some will say that “God is a good idea” is not the same as saying “I believe in God” Semantically, I agree, but essentially, what’s the difference?

The person who says “I believe in God” has a concept in mind, one that every good theologian will admit is a dim shadow of God. God is in the end unknowable because finite human minds cannot grasp an infinite God. The concept in the believer’s mind is an idea. It is a powerful idea because it demands the allegiance of the believer. But it is not an unchangeable idea. Of course, how that image, or concept, of God plays out in the person’s behaviour will help determine whether that particular idea of God is “good” or not, but let us assume that it is good. Essentially the believer has an idea in their head about God, which is good; i.e. “God is a good idea.”

Someone can reply: “But I believe that God is objectively verifiable.” Apart from the fact that this is an impossible task, it is still a statement born of an idea. Just saying it, doesn’t make it so.

An ultra-Darwinist might interject: “But believing in God is patently childish!” To which I would reply, “Tell that to the people whose faith kept them strong in the face of death as they fought for freedom.”

I believe in God, because God is a good idea.

Murray: “I wholly agree with the idea, I just can't seem to fit it together with the Doctrine that is held as truth.”

By now, you are probably keenly aware that I may well be playing outside Doctrine – whatever that may be. I don’t mean to be flippant - I value the Christian tradition. That tradition has given rise to both science and modern theology. Both have delivered scarcely believable advances in our understanding of ourselves and our world. Both have enlarged our awe of God, but both have caused us to question God’s nature and even existence. So, I may be seen as a heretic, but I prefer to think of all this as honest wrestling. You be the judge…