Two Kinds of Argument

Scientific -vs- the other kind. The scientific kind relies on what the facts say. The science can be proven wrong by better science. The other kind relies on what emotions say or pride.

If you need to convince someone who refuses to act like a scientist (listening to facts), making better science isn’t going to help you very much. The person you’re arguing with (who might be a scientist during the day, even, but is merely being a person right now) is not going to be swayed from a firmly held opinion by your work to make better science. It’s more likely that it will take cultural pressure, shame, passion, humor, connection and a host of unreliable levers to make your point.

The easy way to tell the two varieties of argument apart is to ask, “what evidence would you need to see to change your mind about this?”

Don’t argue about belief, argue about arguments. The essence of a belief is that we own it, regardless of what’s happening around us. The key to making a rational argument is that your assertions must be falsifiable.

“I believe A because of B and C.” If someone can show you that “C” isn’t actually true, then it’s not okay to persist in arguing “A”. The statement, “All swans are white” is falsifiable, because if I can find even one black swan, we’re done.

On the other hand, “Aliens are about to take over the world with flying saucers,” is not, because there’s nothing I can do or demonstrate that would satisfy the person who might respond, “well, they’re just very well hidden, and they’re waiting us out.”

If belief in “A” is important to someone’s story, people usually pile up a large number of arguments that are either not testable, or matters of opinion and taste. There’s nothing wrong with believing “A”, but it’s counterproductive to engage with someone in a discussion about whether you’re right or not. It’s a belief, or an opinion, both of which are fine things to have, but it’s not a logical conclusion or a coherent argument, because those require asserting something we can actually test.

You can’t argue with feelings. The key question is, “is there something I can prove or demonstrate that would make you stop believing in ‘A’?” If the honest answer is ‘no’, then we’re not having an argument, are we?

Before we waste a lot of time arguing about something that appears to be a rational, logical conclusion, let’s be sure we are both having the same sort of discussion.

Organization’s Effects

If you take a group of people, a subgroup of the larger population, and expose them to focused messages again and again, you will start to change their point of view. If you augment those messages with exposure to other members of the group, the messages will begin to have ever more impact.

We generally tend to align ourselves with those we’re around. We don’t fully understand why. There is a lot of psychology we know, and then other stuff we can’t explain. Yawning, for instance, can be statistically shown to be contagious. It has been studied for years, yet we don’t know why it happens.

Once a group starts to become aligned, and starts acting like a tribe, the messages of the tribe will become self-reinforcing. When someone is born into that tribe, there is a very high probability she will never know the difference. It is simply her common sense about the way the world works.

Programmed.

Are You Really Sure?

What if the speed of light isn’t constant? You don’t have to think too far into that question to surmise that it would break a lot of what we think we know about the universe.

VSL (Varying Speed of Light) is a real theory that has some traction, but is considered out of mainstream physics. It does resolve a few very sticky problems in our current understanding of the universe. For just one example you probably aren’t aware of…the cosmological expansion we often hear about actually appears to be accelerating, which in current (constant speed) thinking would imply that on a large scale gravity is repulsive. The science we accept is not at all iron clad.

There are two ways to look at this:

1. What can we be sure of? The answer, truthfully, is not much. Everything can be questioned.
2. When the prevailing science gives us a solid answer that remains stable for decades, we can be sure enough that it’s true to go ahead and act on it. That’s being practical.

There is always going to be that shred of doubt. It’s usually nothing, but sometimes a universe can be found there.

Okay, it’s mildly interesting to entertain these thoughts, but really, what difference does it make? It doesn’t impact that I have to go to work tomorrow, or take out the trash. Does it? Well…first, you don’t really have to do any of those things. Second…it gets to the religious question, and that changes potentially everything about what we’re supposed to be doing.

The more you learn about these subjects, the more you discover that “we” (as in the human race) know a lot more than “we” (the individuals) are aware of. We really do know and understand a lot about how the universe works. At the same time, you begin to see how many problems and mysteries there are within and around all of these things we think we know, which makes the mysteries all the more profound and troublesome.

As I have written before, it takes a bit of a leap of faith either way.

The more fundamental (to me) question is…what makes us leap one way or the other? Why do some look up at the sky and see God, whereas others look up and see only physics? Really think about that question for a while. What tips the scale one way or the other for an individual?

Is Truth Relative?

It depends on what you mean by “truth.”

There are only about three possible scenarios for how the universe works.

1. There is an objective reality that exists, but not one human in all of history has ever witnessed it. Everything, EVERYTHING, is processed through the human system of perception. Our perception is our reality. It has been proven time and time again that our perceptions, and therefore the beliefs that stem from them, are faulty. We are easily fooled or tricked into believing things are real or accurate, when they can be shown not to be. We also have tons of evidence that shows similar individuals in similar circumstances perceive things differently. They may resemble reality to some extent, but there are many – perhaps an unknowable number of – flaws or discrepancies between what we see and believe is going on and the way the world “is,” versus the objective reality that may actually exist.
2. There is no objective reality at all. There is merely the sum of our thoughts and beliefs, and all that we invent therein, which add up to something that seems objectively real to us. Taken to the extreme, this theory goes toward painting us as ‘only’ a consciousness. Seems far-fetched to me, but we have to admit it is possible.
3. There are many objective realities. Each one existing in its own universe, with its own history and distinctiveness. There is evidence to support that these different universes occupy the same space, but are simply out of phase with each other in a way that allows them to overlap without interacting. In any case, the embodied consciousnesses that occupy each one of those may or may not be able to process their relative realities the way they actually are. Certainly, in the universe where we exist, there is ample evidence to show that we at best perceive a facsimile of our surrounding reality.  See #1.

So, truth? Yeah, my truth and your truth can be a bit different. Or a lot different. The answer to this is almost certainly not knowable by man, at least until maybe we might possibly someday transcend into some other, much more enlightened state.

What do we do about it? Nothing. As far as my perception can tell, we can’t do a bloody thing, and the exercise itself is nearly pointless. We have the lives we have and the perceptions we own that go along with them. That is the reality we must work within. We simply have to do the best we can there, because anything else would appear to defeat any possible purpose or joy in life for us. And it wouldn’t do any good anyway.

But, be mindful of what this normally concrete term really implies. Your truth, no matter how iron-clad it may seem to you, is absolutely faulty (i.e. wrong) in some ways. May we all learn to operate within the humility of that reality. Minimally that means being cautious about what you think, feel, believe, and remember. More profoundly it means questioning it down to the core of who you think you are, and why you are that way. These are extremely tough questions to genuinely grapple with, in part because it’s all tied up in perception and our programming. Any conclusions you may come to are suspect.

Since it’s not really knowable, does that mean that we’re just as well off with whatever makes us feel good? Probably. And that’s awesome for those who don’t get wrapped up in the doubts or can just feel good enough about whatever they believe. Some people are naturally able to hold their beliefs in a way that to them seems nearly iron clad. What is the answer for those who don’t? Modify our beliefs? Yeah, how exactly does one go about that without some satisfying justification (i.e. compelling evidence)?

How do you convince yourself? I asked a qualified friend once if hypnotism works. Her answer (paraphrased): “It can if you believe it.”

Damn.

 

 

 

Religion’s Social Reinforcement

Once culture or set of behaviors becomes intertwined with our lives for a period of time its distinctiveness fades. In the United States, religion is a part of our way of life. While some have argued that Christianity is the national faith, and others that church and synagogue celebrate only the generalized religion of “the American Way of Life,” only recently have many realized that there actually exists alongside of and rather clearly differentiated from the churches an elaborate and well-institutionalized civil religion in America.

We celebrate some religiously based holidays in an official (governmental) capacity. Many of us share some fundamental beliefs and values in terms of how our society is organized and operated. They are based on, parallel to, but independent of the the theological tenets of each specific denomination or religious belief. This dates back to the early notions of the nation as religiously diverse by design (free from religious tyranny), but while not being too overtly biased in any one tradition, it clearly was based primarily on the Protestant ethos and set of values.

So here we are, a religious country that while presumably based on freedom of religion, doesn’t necessarily subscribe to freedom from religion, and certainly doesn’t appear to honor its own tenet of separation of church and state. (All of which varies somewhat according to your geographic location in the country.) This produces a bias worth briefly pointing out.

1. Religious Bias – If your chosen set of beliefs happen to align well with the Protestant framework the country and society was built upon, you have it easy. Things invisibly make sense to you, and you probably don’t even see how biased and gamed it all is. Of course, if you happen to be of some other religion, lots of things stick out and seem to fall somewhere on the continuum from weird to downright unfair or discriminatory.
2. Anti Religious Bias – In recent decades the pendulum has swung more towards an increasingly forceful resistance to all things in our culture that reek of being driven from a religious notion. The divide has widened. It has at times appeared to reach a point of near irrationality. Unfortunately, the baby sometimes gets thrown out with the bathwater here. There is a history of statesmen who happen to fit well within this parallel civil religious state, but who are great and effective leaders first and foremost. They can get tossed aside, which seems to leave even more room for the more dogmatic to get their voices heard and rise into a consciousness of a generation that otherwise would have recognized them as extreme.

Certainly the chasm between the different religious groups, not to mention those who do not believe in anything religious being part of our government, stands in stark relief these days, largely due to our ability to consume the media that paints these pictures. Often people on or near the fence are pushed away in the crossfire.

Perhaps we would be better off it it wasn’t so blatant. Things would be a little less cozy and comfortable for those who’s values align with the prevailing values of the society we have now, but if the overall populace were more validated and respected, the chasm could close. I argue that if we’re smart, in a rising tide lifting all boats way, the WASP’s would proactively give up the bias to help produce an environment of better dialog and growth. This is one where meeting half way may not be enough. Things have been too skewed for too long, and aside from arguably not being right, it’s obviously just not going to work effectively anymore.

Civil religion (“civility” being the operative concept) can be a great way to build a society, but in order to work it must walk a well thought-out line between being too biased towards one group versus being too watered down to be meaningful. That’s a big challenge for some capable leadership. Without it, things will continue to degrade.

Ominous.

 

Atheism: Instrumental versus Intrinsic

I have taken a number of shots at religion, and specifically Christianity over the years, partly because I think there is often an underlying agenda, but mostly because a lot of it seems off-base to some degree: flawed or maybe false, or maybe just incomplete – man’s attempt to make sense out of something we don’t, or can’t, understand – it’s hard to say. But to say I believe nothing is going on is too extreme. Remember, perception is the only reality we have.

Let’s face it – most atheists, theists, agnostics act as though the truth is a good thing. As if it’s intrinsically good (not just instrumentally good). Most people feel morally obligated to spread what is true. However, on atheism (or naturalism), truth only has instrumental value; for one to believe that truth exists intrinsically somewhere out there would make one a Platonist, which would be a position held on faith. (Can you prove that truth exists intrinsically?) I’ve spoken with atheists, and their first reaction has often been that they did not want to believe truth is instrumental only to the person on atheism. After I explained this to them, they usually agreed that truth only has instrumental value (since evolution is about ‘the survival of the fittest’, which would only place instrumental value on things, and intrinsic value would not line up with evolution; and they did not want to hold anything ‘on faith’). The paradox is that nearly all atheists, act as though truth is intrinsically good.

Where do agnostics fall? If you don’t know if God exists, then you would be agnostic that truth is intrinsically or instrumentally good, though you may act as though truth is intrinsically good. Now you have the knowledge that on atheism (naturalism), nothing has intrinsic value, and now you know that truth would only be instrumental to each individual person (how persuasive can someone be trying to persuade others of the truth with that kind of position?), and under atheism (or naturalism), no one is morally obligated to spread the truth.

 

Three Paradoxes of Atheism

Historically, one of the most attractive features of atheism has been its claim to stark realism. No matter how unappealing a godless universe may turn out to be, atheists claim to be committed to adhering to the truth at all costs. However, at the very heart of atheism there are several extremely unexpected paradoxes; areas in which atheism is shown to be in tension with a commitment to realism and a life consistent with truth. The three big ones are: truth-seeking, moral reflection, and moral motivation. Hard to apply any kind of “morality” to atheism, but in this context you will see that it makes sense. Comparisons are drawn against Christianity because it provides a tangible contrast, but they work reasonably well for most religions.

1. Truth-seeking

One of the most interesting paradoxes inherent to atheism involves the intrinsic value of truth-seeking. All of us seem naturally inclined as human beings to seek the truth for its own sake (intrinsic), not merely for what benefits the truth can provide (instrumental). For instance, if someone told us, “Believe this religion not because it is true, but because it will improve your marriage and help your career,” most of us would be unimpressed to say the least. But herein lies the first problem: it is very hard for atheists to explain why seeking the truth is intrinsically good or why we are obligated to seek it.

Most atheistic theories of morality appeal to human flourishing as the ultimate good. On this view, what is good is whatever leads to human flourishing. And while that definition does solve some problems, it leads to the very difficult conclusion that truth and truth-seeking are not ultimate goods. Indeed, if seeking the truth on any given subject would diminish human flourishing, then seeking that truth would be evil; we would be morally obligated to avoid or suppress knowledge of that truth. A simple example is an elderly Christian woman on her deathbed who faces death joyfully because she believes she is going to be with God and her dead loved ones. Assuming for the sake of argument that atheism is true, is it good for her to seek to know the truth of atheism? It would seem that the answer is no. Learning that atheism is true would only make her miserable without providing tangible good (i.e. flourishing) to anyone else. Moreover, it seems that if she were to accost a passing atheist with the question,”Is atheism true after all?”, that atheist would be morally obligated either to lie to her or at least to steer her away from the truth of atheism, lest he lead her into misery.

Examples can be easily multiplied, but the essence of the problem is that it would be impossible for an atheist to claim that truth-seeking is an intrinsic good or a moral obligation. A Christian can affirm that truth is good and morally obligatory because God loves the truth and commands us to seek it (though there are numerous exceptions and paradoxes within). But if an atheist were to urge one to throw off religious delusions and embrace the truth of atheism, one could respond, “Why? I am happy as a Christian and Christianity has made me into a more loving, compassionate, and generous person. If Christianity is true, then I understand why I am obligated to seek the truth. But if atheism is true, why am I obligated to find out?”

2. Moral reflection

A trickier paradox has to do with deliberate, sustained moral reflection on injustice and evil in the world. All of us recognize that the world is suffused with human misery. But many of us give relatively little thought to suffering until it forces itself into our consciousness. Why is this? I hope it is more than just a lack of compassion. Self-protection? On some level we may fear that if our hearts were truly moved by every hurt, every loss, and every tragedy that we witnessed, they would break. Although we all recognize that empathy is one of the greatest moral virtues, we recoil at any level of empathy that threatens our own happiness and emotional stability. That is one reason why we vacation in luxury resorts well away from the slums, prefer romantic comedies to documentaries, or inure ourselves to violence until we can shrug off images of the maimed and weeping on television.

The paradox of atheism is that the atheist, while usually committed to living a life consistent with reality, struggles to bear reality as he believes it actually is. If all of the suffering and horror of this world is truly random and pointless, if there will be no redemption, no justice, no healing, and no restoration, then it is emotionally almost impossible to truly stare reality in the face on a daily basis. One possible outcome is to live a life of hopeless, existential despair. But it is far more likely that we will simply build a thick, protective wall of fantasy around us, constructed of hobbies, games, sports, fashion, or romance as a barrier against truths we would rather not face. The atheist will sometimes assert that he lives in that reality and accepts it, but I believe that’s only an academic and dismissive acceptance. It’s not true, deliberate and sustained moral reflection that presumably should accompany a decision about which set of beliefs one buys into.

I am not implying that avoidance of the hard realities of suffering and evil are characteristic only of atheists. Christians face precisely the same temptations. The difference is that Christianity offers resources to face the worst parts of reality with assured hope (discounting that it can manifest as a moral-feeling means to ignore them). Yes, it could be a fantasy, and a way to conveniently avoid things, but if Christianity is true, then even the most devastating horrors of this existence will be redeemed, which, I must be fair to point out, doesn’t justify or explain why some of them were necessary in the first place (one of Christianity’s nasty paradoxes). In fact, Christianity claims that the greatest tragedy ever to occur in human history -the torture and murder of God’s Son- was the very means which God used to save the world. Since I’ve made my take on this clear before, I will not venture down that rabbit hole today.

The point is that while the atheist can instrumentally preserve his emotional stability by either hiding from reality as he believes it actually is or by hardening himself to it, the Christian can gain emotional stability, empathy and hope as he exposes himself to and embraces reality as he believes it actually is. Indeed, Christian spiritual disciplines such as prayer and Bible study can be seen in this light: reminding themselves of reality as they see it and then seeking to conform their thoughts and behavior to it.

3. Moral motivation

Another paradox has to do with moral motivation: what are the effects of atheistic belief on our desire to behave morally? Most atheists adamantly affirm that they do not need God to do good. In this I agree: we do not need to believe that God exists in order to recognize that love, justice, and compassion are good or to behave morally. These values can be important to virtually anyone. So here, I am not asking whether atheists can do good. Rather, I am focusing only on the impact that atheism has on one’s moral motivation.

If atheism is true, then the universe is one without ultimate moral meaning, significance, and accountability. When you die, your body rots. When everyone you love dies, they rot. Two hundred years hence, no one – not even your own descendants – will remember you. And a few hundred trillion years from now, when the universe undergoes heat death and all the stars burn out, none of your choices will have made even the slightest difference.

Let us imagine that we spent one hour each day reminding ourselves of this reality. Now let’s imagine we face a moral choice. The opportunity to cheat on a test. The chance to make a little extra money in a slightly dishonest way, or worse. Or, given the last section, let’s imagine making major life decisions. Which career to choose: one that is lucrative or satisfying, or one that will benefit others at our own expense? Which house to buy: one that is large and expensive, or a modest one that would allow us to give generously? If we have spent the previous month reminding ourselves that our choices have no eternal moral consequences, are we more or less likely to resist our temptations? Are we more or less likely to make what society and our programming have deemed the morally right choice?

Let me again emphasize that I am not asking whether the atheist can still value morality or engage in moral behavior. I am taking atheists at their word when they insist that these things are important to them. I am instead asking a purely psychological question: would reflection on the ultimate meaninglessness, transience, and unimportance of your moral actions in a godless universe make you more likely to resist what you believe to be temptation? I think the answer is no, unless perhaps your stance is so pure that you don’t even believe in the concept of temptation, which is not what atheists profess. Hence we have a third paradox. To the atheist who really does value moral behavior, it seems he is obligated to avoid thinking about the implications of his atheism, lest it weaken his moral resolve. The atheist gains moral motivation only by hiding from reality as he actually believes it is. In contrast, the Christian worldview emphasizes that every one of our moral decisions have eternal implications, that every one of our actions can bring joy or grief to the creator, and that we will one day be held accountable for our lives. So the Christian gains moral motivation by reflecting on reality as he believes it actually is.

Conclusion

In conclusion, I’ll summarize the three paradoxes into a more bite-sized form.

1. Truth-seeking. If a truth-loving God doesn’t exist, then truth-seeking is neither intrinsically good nor morally obligatory. Therefore, paradoxically, the Christian has grounds to urge all people to seek the truth and to claim it is their moral obligation to seek the truth whereas the atheist has no grounds to urge others to seek the truth or to claim it is their moral obligation to do so.
2. Moral reflection. Suffering and evil in the world is so prolific and horrendous that we instinctively avoid thinking about it to preserve our happiness. If Christianity is true, then all suffering and evil will one day be destroyed and healed. If atheism is true, suffering and evil are pointless and will never be rectified. So, paradoxically, a Christian gains the emotional resources to reflect honestly on suffering by reflecting on reality as he perceives it, while an atheist gains the emotional resources to reflect honestly on suffering only by ignoring reality as he perceives it.
3. Moral motivation. If Christianity is true, then all of our moral choices have tremendous, eternal significance. If atheism is true, then none of our moral choices have any eternal significance. So, paradoxically, the Christian gains the motivation to act morally by reflecting on reality as he perceives it, while the atheist gains the motivation to act morally by ignoring reality as he perceives it.

None of these observations imply that atheism is false or that Christianity is true. But I hope that they do cause some serious reflection. At least in these three areas, there is a conflict between the general perception that atheists live a life of realism, facing the truth about reality squarely, and the philosophical and psychological reality of atheism itself. In contrast, Christianity not only provides a basis for the idea that truth is of intrinsic value (though possibly unattainable), but provides resources to enable the Christian to conform his beliefs and behavior to that version of truth. I suggest that those who value truth-seeking and realism should consider whether atheism can justify or support either of these ideals, while I also recognize that the truth of the Christian’s perception may in practice only be of instrumental value.

Though it does take more rigorous work to call out the fallacies of atheism (as opposed to Christianity being a relatively easy target), both concepts are riddled with problems and don’t/can’t hold up well to scrutiny. Unfortunately (if you’re with me so far), that leaves a vast middle ground. The unknown, and unknowable. What to do about that, I am not sure. Beyond some value in always questioning, being immobilized isn’t much better. Most of the same human fallacies and tranquilizing artifacts plague this ground as well.

We’re all in this together. What it is, we do not know.

Religion is More than Belief

Religion, spirituality, and belief have often been lumped together over the years, even though they have some inherent incongruities.

I recently made a comparison between religion and spirituality. As a quick follow up, it’s worth mentioning that my declaration about religion being based on belief in a supreme being was necessarily narrow in order for the very valid contrasts to be simple to understand.

I stand by the statement. That is the basis of it, at least with respect to the spiritual kind of religion (as opposed to one who has a religion about some secular thing like exercising). But that’s not all there is to it. Its main value may not be in its propositional content. Religion (in loosest terms) is not necessarily a set of scientific, objective claims about the universe. It’s not just beliefs. It’s a set of practices and rituals that have stood the test of time.

Things that have endured for a long time are, by probability, likely to endure – otherwise they would have died out already. It is hard to see The Odyssey, The Bible, The Iliad and similar works being forgotten, whereas last year’s bestseller is unlikely to be remembered in 100 years, let alone 1000. Time may refine things by getting rid of the bad parts & keeping the parts that humans have found valuable. Because religion has stood the test of time, we must acknowledge that with respect to probability, it must be valuable to humans in some essential way. In other words, it’s probable that if there were no human value, it would not have withstood the test of time.

Taken further, we could assume that when there is something in nature we don’t understand, odds are it makes sense in some deeper way that is beyond our understanding. So there is a logic to natural things that is superior to our own. What Mother Nature does is rigorous until proven otherwise; what humans and science do is flawed until proven otherwise.

Religion is more about trust, or faith than about the objective, predictive claims that science deals in. The belief in religion is ‘epiphenomenal’, i.e. follows from practice, not the other way around. It’s about practice such as going to church, fasting, celebrating holidays such as Easter, various dietary restrictions, collective prayer, and so on.

If something like religion (or wine, or cities, or biological organisms, etc.) has been around for a long time, you may think of it as antifragile – otherwise it would have died out. If religion has endured for this long, it probably encodes a bunch of practices that – even if we can’t see the point of some of them – are likely to be right for humanity in some way. At least instrumentally, and maybe more.

 

 

Getting to the Change

One of the most difficult skills to master in life is helping people  (ourselves included) make changes that will benefit them in the long run – even if it means annoyance or sacrifice in the short term. That could mean anything from getting a child to clean his or her room to convincing a customer to switch from a competitor’s brand to yours.

We’re all selling something, but you can’t force anyone to buy it. Worse, if someone feels you are pushing it on them, emotions will take over and they will resist buying it even if it hurts them not to.

That’s why the best salespeople see themselves as trusted service providers and advisors, not product pushers. They understand that change isn’t easy, and that’s what makes them effective in creating strong relationships with customers. Regardless of the context or gravity of whatever the situation is, these basic questions apply:

1. What does the person want to change?
2. Why does the person want to change?
3. What does the she really want? What is the ultimate goal?
4. What is preventing someone from changing? Why has he or she not already changed?
5. What motivates the him? What makes her tick?
6. What is involved in making the change? What will it take?
7. How will the person behave before, during, and after the change?

You can practice this almost anywhere you encounter people, even picking random ones out of a group at a restaurant or park. See what answers you can come up with: Why is this person here? Where does that person want to go in life?

To quote Dwight D. Eisenhower, “Leadership is the art of getting someone else to do something you want done because he wants to do it.” How many times a day do other people ask you to do something without going to the trouble of outlining how you’ll benefit from taking on the task? People need to feel ownership over change, even if the idea doesn’t come from them. Before you ask someone to take a step in a new direction, be sure to communicate your vision of a new and great experience.

Faith

Faith is complete trust or confidence. It is absolute. True religious faith is a gift from God. Therefor you have it or you don’t. You can’t will it. While we may all have the capacity, some seem to be chosen to actually have faith. Perhaps it is blind. Perhaps misguided. Perhaps real. But it’s clear that some at least appear to have it, while others do not.

Some might say we are able to choose to have faith. However, and here we go with the linguistic distinctions again, “having faith” in that type of context isn’t always used to convey that it’s something one possesses. Often what we really mean is, trying to make that leap of faith. Or to act with faith. If we are choosing it, then we don’t inherently have it.

When we refer to faith, often what we really mean is that we have a strong belief. We choose that. It’s what we want to be true, or have decided for ourselves is true. True faith would not be a choice.

Belief clings, while faith lets go. Faith can be great for those who have it…although, could it be a type of neuroses? For those who don’t…all of the trying in the world is futile. The best you can do is choose to believe, which can look a lot like faith. It’s a fine line.

 

Emotion & Spirituality

It is likely spirituality is just an emotion. But…

There are threads throughout this blog that touch on religion. One may not agree with my interpretation, but it’s certainly a valid one. It’s fascinating to observe the ways in which emotion and religion feed off of one another. I question whether religion could succeed without our tendency to be deeply affected by our emotions. Many like to believe religion is driven from spirituality.

• Religion being based on the belief in and worship of a supernatural being.
• Spirituality being of or related to the human spirit or soul.

The latter is harder to precisely nail down, and not as well understood. When I label someone as religious, we all know what I mean. A characterization of spiritual means….what exactly? It may conjure images of a Buddhist in a temple in Tibet or a pot-smoking hippie in Haight Ashbury. The former, by the way, is a religion. As a religion, Buddhism seems to get more of a pass as being more spiritual in nature, at least in our western culture.

Some religions do seem to have more of a pure connection to our spirituality than others, but there’s a distinctly subjective component to such an assessment. To a Catholic, her religion may be deeply personal and spiritual, but to a different Catholic, or an outsider who practices another religion, it can seem more like a business. Nice if someone happens to get some spiritual benefit from it, or if it helps society in some way, but the manifestation feels more like a business in its day to day actions. Again, this is subjective – a view I am not declaring as my own, but observe. Don’t mean to pick on Catholics. They are an easy target, but nearly every religion suffers from some of the same. You can think of it as a PR problem, or more.

People who declare themselves as spiritual often have a sort of almost condescending disdain for “organized religion.” They believe those organizations aren’t pure – tainted by hypocrisy and human agendas, not to mention the unsustainable science (not that science is infallible) – and while they can be helpful, they are just as often harmful to society and the world. We all know there is ample evidence to support this claim, which is one reason why it prevails. (Other reasons are that we sometimes believe what we want to believe and what’s convenient for us, and often look at and only “see” evidence that validates those desires or already held beliefs. This debate will likely rage until the end of time, and I have little to no ambition of resolving it here.)

So spirituality seems to exist on some moral high ground in our linguistic interpretation. It is almost by definition pure, and so one who is very spiritual, or connected spiritually, not only doesn’t “need” religion, but is thought to be operating on a higher plane, even if that person happens to also practice a religion. When viewed this way, it sure does start to sound like religion is frivolous. Like a bunch of rules stapled to the real or true underpinnings that are supposedly what make it viable in the first place.

But what is spirituality really? Once we get past the linguistic interpretations and visual images that concept conjures, what actually is it really all about? The human spirit is often thought about outside of the confines of spirituality, even though they’re presumably based on the same thing. Again, our linguistic interpretations get fuzzy, making meanings soft, and able to shift around in different contexts.

Is spirituality just a manifestation of whatever our human spirit happens to be, or is it some mystical quality – or even a force – that we don’t/can’t fully understand, but can only hope to tap into through disciplined practice? Spirituality doesn’t require a God, but it does seem to require…something. Something not part of us, at least biologically.

Several years ago I told a dear friend that I speculate God is in each of us (as opposed to some metaphorical king on a throne in heaven). Sounds kind of “spiritual,” eh? We have a very respectful disagreement about religion, but it hasn’t included me fleshing out this idea of what I meant by that. The depths of what I’d have to go through to do it here aren’t practical, unless the reader is seeking a treatment for insomnia, but I can summarize a couple of options.

1. Some abstract manifestation of the Holy Spirit. 1/3 of the Trinity (even if you don’t believe in the other two parts). Not something separate from our spirit, or something that influences our spirit, but it actually is our spirit. Or our spirit is it. Whichever way you want to look at it. It is this quality that is in us that gives rise to everything we ultimately associate with spirituality and religion. I don’t necessarily mean this to indicate it is false, and we made the rest up (though that is a distinct possibility). Taking it a step further (than I would), it could even be that this quality is a part of a greater whole in some capacity that connects us on a very deep, unconscious level, or acts as a sort of force that directs us in subtle yet profound ways. Taken far enough, that interpretation could get us pretty close to conventional wisdom about religion – right up to that greater whole being God, or part of God.
2. It’s emotions. Our body chemistry doing what it does, and our mind applying all sorts of deep significance and meaning to it. On the surface this makes it seem like something that only manifests within us – chemistry and cognition combine to produce something psychologically, which implies it isn’t real in a conventional spiritual (and certainly religious) sense. That’s possible, but it’s also possible those things are real, and do in fact connect us in very deep and profound ways that we may only be beginning to have the understanding to leave room for. One possibility here is to view it in a quantum context. At the quantum level, things that don’t seem like they even could be connected, are. We do not understand how or why it works, but it is demonstrable. In other words, there are forces (and I use that term loosely) at work that we cannot pinpoint to a cause, or understand how they work. (Sorry, but a whole treatise on quantum theory is well beyond the scope of this writing. To get you started with the tip of the iceberg, look up quantum superposition and quantum entanglement. Then work from there). When things are mysterious to us – can’t be explained – they tend to get assigned all sorts of mystic qualities because in our linear/cartesian (non-quantum) way of generally perceiving the world, we assume there has to be a “force” (in our limited linguistic definition of force) that is acting on them. For example: before humans understood weather, we knew storms were driven by a force, but couldn’t explain it, so it was mysterious and became tied to everything else that was mysterious about the world. It’s easy to see how this would give rise to the concept of a master controller, and how we might still be doing that in other domains today. But I digress. Anyway…

1 & 2 have a lot of potential overlap between them in a sort of Chicken and Egg way, though they can each stand on their own as well.

Or, it’s really just purely emotion, and chemistry, and nothing else.

But there’s that nagging feeling (emotion) that there is something else going on.

Yeah, it’s probably just emotion that becomes a belief.