[+/-] 1984

Here's my sales pitch:

1984 is the most insightful, practical, inspirational book on faith available today. It contains several role models - heroes of faith - each one applicable for people of different personality types and levels of intelligence. Orwell crafts a brilliant allegory, detailing his vision of the ideal world in which all people are capable of overcoming their skepticism and finding true contentment through prefect faith.

There are two major stumbling blocks in 1984 that cause readers to misunderstand or reject Orwell's vision of faith. The first is the extremely brutal, autocratic church Orwell describes. Although the reader is sure to disapprove of the church's practices, at least he or she can see the applications of Orwell's principles within a more moderate religious structure. In any case, one can forgive the malevolence of Orwell's religious institution if it is understood that the purest faith can be best observed against a backdrop of the darkest evil. It must be remembered that Orwell's goal is to describe perfect faith, not a perfect object of faith. In fact, the more brutal and absurd the object of faith, the more authentic and absolute the faith itself must be. And if absolute faith is possible in the most adverse circumstances, how much more possible for us!

The second stumbling block for many readers is that 1984 is a satire, and a subtle one. Like Lewis' Screwtape Letters, 1984 is theology in reverse, written as if by a staunch enemy of faith. The protagonist scorns what he perceives to be the madness of his neighbor's faith, and at times even wins the reader's agreement, but in the end, faith prevails, and it is demonstrated that skepticism, not faith, is true madness, that joy and hope can be found only through faith, and that no one is beyond redemption.

This book is a must-read for anyone who struggles with understanding and achieving child-like faith. Orwell admits the difficulties of this pursuit, but is legitimately optimistic about it's achievement. The reader must finally conclude that the task, while daunting, is well worth the effort, and the necessary sacrifices pale in comparison to the magnificent of unqualified faith.

Ok, I'm lying to you. Orwell was in not a proponent of faith, and 1984 is in no way a satire of skepticism. The book is set in a totalitarian state that demands absolute submission and orthodoxy of it's citizens. The people are expected to believe even the most glaring lies and contradictions in order to maintain their leader's image of infallibility. And they do. The first time I read this book I was incredulous. I thought it was absurd that people could or would be so blind to their own self-inflicted lunacy. But then I realized that they were simply people with great faith - people who "sought an understanding within their faith", and who had already established their leader's infallibility in their own minds. I began to admire these people. They're no different from Christians - or rather, from what Christians aspire to be.

Now before you get your underdrawers in a knot, let me clarify. I'm not saying faith is bad or that Christianity is madness or God is Big Brother or theology requires doublethink, (well, maybe the last one) nor am I advocating torture as a means of achieving orthodoxy. I'm just saying that my understanding of faith is similar to Orwells: blind adherence to preset dogma, without or regardless of any evidence. Faith is madness, in that it is outside of, and often contrary to, logic.

Faith has it's place, of course. I have nothing against the sort of faith that allows me to sit down in a chair without meticulously examining it's structural integrity. Faith in the continued operation of the laws of physics, faith that allows every-day assumptions based on the weight of evidence, faith in professionals to do their jobs or in friends to be there for me - all of these are reasonable and profitable. But unfounded faith - faith in a certain doctrine or theological concept despite compelling evidence to the contrary - this I do not understand.

There is something noble about the members of the Party in 1984. Achieving "victory over one's self" is a great accomplishment, and no one can dispute that the results are desirable: contentment, security, a sense of purpose. But at the same time it's abominable. Is there any greater degradation than this: to willfully and meticulously delude yourself, to scorn reason and embrace madness?

I have a hard time believing that God is at work in my life. I say "in my life" because I'm not opposed to the possibility of God being at work in other people's lives. If you speak in tongues or are inexplicably filled with joy or were miraculously saved from a hellish life, I have no interest in telling you that it's all coincidence or delusion. I'm not in a position to make that judgment. But when I look at my own life, and compare it to what I understand the Bible to say, I think it's probable that no god is active in me. People tell me I should "stop doubting" and "have faith", which I understand to mean "attribute all good things in your life to the finger of God, in order to support the preconception of his involvement". Understand, I'm not refusing to do this, and I'm not saying it's bad or stupid. But I have yet to hear a compelling argument in favor of this kind of faith.

I have a terrible time with prayer. I seem to be capable of two approaches to prayer: either to believe that what I pray will come about, or to believe that it won't. Others call these approaches "making demands of God" and "lacking faith" respectively, and they would say that both are bad. They would say that there's a third approach: sincerely believing that what you pray will come about, but at the same time acknowledging that it may not, believing that God is fully capable of doing what you ask and that "all who ask receive", but at the same time believing that God may have a "better plan", being ecstatic when your prayers are "answered", and seeing it as further evidence of God's goodness, yet being un-phased when your prayers are unanswered, and seeing this as evidence that God knows best. They call this "having faith"; Orwell would call it doublethink. But whatever you call it, I can't do it. When I try to believe, (and I have, and I do) I am crushed by unanswered prayer, and people say "don't put God in a box". When I try to be realistic about the odds of my prayers being answered, I loose all motivation to pray, and people say "you need to trust God". When what I pray for happens, my mind says "it was going to happen anyway", and when it doesn't happen my mind says "what did you expect?" I cannot help but notice that prayers for improbable things are "answered" seldom, and prayers for probable things are "answered" often. In fact, prayers seem to be answered with about the same frequency as you would expect, if prayer were utterly powerless. I can recall no personal exception to this rule. And so I have become frustrated with prayer. It's gotten so that I have difficulty asking God to do anything, particularly for myself. Although I intellectually acknowledge the "power of prayer", and welcome - even solicit - prayer on my behalf, I generally find my mind wandering when others pray for me in my presence. Prayer meetings are something to be endured; my instinct is generally to walk out. Don't misunderstand me! I want to believe in prayer. I try to believe in prayer. But my circumstances and personality are not conducive to belief. My only other option would be to believe in the manner of 1984 - that is, to believe despite what I see as compelling evidence to the contrary, through a process of self-deception. This is abhorrent to me. (I did not mean to imply earlier that everyone who "has faith" is willfully deceiving themselves. For some, true faith comes naturally, and others have the good fortune to have seen miraculous answers to prayer. But in my case it does not, and I have not. My point is that for me, to have faith through some effort of the will would be no different from a Party member swallowing some irrational dogma through a process of self-deception.)

I can remember sitting in theology class last year, learning about the trinity or the incarnation or some such thing, and suddenly realizing that theology is doublethink. I realized that the trinity isn't an egg or water/ice/vapor or any of those things. It's three-in-one. And not three-in-one like some gizmo on an infomercial, but three wholes making up one whole: 1+1+1=1. Which is impossible. Likewise, Jesus wasn't 50% god, 50% man, nor was he a god in a human body or a man indwelt by a god. He was in essence fully God and fully man: 100%+100%=100%. Which is impossible. We'd read a creed, and I'd realize that it was just a string of logical falsities. And don't tell me about how God is above our human comprehension or whatever. I know that; I accept that. But there's a danger in starting out with a God who is in essence logically absurd: he can get away with anything. If God doesn't make sense, well, what did you expect? God can't make sense. If there is no good reason for God to allow pain in the world, he probably has a reason we can't comprehend. If geology says the world is billions of years old and your dogma says it's 6009 years old, there must be an explanation - say, creation with age. Why would God create the world in a way that makes it appear to disprove the Bible? He must have a reason we can't comprehend. God is a theory stated in such a way that it is impossible to disprove. This is not a victory for theism, it's simply a definition that renders a debate of the existence or characteristics of God impossible. The question is, should I blithely accept this theology as a convenient trump card for any doubts, or should I make a honest effort to examine the probability of my beliefs being true?

You should read 1984. Read it my way - as a story about skepticism and faith. Or if you don't want to read it, hopefully I've explained the main point adequately. Either way, my question to you is this: do you agree that the Party members' faith is similar to the faith Christians aspire to (albeit directed toward the wrong object)? If so, do you think that we should be aspiring to this kind of faith? Should I practice doublethink when praying? Should I force a worldview on myself that is designed to support the preconception of God's involvement in my life? Should I accept a theology that negates any possible argument against my beliefs about God? Or perhaps I misunderstand the Christian understanding of faith. If this is the case, can you correct my misconception? Does God not want me to make intellectually damaging concessions in order to bolster my faith? What do you think?

[+/-] The Problem of Pain

Seems to me that the love of knowledge is the root of all evil, just based on this stuff. (Thanks to HC for getting me thinking.) This is kind of scary for a philosopher. Could it be that the pursuit of knowledge and intimacy with God are mutually exclusive? It certainly seems that way in my life.

On a related note: I've been thinking about suffering, and the problems it creates for my belief in God. Consider the following premises:

1. God is omnipotent (all-powerful)
2. God is omnibenevolent (totally good)
3. God is omniscient (all-knowing)
4. God is the sole creator
5. Gratuitous (unnecessary) suffering and evil exists

These premises seem to be inconsistent. This is probably the greatest problem for monotheists. How is it possible, given these attributes of God (#1-4) that there is gratuitous suffering in the world? We must try to solve this problem, either by modifying one of the above premises, or by reconciling them through some other argument. Christians generally attempt to reconcile these premises using the idea of free will. If you're familiar with Genesis, you know the story of "the fall", where Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit and were cursed by God for their disobedience. The result of this disobedience is the beginning of serious human suffering - that would seem to follow from the content of the curses. This is how you account for the presence of gratuitous suffering in the creation of the perfect creator.

But...
Most of us disapprove of animal abuse, right? Most of us would frown on, say... Breaking an animals spine, hacking off a few chucks of meat, and then leaving it to bleed to death, right? Most of us would think that someone who would do that is a bit deranged, right? I think God would agree that cruelty towards animals is wrong. (eg. Balaam's donkey) But doesn't God routinely allow animals to die agonizing deaths? Why would God create a world in which animals are eaten alive?

I may be wrong, but I think most Christians would say that animal suffering is also a result of the fall. For some reason, before Adam sinned, lions used their big pointy teeth to munch straw. (As far as I can tell, this is an extrapolation of Is 11. If carnivors will eat grass in the future paradise, it follows that they ate grass in paradise past.) Somehow the fall of humanity resulted in the cursing of the whole earth and all the creatures therein. (Which can be inferred from God killing animals to make garments of skin (3:21), as well as his desire for animal sacrifice (4:3-5).) Suddenly there are tsunamis and plagues and animals eating each other.

Shift gears for a second. Why would a Christian take a non-literal view of the creation story? Because of science, right? Because archaeologists have dug up all kinds of dinosaur bones and studied layers of rock and measured the stars and they say the whole thing's zillions of years old. And because saying "God is speaking figuratively here" takes nothing away from the inerrancy/inspiration of the Bible. It just makes sense. At least, that's my understanding.

So never mind lions inexplicably being created with pointy teeth. What about Dinosaurs with pointy teeth? What do you suppose they used those for? Or what about mass-extinction being brought about by extreme climate change? It seems to me that there was suffering - I mean intense, unwarranted suffering - long before Adam and Eve. Free will cannot adequately explain the problem of pain. It can explain excessive human suffering, to a point. It cannot explain why God created a world brimming with suffering in the first place.

Are there other ways to explain the presence of pain before the fall? Sure. You could suggest that all suffering is necessary for the greater good, and therefore not gratuitous (i.e. alter premise 5). After all, if there were no predators, other animals would grow without control and cause bigger problems. But surely God could have created a system in which other, more humane means were used to control population. You could say that it's not possible to have good without bad, so pain is necessary in order to experience pleasure, but that doesn't really work for animals. You could blame Satan for pre-human suffering. But if God is the sole creator (premise 4), then Satan could not have influenced the creation of carnivors, diseases, or the geological mechanisms that cause natural disasters. You could fall back on a literal interpretation of the creation story, which compresses millions of years of prehistoric life into roughly 48 hours. But aside from the scientific gymnastics that such a view requires, you still have the problem of animals that are designed to be killing machines. Even if Lions (and apparently dinosaurs) in Eden ate straw, they were built for hunting and killing. Why?

Once again:
1. God is omnipotent
2. God is omnibenevolent
3. God is omniscient
4. God is the sole creator
5. Gratuitous suffering and evil exists

These cannot all be true, and they cannot all have been true before the fall. Either God is incapable of preventing his creatures from suffering, or God doesn't care about their suffering, or God cannot foresee suffering, or someone other than God created suffering, or there is no suffering. Take your pick. Personally, I lean towards #2 being false. From reading through the Old Testament, it seems to me that God has a thing for pain and death. He will have mercy on whom he will have mercy, and compassion on whom he will have compassion. The rest of us can go to hell.

Ok, there is one other option. I didn't want to bring this up, because some of you will think it solves the whole problem, and others will see it as a cop-out. (I see it as a cop-out.) But's it's kind of true. Basically, God's smarter than us. He knows stuff we not only don't know, but couldn't possibly understand. (See Dufflepud Theology.) So the question you have to ask yourself is this: if there was a God who has characteristics 1-4, and if he had a good reason to allow evil and suffering on the scale that it exists in our world, would we be likely to know or understand that reason? Is it possible that God has a very good reason to allow intense suffering right from day one (or rather, from day five) of his creation? Is it possible that God could look down on the animals he had created and see them suffering and in anguish and call it good? Is it possible that he has a reason for creating this brutal system that is utterly unfathomable to us? Yes, it's possible. Is it likely? Who knows? I'm not sure that you could make an educated guess at this, or even assign a rough probability. Maybe it's just a "are you the kind of person" type of question. Are you the kind of person who believes that there is a God who has his own incomprehensible reasons for allowing suffering (aside from the fall), or are you the kind of person who believes that there is no God? Or do you see another option?

[+/-] Psalm 23 (JHV)

I believe in a God who shepherds me, I want many things, but have never yet been in need.
These things I attribute to his leading: that at times I have experienced green pastures,
quiet waters,
and feelings of restoration.
Likewise, I accredit my righteousness to his guidance
though I do not understand his motives.
Even though I experience
times of darkness,
I have little fear,
for I trust that you have not abandoned me;
Your rod and your staff,
I suppose to be the source of my comfort.

If nothing else, I am sustained
though I have no enemies that I know of.
I am conscious of no anointing;
my cup, at the least, in never empty.
Perhaps this manner of existence will continue
all the days of my life,
and I hope someday to dwell in the house of the LORD
forever.

[+/-] Psalm 119:105-112 (JHV)

N

I have chosen my path according to what I believe to be your words
yet often the light grows dim.
I have taken an oath and confirmed it many times,
that I will pursue righteousness.
I have suffered (it's hard to say how much);
preserve my salvation, O LORD, according to the common interpretation of Biblical promises.
Accept, O LORD, the willing (if imperfect) praise of my mouth,
and teach me to interpret and apply your laws.
Though I may decide to take my life in my hands,
I will keep in mind the laws of this book.
The world distracts and confuses me,
but I am learning the wisdom of it's precepts.
It's statutes have been my foundation, and I hope they always will be;
though I don't believe they have ever brought me joy.
I truly want to keep your decrees
whatever the result may be.

[+/-] Fog

I'm in a dark place. Dark? No. More... foggy. Or misty, maybe, which is not precisely the same thing. I can see the scene now. It's early morning. There is no sun - perhaps it hasn't yet risen, or perhaps it's completely obscured by the clouds. The fog (or mist) is around me, and I can see no more than twenty feet in any direction. Twenty feet is the radius of my world. The ground is grey, and my feet make no sound as I walk. A tree appears - branches, then trunk, then more branches. It is leafless and black, as if it has been burnt. It disappears again, and I wonder if it still exists. There are no sounds.

The fog seems to choke sound. If this were a movie, there would be music playing, and the music would tell me the mood of the scene - heroic, forbidding, serene, tense? But of course there is no music, and the ambiguity is unsettling. I wonder if the fog (it's a fog, I've decided) will lift, or if I will come across a building, or a person. I wonder if I should have stayed by the tree.

I suppose I am lost. I cannot see what is ahead of me; I cannot recall what is behind. That is the nature of a fog. It's not my fault: being lost. Anyone could get lost in a fog like this. Or maybe it is my fault. I'm not certain - I can't seem to remember how I got here. I wish I had stayed by the tree.

I can see my breath, so it must be cold. I don't remember seeing it before. It seems to me that there is fog coming from my lungs. I resent this - fog ought not to be inside me. My circle of vision seems to be shrinking. How far now? Twelve feet? Ten? What if the fog keeps closing in until I can't see my feet? How will I know if I'm still moving? For that matter, how do I know I'm not simply walking deeper into the fog? Why am I walking this in this direction? I can't seem to remember anything. I was walking... I was... searching? Why would I go looking for something in this fog? I don't even remember what it was. ...A tree, maybe? That's the only word I can remember, but it doesn't seem to fit. Maybe I was coming from a tree.

I hate this fog. It blinds me, it suffocates me, it gets in my brain. I want to see things. I've seen things before, I'm sure. It's not right that I should be lost, and unable to see. I try to remember things I've seen. My hands? But I see them now. Surely there is more to see. ...The ground? No, no. The ground is grey and unchanging. Real things aren't grey. (Though what real things might be, if not grey, I do not know.) What else? A... tree? Yes. I've seen a tree. But what is "tree"? Just a word - what does it signify? Is it a real object (like my hand, for example, which is a real object) or is it just a fantasy word? I try to think what a tree would look like, if ever I had seen one. A tree is like... a hand. But what nonsense! I've obviously made it up, I can see now. There are no trees, only hands (my hands). If there were real objects - other objects - they would be unimaginable and different. They would not be like hands. There is no such thing as a tree.

No such thing as a tree? Then what is there such a thing as? Why do I exist, if there is nothing else? Why am I in this fog? Why do I have this body, with it's hands, and it's... it's legs that move beneath me, stretching down, down into the fog? Is the whole world only my body - ever fading, ever shrinking, only the hands to be seen clearly, if I lift them up close? There must be more. There must be... but... but what did I call them? Trees. There must be trees. Oh, I wish it were true! I want to believe in trees.

I'm just not sure if I can.