Tuesday, May 3, 2011

The New York Times and Pure Reason

Columnist David Brooks explores the question of why some religions are beneficial, generally bringing help to humanity, and other religions are useless or even damaging to the civilizations on this planet. He notes that

Many Americans have always admired the style of belief that is spiritual but not doctrinal, pluralistic and not exclusive, which offers tools for serving the greater good but is not marred by intolerant theological judgments.

He captures here a sentiment which characterizes some segment of our society. It seems to offer exactly those benefits one would hope to gain from a religion. But such religions eventually disappoint. What at first appears to promise a chance to harness civilization’s energies toward noble purposes turns out to be finally impotent, unable to organize the hoped-for charitable impulses. Or, even worse, it reveals itself to be blinding, rendering its adherents unable to perceive more nuanced moral realities.

Vague, uplifting, nondoctrinal religiosity doesn’t actually last. The religions that grow, succor and motivate people to perform heroic acts of service are usually theologically rigorous, arduous in practice and definite in their convictions about what is True and False.

Brooks refers to the latter set of religions, those which benefit mankind, as those with “rigorous theology”:

Rigorous theology provides believers with a map of reality. These maps may seem dry and schematic — most maps do compared with reality — but they contain the accumulated wisdom of thousands of co-believers who through the centuries have faced similar journeys and trials.

Rigorous theology allows believers to examine the world intellectually as well as emotionally. Many people want to understand the eternal logic of the universe, using reason and logic to wrestle with concrete assertions and teachings.

Rigorous theology helps people avoid mindless conformity. Without timeless rules, we all have a tendency to be swept up in the temper of the moment. But tough-minded theologies are countercultural. They insist on principles and practices that provide an antidote to mere fashion.

Rigorous theology delves into mysteries in ways that are beyond most of us. For example, in her essay, “Creed or Chaos,” Dorothy Sayers argues that Christianity’s advantage is that it gives value to evil and suffering. Christianity asserts that “perfection is attained through the active and positive effort to wrench real good out of a real evil.” This is a complicated thought most of us could not come up with (let alone unpack) outside of a rigorous theological tradition.

There is a slight confusion between religion and theology here: the two words are not synonyms. Overlooking that, Brooks here offers a fourfold definition: a belief which is systematic, rational, supra-contextual, and which approaches mysteries. Systematic beliefs can be codified in texts, which makes them publicly and objectively accessible. Rational beliefs respect the structures of the universe and of the human mind, and assess various explanations in light of these. Such beliefs provide a breakwater against the tides of conformity which sweep through societies on a regular basis. And such beliefs admit that there is possibly a limit to the powers of human reason, which means that being rational is being willing to admit the possibility of mystery.

Although religion is not morality - atheists can be very moral - there is some connection between religion and morality. Brooks notes this connection:

Rigorous codes of conduct allow people to build their character. Changes in behavior change the mind, so small acts of ritual reinforce networks in the brain. A Mormon denying herself coffee may seem like a silly thing, but regular acts of discipline can lay the foundation for extraordinary acts of self-control when it counts the most.

History will force us eventually to judge the net contributions of various religions. Some will have given benefits to the human race; others will have given misery. Just as no human being is morally pure - we all commit both good and bad actions - so no religion will be found pure. Even the best religions will have committed some evil, and even the worst religions will have given some benefit. No religion is perfectly evil, just as God is perfectly good. To judge a religion, therefore, is not to judge people, nor is it to judge God. We will find, in the end, that just as all humans are equal, not all religions are equal.