Among many philosophers today, religious fundamentalism is seen as an easy target. Dawkins, for example, has been criticised for focusing too much on 'extreme' forms of religion in his critique of faith in the God Delusion. Those who do so, mean to imply that there are more sophisticated faith positions, other attitudes to scriptures more worthy of discussion. I think they are right, though I understand why Dawkins feels that the simpler hardline literalist needs to be tackled, especially as it seems (to me) that such attitudes are too widespread to be ignored, and those who espouse them are increasingly politically active. Meanwhile, it seems, more moderate traditions, and more 'educated' strands of faith are dwindling in influence. If every man of faith were as erudite, subtle and thoughtful as the Archbishop of Canterbury, I doubt that atheists would have much to grumble about. The charming 'debate' between Dawkins and Rowan Williams I think is an ample illustration of this - (if you are interested in the conflict between religion and science on the nature of life, I recommend taking the time to watch it).
However, I am of the opinion that many of these 'non-extremist' defenders of religion do not go far enough. Whilst seeking to distinguish themselves from the 'unsophisticates' lampooned by the atheists - nonetheless they are often, in my view, too conservative and too attached to a certain kind of idolization of the 'word'. I will attempt to argue for the value of a more liberal approach, and that these conservative views are defending a primitive or inferior view of revelation.
Although the word 'fundamentalism' has slightly more precise sociological connotations due to its history in terms of defending certain threatened/unfashionable beliefs, nonetheless for the purposes of this essay I shall define 'fundamentalism' as a kind of absolutism about biblical authority: - the belief that all scripture is inerrant.
My argument is not simply that fundamentalism is wrong because they set too much store in the idea of revelation. Rather, it is that by arguing for the inerrancy of scripture (often by circularly referencing St. Paul's letter to Timothy and the claim that all scripture is 'God-breathed'), they have undermined the notion of revelation. Fundamentalism has done more damage to the idea of revelation than any of the simplistic atheistic arguments that the Bible is self-contradictory or contrary to evidence. I don't wish to explore these attacks on scripture in this essay, but they are much debated elsewhere (e.g. here, and here). A subtler notion of revelation could survive these challenges without much difficulty; and without any need for the theological contortions, justifications and mysteries that abound in defending biblical views.
The heart of the problem is in arguing for an idea of revelation that is so authoritarian, so dependent on the idea that it is God that is the author and not the actual human author. As a result, the idea of revelation has been distanced from ordinary human experience. We find it hard to relate to the claims of Muhammad or Paul because most people (I am fairly sure) do not claim to hear such a clear voice of 'truth from above'. An external personage speaking or dictating facts in this way is simply not something that many can conceive or support with any confidence. We all have a kind of internal dialogue; we have the ability to reflect on ideas deeply from different perspectives, conducting a kind of inner dialectic in search of that which is most wise and true. However, those who do hear such 'externalised' voices might be more likely to question their mental health (or spiritual health, perhaps) rather than assume a communication channel has been established with the divine and infinite source of being.
My contention is that their notion of revelation has become too divorced from the concept of wisdom. A more liberal understanding of revelation as 'insight' is preferable, or even 'inspiration' - a word that is often used by fundamentalists, but only in some context that is far removed from our ordinary experience of feeling 'inspired'. For this reason, many modern Westerners feel more comfortable seeking ideas from 'Eastern' scriptures that make smaller claims for their truth, rather than having to engage more passively with a text that claims to be an absolute dictator of truth. We feel more encouraged to explore these scriptures as ideas we can relate to, criticize, respond to, and apply as we see fit, rather than having to accept or reject in some black-and-white, all-or-nothing kind of way. As a result, we are likely to get much more out of them by studying them in this way. What is wrong with selecting ideas that are appropriate for our contexts, considering the value and wisdom contained in these phrases and viewpoints? Highlighting that which is good and useful, regardless of the apparent imperfections of the texts taken as a whole, just seems much more practical. If we felt more able to do this with Abrahamic texts, then the value of Amos's experiences and ideas, or John's or Peter's might be considered afresh, rather than rejected out of hand for containing other passages supporting slavery or genocide or condemning homosexuality.
Of course, once we accept this 'downgrading' of revelation, we destroy the line between 'scripture' and other 'literature'. However, I think this is a good thing. My hope is that people will also 'upgrade' their approach to other writing. Obviously there is a lot of 'trashy' literature out there: there is the tedious and the uninspiring, and there is also writing that may actually be harmful. Rather than enlightening us, some human texts are expressions of ignorance, hatred, and crass materialism. Indeed, some of those with the greatest potential for harm, I believe, are found in amongst these collections of scripture.
We should approach all literature with an openness to the idea that we may be sharing in someone else's wisdom - that they may have had a 'stroke of genius' or a 'touch of inspiration'. I personally have had a Christian upbringing, and feel I have learned a lot from the teachings of Jesus. But I don't think his purported sayings in the Gospels have to be accepted en masse without criticism. I have also learned a lot about life, humanity, morality and reality from reading Buddhist suttas, Shakespeare's plays, Louis de Bernieres' novels, Steven Pinker's explanations of scientific theories, Keats' poems, to name but a few. Every time I read a good philosophical work, I am engaging with something that could potentially enhance my experience and understanding of the world. Equally, however, we must approach any text with a critical mind, recognizing that they may be passing their own negativity, misery, false beliefs and malicious propaganda onto others. The more that such an attitude -(evaluative, open-minded but critically engaged)- can be fostered amongst everyone, the better.
This puts me in mind of the ‘wise bee’, a metaphor often used by the Fathers of the Church. The Bee moves from flower to flower removing pollen to use in its production of honey. The bee does not simply flit from flower to flower ‘selecting’ pollen, as one might select ‘ideas’. The bee works diligently and with purpose
ReplyDelete‘the bee pierces to the very depths of the flower's calix diligently, adroitly, and so delicately, that once its precious treasure has been gathered, it gently leaves the flowers without having injured in the least the light texture of their garments or caused a single one of their petals the loss of its immaculate freshness’.
(Pius XII)
Quite unlike the fickle butterfly, which without purpose or effort meanders, moving from flower to flower, selecting from here or there! Relativist values too often dictate the ‘flowers’ that should be collected from, very often overlooking the fact that the ones we are consistently drawn too, very often, as with bees and pollen, provide us with the best nutrients. We shouldn’t simply overlook biblical texts as obsolete or outdated, or be drawn to seemingly more attractive, or innovative texts.
Certain texts have withstood the test of time and yet we are still drawn to them over and over again. John Paul II imitates Christ’s call to the Pharisees to return to the ‘beginning’ in his prolific work ‘The Theology of the Body’. This call to return is with the hope we will discover an adequate anthropology and most of all an understanding of ourselves and others. Many literary works come and go and on many counts are shaped by a type of literary evolution. Some works out live others and there has to be reason for this. Why is it the Genesis account of creation is very much a part of our literary/religious tradition and yet the Enuma Elish isn’t? Could it be that it holds some deep and wonderful truth that has to be extracted ‘diligently and adroitly’? The truth is maybe, that we will never find the truth, as we are too busy flitting from flower to flower to ever experience it. There does seem to be something a little unwise with ‘selecting appropriate ideas’ as we see fit and as St Teresa of Avila suggests, if we spend our time flying from flower to flower ‘ there will not be much chance of making honey!’