I have been plagued by an inability to regularly access the World Wide Web. Perhaps "plagued" is too strong--my regular access has been hampered.
At the moment, I am living on dial-up. (After more than three years of full-speed broadband as my regular mode of access, I am browsing at a bandwidth-rate that feels more like crawling.) This isn't due to significant problems--it's partly an opportunity, partly a challenge. It is mostly the fruit of me volunteering my free time to house-sit for a friend who is much less interested in high-bandwidth connections to the digital world.
However, I've also been involved a series of events that have played a curious role in my life. As part of relocating back to the region I grew up in, I've ended up re-connecting with many old acquaintances and friends. Many of these friends are from the religious organizations that I'd always been a part of--my religious family, so to speak.
This has brought several thoughts to my mind, one of which is this: I know that my beliefs affect the way I think and write. Yet I rarely spend time elucidating them.
Even more curious, my background should make me the opposite. When I compare my pattern with those in my spiritual family, I find that I am the least loquacious of them about my faith. Of course, the pattern of thought I generally see involves an implicit assumption (and often explicit statements) that a Divine Hand directs and guides many of the small coincidences and significant events in each person's life.
I could easily try to outline my own understanding of this concept--but I feel a desire to begin at the beginning, rather than at the end, where my thoughts and actions are. I might even find that my thoughts and actions are more the result of habit than of careful thinking.
To begin with, I am well aware of the existence of atheism. When a man says he does not believe in the existence of any deity, I disagree with him there. It's not a guarantee that I'll disagree with him on everthing. What I think of as the distinguising trait of atheist thought is what I am tempted to call the mythology of belief in non-belief.
Why would I not call it a mythology? It contains a simple story about things the myth-makers thought were truly important. It contains villains and heros, and it probably beigns with an idyllic perfect past. If it does not, it still claims that the present state of the world contains many bad things, the results of the nefarious deeds of the villain(s) and his (their) accomplices and dupes. The mythology also contains a promise of a perfect future--or at least an improved future, where non-religious thought runs unimpeded, discovering great Truths about the Universe and Man.
This shows something that I discovered a long time ago--every system of belief (or non-belief) in religious things includes reference to some form of this mythology. I have given the general outline of most complete mythologies. Not all believers have such a complete mythology, although almost all will, when pressed, eventually reconstruct something like this.
I have also long known that pure logic cannot work without reference to some fundamental, non-deduced truths.
Steven den Beste, one of the better bloggers I've ever read (incidentally, also an
atheist) wrote about this back when he was writing the blog
U.S.S. Clueless. He wrote a significant article about to
inductive logic, the method by which the human mind makes large leaps of intuition about the whole Universe using a small slice of it--a selection of all experience and learning acquired thus far--as raw material.
Upon reading this, I agreed with den Beste on at least one thing. Religious belief (or doubt, or non-belief) begins with a choice of what sources to trust. This choice is usually the result of inductive logic. We can use logic to help us in this quest--I could mention at least one religious document which I have never trusted the validity of; this doubt is because the historical section of the document is riddled with historical errors. However, when trying to decide the existence (or non-existence) of immaterial Powers and Beings which are the nature of belief, the discussion always devolves into which source is considered trustworthy, and why it is considered trustworthy.
So what is the foundation of what I believe? What do I intuit that then becomes a basis for deduction, or more intuition? (Any readers who are familiar with
G.K. Chesterton or
C.S. Lewis may recognise some of my thoughts. However, they are not my only source.)
I begin with another reference to the plethora of mythologies in human history. From the first time that humans put paint on a rock wall and the first inscriptions of symbols for words on rock, humans have always been expressing mythology. Further, mythology has always been full of spiritual beings, magical powers, gods, demi-gods, and demons. It is the kind of thing that men believe in without outside interference--or perhaps with it. If a person tries to withhold forming an opinion until all the evidence is in, they may find that they have no idea whether or not extra-natural Powers have been seeding human consciousness with mythological ideas since before recorded history. The evidence would look the same to us whether they did so or not.
Next, it seems that most mythologies follow a history--they are begun by a mythographer and/or mystic, they grow, they accrete additions onto themselves, and they eventually die--whether by neglect or by famine, pestilence, and war, mythologies die.
A simplistic view of history might presume that many mythologies tend to evolve towards some form of monotheism. Yet this tends to ignore the many lifes and deaths of mythology that predated modern monotheism--and the one seemingly undying theology that has held an obscure race together through thick and thin.
A family of desert tribes had long been cemented together around a monotheistic faith. Their common culture became a foudation for conquest; later, their ancient nation flourished and died. This belief survived several waves of deportation, massacre, persecution, and diaspora. Between these waves, it occasionally received protection. More often, it was ignored. It stood outside the various polytheisms which were established by imperial powers.
Later, this system of faith suffered grievous bouts of hostility with one of its own offshoots--a family of faith that had, paradoxically, become much larger and more successful.
Yes, the mythology of Jews has this as a point of uniqueness--it is the longest-lasting mythology that I have ever heard of. Comparing it with the mythologies of the great empires of its day, I can see little reason that this mythology survived. It was distinct from them in some ways, but similar in so many others.
The survival could have been an accident of history. It could have been because this mythology contained a better answer to the problems of man than the other mythologies of its time. It could have been a particular stubbornness of the culture spawned by the mythology.
Or it could have been because the mythology contained deep truths about man and the Universe--truths which not all liked to learn, but that at least some were glad to hear. Truths that many cultures tried to hide from, or at least distort to make their way of life easier to live with. Truths that brought man into closer relation to the immaterial, super-natural Being who had made him.
I don't claim that the historical evidence proves this. I do submit that this history of mythology needs a little explanation. It doesn't make sense--though not all of history does--but there is no obvious reason why it happened. And the answer to the question of why is tightly bound to the answer to the question, "Do I believe this mythology to contain Truth?"
I dare not take this post too much further tonight. I merely stop at this point, and invite the reader to return later, if they so wish.