I. Introduction: A Liberal Theologian Turned Secular Humanist
Lloyd Geering, the well-known New Zealand
theologian, makes the controversial claim that Christianity can do without God.
Although he started as a liberal theologian, the position he ends up with is
theological non-realism, i.e., the word ‘God’ does not refer to any external
reality; but is merely a symbol for the highest human values: ‘It is wrong to use the word God to name a supposed metaphysical being. …
the word God … is a symbol of the very essence of humanity, coupled with what
humans deem to be the essence of the physical world’ (TG, p. 225). [1]
His heroes are Spinoza, Schleiermacher and Feuerbach, his companions are
radical theologians like Don
Cupitt.
If Geering does not believe in the traditional God, then what does he
believe in? Naturalism, it seems. Apart from his occasional use of religious
symbols, Geering’s belief system is hardly different from contemporary secular
humanism. For him, the universe is the self-explanatory Ultimate: ‘The
universe… can be explained only from within... The universe explains itself by
its own story’ (TG, p. 178).
He has only contempt for the opponents of evolution: ‘the simplest
and most adequate explanation of the origin of planetary life is that the
earth, like the universe, contained the potential for life within itself at the
time of its formation…. [I]t is quite appropriate for us to think of the earth
as alive, as a living planet… Moreover we humans, like all other creatures, are
a part of this living planet’ (TG, p. 180). Geering expands the scientific theory of
evolution into a new religion of ecology. For him, the traditional religions
are gone for ever. Establishing parameters for the new global and ecological
culture and creating forms of spirituality most appropriate to it are the
genuinely ‘religious’ issues to which we must ‘devote’ ourselves (CWG, p. 142).
Geering therefore argues for the slogan ‘Christianity
without God.’ While this may sound like an outright contradiction, he maintains
that upholding values inherited from the Christian past can be regarded as
‘Christianity without God’ (CWG, p. 143). Traditional religious understandings
and practices have to be transformed; belief in Christ as the Saviour has to
go, while Jesus as the sage who leads us on the path to freedom can be
retained, as can rituals and festivals celebrating human values (CWG, pp. 144-45).
The larger context for this is the problem
of globalization, how, that is, humankind must learn to live together in harmony and
mutual responsibility. To achieve this, we need a vision of a global culture to serve as the foundation of a
global society. The global culture Geering favours is secular humanism, with
its values of equality and freedom (WTC, pp. 119-20). Its basic principle is
secularism. He writes: ‘the former rigid
dividing line between matter and spirit has been eliminated; in the global
world reality is experienced as psycho-physical in that the more obviously
physical earth has the capacity to bring forth first life and then thought.
This monistic or one-worldly character of the global world is the reason for
calling it secular… the raw material for our common construction of the global
world is secular knowledge’ (TG, p. 193).
Geering’s writings have many merits. He
writes lucidly, and courageously draws out the conclusions implicit in his
approach. He is honest about difficulties confronting Christianity, both
sociological and philosophical. However, in this essay I beg to differ from
Geering’s conclusion. In particular I seek to critique his theological
non-realism, the foundation of which is projectionism.
II. Geering’s Case for Projectionism
It is not always easy to ascertain what
Geering’s arguments exactly are. However, in the whole corpus of his work he
repeatedly raises some crucial points. Though these are often put forward by
implication rather than explicit argument, Geering’s case can reasonably be
constructed from them. I suggest this case is constituted by one main argument
(Feuerbach’s projectionism) and eight supporting arguments, which include
feminist and ecological critiques of theism. Of these supporting arguments, I
examine here only that from global anti-realism.
(i)
Main argument: Feuerbach’s projectionism
Geering’s basic strategy is to tell a
naturalistic history of religion which assumes projectionism, drawing
inspiration mainly from Feuerbach. Repeatedly explaining away gods as human
projections, Geering leaves his readers with the impression that projectionism
is the whole truth about religion. He asserts that the gods in ancient myths ‘were
wholly the product of creative human imagination’ (TG, p. 35). Why? Because
myths reflect the human search for immortality. Moreover, ‘human imagination
had (unconsciously) created the gods as a way of understanding natural
phenomena and ordering the environment’ (TG, p. 35). Stories about gods
also personalized reality, making it appear more friendly to humans.
Human imagination
creates the gods by projection. ‘[T]he ancients projected their subjective experience on
to their environment. …They simply encountered their environment with awe
because of its mysterious movement. … In time the vaguely defined ‘Thouness’ of
their world was divided into specific areas and given particular names
appropriate to the function each was believed to perform. … to them it seemed
self-evident that all natural events, such as storms were caused by personal
wills’ (TG, p. 133-34).
Geering adopts a
similar explanation for revelatory religious experiences: ‘What has been
claimed as revelation from a divine source of knowledge is in fact the product
of human creativity, stretching back over a very long time and involving
countless people’ (WTC, p. 80). Though the religious believer is not aware
his own psyche is so creative, we now know the true source of the alleged
revelations. The resulting ‘loss of divine revelation’ in turn deprives
each religious tradition of its firm foundation.
One of Geering’s mentors is Feuerbach,
famous for turning theology into anthropology. Following Feuerbach, Geering
claims that ‘God had been invented, out of the necessity to find meaning.’
Just as in ancient polytheism, ‘‘God’ is … a symbolic word. It has no
external referent which is open to public confirmation. … The word ‘God’ has a
function, but no content or meaning except that which we supply…The content
with which we invest it is the set of values and aspirations which we
(subjectively) find laying a claim upon us’ (TG, pp. 144-45).
Geering extends this anti-realism to all
religious language: ‘Heaven and hell symbolized the issues of ultimate
personal destiny…The Last Judgment symbolized the issues at stake in every
decision we make, great or small. The Christ figure symbolized our need to be
saved from the worst we can do to ourselves’ (TG, pp. 152-53). To deny the symbolic
status of religious language, by adopting, say, a rationalistic or realistic
approach, leads to idolatry. Thus
Geering implies it is he, not his critics, who understands ‘true Christianity’.
Again following Feuerbach,
Geering claims his ‘Christianity without God’ can be established on the basis
of Christianity’s central doctrine - incarnation. Traditional realist
interpretation, creating a gulf between an ‘other-world’ and this world by its
dualistic worldview, ‘had the devastating effect of throwing the human
condition into disunion with itself, and of destroying forever the possibility
of improving human existence on earth. Humans became alienated from their
higher selves.’ In contrast, Geering’s projectionism, by revealing the
hidden meaning of the myth of incarnation, ‘bridged that gulf, enabling the
human condition to be restored to its intended wholeness … True Christianity …
affirms that there is only one life for us humans; … restored to us the
capability and responsibility to manifest divinity by the way we love and
respond to one another’ (TG, p.
232).
Making further use of Feuerbach, Geering
emphasizes that ‘divinity’ cannot be embodied exclusively in one individual.
Only humans in community, the unity of I and thou, is God (TG, p. 233).
(ii) Supporting argument: Thoroughgoing
anti-realism (constructivism)
Geering’s
thought has diverse elements, which may not sit well together. Sometimes he
sounds like an Enlightenment rationalist. At other times, heavily influenced by
Cupitt, he dons the dress of a postmodern relativist and anti-realist. If,
however, global anti-realism is true, theological anti-realism is just a
special case of it.
He appeals to Einstein’s theory of
relativity as a scientific illustration of a wider principle: ‘all our
knowledge is relative to the human mind that produced it. We humans have
evolved in a symbiotic relationship with the culture created by the countless
generations before us’ (WTC, p. 74). For him therefore cultural relativism
is inescapable: ‘No human culture provides the norm to which all cultures should
conform. All human cultures are relative’ (WTC, p. 77). He also endorses
Driver’s claim that ‘Christocentrism cannot make sense in the Einsteinian
universe, which has no centre and in which every structure is a dynamic
relationality of moving parts….The ethical theological task of the churches
today is to find a Christology which can be liberating in a world of relativity’
(WTC, p. 81). In such a world, apparently, absolutist theologies have to go.
They are not only untenable, but also unethical, because ‘[a]ny religious
tradition claiming to be the absolute truth in a universe so marked by
relativity leads not to the salvation of humankind but to its enslavement’
(WTC, p. 81).
As an implication
of global relativism and constructivism, all systems of morality and religious
symbols are human-created. Geering is particularly fond of using three words:
‘of human origin.’ ‘All religious traditions are of human origin… Just as
there is … no one morality which is the norm for all other moralities, so there
is no one religion which is the norm for all others. None…is absolute and
final, and those which claim to be must surrender those claims if they
are to continue’ (WTC, p. 81; emphasis mine).
Sometimes
Geering arrives at global anti-realism through the path of a constructivist
understanding of language. Every ‘world’ is constituted by language inescapably
of human construction. He cites Cupitt: ‘Language is the medium in which we
live and move and have our being. In it we act, we structure the world and order
every aspect of our social life. Only language stands between us and the Void.’
Geering concludes, ‘We live in a world of language yet language is a human
creation…. [This] world in which we live is one which humans, as a species,
have created’ (TG, p. 25).
Concepts like truth, meaning, and purpose
are created by humans. ‘[T]he coherent whole which the word ‘world’
implies…exists primarily in the mind. …The world we create and perceive is
never free of subjectivism’ (TG, p. 43). Therefore all religious documents
like the Bible, and religious concepts like ‘God’, are human products,
contingent on language: ‘Language, God and the human species can never be
divorced from one another’ (TG, p. 26).
Geering also incorporates this global anti-realism into his vision of
global culture: ‘There is no permanent fixed point from which we can view
reality. …It can never be more than a human construction of the presumed
objective universe, based on our ever-developing body of objective knowledge’
(TG, pp. 194-45).
III.
Choices for Christians
Geering’s
honesty in exploring difficulties with traditional Christian theism is
commendable. However, he seems to suggest there are only two options: either
follow him on the path of projectionism and anti-realism, or be condemned as an
unreflective and ignorant conservative. ‘In relation to the intellectual
climate of society at large, the churches have become increasingly conservative
and defensive of their identity. As the churches grow smaller and more
conservative, we find in them the last remnants of the Christian world… like
islands of the past in the fast-flowing tide of secularization which is giving
rise to the new global world’ (TG, p. 173).
Is there
really no other way? I suggest the path of critical faith is still available.
Numerous theologians have already explored the difficulties of Christian faith
in the modern era, yet conclude that faith is still possible.[2]
More than thirty years ago, Peter Berger,
the well-known sociologist of religion and secularization theorist, dealt with
the problem posed by secularization to theology. In Á Rumour of Angels[3]
he stated bluntly: ‘the supernatural has departed from the modern world… God
is dead … it may be undramatically assumed as a global and probably
irreversible trend.’[4]
However, while both he and Geering take seriously the theological crisis
ensuing from secularization, they provide different analyses and recommend
different solutions. Berger regarded ‘solutions’ like Geering’s as bizarre. ‘The
self-liquidation of the theological enterprise is undertaken with an enthusiasm
that verges on the bizarre, culminating in the reduction to absurdity of the “God-is-dead
theology” and “Christian atheism.” ’ [5]
For Berger, the fundamental options
available to religion in a secular world are either to hold on to or to
surrender cognitive deviance. Maintaining a supernaturalist position in a
cognitively antagonistic world is not easy. Yet its surrender entails that ‘[m]odernity
is swallowed hook, line, and sinker, and the … traditional religious
affirmations are translated into terms appropriate to the new frame of
reference, the one that allegedly conforms to the weltanschauung of modernity.’[6]
Consequently ‘the supernatural elements of the religious traditions are more
or less completely liquidated.’[7]
Berger sharply points out the resulting problems.
Firstly, it requires intellectual
contortion. ‘The various forms of secularized theology… propose various
practical pay-offs…[but]these benefits are also available under strictly
secular label. A secularized Christianity has to go to considerable exertion to
demonstrate that the religious label, as modified in conformity with the spirit
of the age, has anything special to offer.’[8]
This option’s appeal will therefore probably be limited to people with
nostalgia for traditional symbols - exactly the group which, influenced by
secularizing theologians, is steadily dwindling. ‘For most people, symbols
whose content has been hollowed out lack conviction or even interest.’[9] This analysis seems to fit the ‘theology’
Geering proposes. He makes gigantic efforts to argue for a ‘Christianity
without God.’ Yet why should people sharing Geering’s worldview prefer this
self-description to saying plainly they are atheists who reject Christianity?
Berger is aware religious groups can adopt
a strategy of bargaining with modern thought, surrendering some traditional
items while keeping others: the classical pattern of Protestant theological
liberalism. Its main problem is its built-in escalation towards the pole of
cognitive surrender: ‘cognitive bargaining… subjects oneself to mutual
cognitive contamination. The crucial question then is, who is the stronger
party? ...he who sups with the devil had better have a long spoon. The devilry
of modernity has its own magic: the theologian who sups with it will find his
spoon getting shorter and shorter – until that last supper in which he is left
alone at the table, with no spoon at all and with an empty plate. The devil…
will by then have gone away to more interesting company.’[10]
Secondly, the attempt to make the Faith
relevant to modernity is inherently unstable: ‘a man who marries the spirit
of the age soon finds himself a widower. …[In] 1965 Harvey Cox in the Secular
City invited us to celebrate the advent of modern urbanism as if it were some
sort of divine revelation. Only a few years later it is difficult to rouse much
enthusiasm for this particular bit of ‘timely’ wisdom.’[11]
Cox himself has completely turned around in recent years, talking about
secularization as a myth.[12]
Berger writes: ‘Our pluralistic culture
forces those who would ‘update’ Christianity into a state of permanent
nervousness. The ‘wisdom of the world,’ which is the standard by which they
would modify the religious tradition, varies from one social location to
another;…even in the same locale it keeps on changing..... Perhaps, for some
individuals who have been chasing the Zeitgeist in this manner for a while, ‘folly’
begins to seem like not such an unattractive option’.[13]
Thirdly, the
surrender option largely assumes that complete secularization is inevitable.
Even several decades ago Berger then
concluded that ‘significant enclaves of supernaturalism within the
secularized culture will also continue.’[14]
He acknowledges now that the only places where the secularization thesis holds
true are Europe and the academy, and ‘the rest of the world is as furiously
religious as ever, and possibly more so’[15]
and that his secularization theory was mistaken.[16]
While Geering acknowledges the continued
existence of conservative Christians, he tends to write them off. In contrast,
Berger knows that ‘it is possible to go some way in asking questions of
truth while disregarding the spirit of an age…. Genuine timeliness means…an
ultimate indifference to the majority or minority status of one’s view of the
world.’[17]
Berger’s call to return to the question of truth is not the result of a refusal
to use the modern relativising approach and the hermeneutics of suspicion. (He
is after all one of the major theorists of secularization and sociology of
knowledge.) Rather, he thinks their consistent use will in the end force us to
face the question of truth.
Berger admits the relativising effect of
the sociological perspective, constituting the ‘fiery brook’ (feuerbach in
German) through which theologians must pass. Historical scholarship has led to
a perspective in which even the most sacrosanct elements of religious
traditions come to be seen as human product, and ‘psychology after
Freud suggested that religion was a gigantic projection of human needs and
desires…Thus history and psychology together plunged theology into a veritable
vortex of relativizations.’[18]
Moreover, there is the challenge of the sociology of knowledge, which goes to
the social roots of all truth claims. The fundamental idea is that our
‘knowledge’ depends upon the social support it receives, its plausibility
structure, consisting of a variety of social networks or conversational
fabrics, systematized explanations, and legitimations.
‘The community of faith is now
understandable as a constructed entity – ... Conversely, it can be dismantled
or reconstructed by use of the same mechanisms.’[19]
So far Berger sounds like another and earlier Geering. However, Berger takes a
surprising turn. ‘[T]here are unexpected redeeming features to the
sociologist’s dismal revelations’ When we are willing to see the relativity
business through to its very end, ‘the question of truth reasserts itself in
almost pristine simplicity. Once we know that all human affirmations are
subject to scientifically graspable socio-historical processes, which
affirmations are true and which are false? We cannot avoid the question any
more than we can return to the innocence of its pre-relativizing asking.’ [20]
The problem with ‘secular’ theology, which
takes as its ultimate criterion the alleged consciousness of modern man, is
that there is a hidden double standard: ‘the past, out of which the
tradition comes, is relativized ... The present, however, remains strangely
immune from relativization. …the New Testament writers are seen as afflicted
with a false consciousness rooted in their time, but the contemporary analyst
takes the consciousness of his time as an unmixed intellectual blessing. The
electricity and radio-users are placed intellectually above the Apostle Paul.
This is rather funny … [and] an extraordinarily one-sided way of looking
at things... The world view of the New Testament writers was constructed and
maintained by the same kind of social processes that construct and maintain the
world view of contemporary ‘radical’ theologians. Each has its appropriate
plausibility structure… [T]he appeal to any alleged modern consciousness loses
most of its persuasiveness.’ Therefore the modern world should not be
elevated to an absolute. ‘[R]elativizing analysis, in being pushed to its
final consequence, bends back upon itself. The relativizers are relativized,
the debunkers are debunked….What follows is … a new freedom and flexibility
in asking questions of truth.’[21]
For example, most plausibility structures
today are partial and therefore tenuous. Since the modern individual exists in
a plurality of worlds, migrating between competing plausibility structures, he
is naturally inclined towards constructivism. ‘The contemporary radio-user
is not inhibited in his capacity for faith by the scientific knowledge and
technology that produced his radio... But he is inhibited by the multiplicity
of ideas and notions about the world that his radio, along with other
communications media, plunges him into. And while we may understand… with his
predicament, there is no reason whatever to stand in awe of it. … [S]ociology
frees us from the tyranny of the present.….’ [22]
In the end, ‘[w]e
must begin in the situation in which we find ourselves, but we must not submit
to it as to an irresistible tyranny.’ [23]
This seems to me sound advice. Some may have been overwhelmed by Geering’s
grand narrative of secularization, the ‘demise’ of Christian orthodoxy, and the
emergence of global ‘secular’ culture. However, Berger helps us see Geering’s
narrative in a new light. By applying relativising strategies to that
narrative, we should regard it as a myth constructed by Geering. Why Geering
regards it as self-evident can be explained by analysing his plausibility
structures: the fragmented structure of modern society, the larger social ethos
which makes secularism look natural,
stories about the evils of theism which help to legitimize irreligion,
Geering’s significant others such as colleagues who belittle theism, and so
on.
If Geering’s
preference for modernity and naturalism is his own subjective choice, and
nothing more, why should others follow his radical theology? If however he
insists every myth in every era is nothing but construction - except his own -
then Berger’s charge of double standard can certainly be pressed against him.
Moreover, while Geering wants us to be free from enslavement to traditional
religions, will we only end up being enslaved by the tyranny of the present?
Geering may point to his arguments for his narrative in support of its truth.
Yet then the truth of theism should not be dismissed a priori either.
Interestingly, Geering and Berger both
begin as theological liberals but develop in different directions. Although
Berger remains a liberal, he increasingly recognizes the importance of robust
religious belief in contemporary society, and becomes increasingly critical of
secularization theory, modernity and the option of surrender. In A Far Glory
he again points out that wholesale surrender of faith, even from a tactical
viewpoint, is not wise. He is also worried that in the process of
accommodation, some precious truths may be lost. Berger even urges us to
uphold the ‘folly’ of the Christian Gospel: ‘If the Church gives up this ‘folly,’
it gives up itself and its very reason for being. ... the most precious truth
that has been entrusted to the Church's care- the truth about the redemption of
men through God's coming into the world in Christ’[24].
Berger asks, ‘Christians who consider
themselves ‘progressives,’ ... always tell us to ‘read the signs of the
times’... Has it never occurred to these people that they might write some of
these signs?’ [25]
One reason why Christians should not surrender to secular culture is that they
may have something to offer. For example, Berger thinks there is no secular
solution to the problem of the self. Indeed the naturalistic and secularist
worldview contributes to the process of the self’s disintegration:
It becomes ‘more and more
difficult to see the self as the center of the individual's actions. Instead, these actions come to be perceived
as events that happen to the individual, separate from himself, explainable in
terms of both external (social) and internal (organic and psychic) causes.’ [26]
In the end, the ground of true self may only be found
in transcendence:
‘…the social sciences do not
give much support to the notion of a self detached from roles and
attachments. Yet there remains the
irresistible conviction within…individuals that there is indeed such a self, a
conviction that surfaces most clearly in the area of moral judgments: Just
reflect on the consequences for our conception of human rights if the idea of
an autonomous self were abandoned. ... I am also inclined to think that the
idea of a self over and beyond all socializations can only be maintained in a
view of reality that includes transcendence.’ [27]
For Berger, if there is no God, there is no
permanent self-identity. Geering may not dispute this. He applies his
constructivism to personal identity also, but the difference is he celebrates
this kind of postmodern self: ‘People today are more reluctant to commit
themselves permanently to any form of association ... Taking life-long vows was
once regarded as highly virtuous. Now it may be seen as precarious and even
unethical: the person one is at the present moment may not have the moral right
to bind the person one has yet to become. We must remain open to what may come,
and free to respond to new circumstances’ (WTC, p. 86).
I suggest Geering’s
celebration of freedom is
premature. He does not realize the pernicious consequences of a fluid,
postmodern self. Suppose it is unethical for the
person one now is to bind the person one has yet to become. Then not only do marital vows become
meaningless, but parenting, trust between friends, holding people to their
promises, business contracts, and much else also become impossible. The whole
idea is self-defeating. Who can be said to be ‘unethical’ anyway? The self who is supposed to take the blame is
gone for ever! It is senseless to combine the postmodern self with the idea of
moral responsibility, which necessarily presupposes a permanent self.
Berger uses his sociological perspective to
expose the myth of the modern man, and to deprive modern consciousness of its
apparently superior cognitive status:
‘…theologians
have been trying to accommodate religion to the cognitive requirements of a
creature called ‘modern man,’ as if it were self-evident that this entity had
an enormous epistemological advantage over…the biblical authors or the Church
Fathers. In fact, modern man is not a
terribly inspiring figure; his much-vaunted rationality is often devoted to
projects of little value, and he is chronically insecure about everything,
including his own identity. The most
positive thing about him… is an unprecedented gift of freedom, and even that he
has frequently experienced as a burden to be shed as soon as possible.’ [28]
Berger’s comments do not show that Geering
is necessarily wrong; but that his surrender option is by no means the only one
for a theologian or Christian honestly facing the problem of secularization. No
conservative, Berger still has the courage to reaffirm the transcendence of
God, fully aware this conflicts with modernity. Geering often suggests it is
the orthodox religious leaders who are timid, and radicals like himself who are
courageous. Yet perhaps the courage needed to be a radical in the Church has
been exaggerated: it is only going back to the embrace of the orthodoxy in the
larger secular society!
I myself have pondered and struggled for
over twenty years with the sort of problems raised by Geering. Often I have
been tempted to quit, but so far I have seen no good reason to do so. Faith is
still possible in this ‘Godless’ world. Especially for a Chinese like me, from
the very beginning Christian faith is a conscious decision I have to make, because Christianity has
never been dominant in Chinese culture. In earlier days, converts to
Christianity had to pay a dear price for their decision. Even nowadays it is
still to some extent countercultural to become a Christian in Chinese society.
IV. A General Critique of Projectionism
(i) The logic of explaining religion
We need first to explore briefly the logic
of explaining religion, because projectionism purports to give a true
explanation of religion.
Firstly, note there are many kinds of
explanation we can give. For example, we can distinguish between internal and
external explanation. The former, to make sense of some religious
behaviour or phenomena, appeals to concepts internal to religion. It may
explain (say) the phenomena of witch-hunting by reference to beliefs about
witches and their harm to society. On the other hand, an external explanation
uses concepts external to religion, and explains witch-hunting as (say) an
outlet for social frustration.
Another important distinction is between partial
and comprehensive explanation. The former claims only to identify causes
somewhat contributing to the existence of some religious behaviour, The
latter purports to tell the whole story about that behaviour. Internal
explanations and external explanations are not necessarily incompatible when
both are regarded as partial explanations. For example, witch-hunting might
have occurred both because it was the natural consequence of religious beliefs
people consciously held, and because unconsciously it served as an outlet for
their suppressed frustration. However, when each is claimed to be a
comprehensive explanation, conflicts occur.
Most leading exponents of grand theories of
religion have been atheists wishing to foster the cause of unbelief by
producing radical explanations of religion, in the form of an external
comprehensive explanation. This move is understandable. If those theorists are
fundamentally skeptical about religion, of course they cannot rest with religious concepts they doubt.[29] I would
later point out that although grand theories of religion are usually motivated
by religious skepticism, skepticism does not follow logically from those
theories. External comprehensive explanations of religion do however raise questions
about the rationality of religious believers.
Human beings
normally seek to achieve what they want in what they believe to be the most
effective way. They form their beliefs on the basis of what they regard as good
evidence. In daily interaction with others, we normally take their
self-understanding seriously, explaining their behaviour in terms of their
desires, purposes and beliefs. Only when people’s behaviour seems grossly
irrational, would we look for their unconscious desires, repressed feelings,
and the like. However, when some theorists of religion provide a comprehensive
external explanation of religion, they in fact overturn the ordinary ways in
which believers describe themselves. For example, when believers say they
believe because they have experienced God, such theorists tell them they do not
quite understand themselves, for behind their belief is their desire for a
Heavenly Father’s protection, and so on. They typically claim that, in the name
of objective scientific explanation, they have to unmask what lies beneath the
surface of the human world (in this case, its religious life).
Yet it is a big assumption that models of
explanation in natural science will automatically apply to all aspects of the
human world. Many scholars argue there is something in human actions and
institutions that makes science-based models of explanation ill-suited to them.
To assume religious scepticism from the beginning also begs the question. In
explaining religion, a case can be made for conservatism and neutrality rather
than radicalism and scepticism. A radical theory of religion must prove that an
entire human institution has one meaning to its participants and yet quite
another one in reality. This claim for large-scale illusion should be greeted with
some scepticism. How can anyone even begin to show that an entire institution,
such as a religion, or an entire class of institutions, such as religion, might
be irrational? So the burden of proof is on those who maintain ‘religious
belief is to be explained as the outcome of non-rational factors …hidden to
believers themselves. …To make religion as a whole or as such the subject for
external explanation it would have to be contended that there was no route into
religious belief and behavior except through some set of non-rational causes.
... We would have to identify typical beliefs of the religious as so grossly
false or absurd that no one could be presumed capable of reaching these beliefs
[rationally].’[30]
In short, we cannot accept the hermeneutics
of suspicion adopted by Geering as the default approach in understanding
religion. Indeed, we need to be suspicious of the general claims of the
hermeneutics of suspicion.[31]
Believers are free to develop a hermeneutics of trust (or critical faith) which
do not shy away from references to the actual existence of divine realities. We
should at least be willing to entertain explanations of religion based on
methodological agnosticism rather than religious scepticism.
(ii) The weakness of Feuerbachian & Freudian
projectionism
Feuerbach’s theories of religion
successively reduced God to the essence of man, the essence of nature, and
finally the essence of desire.[32]
Freud’s critique gives a psychoanalytic twist to the last (religion as
projection of desire) by bringing the unconscious into play. Geering uses all
three lines of Feuerbach’s argument, and Freudian appeal to the unconscious.
Numerous thinkers have already mounted a counter-critique of the critique of
Feuerbach and Freud.[33]
Feuerbach held that human beings are
immersed in the natural world, with a sense of dependence on nature; gods are
nothing but different parts of nature hypostatized. Geering basically follows
this, suggesting that those religions worshipping nature deities mark
religion’s beginning. The monotheistic ‘God’ slowly evolves from these gods,
but both are projections. This may sound plausible until we ask the critical
questions: how on earth can Geering know how the ancients subjectively
experienced the world, and where does he get his extraordinary insights into
the unconscious mind of the ancients? Surely the answer can only be that he
does not really know, and the stories he confidently tells are nothing but imagination and speculation.
Moreover, Geering seems to favour the
evolutionary scheme for a history of religion, but this scheme is also under
attack.[34]
The anthropologist Schmidt in contrast argued for an anti-evolutionary scheme:
the oldest religion was not animism, totemism or nature religions, but
‘primitive monotheism.’[35]
Küng judiciously comments: ‘…neither the theory of degeneration from a lofty
monotheistic beginning nor the evolutionary theory of a lower animistic or
preanimistic beginning can be historically substantiated…Both are essentially
dogmatic systems, the first in the guise of a theologically inspired natural
science and the other… of a rationalistic natural science…[T]he primordial
religion…scientifically it simply cannot be found… the search should be called
off.’[36]
Feuerbach’s claim that ‘the
consciousness of God is nothing else than the consciousness of the species’[37]
also suffers from difficulties. In spite of interesting parallels, full
correspondence breaks down. For example, God is conceived as essentially infinite,
yet humankind is not. A naturalist would expect our fragile species to become
extinct sooner or later. Even if we could continue forever, that would only be
an existence indefinitely long, not actually infinite. And our species
is essentially finite in knowledge and power. Moreover, Feuerbach hypothesizes
the projection of human properties on to God without really explaining ‘why’ it
takes place. Perhaps this helps human beings understand themselves (or the
world) indirectly, but: ‘Why this detour through an imaginary world instead
of a direct grasp of the self and of nature? In what way does …(it) represent a
gain for the subject as compared with the simple acceptance of reality as it
is?’[38]
The projection theorist necessarily posits
his superiority to believers: ‘Religion is the childlike condition of
humanity. … the essence of religion, thus hidden from the religious, is evident
to the thinker.’[39]
Neusch again raises sharp questions: ‘Why should consciousness be thus
clouded over? Why such a passage through the religious stage? … Feuerbach,
while offering a discerning explanation of the process by which consciousness
manufactures its gods, remains silent on the causes which lead consciousness
into this kind of alienation.’[40]
The burden of proof is on the projection theorist.
Feuerbach later fastened on human desire as
the root from which all the gods spring. To fulfill his desires, man invents
gods, thus filling the void desire brings to light. Gods are projections of the
dreams of primitives crammed with desires. Desire, essentially inventive, may
provide the driving force for the projection in question. This is basically the
Freudian thesis: religion is an illusion, belief primarily motivated by
wish-fulfillment. This theory has problems. There are many ways to deal with
unfulfilled desires. Why try to fulfill desires by inventing a spurious world
of gods?
The Freudian version of projectionism is
open to criticism. Firstly, we need to see the gap between need and conscious
belief by distinguishing:
a) the need to cope with the threats of
nature and civilization, to understand oneself and the world
b) a wish for there to be a Cosmic Father
c) a belief that there is a Cosmic Father
Freud believed that (a), (b) and (c) are
true of man almost universally, and that (a) causes or explains (b), and (b)
causes or explains (c). However, there
is no valid psychological generalization from either (a) to (b) or (b) to (c).
A need may not necessarily generate a corresponding wish. We can resign, evade
or stoically accept the reality. Freud himself can adopt a non-religious way to
cope. Why cannot others? To make such a link more plausible, extra
psychological assumptions have to be made.
Statistically speaking, a wish rarely generates a belief. In contrast to dreams, conscious belief calls
for mental assent and readiness to act upon it, sometimes at great cost. Freud has not provided clear guidelines to
tell when and under what conditions a wish generates a belief. Every
belief can be explained as fulfillment of some wish. Freudian
explanation may thus be quite vacuous.
Moreover both (a) and (b) seem not to be
true of every believer. Many grow up in
well-protected environments, or cannot recall any insistent wish for a Cosmic
Father, or deny it is that wish which causes them to believe. The wishes do not seem to be necessary
conditions for belief in God. To save his theory, Freud has to claim those
wishes have been repressed into the unconscious. However, how can we know what
exactly is contained in someone’s unconscious?
Nor can the wishes alone be sufficient
conditions. Otherwise, why are there
unbelievers in all ages? (Remember Freud
thinks that such wishes are universally shared.) Freud needs to postulate
psychological processes which operate on all believers and them alone. What are these processes and how are they to
be verified? The empirical adequacy of
the Freudian naturalistic explanation is a crucial question. However, Freudians
seldom address it. Instead, naturalistic explanations are often thrown around,
supported by special cases and then generalized to all, without awareness of
the empirical inadequacy.
Another difficulty is that many religious
doctrines are psychologically difficult to adopt, e.g. selfless love,
sacrifice, striving for perfection, or taking up the cross. Moreover, a
religious attitude often leads to radical evaluation of desires. Thus ‘the
idea of wish-fulfillment in Feuerbach is a fundamentally wrong turn…. If a
believer confesses his desires before God, this may be with the purpose of
seeing their true status in the light of the divine providence. That in turn
involves seeing why they are unimportant, or need modifying or replacing by
more religiously appropriate desires….[This] is a way of coping with the
problem that the pursuit of desire satisfaction creates for the ego. But the
‘solution’ consists in bringing the ego’s desires before a standard of what is
truly worthwhile. This standard must then be thought of as something
independent of and transcending human wishes.’[41]
Projectionism is in fact a doubled-edged
sword. We can also use it to explain atheism. As Plantinga says, ‘Many
people thoroughly dislike the idea of an omnipotent, omniscient being
monitoring their every activity, privy to their every thought, and passing
judgment on all they do or think.’[42] This is confirmed by a surprisingly candid
confession of an atheist philosopher, Thomas Nagel: ‘I want atheism to be
true and am made uneasy by the fact that some of the most intelligent and
well-informed people I know are religious believers.... I hope there is no God! I don't want there to be a God; I don't want
the universe to be like that.’[43] This aversion to a theistic world is not hard
to understand. It has been pointed out, ‘God’s
infinite power and his perfect justice leave us in no very flattering
position...[T]o be an object of mercy is hardly comforting to the ego... [The]
idea of the afterlife…not only presents us with a real chance of terrible and
eternal failure, but it also makes us responsible for even the seemingly most
trivial of our actions…[C]omplete responsibility for our actions to a power
infinitely superior to ourselves…is completely repugnant to us… The secular
view of mankind, on the other hand, leaves man himself as the highest known
Being, the pinnacle of the universe…responsible only to himself, which is to
say that he is not responsible…Some humanists feel a sense of responsibility to
or for ‘mankind as a whole’ …But ‘mankind as a whole’ cannot call us to account.’[44]
(iii) The problematic nature of the mechanism of
projection
Another question for projectionism is how
can we know when the projective mechanism is operating? To answer, we have to be clear what is meant
by such a mechanism and how to identify it.
Normally when we say a belief (or experience) is a projection, it means:
a) the belief is false or the experience is
unveridical.
b) the belief or experience accords with
inner desires; and is produced entirely by them.
No doubt some experiences are projections: ‘People
who are angry and filled with…unresolved hatred often project that inner
turmoil onto others, accusing them of harshness…, interpreting the most
insignificant remark as hostility. ...
Projection is… [something] we do to distort reality and shape it into
our own subconscious image .. ‘[45] However, in this sense, 'projection' refers
to more than a psychological process. It implies (strongly negative) epistemic
evaluation and should only be used when solidly backed by evidence provided by
our consensual interpersonal and sense experiences. Otherwise, although a belief may accord with
one's desire, we still cannot conclude it is a projection. Apart from epistemic evaluation of the
belief, we normally have no secure independent way to identify the
psychological mechanism. Likewise, we
cannot say belief in God is a projection unless we can first show this belief
is false. The projectionists simply have
not told us how they identify projective mechanisms in believers.
Is there a personality type prone to
projections? If so, and believers belong
to this type, there may be reason to regard their experiences of God as
projections. However, what type of
person would be prone to project? Freud
notes it is ‘man's self-regard, seriously menaced’ which ‘calls for
consolation.’ Holloway stresses the same point: ‘Projection of any sort
seems to point to some level of self-absorption or narcissism in the subject.’[46] Common sense observations suggest that those
prone to self-deception tend to misinterpret others' motives, exhibit irrational
rage, and the like, whereas those not so prone are calm, at ease with others
and themselves, able to laugh at themselves, and have insights into others.
Many God-experients do not display symptoms of the former group at all, and a
significant number display signs of the latter group, some to an exceptional
degree. I do not claim that
God-experients are saner than non-God-experients, only that the reverse claim
is implausible.
Moreover, ‘the religious type at its
purest and highest does not seem to have these characteristics….’ There are
spiritual traditions which ‘help us in our search for self-understanding by
prompting us to make acts of radical self-examination, so that we can come to
know what is in our own hearts, and to submit to a process of purgation or
re-ordering of our ideas and values, so that we can be exposed to reality,
including the real nature of the mystery that encompasses us….Spiritual
traditions of any seriousness help us to cut away false projections and untrue
images. They call us to die to the self
that seeks comfort in illusion.’[47]
Though such traditions may produce
deviants, they do produce saints who ‘do not have the brooding complexity
and pain .…[of those} who have split off from reality. Nor do they possess the insecurities and
anxieties, the greeds and longings of the neurotic majority… trapped into
conforming to the going standards of the time.
On the contrary, the closer to God they become ..., the more simple and
joyful and straightforward they become…The insanity of total surrender
to God seems to lead to the highest types of humanity, clear and straight in
their own natures, and willing and laughter-filled in their service of
others. The paradox of sanctity is the
strongest contradiction of the claim that religion is an unhealthy projection.’[48]
Many theistic experiences are in fact
self-integrating, even demanding a high degree of honesty, integrity and
self-denial. Yes, Freudians can invent further complexes and assert
that these experiences are only caused by such complexes, but the approach
looks more and more a priori. We
have no reason to believe in such contrived hypotheses.
(iv) Projection or reflection?
The most important defect of projectionism
as a critique of theism can be shown by a counter-question: ‘So what?’ ‘If
the gods are products of wishful thinking, it does not follow that they are
merely such: we cannot conclude from this either to their existence or to their
non-existence. It is quite true that nothing exists merely because we wish it,
but it is not true that something cannot exist if we wish it.’[49]
Both perspectives may in fact coexist. What appears as a human projection in
one may appear as a reflection of divine realities in another, as Berger
points out ‘If there is any intellectual enterprise that appears to be a
pure projection of human consciousness it is mathematics…. [M]athematical
universes, [can] spring from a mathematician’s mind as pure creations of human
intellect. Yet the most astounding result of modern natural science is the
reiterated discovery…that nature, too, is in its essence a fabric of
mathematical relations. Put crudely, the mathematics that man projects out of
his own consciousness somehow corresponds to a mathematical reality that is
external to him, and which indeed his consciousness appears to reflect… [T]here
is a fundamental affinity between the structures of his consciousness and…of
the empirical world. Projection and reflection are movements within the same
encompassing reality. The same may be true of the projection of man’s religious
imagination.’[50]
The dichotomy between human projection and
cosmic reflection is in fact only an assumption inherited from the
Enlightenment. From other perspectives, human projection and cosmic reflection
are not necessarily mutually exclusive, and may indeed overlap. Behind the
hermeneutics of suspicion lies a similarly unjustified dichotomy between
imagination and reality: ‘For the modernist…imagination [is] … the source of
speculation, fantasy, and illusion …religion is the product of imagination; therefore
religious claims are untrue.’ However, after the postmodernist turn, this
dichotomy needs to be radically evaluated. We are no longer confident we have ‘reliable
access to a ‘reality’ against which imagination might be judged ‘illusory.’
Imagination now becomes the unavoidable means of apprehending ‘reality.’’
Even the history of science ‘is the history of the scientific imagination,
the narrative of the successive paradigms that have held sway in communities of
scientists.’[51]
So Green suggests, ‘the thesis that
religion…is a product of human imagination ought to be accepted… For… what else
could it be? To insist that our truth claims are not mediated by imagination is
to claim unique exemption from the limits of bodily and historical existence to
which our contemporaries are subject …[W]e hold those truths as stewards rather
than as masters, in the earthen vessels of imaginative paradigms…The mark of
the Christian in the twilight of modernity is therefore imaginative
faithfulness, trust in the faithfulness of the God who alone guarantees the
conformity of our images to reality, and who has given himself to us in forms
that may only be grasped by imagination.’ So ‘we can continue to appeal
to the facts, to aim at a truth beyond our own subjectivity, as long as we
remember that all theoretical concepts, even the concepts of facts, are
paradigm-dependent …[R]ight interpretation depends on right imagination. …A
postmodernity that acknowledges the fiduciary element inherent in all human
activity cannot reasonably exclude theology on the grounds that it appeals to
faith.’[52]
V.
Critical Evaluation of
Geering’s Supporting Argument
The problems with global anti-realism
(constructivism)
One major
problem with Geering’s thought concerns internal coherence. His appeal to
global anti-realism brings this out clearly. Firstly, global anti-realism or
relativism seems self-defeating or self-referentially incoherent. If ‘no human
culture provides the norm to which all cultures should conform, and all human
cultures are relative,’ what about this claim itself? The credibility of
this statement is relative to culture: only in a Western secular pluralist
culture will it be widely accepted. Moreover, while the statement denies
universality to all cultural norms, it is itself a normative claim purporting
to be able to judge all cultures. How can Geering do this without avoiding
self-contradiction?
Secondly, Geering’s global anti-realism does not sit well with his other claims, e.g., his
faith in the relative objectivity of science, his confidence in the
secularization theory and in Feuerbach’s theory of religion. If global
anti-realism is true, all theories of natural science, social science and
philosophy are nothing but myths, no worse or better off than religious
doctrines. Even relative judgment of objectivity or the appeal to verisimilitude
would not be possible, because these presuppose an objective scale to measure
degrees of truth. Geering may protest he has said this all along. However, he
goes on to proclaim the demise of religion and the untenability of religious
doctrines as if these are indubitable objective truth claims. For example, he
asserts that those religions which claim to be absolute must surrender those
claims if they are to continue viable (WTC, 81). Must surrender? This
sounds rather absolute. Maybe
it is all rhetoric. If so, then we have no reason to be swayed by
Geering’s stories.
Geering’s use of Einsteinian relativity
theory to buttress relativism is dubious, for this has nothing to do with
relativism. It relativises previous understandings about the universe, but
posits its own equations as newfound truth. Moreover, it acknowledges at least
one absolute in the natural world - the velocity of light. Driver’s claim that ‘Christocentrism
cannot make sense in the Einsteinian universe’ is also unconvincing. Torrance by contrast combines
Christocentrism and relativity,[53]
arguing that the Christian Faith is more consonant with Einstein’s dynamic
universe than with Newton’s mechanistic one.
Geering has three
magic words: ‘of human origin,’ which he applies to everything. However, this
process often involves a fallacy. He says, ‘All religious traditions are of
human origin – none is exempt… so there is no one religion which is the
norm for all others. None of them is absolute and final’ (WTC, 81;
emphasis mine). Here Geering seems to commit the fallacy of inferring from ‘of human origin’ to ‘relative
and not absolute.’ [54]
When we say some truth claim is of human
origin, we may simply be saying it has been created by humans and expressed in
human language. In this sense it is tautological to say every ‘truth’ is of
human origin, but it has no earth-shaking implications. The law of
non-contradiction, the statement ‘2+2=4’, the law of universal gravitation, the
claim that there is a place called China or New Zealand and so on, are all of
human origin. Yet it does not follow that these are not objective
truths. (And even if these ‘truths’ turn out to be false, their falsehood still
does not follow from the fact of their human origin.) Sometimes, however,
Geering seems to use ‘of human origin’ to mean ‘merely of human origin.’
When we say a particular thought is merely of human origin, we are
saying it is entirely generated out of human fantasy with no input from external
reality, natural or divine. Yet even here it is still fallacious to infer that
that thought has to be false (genetic fallacy). Suppose I dreamt last night I
would win a lottery, and came to believe it. This conviction is surely merely
of human origin, yet conceivably the dream may come true - if I am lucky.
Even scientific truths may, like the ring structure of the benzene molecule,
originate from a dream
The above distinctions help us guard
against the confusion between ‘of human origin’ and ‘merely of human
origin,’ and expose the fallacy of inferring from the former to the latter.
Geering asserts ‘everything dependent on language is also human in origin
and form. It means that the Bible is a human product,…for all such things are
contingent on language,…itself a human product’ (TG, 26). Now either this
passage embodies the fallacy, or Geering is misleadingly sliding from one sense
of the words to another. Christians admit the Bible is of human origin.
Nevertheless, they deny it is merely of human origin because they
believe that although the words are written (or even created) by humans, they
are at the same time inspired by God. This claim may or may not be true, but is
certainly a coherent possibility. To argue that because the Bible uses human
words, it therefore has no input from divine reality is a non sequitur.
We should also distinguish anti-realist
from fallibilist interpretations of the word ‘relative.’ When we say a truth
claim is relative in the anti-realist sense, we claim it is basically false,
and does not refer to objective reality. When we say a truth claim is relative
in the fallibilist sense, we simply point out it may not be entirely true and
is open to revision or correction. The fallibilist sense does not entail the
anti-realist sense. A fallibilist relative claim may still successfully refer
to objective reality to some extent. Geering’s argument would be more plausible
when ‘relative’ is interpreted in the fallibilist sense, but he wants to make
the stronger claim. But his arguments do not adequately support this.
We can now see
more clearly the crucial problem with Geering’s argument from the
constructivist understanding of language.[55]
Just as the dichotomy between ‘of human origin’ and ‘referring to reality’ is
false, so is the dichotomy between ‘words of our language are inescapably human
construction,’ and ‘words of our language refer more or less successfully to
external reality.’ Yes, human language is inescapably of human construction,
but this process of construction is also inspired and influenced by our
interaction with the real world. This interaction consists of both our
perceptual experiences of the world, and its impact on us. It is false to say
that our linguistic and conceptual constructs are entirely free of imaginative
and subjective elements (naïve realism). But it is also an exaggeration to say
that ‘[o]nly language stands between us and the Void’ (anti-realism). The middle way of critical realism is more advisable. It pretends to
neither infallible knowledge nor the God’s eye-view. It acknowledges human
knowledge is partial and revisable but points out this does not mean all
knowledge claims are thereby completely false or useless. Partial description
of reality or revisable models of the world can still contain elements of truth
and useful guidelines to our intellect or action. The key is a humble spirit
open to revision and critical dialogue with different viewpoints.
Lastly, if Geering’s global anti-realism is problematic, so is his
vision of global secular culture: ‘There is no permanent fixed point
from which we can view reality. …It can never be more than a human
construction … everything previously regarded as fixed and absolute is
now seen to be relative’ (TG, p. 194-5; emphasis mine). The tension within
this position is palpable. While declaring the non-existence of any fixed
point, Geering is at the same time saying that everything can never
be more than a human construction. Thus global relativism is the fixed point
from which we can view everything! To impose this self-contradiction on the
global world is both irrational and exclusivist
VI.
Critical Faith vs. Uncritical Suspicion: Towards Critical Realism
Geering, in adopting the hermeneutics of
suspicion towards religion, celebrates critical reflection. However, unless we
are selectively critical, we should also reflect critically upon the critique
of religion itself. Many Christian
theologians and philosophers have offered able replies to the Enlightenment
critique of religion, and critics of traditional religion should not just
reiterate their critiques but engage with these replies.
On the other hand, faith also should be
self-critical. Critical realism seeks to navigate between the Scylla of naïve
realism and the Charybdis of constructivism. Faith is willing to have a
critical dialogue with criticisms. My own judgment is that orthodox
Christianity has weathered the storm of the Enlightenment, emerging basically
unscathed. It is Enlightenment ideology which seems to be running out of steam.
Now rebuttal of objections can at most show
that the Faith has not yet been falsified. It is difficult to have definitive
proof of any worldview, naturalistic or Christian. There is, however, a more
realistic model of inference, namely abduction or inference to the best
explanation (IBE). Using this, and other criteria like simplicity and
comprehensiveness, we can rationally evaluate different worldviews. The
simplest worldview which, when compared with others, possesses the greatest
power to explain the whole gamut of human experiences and empirical data, can
be provisionally deemed superior. The game is open to all. Every worldview,
including Geering’s naturalism, needs to show how it can explain things better
than other worldviews. I consider the naturalistic worldview is not
demonstrably superior to the Christian one, and sometimes the latter has the
better explanatory power.
One major defect of Geering’s discussions
is that he writes as if the past fifty years of development of philosophy of
religion have not happened. Yet this development is recognized by those atheists
who have tried to combat the contemporary upsurge of natural theology by
founding a journal, Philo. Its editor writes in the first issue:
‘Over the past
two decades, a number of outstanding theistic philosophers have produced a
number of very significant works in the philosophy of religion. Some of these
works employ conceptual tools developed in science, the philosophy of science,
and formal logic to give new life to old arguments… While these various
apologetic enterprises have multiplied, with some notable exceptions, the
response of nontheist philosophers has been muted.’[56]
Traditional arguments for theism have found
able defenders. For example, the cosmological argument is defended by
philosophers like Braine, Grisez, Miller, and Meynell.[57]
Gale, a critic of theism, has come to embrace a new cosmological argument.[58] Swinburne and Davies (amongst many others)
show that Hume’s objections to the design argument are not conclusive.[59]
The claim that science has rendered the design argument redundant is also
debatable, and contemporary science has uncovered numerous ‘coincidences’ which
conspire to make the emergence of life possible.[60]
This kind of fine-tuning of the universe has given rise to a new form of design
argument, the anthropic design argument.[61]
When arguments for theism are construed not
as deductive arguments but as inferences to the best explanation, their
significance can be better appreciated. While none may be conclusive, each can
be suggestive, and their cumulative force hard to ignore. The anthropological
argument for God’s existence is especially interesting in our context. While
Geering wants to follow Feuerbach in reducing
theology to anthropology, some
theists argue that in fact the anthropological data are more coherent with the
theistic than the naturalistic
worldview.[62]
The theistic hypothesis concerning Man is
that he is ultimately created by God in His image with the purpose that
he would freely choose personal communion with God and others. The naturalistic
hypothesis is that Man is entirely[63]
the physical product of naturalistic evolution. Which hypothesis better
explains the facts of human existence, especially the phenomenon of human self-transcendence?
Geering himself points to the amazing existence of ‘critical
self-consciousness’ with the ‘potential to examine critically our own
thinking and the culture which has shaped us.’ This is ‘a process of
human self-transcendence’ (TG, p. 83). The capacity to use language is
awe-inspiring. ‘It can even ask questions about the emergent universe which
has brought it about. Should we not wonder in amazement how the helpless
day-old infant we may be holding in our arms can be asking us only four years
later, ‘where did I come from? How did I come to be here?’ Moreover, humans go
on to ask surprisingly penetrating questions: ‘Why are we here? … Why do we
die? What is life for?’ (TG, p. 88). This quest for meaning is often
expressed in the creation of symbols, and the human psyche can be regarded as ‘a
veritable symbol-making factory’ (TG, p. 122).
So we cannot help asking: ‘Why this kind of
psyche? Why this capacity of self-transcendence?’ From the viewpoint of
naturalistic evolution, all that matters is survival. It is doubtful that the
existential quest in any way contributes to human survival in a primitive
jungle. Geering does understand this
problem: ‘One of the great mysteries of the natural world is that out
of it has evolved the human species, which has the capacity to think, to ask
questions, to look for meaning and to be creative… There is no obvious reason
why we have evolved as we have, nor why there should be any life at all on this
planet, since none of our planetary neighbours shows signs of life. The origin
and purpose of human existence is itself a mystery’ (WTC, pp. 156-57).
Geering effectively admits that naturalism
cannot explain well the phenomenon of human self-transcendence, and that from
naturalism’s perspective, man’s emergence is a mystery. However, he
dogmatically assumes the naturalistic story must be true: ‘the inanimate
universe must have had the potential for life from the beginning …the
universe itself must have had not only the potential for life but also
the potential for human self-consciousness. …we must conclude, the
creativity present in the human psyche is simply a manifestation of the
creativity potentially present in the universe itself’ (TG, p. 87; emphasis
mine).
In the end the only ‘explanation’ he can
offer is chance: ‘All we can say is that from the
beginning the universe and the earth had the potential for purposive action,
even though the activity shown by the universe through aeons of time has been blind
and unplanned. Only by an almost infinite number of chance events,
coupled with the outworking of its own incarnating itself on this particular
planet in a particular mode of being, within which self-consciousness, free
choice and purposiveness have become a reality.’ (TG, p. 231; emphasis mine).
The phenomenon of man is indeed extraordinary, and it is unsatisfactory
to treat it as a fluke of the
evolutionary process. To assert the inanimate universe by itself must
have had the potential for life and human self-consciousness from the beginning
plainly begs the question against theists who argue the contrary. This ‘must’
illegitimately assumes the truth of naturalism. Good cases can be made for the
claims that life’s emergence by chance is extremely unlikely,[64]
and that consciousness cannot be reduced to matter. Even assuming this
potential of our universe to generate life, such potential itself needs to be
explained. Contemporary science tells us that for the universe to have the
potential to make the emergence of life possible, the universe has to be
incredibly fine-tuned, the probability of which is again extremely low.
Geering’s appeal to chance ‘explanation’ is
hardly convincing. Firstly, such
'explanations' have little positive explanatory power. Secondly, there are many 'signals of
transcendence'[65]
pointing in the same direction. A 'fluke
explanation' may be acceptable for one or several of them but becomes
progressively less so as such 'flukes' accumulate. Simple statistics tells us
that the probability of a series of an ‘almost infinite number of chance events’
quickly dwindles towards zero.
Thirdly, it is doubtful these experiences are survival-conducive. The naturalist may deny our life has a cosmic
meaning, yet its possibility makes the extravagant human quest all the more
puzzling. Kurtz, the secular humanist, acknowledges that ‘It is as if the
species Man has a schizoid nature- his feet implanted on earth but his
imaginative soul soaring toward a heaven of magical unreality. Overwhelmed by the ache of humdrum existence,
he seeks an escape to another dimension. ...
Man deceives himself about his ultimate destiny so as not to be
tormented by the contemplation of it.’[66]
Suppose Kurtz is right. Why the
'useless' soaring imagination? Why the
'harmful' tendency to be tormented by the contemplation of ultimate destiny?
The naturalistic worldview does not give a good explanation for this
strange, 'schizoid' nature of Man.
Geering himself is aware of this (TG, p.
61-2). From the evolutionary perspective, the human psyche is unnecessarily
convoluted, and its symbol-making capacity redundant. Why cannot evolution
throw up a more pragmatic human being, single-minded about his own survival?
On the other hand, a coherent theistic
explanation is readily available, and it is not valid to label it anachronistic
and just reject it. If we are created for communion with God, it is to be
expected that we would have an innate drive to achieve a proper relationship
with the Infinite which originates from our imago dei. Since this relationship is also the
source of our telos, our meaning and wholeness, the innate urge to seek
such a relationship is naturally reflected in our quest for meaning, wholeness
and identity.
The pattern of the spiritual quest can be
neatly explained by the spiritual origin of human being: ‘our tendency to
surpass continually our own achieved satisfactions, tells us something about
human subjectivity, but it also argues for a divine correlate in the
objectivity of God.’ That is why ‘in the course of most human lives
advertence to certain features of the finite world does spark off a kind of
movement of transcendence, a nostalgia for eternity, a haunting sense of the
infinite. This nostalgia can certainly
be brushed aside as irrelevant to ordinary living; yet equally certainly it can
be interpreted as the eruption into everyday consciousness of the most
fundamental orientation of the spirit of man.
For man is essentially erotic: man is openness, wanting, and thirsting
to be filled.’[67]
Obviously, these suggestions and arguments
need to be fleshed out. My purpose here is to show that a critical rational
dialogue can and in fact is being carried out between theistic and atheistic
philosophers. Both have to make their cases, and it is by no means true that
there is nothing to say for the theistic worldview. Geering has short-circuited
the problem of truth most of the time, and his suggestion that the naturalists
have decisively won the rational debate is simply incorrect.
Conclusion
In this essay, I argue that Geering’s
dismissal of theism is ungrounded, and his analysis of the options is faulty.
He greatly underestimates theism’s intellectual strength and staying power. I
suggest that orthodox Christianity, especially when exhibited as a
self-reflective and critical faith, is still a viable option in today’s world.
The misuse of the Christian faith has led to grave errors in the past,
especially in the West. Geering’s radical theology is partly a reaction to this
history. However, in the global world he likes to talk about, we should note
the emergence of a truly global Christianity.[68]
Christian numbers in the non-Western world already exceed those in the West.
The future of Christianity should not be equated with the future of Western
Christianity. There is no reason for the non-Western Church to be preoccupied
with the past mistakes of the Western Church, or be excessively blamed for
them.
Neusch points out, ‘Feuerbach’s critique
of religion portrays God and man as rivals: what is attributed to God is denied
to man, and, conversely, what is given to man is taken from God. The God of
Feuerbach resembles Caesar rather than the crucified Jesus.’ This is a
caricature of God: ‘[D]oes not the true greatness of God himself consist in
his respect for precisely this autonomy? And does not the greatness of man
consist in acknowledging that this very autonomy is a gift of God?’ [69]
I agree with Charles Taylor in believing
there is a large element of hope: ‘the hope implicit in Judaeo-Christian
theism… and in its central promise of a divine affirmation of the human’,
an affirmation more total than humans can ever attain unaided.[70]
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NOTES
[1] In this paper, I draw mainly on
Geering’s recent books, Tomorrow's God: How We Create Our Worlds; The World to Come: From Christian Past to Global Future; and Christianity Without God. References for them
are in the main text, with TG, WTC and CWG standing for each respectively.
[2] Herwig Arts, Faith and Unbelief: Uncertainty and Atheism (Minnesota:
The Liturgical Press, 1992); Marcel Neusch, The Modern Sources of Atheism
(Paulist, 1982).
[3] Peter
L. Berger, A Rumour of Angels: Modern Society and the Rediscovery of the
Supernatural (Allen Lane: The Penguin Press, 1969)
[12] Harvey Cox, ‘The Myth of the Century: The Rise and Fall of ‘Secularization,’’
in Gregory Baum, ed., The Twentieth Century: A Theological Overview (Maryknoll,
New York: Orbis, 1999), pp. 135-43.
[13] Peter Berger, A Far
Glory: The Quest for Faith in an Age of Credulity (New York: Doubleday,
1992), p. 13.
[16] Peter L. Berger, ed., The Desecularization of the World:
Resurgent Religion and World Politics (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Eerdmans,
1999), p. 2.
[29] Peter B. Clarke and Peter Byrne, Religion- Defined and Explained
(New York: St. Martin's Press, 1993), p. 32.
[31] See D. Z. Phillips, Religion and the Hermeneutics of
Contemplation (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001).
[32] Ludwig
Feuerbach, The Essence of Christianity (New York: Harper Torchbooks,
1957 [1843]); Ludwig Feuerbach, 1967. Lectures on the
Essence of Religion (New York: Harper and Row, 1967 [1851]).
[33] See Hans Küng, Does God
Exist? An Answer for Today (London: Collins, 1980), pp. 91ff; Phillips, op.cit,
ch. 4; Neusch, op.cit., pp. 31ff; and Clarke and Byrne, op.cit.,
ch. 8.
[34] For example, Andrew Lang, The Making of Religion (New York:
AMS Press, 1968); originally published in 1898.
[35] Wilhelm Schmidt, Der Ursprung der Gottesidee (The Origin of
the Idea of God), Münster, 1912-55.
[36] Hans Küng, Freud and the Problem of God,
Enlarged edition (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1990), p. 70;
emphasis in original.
[42] Alvin Plantinga, Selected
Chapters from Warranted Christian Belief
(Summer School '98 course IND616, Regent College, 1998), p. 131.
[45] Richard Holloway, Crossfire- Faith and Doubt in an Age of
Certainty (London: Collins, 1988), p. 103.
[51] Garrett
Green, Theology, Hermeneutics and Imagination: The Crisis of Interpretation
at the End of Modernity (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000), p. 14.
[53] T. F. Torrance, Transformation and Convergence in the Frame of
Knowledge: Exploration in the
Interrelations of Scientific and Theological Enterprise (Grand Rapids,
Michigan: Eerdmans, 1984)
[54] See William A. Dembski’s essay, ‘The Fallacy of Contextualism’, in
Dembski and Jay Wesley Richards, eds., Unapologetic Apologetics: Meeting the
Challenges of Theological Studies (Downers Grove, Illinois: InterVarsity
Press, 2001), pp. 44-56.
[55] Here Geering relies heavily on Cupitt, who
in turn relies on Derrida. See Peter Byrne, God and Realism (Aldershot,
Hants: Ashgate, 2003), ch. 5, for a good critique of both Cupitt and Derrida.
[57] David Braine, The Reality of Time and the Existence of God: The
Project of Proving God’s Existence
(Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1988); Germain Grisez, Beyond the New
Theism: A Philosophy of Religion (Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame
Press, 1975); Barry Miller, From Existence to God: A Contemporary
Philosophical Argument (London: Routledge, 1992); Hugo Meynell, The
Intelligible Universe: A Cosmological Argument (Macmillan, 1982).
[58] Richard M. Gale and Alexander R. Pruss, ‘A
New Cosmological Argument,’ Religious Studies, vo.35 no.4
(December 1999), pp. 461-76.
[59] Frederick Ferre, Basic Modern Philosophy of Religion
(London: George Allen and Unwin, 1967); Rem B. Edwards, Reason and Religion:
An Introduction to the Philosophy of Religion (New York: Harcourt Brace
Jovanovich, 1972); Stephen T. Davis, God, Reason and Theistic Proofs
(Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 1997), 100-106; Stanley Tweyman, ed., David
Hume: Critical Assessments, vol.V: Religion (London: Routledge,
1995).
[60] Michael Behe, Darwin’s Black Box: The Biochemical Challenge to Evolution (New York: Free Press, 1996); William A. Dembski, The Design
Inference (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998); William A.
Dembski, ed., Mere Creation (Downers Grove, Illinois: InterVarsity
Press, 1998); Phillip E. Johnson, Darwin on Trial (Downers Grove,
Illinois: InterVarsity Press, , 2nd edn.,1993); J.P. Moreland, ed., The
Creation Hypothesis (Downers Grove, Illinois: InterVarsity Press, 1994).
The July/August 1999 issue of Touchstone: A Journal of Mere Christianity
was devoted to this movement.
[61] John Leslie, Universes (London: Routledge, 1989); M.A.
Corey, God and the New Cosmology: The Anthropic Design Argument (Lanham,
MD: Rowman and Littlefield, 1993).
[63] The naturalistic hypothesis here is a metaphysical
hypothesis to be distinguished from the scientific theory of evolution. Even if science has established the fact of
gradual evolution of life forms and emergence of complexity, this does not
warrant the claim that man is entirely a physical product. God can be the antecedent and sustaining
cause of the evolutionary process.
[64] Fazale Rana and Hugh Ross, Origins of Life: Biblical &
Evolutionary Models Face Off (Colorado Springs, CO: NavPress, 2004). The
British atheistic philosopher, Antony Flew, has recently been converted to
theism by the accumulating scientific evidence. See his letter to Philosophy
Now 47, ‘It has become inordinately difficult even to begin to think
about constructing a naturalistic theory of evolution of that first reproducing
organism.’
[65] Berger uses this term to refer to ‘phenomena that are to be
found within the domain of our ‘natural’ reality but that appear to point
beyond that reality’ (A Rumour of Angels, p. 70). .
[68] See Philip Jenkins, The
Next Christendom: The Coming of Global Christianity (Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2002).
[70] Charles Taylor, Sources of the Self: The Making of the Modern
Identity (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989), p. 521.
