Showing posts with label Buddhism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Buddhism. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Good God!

I've been very slothful in my updating responsibilities. I hope those who read this will forgive me, as RA duties/school work/Korean/being sick/club duties/grad school stuff/friendship/relationship/Korean/research have all been in que before my blog has.
A few weeks back (yes, I've been thinking about this for two full weeks), my philosophy professor asked how we can believe in an omnibenevolent God who is also omnipotent if we live in a world with evil. For if God is all good and all powerful, then He should prevent any evil.
To face this challenge, however, we first need to look at what it means to say "There is evil in the world." What do we mean by this? I take it that most of us would agree that by "evil" we mean something that is universally bad. Something might seem unfair, but if it generates net good (in a direct way) we cannot label it as evil. Likewise, even though someone might gain some advantage from some choice of his, if it creates a net negative reaction in a direct way, we might label this as evil. To illustrate this idea: Bill forgets to give his brother Steve the hundred dollars he promised and instead sends it to his favorite charity. Steve might think Bill's action was mean or unfair, but few of us would label a generous act, especially if it was in genuine forgetfulness, as evil. On the other hand: Rich embezzles money from his company. Rich benefits from this, and his workers suffer a bit, but overall we term this as evil.
Even with this sophisticated notion of evil, we haven't yet said anything about its origins. The idea of evil is not one that pervades every society, nor is it one that has been readily available to all peoples. According to Nietzsche, evil is a notion that can be traced directly back to monotheism in general and Judaism in particular. He says that most nations embrace an idea of "good" and "bad" wherein bad is simply "what we are not," and not anything more or less. In this way, something is good because it is widely accepted in society. However, Judaism introduces the idea of "evil" leading to an emphasis in evil over good. In this sense, evil means "what you are" with the you being other nations. Thus the emphasis is not a negative one (what isn't like me...) but a positive one (what is like you...). In this way the idea of evil is one that includes more malice and the idea of good is changed from a positivist spin to a negative one (even now we think of good as being without sin).
Is Nietzsche right, though? In Zoroastrianism as well as sects such as the Macabees and the Gnostics, the view of the universe has been a dualistic one. There is no "good and evil" but rather a "light and dark." This presents a less malicious view of what is seen in a negative light (evil/bad/dark) because by the very nature of dualism, the light and the dark are two parts of one reality. They almost exist in synchronicity, though usually only until the great and final battle where light conquers darkness (though only barely).
Similarly, in paganistic cults there were always gods of the dark arts. Hades is the god of the underworld and is always full of malice. Loki is the god of mischief. Anansi is the spider god who plays tricks on people. Toth is the deceiful god who tries to trick the dead. Cerberus and Fenrir are vicious dogs of godly power. But these figures are also countered by gods with more benevolent tendencies. However, whether it be Olympus or Asgard, the gods always seem to be more morally relative than in any sort of determinate ethical stance.
Hinduism and Buddhism also seems to see good and bad more as pathways through life. Good will lead us to Nirvana. Bad will send us circling around through various incarnations.
Even philosophy only speaks of things in terms of virtuous and vicious.
So we see that the idea of evil is inalterably connected to the idea of a good God. We cannot view there being any evil unless we come from a standpoint where we compare it to the absolute good (God). So we can't even speak of evil from an atheistic standpoint. We can talk of Nietzsche's will to power and people's selfish drives and immoral tendencies, but we can't use evil to describe it. For if we use the term "evil" that denotes that we are comparing it against something, presumably "good." And thus we must have some standard of good, otherwise our view of evil has no real basis. Thus, our standard of good must be the highest good, thus God.
But I have not yet answered the question. All I have shown is that we have locked ourselves into a paradox. With an omnibenevolent God, there should be no evil. However, without an omnibenevolent God we have no standard of good with which to talk about evil. So now I am forced to either answer the question to the best of my ability or remain silent on ethics until I can.
I take Augustine's view on sin and evil. Evil might be equatable to sin, since both are in opposition to God, and none should deny that evil is always sin. Thus, if sin and evil can be spoken of in this instance unequivocally (which I hope to show is the case), then my case might be made. Sin, to Augustine, is simply a turning away from God. If we concede that evil is the opposite of the ultimate good, then it follows as well that evil is a turning from God. Original sin, then was the first turning away from God which introduced sin and evil into the world and stained our human souls. However, original sin is not the subject of this discussion, though it is most certainly a part.
I further hold, as Aquinas does, that in order for something to become it best good (its telos, per Aristotle), it must be fully made through, or perfected. However, something that is created without the ability to reach its best good cannot grow or be perfected. It is a good thing to undergo growth and perfection, thus it is better to develop into the best good rather than be created in it. Thus it would seem that it is better to grow into our telos rather than being created in it. So we can see that humans can derive greater good from being imperfect and growing into perfection.
Part of not being made through, and growing, is the process of making choices. Many choices we make are ethical or moral choices. In choosing something good, we turn toward God. By being able to turn toward God, we must also be able to turn away from God. Thus, a necessary part of our being able to grow is to be able to sin.
If we admit all these things, then it follows that if God is all good, and part of His good is our perfection, then there must be evil in the world. This does not make the reality of evil any easier to understand or to accept, however, it shows that perhaps there is more to what's going on than a simple matter of what we think God should do and what God does. Simply because we see evil around us does not mean that God has abandoned us. What it might mean is that God wants us to help make a difference.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

religio fidesque populis

The true Christian faces an unfair attack. Firstly, he must deal with the harrassment from the pugnacious non-believer. This includes not merely atheists and agnostics, but also those from other faiths as well. This isn't to say all people who are not Christian are bellacose, but there are those who attack Christianity from an outside perspective. Secondly, the Christian must also face the infidelity and persecution from other so-called Christians.
I shall address the issue of the so-called Christian first. Kierkegaard pointed out that not everyone who was under the banner of "Christianity" really followed Christ. For this purpose, SK preferred to refer to the Christian world, specifically Christian Europe, as Christendom.
I agree with this idea. Christianity has become too much of a world power. Granted, the Papal States are now reduced to simply the Vatican, but in America you can only get so far without claiming Christianity. Granted, Europe has lost it's Christian fervor, but here in the states, the name of the game is Evangelism and a great power lies behind it. However, the issue is not Christianity having a growing number of followers. On the contrary, the issue is Christianity relaxing the definition of what it means to be Christian. It is, however, the issue of abandoning basic Christian principles such as humility, charity, and patience while still claiming our actions to be the will of God. No person can take us seriously while we declare our selfish and destructive behaviors to be those of good Christians.
On the other hand are the non-believers. The true Christian faces ridicule from them precisely because of those so-called believers, Christendom. A person of good faith with works to support it and a true understanding of Christ's message is not the same as the person who attacks biological study on the basis of a message that doesn't align with the Genesis account of the beginning of the world. If we are truly working as Christ's messengers, then what atheists say should not become an issue for us to crucify them.
I am reminded of Islam from about 1000 to 1200. Muslim scholars endeavored to be scientifically minded and our own modern "scientific method" was devised by Muslim scientists. However, they didn't question their faith, no matter what results were found. A Muslim whose scientific data seemed to contradict his faith would normally choose one of the following options: either he was wrong about his experiment and misinterpreted the data, or he misunderstood his own faith. Never did they assume that their faith was completely incorrect. Nor did they ever question the empirical evidence before them. What they faced was a synthesis of science and faith, one that theologians and philosophers have been attempting to continue, but also one where the screams of the confused masses are heard loud and clear over the whispers of those who would seek to ease the tension.
Perhaps truly where Christianity started to go wrong was where every religion has. Historically speaking, religions tend to be ok until they become nationalized. Islamic theocracies tend to exhibit policies that are justified only because one امام (Emam) interpreted the اهدث (ahdith) and the قورأن (Qur'an) a certain way. Hindus in India exhibit violence because they are the national religion. Christianity went sour when Constantine made it the official religion of the empire. All of a sudden, what had been a way of life for those who truly believed in the teachings of Christ, now became a civil advantage to those in the Roman empire. A Christian, or at least someone who claimed to be such, had a measurable advantage over a pagan or a Jew. For Christianity in the rest of the world at the time, there were no such disadvantages. Thus, in the Middle East, Christians were a non-violent people, who still resembled their predecessors while those in Europe became increasingly more self-serving.
The same can be said for even sects of Christianity. A Lutheran in Germany had an advantage over a Catholic, to the point of blood, in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. In Northern Ireland today, a people who are officially protestant (the Northern Irish) are up against a people who had traditionally stayed Catholic (the Irish in general). And voters were surprised in 1960 when a Catholic was elected into the highest seat of power in a predominately Protestant nation.
But this even transcend the border of simple faith traditions. Nations that are officially atheist demonstrate this same kind of forced bullying with their ideals. The former Soviet Union took over many territories and nations that had been Christian and outlawed religion and atheist China went to arms against peace-loving, Buddhist Tibet. So we see that even the ban of religion is itself a national religion.
But the Christian man must overcome all this. He must truly be the Christian. He must not only be a martyr, but also an apologist. As Simone Weil said of her life, he must stand at the crossroads. He must be willing to bridge the gap that the human race is tearing into itself.
As men and women of faith, we ought to know that science cannot disprove our God. We cannot prove Him, but we cannot either disprove Him. Furthermore, we ought to know that because of this, we should net let our faith be shaken by this. We must stand firm in our faith, but must also be able to withstand the buffets of those who stand against our faith and those who parade about and make a mockery of it. The tragedy is that we are the minority trying to stand out against a majority that claims our name and another large group that associates us together. It is our duty to reach out to the world and show love and wisdom in our faith and lives.

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

A product of our times?

Being as faithfully religious as I am, the question of the legitimacy of other faiths has occurred to me quite frequently. In fact, Alexa and I often discuss the ecumenical nature of faith, and the exact reason why I find Catholicism to be validated against this principle (Vatican II).
However, I would be remiss if I pondered these questions without asking the question: Are my beliefs truly as valid as I think that they are, or am I merely a product of Christianity's two thousand years of history and theology?
As it stands, that question is a very legitimate question, seeing as Christianity does only have two thousand years behind it and religion in general has been traced back at least five thousand years (and by the Old Testament standards, six thousand). If my beliefs about God become man only go back to the early Christians and theologians such as Athanasius, Origen, Jerome, Augustine and others, then what am I to say about those who lived before?
Not only that, but some of the most popular religions in the world predate Christianity by quite a long time. Buddhism has five hundred years on Christianity, while Hinduism has at least six hundred. Judaism can be traced at least another thousand years before Christ. Where does that leave those people? If we might state that the proof of Christianity's validity is in its longevity than what do we say about these faiths? Or what about Islam which is only six hundred years younger than Christianity?
Questions such as these give some people a reason to doubt their faith. Others claim that God did simply not reveal himself to these people. Some see other faiths as stumbling blocks and scandals in the way of Christianity (specifically those who read the Apocalypse of John literally).
However, I find my faith validated in various other places. As a bit of a Classics scholar, the Romans and Greeks fascinate me. Of course both of these nations worshiped a plethora of gods, and neither one of their religions have survived the test of time. But what seems peculiar to me is not their faith, but those who were not of their faiths.
One of my favorite philosophers of all time, Socrates, was accused of being an atheist. However, peculiarly, in nearly every dialogue I've ever read of his, he mentions deity, or Providence or some kind of reference to a God. Furthermore, in his Apology, Socrates talks at length about the spirit that always spoke to him. From a Christian perspective, a lot of Socrates' philosophy seems to mirror Christian thought (which is not surprising considering many of the Christian theologians and philosophers were trained in the Greek style). So I find some encouragement in Socrates' Christian-like thinking.
Furthermore, it seems to me that faiths such as Hinduism, Buddhism, Judaism and Islam started more or less as national faiths. Hinduism, Islam and Judaism all filled in religious vacuums in the cultures where they started. Buddhism came around in a Hindu setting, but it migrated East to more accepting climes. Christianity blossomed in the Jewish region of the Roman Empire. Christianity had to fight against two strong religions, and yet still grew, even when it became outlawed in the empire, and Christians were killed for sport.
So it is that I have faith in the Christian faith. By this I mean not only that I have faith in the guiding principles of Christianity and in the Divinity of Christ Jesus, but also in the faith itself. I believe that Christians can relearn to love. I believe that Christians can relearn to accept others who are different and reach out to those marginalized by society. I believe that Christians can help the poor, protest war, and stand as real witnesses of the love that God gave us. We preach Christ crucified. A doctrine whereby we profess that God's mercy and love were so great that he forgave us all our follies. As Christians and followers of this God, it is our duty to show that Christianity's strength lies not in the power of its followers, but in their love.

Friday, May 29, 2009

Anima Aeterna

So the thought occurred to me that one thing that most monotheistic faiths lack is a sense of the whatever comes before this life.
Of course that comes from the simple fact that as being travelers on this journey we call life,we are far more concerned with where we're going than where we're coming from. However, faiths such as Buddhism, Hinduism, and Mormonism all provide explanations of what has come before. Socrates provided an explanation, as well, as did Vergil in the Aeneid.
I have to wonder, then, why it is that Judaism, Christianity and Islam does not seem to put such emphasis on this facet of our faith.Truly, if we claim that the soul is eternal, per Aquinas, then we have to ask where we came from.

I suppose this is a good opportunity to examine the case for eternality. Does eternality mean an infinite amount of time on both sides? Is eternity more like a geometric line or a ray? Does something eternal have a beginning or has it always existed?
Suppose we say that something is eternal. Therefore, it necessarily has an infinite amount of existence. Thus, it will continue to exist forever and whether or not it was created seems irrelevent because it will always exist. However, if we say it will always exist, this is different than saying it does always exist. If something is created but will never cease to be created once it's created, then we can always measure how long something has been around. On the other hand, if something's existence goes back ad infinitum then we can never say how long it has been around.
What I'm trying to say is this: If everything that is has always existed in some sense, then our souls necessarily have always existed in some sense. But, if we believe that at some point everything was created, then our souls were created as well. Simply because Newtonian laws dictate that everything that is will always be in some form or another does not mean that it always has been.
Here's the conundrum: if our souls have not always been around, how can we be sure that they will always exist? And if they were not created at some point, how can we say that our God is all powerful?
Perhaps this is the reason why monotheism has never addressed this issue. Buddhists have no real concept of an all-powerful God, therefore omnipotence isn't an issue. Hindus have a group of gods that work in concert, but none of them are all powerful either. The gods of the Greeks and Romans were little more than super-powered human beings. And Mormons' concept of divinity rings like a combination of monotheism with the Olympian gods, by which method humans can become gods and God himself is limited in the heavens.
Thus, the idea of our souls existing since forever seems to be absent from those who believe in a god who has all power in the universe.

Saturday, May 23, 2009

Quid Homo?

Several things recently have called me to ponder what it means to be human. Apparently this is Darwin's 200 year birthday and 150 year anniversary of his famous voyage on the HMS Beagle. And President Obama's visit to the Notre Dame campus to deliver a graduation speech called the issue of human life into question. Additionally, certain movies as of recent have made me ponder what it is to be human.
It seems that humans have always pondered our being. The writers of the Bible viewed humans as the culmination of God's creation, even as being in the image of God. Greek philosophers pondered what separates us from the animals via the virtues. The Hindus and Buddhists believed that the human form was the highest form our souls could take and the only one by which we could ascend to Nirvana. Jesus refers to God as our father. Athanasius says we are made in the image and likeness of God. Thomas Aquinas refers to man as the rational animal.
Today the question is even more relevant. Genetic research shows us that we are only separated from apes by a fraction of our DNA pattern. But beyond this, the ethical problems of science denote how we conceive of the human person. Stem cell research is highly controversial. Cloning is taboo and certain medical operations are viewed as wrong.
Despite all the efforts modern scientific thought uses to show that human kind is not special, it is clear that most people don't believe that. It is as Pope John Paul II said when he declared that the Darwinian formula does not account for the sacredness of human kind. We all believe, deep down inside of us, that human beings are something greater than bags of flesh. We strive to accomplish great feats. We seek to demonstrate our individuality, our uniqueness, our special essence that identifies us as being a separate specie of the human genus. We write books, paint portraits, film movies, build towers and monuments. We seek to know everything. We look to the skies and ponder the vastness of space. We look inside of us and ponder the human mind and body. We traverse the oceans, deserts, jungles and plains detailing the vegetation and animals we discover. We markedly separate ourselves from the rest of the animal kingdom by the vast intellectual, emotional, creative and spiritual quests we undertake.
It seems to me that most of humanity has conceived of humans as being composed of at least a soul and a body. The Greeks viewed the highest part of the soul, the Logos, as the part that lived on past life. The Romans viewed the Anima as separate from the Corpus and the Spiritus, and the part that makes us who we are. Christians view the body and soul as parts of a whole person. Buddhists and Hindus view bodies as temporal but our essence as existing afterward. Even today, we speak of perhaps being "spiritual" but not "religious."
Even in our horror we can note how the body and soul are necessary parts of the person. From time immemorial we have been frightened of disembodied spirits. Vampires, on the other hand, are soulless bodies. Other undead, such as Frankenstein's Monster, mummies and zombies are also soulless bodies. In traditional horror (as of late, horror has focused more on the grotesque and disordered rather than on the genuinely unholy) the villain has always been some unholy, fractured human.
However, lately, there seems to have been a question as to whether or not this is legitimate. Alasdair MacIntyre suggests that during the Englightenment we lost the idea of having a purpose, a telos, for our morals. However, the philosophers of that time failed to explain adequately why we would have universal laws. For all the trying, they never fully explained to what end humans are moving. Here I feel the famous pseudo-theologian C. S. Lewis' explanation of a natural law that denotes a God comes into play. All humans have inside of us a something that pushes us toward universal ends. We all have similar morals, similar goals, similar emotions for similar things. We all have souls that guide and direct us.
Thus, I have concluded that the human is not a simple body. We are not merely animals. We are not a rung on the ladder of evolution. We are the culmination of all things. We all have inside of us an essence, a great something that distinguishes us from every other creature. Our minds and thoughts, our drives and inklings, and our very selves are distinct and unique.

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Post mortem (Eschatology part 1)

I will first admit that I do not have any hidden knowledge about the "hereafter." Like a good Christian, I believe that there is a glorious afterlife in store for us as part of God's Grace. However, whether this will literally be in the clouds or rather some other, noncorporeal setting, I don't know.
What intrigues me, though, is that there have been so many different accounts of the afterlife. Dante presents a three leveled system that many Catholics hold to today. Many Christians today imagine "heaven" as a place in the clouds. Buddhists and Hindus believe in reincarnation--for the Buddhists until one reaches Nirvana. Muslims and Jews hold to a similar afterlife experience as Christians do, one in which we dwell with God. Mormons believe that eventually they may become like God (a topic for another day).
But we have not held on, for time imemorial, to the idea of a glorious and perfect dwelling with God. In the Old Testament, the afterlife is referred to as Sheol. Eventually, as seen in Luke 16:19-28, the idea that we could dwell with exalted relatives started to emerge. Similarly, in the ancient Greek and Roman system, the Elysian Fields came far after the idea of Hades.
There's where we run into the peculiar thing. For some reason, accounts of suffering and torture are more prominent in our ideas of the afterlife than of glory. The Egyptian Book of the Dead proscribes all sorts of punishments that can befall one's soul if one is not absolutely careful on the way to the underworld. Dante's Inferno is far more popular than Il Purgatorio or Il Paradiso. Even in Norse myth, the realm of Hel is solely devoted to punishing souls while the valiant only get a hall in the vast kingdom of Asgard.
From these facts I gather two observations. The first is that mankind has almost always believed in A) a soul and B) its eternality. Even in the most ancient Epic of Gilgamesh, an afterlife is described (though many scholars believe it to be an addendum to the original text). After we have finished our existence here, we go on to still exist. It is as if, like Pascal says, we are afraid of being hurled into non-existence. Man cannot bear the thought that at some future date he will not exist. Hence, we live our lives as if we will live forever. We amass fortunes that we can never spend. We put events off indefinitely. We trash our bodies as if they're indestructible. Man cannot bear to even dwell on the thought that there isn't something after this without falling into utter despair.
This is what confuses me about atheism. How can atheists really hope for becoming a nonentity? The greatest one can hope for, at that point, is to attain the kind of fame that men like Homer, Cicero, Socrates and Vergil have attained--fame that spans the eons. However, in a world with a population ove six billion, this is more of a pipe dream than any kind of reality. Really, our sole source of hope lies in having something to look forward to once this is done.
The second thing that I observe is that mankind assumes more often than not that he (or at least his enemies) will inherit an eternal punishment. Hell, Hades, Sheol, Hel, Outer Darkness or a lesser reincarnation--all of these stand as unfavorable destinies, some of which are unavoidable (most likely because we are corrupt and sinful) and others of which are inherited because of our infidelity. We get what we earn. For some reason, man cannot either escape the idea of being eternally punished, just as he cannot escape the idea of nonentity.
The implications of this problem are easy enough to solve. Catholicism (viz Vatican II), Buddhism, Hinduism, Mormonism (to a certain extent) and most ecumenically-minded people all agree that good works will grant you happiness in the hereafter. So, the logical conclusion would be to take on a two-fold effort: first, to conduct good works; and second, to follow Pascal's wager and have faith in a god.