This is a true story of something amazing that happened recently when I was hiking in the Peak District and God showed up and powerfully spoke to me. It is a day I will never forget. I pray that God may bless and speak to you as you read it and that you too may come to an understanding of His overwhelming grace.
Tuesday 24th August and I was out in the Derbyshire Peak District (Edale to be precise) with the aim of getting some decent hill walking in before the, already dismal, summer came to an end. The weather was quite poor by the time I set off and the increasingly strong wind and rain buffeted against me with mounting violence. But I carried on unperturbed; I had my waterproofs and, at any rate, the harsh conditions were sure to ease off before too long.
Being alone and in a relatively quiet and secluded place I seized this as a perfect opportunity to spend some time in prayer. I knew this particular footpath well (or so I thought) having trodden it countless times before and so, as I strode doggedly forward, head down against the wind, I began my (entirely one sided) conversation with God. I rattled on about numerous issues I felt the need to get off my chest, not least of which was the matter of my life’s direction. Of late, it’d been a subject of increasing prevalence in my prayers owing to a number of minor instances and musings (which I will not go into now) that have caused me to pause for thought. In any case, as I lifted these words to my Father in Heaven I could have had no idea of either the speed in which He would respond or the dramatic fashion in which He would choose to do so!
Contrary to my initially optimistic predictions, the higher my footpath ascended the worse the weather seemed to become. By now the thick grey clouds that had been resting on the peaks ahead began to roll in and visibility grew increasingly poor. Presently, I reached a farm where the footpath split. I was quite sure that the route I needed lay straight ahead and so, pulling my hood tighter up around my head, I ploughed on, across a road, over a stile and onto another footpath. Despite walking this route on many previous occasions, this current leg of the journey didn’t appear at all familiar and I soon became, more than a little, convinced that this might not actually be the right path.
Of course, what I should have done at this point was to stop, consult the map in my rucksack and navigate my way back on track. But I didn’t. It was raining very heavily now and the thought of stopping and studying a map, let alone backtracking and prolonging my route seemed quite an unappealing one. “Anyway,” I concluded, “this path looks like it’s headed in roughly the right sort of direction. Ten to one it’ll join up with the footpath I’d actually wanted anyway. It might even be a short-cut!” And, of course, the more I said this to myself, the more I began to be convinced by it. Before long I had become certain, in my own mind at least, that if I just kept persevering along this, now quite narrow, footpath and up to the top of the peak where it seemed to be headed, I’d recognise where I was and all would be well.
By this point the footpath had become really quite treacherous and the higher it ascended, the narrower and more precarious it seemed to be. The heavy rains during the past few days meant that, what were once tranquil, streams ebbing their way down the hillside, were now gushing rivers – quite deep in places – rushing down into the valley from which I had come. What made the situation worse was that many of them seemed to have all but engulfed entire sections of the footpath meaning that, before long, I was gingerly picking my way across make shift-stepping stones, trying not to fall in (and failing on several occasions). I’d climbed high enough now as to be entering into the low lying puffy white and grey clouds that were the cause of all this torrential rain. The annoyance posed by the rain, however, soon took a definite back seat as I realised that, owing to the misty conditions, I could scarcely see more than a few yards in front of me. Despite this, I eventually succeeded in reaching the top of whatever peak it was I’d been climbing and I surveyed what little I could make out of the landscape. It didn’t seem all that familiar. However, there was a footpath and, again, I convinced myself that if only I were to follow that path it would surely lead to somewhere I would recognise or else a signpost or something of use! The path seemed to stretch on forever, twisting round and round and up and down; across streams and over rocky outcrops growing momentarily wider and then narrower again and less and less pronounced, until eventually (although it took some time before I’d admit it to myself) it disappeared altogether.
I looked around. I was in the middle of a barren wasteland of soggy peat bogs, divided only by an occasional clump of moorland heather and a whole network of tributaries flowing...somewhere. For as far as I could see (and that wasn’t very far at all) the landscape appeared identical in all directions. There were no features to speak of that may have aided my bearings, no other people that I could make out and, worst of all, no footpath whatsoever. Stubbornly however, I kept going straight ahead, hoping I would find something (although by now my hope was beginning to wane) and, as I walked, I prayed. I asked God, politely at first, to help me; please would He give me some sort of clue, some indication of where I was or where I needed to be heading? Nothing. Alright then, would He at least provide a momentary break in the weather; a lifting of the cloud cover so that my journey might be slightly more manageable? The mist seemed to become thicker and the rain heavier.
I began to panic.
I knew this area of the Peak District well enough to know that these vast expanses of, seemingly, desolate peat moorlands can often stretch on for miles and miles and attempting to navigate oneself through them is, at the best of times, difficult and with no footpath, poor visibility and absolutely no sense of direction it becomes all but impossible. I could spend hours simply walking round in circles and not be aware of it. What had started out as mild concern was growing, increasingly, into genuine fear. I imagined spending a night in this bleak abyss and wondered how, or if, I’d survive. Despite being August, it was already quite cold and I was wet from the rain and thoroughly miserable. I tried to imagine how I’d even attempt to describe my location to Mountain Rescue or how they’d ever hope to find me shrouded, as I was, in this dense cloud.
I began to curse God for seemingly abandoning me to my fate and I shouted angrily at the heavens, deploring “The Almighty” for His vindictive silence. If God ever had been in my life, clearly, He had chosen this opportune moment to make His departure. I felt utterly alone.
I then did something that, for me, is most uncharacteristic both when hiking and, indeed more generally, in life. I did a u-turn and began to walk back in, what I hoped was, the direction I had come. I wasn’t overly optimistic of my chances but, I concluded, there remained the faintest possibility that I might just be able to find my way back to the footpath I’d been originally following and from there work my way back. Those who know me well will realise what I significant thing this was for me to do. This wasn’t just a strategic change in direction, this was an acknowledgement that I had failed and that there was now no chance of my rescuing either my planned walking route or, more importantly, my pride. No longer would I be able to say that I’d gotten “momentarily lost” but, nevertheless, had succeeded in getting back on track and completing my planned circular trail. Now I would have the personal humiliation and, moreover, the galling physical drudgery of attempting to retrace my steps. That was, of course, assuming I could find my way back.
I must have been walking for no more than ten minutes when, quite suddenly and without warning, the rain stopped. Moments later the thick cloud which had enveloped the landscape in every direction began, gradually, to lift. Then something happened which, at the time and in my state of distress, appeared quite remarkable. A section of clouds, right up ahead and in the direction I was walking, parted, just a little, revealing a small patch of brilliant blue sky and, almost instinctively, I knew what I had to do. I followed it. In time it started to grow bigger and, moments later, the sun (all but invisible until this point) gingerly crawled out into view and showered the, once miserably dull, sky with its warm light.
I was walking on a footpath, although I cannot say from where it appeared and it certainly didn’t seem familiar. I doubted this was the way I had come but that was of no concern now – I simply knew that I had to follow that patch of blue sky, always keeping it straight ahead. And then my heart did a little dance of delight because, sure enough, the path brought me out and onto the edge of a ridge. The mist had all but disappeared now and I could make out my position, quite clearly. I was standing on a plateau, overlooking a large valley over which the sun had rested, illuminating the entire landscape below in an incredible golden glow. Of course, I recognised it. It was the same valley in which the village of Edale –where this epic adventure had begun – was nestled. Indeed, I could make out the small farm buildings and houses that were dotted around its periphery. And right beneath me, not ten minutes climb down the hillside, was a footpath, so wide and so clear that one could have made it out a mile away. This path I certainly did know for it ran parallel to the river which, in turn, snakes its way right into the village itself. I was going to get back after all.
In my delight and relief it took me several moments to realise what had just happened. God had just been speaking to me.
In my rash and emotional state of stubborn pig headedness, I had wrongly concluded that God had deserted me and was maliciously withdrawing His presence to teach me some kind of lesson. How wrong I was. Of course, looking back now, what God was doing seems so blindingly obvious I’m quite ashamed I didn’t realise sooner. He was forcing me to turn around!
Having studied the map since my return and deduced my whereabouts I was, it seems, actually heading away from, not towards, where I needed to be. Had I continued, at best my journey would have been significantly (if not dangerously) prolonged and, at worst, I could have been stranded. It hardly bears thinking about. I see now how imperative it was that I turned around and yet, I fear, had God not made it so impossible for me to otherwise, I would have arrogantly forged ahead – in the wrong direction!
Walking down the valley and into the warmth of the sunshine it slowly began to dawn on me that God had not simply come to my rescue and guided me back to safety from the wilds of Edale Moor. He was telling me something else as well and I could almost hear the words pouring forth from His mouth with, probably, the slightest hint of a suppressed chuckle; though not one that expressed either scorn or contempt but rather the kind of chuckle that a loving father might give after having just watched his precious child trying to be “all grown up” and making an absolute hash of it!
“Jonny,” He seemed to be saying, “You will insist on always doing things you own way won’t you! I do so wish that you’d stop being so obstinate and stubborn all the time and learn that swallowing your pride and admitting defeat isn’t a sign of weakness in my eyes. It’s a sign of wisdom. If only you’d admit that you simply don’t have all the answers and you need My help. If only you’d acknowledge that, for all your efforts, you really don’t know where you’re going so much of the time and you need My direction. If only you’d stop and turn to Me, you’d realise that I, not you, know the way home.”
I walked the couple of miles back to civilisation laughing and crying, almost simultaneously, partially in sorrow and remorse for my own stupidity but, in far greater measure, in wonder and amazement at God’s overwhelming grace.
Wednesday, 25 August 2010
Wednesday, 11 August 2010
Optimum Humanity
“What,” exclaims mankind’s external cry “is my purpose in life?”
It has, of course, been the subject of countless debates and much conjecture: for what end was humanity placed on this rock called Earth? If, indeed, placed we were.
Schools of religiosity, philosophy and science have expended much time and energy searching for this enigmatic and, seemingly, illusive mandate for our species that might aid in rationalising our existence and granting us a clearer sense of what, precisely, it is we ought to be doing during our stay on this mortal coil.
How we came to find ourselves here is perhaps a mystery that few of us will actively seek to concern ourselves with; the enormity of it often proving too burdensome and bewildering for our brains to handle. But WHY we are here – this question would appear to harass and distress us as an irksome spectre until the day we breathe our final breath.
In the interim, we crowd our days with a medley of tasks, chores and assignments: professional occupations, voluntary work, academic studies, short-term sabbaticals, holidays, sporting challenges and the like. We invest ourselves in projects, schemes, families, children, partners and communities. We strive towards wealth, notoriety, acclamation, legacy, discovery, prominence, influence, acceptance and success. And all in a desperate attempt to fabricate, for ourselves, a sense of purpose; a reason to get out of bed each morning; a significance to our otherwise arbitrary existence; a point to our humanity.
Wouldn’t it be tragically comical, therefore, if the answer to this conundrum was so simple, so obvious and so uncomplicated that we’d been staring it right in the face? How both devastating and liberating it would be to discover that the encryption we’d be working so tirelessly to decipher was already written in our own language and already made perfect sense! How seemingly incredible it would seem if the purpose of humanity ... was humanity itself! In other words, our purpose as humans was simply to be human.
But perhaps I’m getting slightly ahead of myself here; after all, we haven’t yet asked the question of what ‘being human’ actually means in the first instance let alone how we can arrive at, apparently, such an audaciously simplistic conclusion concerning humanity’s purpose. Thus to avoid simply settling for a somewhat defeatist resolution, inferring that one simply resigns oneself to a vegetative state of ‘being’ with no appetite for knowledge or enlightenment pertaining to one’s existence, we must necessarily explore, in some depth, firstly the subject of human ontology and secondly the, perhaps more complex, issue of our origins. In other words, what does it mean to be human and where does this meaning derive from?
On this latter point, I am going to assert the craftsmanship of God (that is the God of the Christian faith) over humanity and seek, therein, to explore the creative inspiration for the composition of man as we know him. Aside from my own personal and relational faith in God, I find I am able to rest on such an assertion on the grounds of logical conjecture with evidential reference to the principles of life and existence we observe around us. Such methodology forms the basis of much, if not the majority, of well established scientific thinking – that is, to take an easily observable and well tested principle and apply it to a correspondingly and sufficiently similar, but less well understood, area to reach a probable conclusion. Darwin’s theory of Evolution by Natural Selection is a typical example of this. Sufficient fossil evidence exists in the cases of certain animal species to allow the scientist to draw clear lines of development from a currently existing organism back, perhaps as far as its Jurassic predecessor. The same weight of evidence, of course, does not exist for every species type but, being confident of the evolutionary journey of certain creatures we are able to hypothesise the trajectory of others for whom there exists less evidence and reach, what we deem to be, reasonable conclusions. For the benefit, therefore, of those without a personal faith in the God worshipped by myself and countless others across the globe, I will employ this methodology to aid me in making, what I hope you will come to see as, reasonable and logical (if not provable) claims pertaining to a Creating God and His connection with us.
But I have already exhausted too much time in prologue, so let us proceed to the matter in hand.
What Humanity Is
What does it mean to be human? What are those traits and characteristics that we, as a race, are predisposed towards, that define and unite us? Aside, of course, from our basic biological functions which simply ensure our physical survival, what can be said of our ontological humanity that applies both objectively and universally?
The answer, I assert, is relationship. The art, the yearning and, indeed, the necessity to relate to those with whom we share our existence in time, space, location and context. Whether or not we are conscious of the fact, it, nevertheless, remains the case that inter-personal relationships form the bedrock of human existence both because we desire it, but moreover, because we simply need it.
Whether physically, verbally, interactively or even virtually and in spite of how challenging or problematic some of us may find it to be, we, each of us, instinctively realise our need to relate. Precisely because absolute self-sufficiency is all but humanly impossible, we recognise the paramount importance of interacting with our fellow human beings: trading, exchanging, compromising, assisting, deferring and delegating. One is hard pushed to find a man able to survive on no human contact whatsoever – however minimal or impersonal it may be.
Besides pragmatic necessity, however, it would seem clear that we possess a deep (perhaps spiritual) yearning for human relationship; a deep seated longing for people with which to interface, interact and share, to whatever degree, the, often perplexing and painful, journey of life. Whatever form these take and in whatever volumes we each respectively posses them, the vast majority of us will go to at least some (and often considerable) effort to acquire a set of friends or companions; people with whom we can share our thoughts, our experiences and our fluctuating emotions. For many, that desire for intimacy and interdependence goes deeper still and we seek longer term and more sensual relations of a romantic nature, the ultimate culmination of which is the institution of marriage. But even apart from these deeply intense and precious relationships we appear to see a need for, often more, superficial modes of connection with those around us. Within the contexts of our occupations we endeavour to align ourselves with those we feel are sufficiently similar to ourselves and seek, wherever possible, to establish relational cliques within which we feel secure and understood. Even when such relationships never develop into anything more profound or even permanent we readily engage in them, prepared, at the very least, to exert ourselves in casual small talk or awkward exchanges in order to give ourselves the feeling of being part of something; of being in relationship.
We may frequently emit signals to the contrary, of course, indicating an apparent comfort with exclusion and isolation but, for the most part, this is no more than a self preservation tactic, aimed at protecting our pride and, paradoxically, maintaining our perceived credibility as potential allies! Many have mastered the art of appearing comfortable, even happy, in their isolation, but, given the option, I suspect, few would choose it. In any case, just because a man is satisfied with a particular way of life does not mean he would not swap it in an instant if the opportunity presented itself. Just because humankind is able to exist in a certain way, does not infer that it is the optimum way, much as a rally car is able perform quite adequately being forever driven on main roads at 40mph despite being designed for much tougher terrain and much higher speeds!
However, before becoming engrossed in this subject of optimality, we have still to discuss the issue of human originality which, I trust, will shed further light on what would seem to be mankind’s relational ontology.
Where Humanity Originates
Let us begin, simply, with that which we know to be self evident; namely the biological creation of individual human life forms. Notwithstanding more recent scientific developments in the field of external fertilisation and detracting all modes of modification and interference, be it IVF treatment, contraceptive measures or the like - the creation of human life, at its most primitive, is the product, and therefore the consequence, of perhaps the most absolute form of inter-human relation. I am referring, of course, to sexual intercourse.
Whatever one’s moral or personal stance on the subject of sexual relations, it nevertheless remains the case that this act of two peoples marks a, quite unique, form of inter-personal connection unlike any other. And it is, of course, also the most complex and multi faceted mode of relationship – a reality which many discover both to their joy and, unfortunately, often their great sadness; operating, as it does, not simply on a physical, biological plane but, in perhaps greater measure, emotionally and spiritually also.
To those who maintain that it is possible to, somehow, negate one’s own humanity in the act of sexual intercourse and reduce it to nothing more than a disconnected, biological transaction, I would say only the following: However we may utilise it and whatever moral codes we may impose upon it, the value of sex as a facet of human, relational intimacy is, evidently, very high indeed. If this were not the case, then extra marital, sexual affairs would not only be tolerated but dismissed as trivial and of little consequence. We would not attempt to draw any distinction between sexual intimacy within the context of a loving relationship and its counterpart: lusted-fuelled “one night stands.” Both would be equally inconsequential and devoid of any significance beyond the biological ramifications. In other words, there would be no (however subjective) idea of what constituted “meaningful sex” and therefore no bench mark or point of reference against which to measure, what we clearly hold to be, “cheap” alternatives. We certainly would not presume such a strong correlation between sex and love, as we so obviously do and it would be inconceivable that one could experience deep emotional hurt and even relational destruction as a result of sex. So, let us dispense at once with any notion that sexual intercourse is anything other than an act of complete and unparalleled inter-personal relationship, involving every ounce of our emotional, spiritual and physical humanity.
In such a way, then, we are compelled to the inevitable conclusion that human life itself is a product – a direct consequence of – inter-human relationship. That is to say, that it is the act of persons relating, one to another, that creates the essential ingredients and foundation for the conception and stimulation of new life. Indeed, we might go further and state that only through the most absolute, holistic and exhaustive form of human relation can fresh human life be conceived. In short and to link to the original point, “optimum” relational humanity is the prerequisite for the creation of life.
However, if we may, let us now journey still further along the road of mankind, perhaps even to the very beginning. At this juncture I employ my first piece of conjectural hypothesis in asserting that humanity did indeed have a beginning – that is to say a point of conception, before which it was not – and, consequentially, a creator who fashioned us into being. I make so bold as to assert this, simply owing to the correlating evidence we have readily available to us.
The notion of a living thing, and especially a human being, have, so to speak, no beginning, is one which goes completely contrary to the principles of existence we witness around us. As previously discussed, every human life form has an origin and a point of, if you like, “formation” and, indeed, this is mirrored across nature and the animal kingdom. The idea that humankind might have no beginning – no point at which its collective existence commenced – seems quite ludicrous. Applying the very same principles, therefore, it would only seem sensible to surmise that humanity, as well as being “created” must, necessarily, have had a “creator.” In much the same manner as infant children do not simply “appear” but rather they are the product of reproduction (which itself is an act of creating) so must we assume came the very first our own kind (in whatever form they took).
That agreed, we progress, tentatively, towards the contentious issue of a “creator,” knowing that, therein, must surely lay the very origins of humanity’s ontological composition and, thus, the greatest point of reference for our “optimum” existence.
It would seem only sensible to assume that, if mankind is, at its very core, essentially relational then, so too, must be that which created it. Indeed, the very inherency of mankind’s relational disposition would point to a creator who is, in very nature, relational him, her or it-self. In other words, what we are seeking is a creator who, by very definition, is the absolute embodiment and encapsulation of relationship; a creator who is ontologically, inextricably and absolutely relational.
This, of course, presents us with a problem: how is it possible for a single entity to be, in and of him, her or it-self, so completely relational? Relationship, by very nature, requires multiple parties; it demands that which can be related to. A person simply cannot be relational in complete isolation. He requires, at very least, a frame of reference for relationship; a model of interpersonal relation from which to extrapolate his notion of what it means to relate.
And, herein, lays perhaps the chief undoing of nearly all of humanity’s notions of external deity. That is to say, almost all human constructs of a creator, a god, an external “otherness” - however we wish to describe it – imagine a single, begotten being from whom all life poured forth. All, that is, except the God as depicted in the image of the Holy Trinity, as professed by many who, for the sake of simplicity, we shall label Christians (although I urge you not to be bound by whatever preconceived notions and connotations this title evokes).
Without becoming too caught up in the complexities of Trinitarian theology (sufficient has already been written on this doctrine to last a lifetime) what can be said is that, according to this concept, the Deity (that is God) exists in Three Persons: God the Father (Jehovah), God the Son (Jesus Christ) and God the Spirit (The Holy Spirit). The fullness of the Godhead, therefore, is an absolute relationship between these Three Persons of such a magnitude that they are, in fact, as one. In other words, their relationship, one to another, is so infused with unity, mutual submission, self sacrifice, selflessness and, above all, love, that they exist in a state of constant agreement, interdependence, and a kind of interwoven and harmonious unanimity, the like of which we have never seen, nor will ever see, anywhere else.
Assuming this model is correct, God’s very existence, we must conclude, is determined and defined by his eternal state of internal, triune relationship. He is the very manifestation of what relationship is and means. He is, ultimately, ontologically relational.
This is, of course, where our journey of human exploration ends – or, indeed, begins depending on which direction one takes! What then, may we conclude?
•Humanity posses a predisposed desire and, moreover, a need for inter-human relationship
•Human life is conceived, biologically, as a product of sexual union – the ultimate form of human relationship
•Humanity, as a whole, was created by One who, in His very nature, is the absolute and defining manifestation of relationship.
Clearly we are afforded no alternative option but to concede to the reality that has been starring us in the face for so long: to be human is to be relational! Humanity and relationship are inextricably and inseparably linked. Naturally, inherently, essentially, ontologically, we are beings of relationship, pure and simple.
The Implication
What importance or relevance does this revelation have to us, beyond, perhaps, a temporal, though elated, sense of increased self awareness?
Perhaps, now is the appropriate juncture to return, having journeyed full circle, to our starting point; the seemingly so enigmatic conundrum that ignited this whole debate: what is humanity’s purpose?
It seems, on reflection, a somewhat peculiar question to pose; to discuss one’s own ontological mandate as a human being! From whence have we perceived this notion? What I mean to say is, one does not find, for example, a tree questioning its purpose as a tree or a dog questioning the end to which it has been placed on the earth! These may appear ridiculous examples, but the point I wish to stress is this: at least where living things are concerned, if not universally, the purpose, the mandate of a thing is to be, no more and no less than itself. Indeed, its purpose is most fulfilled when it is most fully, most absolutely, most uncompromisingly and most unapologetically itself! A tree is at its best when it does what it was designed to do: to grow and flourish and produce fruit.
The same, then, must surely apply to the human race. Our purpose as humans, is to be human. Again: our purpose as humans is to be human. And to be human, as it were, to optimum capacity; manifesting every ounce of our ontological humanity (that is, our relational inherency) without hindrance, hesitation, negation or dilution. This is optimum humanity.
What, then, has gone so badly wrong?
I say this because, but a brief glance at the society in which we live reveals the distressing reality that humanity, at large, is in a state of almost utter brokenness. In a callous and sweeping rejection of our most inherent and encoded human dispositions - the very essence and core of our collective selves - we have traded the riches of our humanity for an artificially manufactured counterfeit, and the cost is proving dear indeed. We have traded community for isolation, relationship for mere association, honesty for falsity, vulnerability for superficiality and interdependence for an autonomous self sufficiency breeding selfishness, greed, mistrust and competition of the ugliest kind imaginable. One might even go so far as to conclude that we have rejected the very idea of humanity itself. Put like that, the matter suddenly becomes one of quite pressing concern.
For a more detailed and in-depth exploration into some of the precise ways in which, I certainly feel, humanity is recoiling into, what I can only describe as, an unbearable pit of disconnection and seclusion, you can read my blog entitled “Splendid Isolation?”
I do, however, wish to pay particular focus to, what I believe is, perhaps the most distressing consequence of our denunciation of self, that is the tragedy of unfulfilled relationships and, it’s resulting counterpart, loneliness.
At some point in our collective history, so it would seem, mankind has succumbed to the lie that dependency, of any sort, be it emotional, financial, provisional etc. is a thing most undesirable and to be avoided or escaped from at almost any cost. Now it is important here that I make my position quite clear: I am not advocating irresponsibility. What I am not proposing is the kind of dependency where one party absolves themselves of all liability, initiative or free thought. That would lead to disempowerment, abusiveness and, quite frankly, laziness and therefore something we ought to be adamantly opposed to. No, what I am arguing for is a kind of interdependency within human relationships that speaks of our need for each other. Because that, of course, is the crux if the matter: we need each other! The problem, it would appear, is that rather than embracing that facet of our humanity and doing ourselves the service of actually responding to, what is so obviously, a somewhat crucial aspect of our ontological composition, we have, rather, exhausted almost all of our collective energy in negating it as much as possible! It would be highly comical if it were not true. As it is, it is tragically heartbreaking.
A much needed starting point in any reformation process, would be the simple acceptance of our inherent and overwhelming need for human intimacy, love and relationship. Understand here, that I am not referring, exclusively, to human relations of a romantic nature. These, of course, are of great value and, in a whole host of ways, quite distinct from plutonic relationships, but they should not claim a monopoly of human intimacy and interdependency. Nor, incidentally, should such relationships be viewed as expected or mandatory, with those choosing to remain single somehow classified as lesser mortals as so often seems the case. In truth, it is often those without romantic ties that prove the better practitioners of relationships in a plutonic context – probably because they have not fallen into the trap of becoming so fixated on one person to the detriment of the countless others! My point is that these characteristics of relationship I am taking such pains to articulate, ought , to one degree or other, be features of most, if not all, of our human relationships.
My perception, both from personal experience but, furthermore, in observing that of others, is that, for the most part, we yearn more than anything for our relationships to be characterised by that depth of connection, honesty, authenticity and intimacy but, crucially, we are, simultaneously, terrified of both the possible implications of this and, moreover, the necessary sacrifices of pride, self sufficiency and emotional detachment that will, surely, be incurred. Not that we have any particular love for these negative attributes with which we have cloaked ourselves; it is rather that they provide us with a familiar veil of security – a safety blanket, a layer of bubble-wrap enabling us to avoid the sort of pain, complication and loss of face that, we conclude, are the inevitable consequences of dropping one’s guard. And so we don’t. The drawbridge remains up, the hatches battened, the shutters down. It’s lonely and its cold but, we re-assure ourselves, the alternative is too costly. This, then, is the lesser of two evils and, thus, the best we can ever hope for. I doubt, very much, that we actually believe this myth, but we, nevertheless, tell ourselves that we do until, over time, we discover we’ve resigned ourselves to this mediocre status quo and we ought to simply make the best of it.
Again, if I might be permitted here to momentarily inject a point of clarity. Clearly, absolute personal vulnerability when universally applied is neither healthy, nor appropriate! I am certainly not proposing a complete ‘access all areas’ mentality of unveiling all one’s inmost privacies and laying oneself totally bare and vulnerable at the feet of every passerby! Quite obviously, caution must be exercised and responsibility both for one’s own emotional well being but also that of others. As such, different degrees of intimacy will be proper for different relationships and there can be no ‘one size fits all’ model. All that understood and notwithstanding the need for wisdom and discernment in one’s conducting of relationships, the point nevertheless stands that intimacy, honesty and emotional authenticity remains the essential, but all too often missing, ingredient in our human relationships.
The chief reason, then, for our denial of the riches of our relational humanity is one of self preservation. Preservation of reputation, of emotional stability, of pride and, if we are truly honest, of those aspects of ourselves we would rather remained undiscovered and under-wraps! Underlying all this, I strongly suspect, is a paralysing fear of judgement and rejection. Remove one’s armour and one’s weakness and vulnerability is exposed and one risks being stabbed. Better then, we concede, to be safe, not sorry!
If self preservation is the primary cause of unfulfilled human relationships, then the second is closely linked and it is the belief that human interdependency and intimacy, of the kind I am speaking of here, are unreasonable expectations to impose on those other parties with whom we are in relationship. The presentation of our vulnerabilities and weaknesses to our fellow humans is, we conclude, too great an imposition. The articulation of our absolute need for their intimacy must surely be too great a burden to ask them to carry.
Thus, we concede, the kind of relationship that we so greatly crave requires too unreasonable a demand on both ourselves and on others.
And this, regrettably, is the point of conclusion for many who have battled with this agonizing issue of the human condition. It is, of course, a most lonely road to walk but, I suppose, if one doesn’t dwell on it too frequently and provides oneself with sufficient distractions it is, at least, bearable.
Of course, there is always the alternative. For those prepared to swallow their pride, make themselves vulnerable, risk undoing their reputation and upsetting their well preserved emotional sensibilities there does exist another way. For those courageous enough to be so honestly audacious as to admit the truth of our humanity: that we desperately, desperately need each other, that we are unspeakably lonely in our self inflicted isolation and that we crave, deep within our souls, the kind of relationship we feel sure we were created and put on this Earth for. To those few there remains the path of optimum humanity and therein, I truly believe, may we even see a glimpse of God Himself.
It has, of course, been the subject of countless debates and much conjecture: for what end was humanity placed on this rock called Earth? If, indeed, placed we were.
Schools of religiosity, philosophy and science have expended much time and energy searching for this enigmatic and, seemingly, illusive mandate for our species that might aid in rationalising our existence and granting us a clearer sense of what, precisely, it is we ought to be doing during our stay on this mortal coil.
How we came to find ourselves here is perhaps a mystery that few of us will actively seek to concern ourselves with; the enormity of it often proving too burdensome and bewildering for our brains to handle. But WHY we are here – this question would appear to harass and distress us as an irksome spectre until the day we breathe our final breath.
In the interim, we crowd our days with a medley of tasks, chores and assignments: professional occupations, voluntary work, academic studies, short-term sabbaticals, holidays, sporting challenges and the like. We invest ourselves in projects, schemes, families, children, partners and communities. We strive towards wealth, notoriety, acclamation, legacy, discovery, prominence, influence, acceptance and success. And all in a desperate attempt to fabricate, for ourselves, a sense of purpose; a reason to get out of bed each morning; a significance to our otherwise arbitrary existence; a point to our humanity.
Wouldn’t it be tragically comical, therefore, if the answer to this conundrum was so simple, so obvious and so uncomplicated that we’d been staring it right in the face? How both devastating and liberating it would be to discover that the encryption we’d be working so tirelessly to decipher was already written in our own language and already made perfect sense! How seemingly incredible it would seem if the purpose of humanity ... was humanity itself! In other words, our purpose as humans was simply to be human.
But perhaps I’m getting slightly ahead of myself here; after all, we haven’t yet asked the question of what ‘being human’ actually means in the first instance let alone how we can arrive at, apparently, such an audaciously simplistic conclusion concerning humanity’s purpose. Thus to avoid simply settling for a somewhat defeatist resolution, inferring that one simply resigns oneself to a vegetative state of ‘being’ with no appetite for knowledge or enlightenment pertaining to one’s existence, we must necessarily explore, in some depth, firstly the subject of human ontology and secondly the, perhaps more complex, issue of our origins. In other words, what does it mean to be human and where does this meaning derive from?
On this latter point, I am going to assert the craftsmanship of God (that is the God of the Christian faith) over humanity and seek, therein, to explore the creative inspiration for the composition of man as we know him. Aside from my own personal and relational faith in God, I find I am able to rest on such an assertion on the grounds of logical conjecture with evidential reference to the principles of life and existence we observe around us. Such methodology forms the basis of much, if not the majority, of well established scientific thinking – that is, to take an easily observable and well tested principle and apply it to a correspondingly and sufficiently similar, but less well understood, area to reach a probable conclusion. Darwin’s theory of Evolution by Natural Selection is a typical example of this. Sufficient fossil evidence exists in the cases of certain animal species to allow the scientist to draw clear lines of development from a currently existing organism back, perhaps as far as its Jurassic predecessor. The same weight of evidence, of course, does not exist for every species type but, being confident of the evolutionary journey of certain creatures we are able to hypothesise the trajectory of others for whom there exists less evidence and reach, what we deem to be, reasonable conclusions. For the benefit, therefore, of those without a personal faith in the God worshipped by myself and countless others across the globe, I will employ this methodology to aid me in making, what I hope you will come to see as, reasonable and logical (if not provable) claims pertaining to a Creating God and His connection with us.
But I have already exhausted too much time in prologue, so let us proceed to the matter in hand.
What Humanity Is
What does it mean to be human? What are those traits and characteristics that we, as a race, are predisposed towards, that define and unite us? Aside, of course, from our basic biological functions which simply ensure our physical survival, what can be said of our ontological humanity that applies both objectively and universally?
The answer, I assert, is relationship. The art, the yearning and, indeed, the necessity to relate to those with whom we share our existence in time, space, location and context. Whether or not we are conscious of the fact, it, nevertheless, remains the case that inter-personal relationships form the bedrock of human existence both because we desire it, but moreover, because we simply need it.
Whether physically, verbally, interactively or even virtually and in spite of how challenging or problematic some of us may find it to be, we, each of us, instinctively realise our need to relate. Precisely because absolute self-sufficiency is all but humanly impossible, we recognise the paramount importance of interacting with our fellow human beings: trading, exchanging, compromising, assisting, deferring and delegating. One is hard pushed to find a man able to survive on no human contact whatsoever – however minimal or impersonal it may be.
Besides pragmatic necessity, however, it would seem clear that we possess a deep (perhaps spiritual) yearning for human relationship; a deep seated longing for people with which to interface, interact and share, to whatever degree, the, often perplexing and painful, journey of life. Whatever form these take and in whatever volumes we each respectively posses them, the vast majority of us will go to at least some (and often considerable) effort to acquire a set of friends or companions; people with whom we can share our thoughts, our experiences and our fluctuating emotions. For many, that desire for intimacy and interdependence goes deeper still and we seek longer term and more sensual relations of a romantic nature, the ultimate culmination of which is the institution of marriage. But even apart from these deeply intense and precious relationships we appear to see a need for, often more, superficial modes of connection with those around us. Within the contexts of our occupations we endeavour to align ourselves with those we feel are sufficiently similar to ourselves and seek, wherever possible, to establish relational cliques within which we feel secure and understood. Even when such relationships never develop into anything more profound or even permanent we readily engage in them, prepared, at the very least, to exert ourselves in casual small talk or awkward exchanges in order to give ourselves the feeling of being part of something; of being in relationship.
We may frequently emit signals to the contrary, of course, indicating an apparent comfort with exclusion and isolation but, for the most part, this is no more than a self preservation tactic, aimed at protecting our pride and, paradoxically, maintaining our perceived credibility as potential allies! Many have mastered the art of appearing comfortable, even happy, in their isolation, but, given the option, I suspect, few would choose it. In any case, just because a man is satisfied with a particular way of life does not mean he would not swap it in an instant if the opportunity presented itself. Just because humankind is able to exist in a certain way, does not infer that it is the optimum way, much as a rally car is able perform quite adequately being forever driven on main roads at 40mph despite being designed for much tougher terrain and much higher speeds!
However, before becoming engrossed in this subject of optimality, we have still to discuss the issue of human originality which, I trust, will shed further light on what would seem to be mankind’s relational ontology.
Where Humanity Originates
Let us begin, simply, with that which we know to be self evident; namely the biological creation of individual human life forms. Notwithstanding more recent scientific developments in the field of external fertilisation and detracting all modes of modification and interference, be it IVF treatment, contraceptive measures or the like - the creation of human life, at its most primitive, is the product, and therefore the consequence, of perhaps the most absolute form of inter-human relation. I am referring, of course, to sexual intercourse.
Whatever one’s moral or personal stance on the subject of sexual relations, it nevertheless remains the case that this act of two peoples marks a, quite unique, form of inter-personal connection unlike any other. And it is, of course, also the most complex and multi faceted mode of relationship – a reality which many discover both to their joy and, unfortunately, often their great sadness; operating, as it does, not simply on a physical, biological plane but, in perhaps greater measure, emotionally and spiritually also.
To those who maintain that it is possible to, somehow, negate one’s own humanity in the act of sexual intercourse and reduce it to nothing more than a disconnected, biological transaction, I would say only the following: However we may utilise it and whatever moral codes we may impose upon it, the value of sex as a facet of human, relational intimacy is, evidently, very high indeed. If this were not the case, then extra marital, sexual affairs would not only be tolerated but dismissed as trivial and of little consequence. We would not attempt to draw any distinction between sexual intimacy within the context of a loving relationship and its counterpart: lusted-fuelled “one night stands.” Both would be equally inconsequential and devoid of any significance beyond the biological ramifications. In other words, there would be no (however subjective) idea of what constituted “meaningful sex” and therefore no bench mark or point of reference against which to measure, what we clearly hold to be, “cheap” alternatives. We certainly would not presume such a strong correlation between sex and love, as we so obviously do and it would be inconceivable that one could experience deep emotional hurt and even relational destruction as a result of sex. So, let us dispense at once with any notion that sexual intercourse is anything other than an act of complete and unparalleled inter-personal relationship, involving every ounce of our emotional, spiritual and physical humanity.
In such a way, then, we are compelled to the inevitable conclusion that human life itself is a product – a direct consequence of – inter-human relationship. That is to say, that it is the act of persons relating, one to another, that creates the essential ingredients and foundation for the conception and stimulation of new life. Indeed, we might go further and state that only through the most absolute, holistic and exhaustive form of human relation can fresh human life be conceived. In short and to link to the original point, “optimum” relational humanity is the prerequisite for the creation of life.
However, if we may, let us now journey still further along the road of mankind, perhaps even to the very beginning. At this juncture I employ my first piece of conjectural hypothesis in asserting that humanity did indeed have a beginning – that is to say a point of conception, before which it was not – and, consequentially, a creator who fashioned us into being. I make so bold as to assert this, simply owing to the correlating evidence we have readily available to us.
The notion of a living thing, and especially a human being, have, so to speak, no beginning, is one which goes completely contrary to the principles of existence we witness around us. As previously discussed, every human life form has an origin and a point of, if you like, “formation” and, indeed, this is mirrored across nature and the animal kingdom. The idea that humankind might have no beginning – no point at which its collective existence commenced – seems quite ludicrous. Applying the very same principles, therefore, it would only seem sensible to surmise that humanity, as well as being “created” must, necessarily, have had a “creator.” In much the same manner as infant children do not simply “appear” but rather they are the product of reproduction (which itself is an act of creating) so must we assume came the very first our own kind (in whatever form they took).
That agreed, we progress, tentatively, towards the contentious issue of a “creator,” knowing that, therein, must surely lay the very origins of humanity’s ontological composition and, thus, the greatest point of reference for our “optimum” existence.
It would seem only sensible to assume that, if mankind is, at its very core, essentially relational then, so too, must be that which created it. Indeed, the very inherency of mankind’s relational disposition would point to a creator who is, in very nature, relational him, her or it-self. In other words, what we are seeking is a creator who, by very definition, is the absolute embodiment and encapsulation of relationship; a creator who is ontologically, inextricably and absolutely relational.
This, of course, presents us with a problem: how is it possible for a single entity to be, in and of him, her or it-self, so completely relational? Relationship, by very nature, requires multiple parties; it demands that which can be related to. A person simply cannot be relational in complete isolation. He requires, at very least, a frame of reference for relationship; a model of interpersonal relation from which to extrapolate his notion of what it means to relate.
And, herein, lays perhaps the chief undoing of nearly all of humanity’s notions of external deity. That is to say, almost all human constructs of a creator, a god, an external “otherness” - however we wish to describe it – imagine a single, begotten being from whom all life poured forth. All, that is, except the God as depicted in the image of the Holy Trinity, as professed by many who, for the sake of simplicity, we shall label Christians (although I urge you not to be bound by whatever preconceived notions and connotations this title evokes).
Without becoming too caught up in the complexities of Trinitarian theology (sufficient has already been written on this doctrine to last a lifetime) what can be said is that, according to this concept, the Deity (that is God) exists in Three Persons: God the Father (Jehovah), God the Son (Jesus Christ) and God the Spirit (The Holy Spirit). The fullness of the Godhead, therefore, is an absolute relationship between these Three Persons of such a magnitude that they are, in fact, as one. In other words, their relationship, one to another, is so infused with unity, mutual submission, self sacrifice, selflessness and, above all, love, that they exist in a state of constant agreement, interdependence, and a kind of interwoven and harmonious unanimity, the like of which we have never seen, nor will ever see, anywhere else.
Assuming this model is correct, God’s very existence, we must conclude, is determined and defined by his eternal state of internal, triune relationship. He is the very manifestation of what relationship is and means. He is, ultimately, ontologically relational.
This is, of course, where our journey of human exploration ends – or, indeed, begins depending on which direction one takes! What then, may we conclude?
•Humanity posses a predisposed desire and, moreover, a need for inter-human relationship
•Human life is conceived, biologically, as a product of sexual union – the ultimate form of human relationship
•Humanity, as a whole, was created by One who, in His very nature, is the absolute and defining manifestation of relationship.
Clearly we are afforded no alternative option but to concede to the reality that has been starring us in the face for so long: to be human is to be relational! Humanity and relationship are inextricably and inseparably linked. Naturally, inherently, essentially, ontologically, we are beings of relationship, pure and simple.
The Implication
What importance or relevance does this revelation have to us, beyond, perhaps, a temporal, though elated, sense of increased self awareness?
Perhaps, now is the appropriate juncture to return, having journeyed full circle, to our starting point; the seemingly so enigmatic conundrum that ignited this whole debate: what is humanity’s purpose?
It seems, on reflection, a somewhat peculiar question to pose; to discuss one’s own ontological mandate as a human being! From whence have we perceived this notion? What I mean to say is, one does not find, for example, a tree questioning its purpose as a tree or a dog questioning the end to which it has been placed on the earth! These may appear ridiculous examples, but the point I wish to stress is this: at least where living things are concerned, if not universally, the purpose, the mandate of a thing is to be, no more and no less than itself. Indeed, its purpose is most fulfilled when it is most fully, most absolutely, most uncompromisingly and most unapologetically itself! A tree is at its best when it does what it was designed to do: to grow and flourish and produce fruit.
The same, then, must surely apply to the human race. Our purpose as humans, is to be human. Again: our purpose as humans is to be human. And to be human, as it were, to optimum capacity; manifesting every ounce of our ontological humanity (that is, our relational inherency) without hindrance, hesitation, negation or dilution. This is optimum humanity.
What, then, has gone so badly wrong?
I say this because, but a brief glance at the society in which we live reveals the distressing reality that humanity, at large, is in a state of almost utter brokenness. In a callous and sweeping rejection of our most inherent and encoded human dispositions - the very essence and core of our collective selves - we have traded the riches of our humanity for an artificially manufactured counterfeit, and the cost is proving dear indeed. We have traded community for isolation, relationship for mere association, honesty for falsity, vulnerability for superficiality and interdependence for an autonomous self sufficiency breeding selfishness, greed, mistrust and competition of the ugliest kind imaginable. One might even go so far as to conclude that we have rejected the very idea of humanity itself. Put like that, the matter suddenly becomes one of quite pressing concern.
For a more detailed and in-depth exploration into some of the precise ways in which, I certainly feel, humanity is recoiling into, what I can only describe as, an unbearable pit of disconnection and seclusion, you can read my blog entitled “Splendid Isolation?”
I do, however, wish to pay particular focus to, what I believe is, perhaps the most distressing consequence of our denunciation of self, that is the tragedy of unfulfilled relationships and, it’s resulting counterpart, loneliness.
At some point in our collective history, so it would seem, mankind has succumbed to the lie that dependency, of any sort, be it emotional, financial, provisional etc. is a thing most undesirable and to be avoided or escaped from at almost any cost. Now it is important here that I make my position quite clear: I am not advocating irresponsibility. What I am not proposing is the kind of dependency where one party absolves themselves of all liability, initiative or free thought. That would lead to disempowerment, abusiveness and, quite frankly, laziness and therefore something we ought to be adamantly opposed to. No, what I am arguing for is a kind of interdependency within human relationships that speaks of our need for each other. Because that, of course, is the crux if the matter: we need each other! The problem, it would appear, is that rather than embracing that facet of our humanity and doing ourselves the service of actually responding to, what is so obviously, a somewhat crucial aspect of our ontological composition, we have, rather, exhausted almost all of our collective energy in negating it as much as possible! It would be highly comical if it were not true. As it is, it is tragically heartbreaking.
A much needed starting point in any reformation process, would be the simple acceptance of our inherent and overwhelming need for human intimacy, love and relationship. Understand here, that I am not referring, exclusively, to human relations of a romantic nature. These, of course, are of great value and, in a whole host of ways, quite distinct from plutonic relationships, but they should not claim a monopoly of human intimacy and interdependency. Nor, incidentally, should such relationships be viewed as expected or mandatory, with those choosing to remain single somehow classified as lesser mortals as so often seems the case. In truth, it is often those without romantic ties that prove the better practitioners of relationships in a plutonic context – probably because they have not fallen into the trap of becoming so fixated on one person to the detriment of the countless others! My point is that these characteristics of relationship I am taking such pains to articulate, ought , to one degree or other, be features of most, if not all, of our human relationships.
My perception, both from personal experience but, furthermore, in observing that of others, is that, for the most part, we yearn more than anything for our relationships to be characterised by that depth of connection, honesty, authenticity and intimacy but, crucially, we are, simultaneously, terrified of both the possible implications of this and, moreover, the necessary sacrifices of pride, self sufficiency and emotional detachment that will, surely, be incurred. Not that we have any particular love for these negative attributes with which we have cloaked ourselves; it is rather that they provide us with a familiar veil of security – a safety blanket, a layer of bubble-wrap enabling us to avoid the sort of pain, complication and loss of face that, we conclude, are the inevitable consequences of dropping one’s guard. And so we don’t. The drawbridge remains up, the hatches battened, the shutters down. It’s lonely and its cold but, we re-assure ourselves, the alternative is too costly. This, then, is the lesser of two evils and, thus, the best we can ever hope for. I doubt, very much, that we actually believe this myth, but we, nevertheless, tell ourselves that we do until, over time, we discover we’ve resigned ourselves to this mediocre status quo and we ought to simply make the best of it.
Again, if I might be permitted here to momentarily inject a point of clarity. Clearly, absolute personal vulnerability when universally applied is neither healthy, nor appropriate! I am certainly not proposing a complete ‘access all areas’ mentality of unveiling all one’s inmost privacies and laying oneself totally bare and vulnerable at the feet of every passerby! Quite obviously, caution must be exercised and responsibility both for one’s own emotional well being but also that of others. As such, different degrees of intimacy will be proper for different relationships and there can be no ‘one size fits all’ model. All that understood and notwithstanding the need for wisdom and discernment in one’s conducting of relationships, the point nevertheless stands that intimacy, honesty and emotional authenticity remains the essential, but all too often missing, ingredient in our human relationships.
The chief reason, then, for our denial of the riches of our relational humanity is one of self preservation. Preservation of reputation, of emotional stability, of pride and, if we are truly honest, of those aspects of ourselves we would rather remained undiscovered and under-wraps! Underlying all this, I strongly suspect, is a paralysing fear of judgement and rejection. Remove one’s armour and one’s weakness and vulnerability is exposed and one risks being stabbed. Better then, we concede, to be safe, not sorry!
If self preservation is the primary cause of unfulfilled human relationships, then the second is closely linked and it is the belief that human interdependency and intimacy, of the kind I am speaking of here, are unreasonable expectations to impose on those other parties with whom we are in relationship. The presentation of our vulnerabilities and weaknesses to our fellow humans is, we conclude, too great an imposition. The articulation of our absolute need for their intimacy must surely be too great a burden to ask them to carry.
Thus, we concede, the kind of relationship that we so greatly crave requires too unreasonable a demand on both ourselves and on others.
And this, regrettably, is the point of conclusion for many who have battled with this agonizing issue of the human condition. It is, of course, a most lonely road to walk but, I suppose, if one doesn’t dwell on it too frequently and provides oneself with sufficient distractions it is, at least, bearable.
Of course, there is always the alternative. For those prepared to swallow their pride, make themselves vulnerable, risk undoing their reputation and upsetting their well preserved emotional sensibilities there does exist another way. For those courageous enough to be so honestly audacious as to admit the truth of our humanity: that we desperately, desperately need each other, that we are unspeakably lonely in our self inflicted isolation and that we crave, deep within our souls, the kind of relationship we feel sure we were created and put on this Earth for. To those few there remains the path of optimum humanity and therein, I truly believe, may we even see a glimpse of God Himself.
Saturday, 1 May 2010
"Splendid Isolation" -Really?
Are we becoming a nation of recluses?
Toward the latter half of the 19th century, Great Britain embarked on a brief period in its history, dubbed “splendid isolation” during which time she, intentionally or otherwise, radically disengaged herself from the international community, becoming increasingly insular. For these few years, Britannia became an island in both the literal and the metaphoric sense; a state from which only the climactic build up to war was able to wrench her.
I take you on this little trip down memory lane because, as I look around me at the society we have created in 2010, I am greatly saddened and, moreover, deeply concerned that it might be happening all over again. This time, not at an international level, but much closer to home: with us. I am forced to consider the possibility that we are sleep walking into a new age of individualistic “splendid isolation.” It’s a chilling thought.
Never in recent history has the phrase “look out for number one” been more apt. Our modern society grooms and preconditions us towards self preservation at all costs; financially, emotionally and physically we are constantly reminded to put ourselves first, to secure our own interests, to take whatever steps we deem necessary to get on in life and achieve our goals. I remember all too well having this mindset drummed into me as an 18 year old 6th form student making decisions about his future. Again and again I was reminded by countless teachers that the only person who could turn my dreams into reality was me and the best thing a person could do in life was to plough all my time and energy into building my place in the sun and securing my future – now! The model most of us have had imposed upon us is a sort of odd hybrid of the American Dream and Thatcherite-Capitalism, but by whatever name we choose to call it, it would seem that non of us are immune: we are all it’s children.
As children grow and mature into adulthood, embarking on careers and families and forging their path in the world, the model is always the same: Me first. Whatever the cost, whatever the sacrifice and whoever we have to knock down or step over along the way, society compels us towards something it labels “success.” Towards this state of “splendid isolation.” And it’s heart-breaking to watch.
As a student for the past three years, the trappings of Western normality have always appeared a somewhat remote reality that I’ve been temporarily immune from. But now, as I move towards graduation and begin to take those first tentative footsteps into the “real world” the full burden of society’s pressures begins to come to bear upon my shoulders. I should, society tells me, begin to start making serious career plans and costing my future so that I can afford, a few years from now, to climb the first rung of the property ladder. Not that there is any immediate rush but I should, society tells me, start seeing communal living, city dwelling, property renting and public transport using as temporal not long term solutions. My aspirations, society reminds me, should begin to focus on purchasing a ‘nice’ house in a ‘nice’ area (preferably in the suburbs) complete with its own garden, ideally not overlooked by any of the neighbours and generally situated to maximise quietness, tranquillity and just far enough removed from everybody else so as to make it rather an inconvenience for them to just “pop round” to see you. And, of course, somewhere in the middle of all this, society tells me, I ought to get married and start a family so that in between stressing over the career, worrying about the kids, attempting to please the marriage partner and juggling the finances to ensure that this whole lifestyle can be maintained...there really is little time left for anything, or indeed anyone, else. This, apparently, is “success.” This is the model of splendid isolation to which almost all of us, like it or not, will succumb. Sounds great doesn’t it?
Believing that happiness is a commodity up for sale, almost all of us will spend our lives, exhaust our energy and whittle away our cash in pursuit of our very own slice of isolated bliss. Because of course, the more money we have at our disposal, the more ‘privacy’ we are able to afford; the greater choice we have regarding precisely who we share our space with and who we shut out. In short, with all our well deserved earnings we are able to buy ourselves out of community and into solitude; remove ourselves from the masses and purchase our very own piece of isolation. And the fatter the wager packet the more pronounced the isolation can be; the higher the privet hedge, the taller the gate, the greater the distance between our castle and the next.
Safely secure within the confines of these four walls we can raise our children, go about our business, entertain what few friends we’ve decided to hold onto...protected from the corruptive influence of the outside world and all its dangers. Of course, we can’t completely shut ourselves off – it remains necessary to lower the drawbridge from time to time and venture out into the abyss but we take precautions to minimize the “damage” as much as possible. We purchase large cars that remove the need to share dirty buses with equally dirty people and we make every effort to restrict our wanderings to only the ‘pleasant’ areas, avoiding those less agreeable places where no doubt the dirty people on the dirty buses originate from!
The years rolls on, the hair grows a little greyer, the stomach starts to expand and one by one the kids fly the nest. We’re reminded of when we were that age – how exciting life was, living in the company of our friends all the while – enjoying the camaraderie and the intimacy of relational existence. We struggle to recall the last time we experienced such community. We try and make conversation with the guys in the office but they’re unbelievably boring and the friends from the old days – well, they’re far to preoccupied with their own lives: meeting the mortgage payments, ensuring little Jimmy gets his place at the best school...salvaging the marriage.
And suddenly it dawns upon you: you’re lonely. You’re lonely and you’re living in a world of lonely people; a world of lonely people all chasing after this thing called “success” – all believing that if only they can pay off the mortgage, if only they can see their kids get into university, if only they can raise enough money to decorate the lounge and re landscape the garden...then, then they’ll be happy.
I’m an idealist – you can probably tell! But I don’t think it has to be this way. I am yet to meet an elderly or middle aged person whose biggest regret is not earning enough money or not being able to buy their dream house or favourite car. Plenty however live with a deep and often unexpressed internal agony at friendships lost, communities broken and a pervading sense of disengagement from the society in which they live. All because of their pursuit of “success.”
It is a lie, but one that has gained incredible credence, that success and isolation amount to the same thing. That one inevitably leads to the other; that adulthood, maturity and responsibility carry with them the consequences of individualism, selfishness and introspection. It doesn’t have to be this way.
Who says we need to buy the suburban house with 4 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms – who says we even need to buy a house at all? Who says we need a 9-5 job that saps all of our energy and that we loath so much that we’re counting the years until retirement?
What’s so wrong about communal living, property renting or city dwelling into adult life and what’s the problem with working fewer hours in a job we might actually enjoy and settling for a “lower” standard of living?
Why exactly do we believe that family and community are two diametrically opposed states of existence?
The reason of course, is that society tells us; it drums it into us, it reminds us again and again until our ears ring with its incessant propaganda.
Well, I believe that on this issue, society is wrong. Profoundly wrong. And I’m going to prove it.
Toward the latter half of the 19th century, Great Britain embarked on a brief period in its history, dubbed “splendid isolation” during which time she, intentionally or otherwise, radically disengaged herself from the international community, becoming increasingly insular. For these few years, Britannia became an island in both the literal and the metaphoric sense; a state from which only the climactic build up to war was able to wrench her.
I take you on this little trip down memory lane because, as I look around me at the society we have created in 2010, I am greatly saddened and, moreover, deeply concerned that it might be happening all over again. This time, not at an international level, but much closer to home: with us. I am forced to consider the possibility that we are sleep walking into a new age of individualistic “splendid isolation.” It’s a chilling thought.
Never in recent history has the phrase “look out for number one” been more apt. Our modern society grooms and preconditions us towards self preservation at all costs; financially, emotionally and physically we are constantly reminded to put ourselves first, to secure our own interests, to take whatever steps we deem necessary to get on in life and achieve our goals. I remember all too well having this mindset drummed into me as an 18 year old 6th form student making decisions about his future. Again and again I was reminded by countless teachers that the only person who could turn my dreams into reality was me and the best thing a person could do in life was to plough all my time and energy into building my place in the sun and securing my future – now! The model most of us have had imposed upon us is a sort of odd hybrid of the American Dream and Thatcherite-Capitalism, but by whatever name we choose to call it, it would seem that non of us are immune: we are all it’s children.
As children grow and mature into adulthood, embarking on careers and families and forging their path in the world, the model is always the same: Me first. Whatever the cost, whatever the sacrifice and whoever we have to knock down or step over along the way, society compels us towards something it labels “success.” Towards this state of “splendid isolation.” And it’s heart-breaking to watch.
As a student for the past three years, the trappings of Western normality have always appeared a somewhat remote reality that I’ve been temporarily immune from. But now, as I move towards graduation and begin to take those first tentative footsteps into the “real world” the full burden of society’s pressures begins to come to bear upon my shoulders. I should, society tells me, begin to start making serious career plans and costing my future so that I can afford, a few years from now, to climb the first rung of the property ladder. Not that there is any immediate rush but I should, society tells me, start seeing communal living, city dwelling, property renting and public transport using as temporal not long term solutions. My aspirations, society reminds me, should begin to focus on purchasing a ‘nice’ house in a ‘nice’ area (preferably in the suburbs) complete with its own garden, ideally not overlooked by any of the neighbours and generally situated to maximise quietness, tranquillity and just far enough removed from everybody else so as to make it rather an inconvenience for them to just “pop round” to see you. And, of course, somewhere in the middle of all this, society tells me, I ought to get married and start a family so that in between stressing over the career, worrying about the kids, attempting to please the marriage partner and juggling the finances to ensure that this whole lifestyle can be maintained...there really is little time left for anything, or indeed anyone, else. This, apparently, is “success.” This is the model of splendid isolation to which almost all of us, like it or not, will succumb. Sounds great doesn’t it?
Believing that happiness is a commodity up for sale, almost all of us will spend our lives, exhaust our energy and whittle away our cash in pursuit of our very own slice of isolated bliss. Because of course, the more money we have at our disposal, the more ‘privacy’ we are able to afford; the greater choice we have regarding precisely who we share our space with and who we shut out. In short, with all our well deserved earnings we are able to buy ourselves out of community and into solitude; remove ourselves from the masses and purchase our very own piece of isolation. And the fatter the wager packet the more pronounced the isolation can be; the higher the privet hedge, the taller the gate, the greater the distance between our castle and the next.
Safely secure within the confines of these four walls we can raise our children, go about our business, entertain what few friends we’ve decided to hold onto...protected from the corruptive influence of the outside world and all its dangers. Of course, we can’t completely shut ourselves off – it remains necessary to lower the drawbridge from time to time and venture out into the abyss but we take precautions to minimize the “damage” as much as possible. We purchase large cars that remove the need to share dirty buses with equally dirty people and we make every effort to restrict our wanderings to only the ‘pleasant’ areas, avoiding those less agreeable places where no doubt the dirty people on the dirty buses originate from!
The years rolls on, the hair grows a little greyer, the stomach starts to expand and one by one the kids fly the nest. We’re reminded of when we were that age – how exciting life was, living in the company of our friends all the while – enjoying the camaraderie and the intimacy of relational existence. We struggle to recall the last time we experienced such community. We try and make conversation with the guys in the office but they’re unbelievably boring and the friends from the old days – well, they’re far to preoccupied with their own lives: meeting the mortgage payments, ensuring little Jimmy gets his place at the best school...salvaging the marriage.
And suddenly it dawns upon you: you’re lonely. You’re lonely and you’re living in a world of lonely people; a world of lonely people all chasing after this thing called “success” – all believing that if only they can pay off the mortgage, if only they can see their kids get into university, if only they can raise enough money to decorate the lounge and re landscape the garden...then, then they’ll be happy.
I’m an idealist – you can probably tell! But I don’t think it has to be this way. I am yet to meet an elderly or middle aged person whose biggest regret is not earning enough money or not being able to buy their dream house or favourite car. Plenty however live with a deep and often unexpressed internal agony at friendships lost, communities broken and a pervading sense of disengagement from the society in which they live. All because of their pursuit of “success.”
It is a lie, but one that has gained incredible credence, that success and isolation amount to the same thing. That one inevitably leads to the other; that adulthood, maturity and responsibility carry with them the consequences of individualism, selfishness and introspection. It doesn’t have to be this way.
Who says we need to buy the suburban house with 4 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms – who says we even need to buy a house at all? Who says we need a 9-5 job that saps all of our energy and that we loath so much that we’re counting the years until retirement?
What’s so wrong about communal living, property renting or city dwelling into adult life and what’s the problem with working fewer hours in a job we might actually enjoy and settling for a “lower” standard of living?
Why exactly do we believe that family and community are two diametrically opposed states of existence?
The reason of course, is that society tells us; it drums it into us, it reminds us again and again until our ears ring with its incessant propaganda.
Well, I believe that on this issue, society is wrong. Profoundly wrong. And I’m going to prove it.
Saturday, 3 April 2010
Why I’m routing for a hung Parliament
With the 2010 General Election nearly upon us, all of voting age are confronted with that problematic question of where to cast our precious vote. That is of course assuming we wish to vote at all.
With all the chameleon, sleaze ridden, sensationalised, “Punch and Judy” style of politics we’ve witnessed over the past few years the issue of party-political loyalty has, undoubtedly, been muddied somewhat, to the extent that people, of all ideological persuasions, now find themselves in a state of unprecedented uncertainty as to which party best represents their views.
It was all so simple twenty years ago at the height of Thatcher’s reign: either you found yourself on the side of big business, private enterprise and neo-liberalist capitalism or else you supported the socialist policies of increased welfare, nationalisation and economic regulation. Back then, the dividing lines were clear and the positions, at least of the two main parties, were distinct (even polarised). Now, as Labour’s third term in office draws to a close, it can be difficult to discern exactly what differentiates the major parties – especially given the shameful image-centric brand of politics we now seem to be engulfed in; lambasting us with pseudo celebrity leaders and their “oh-so glamorous” wives, endless YouTube clips endorsing the “down to earth” normality of the prospective candidates and cringe-worthy interviews about politician’s personal habits or taste in music.
Since the election of New Labour in 1997, what we have essentially witnessed on Britain’s political landscape is a centralisation, if not a homogenisation, of the two main parties; with Tony Blair ruthlessly shaking off his more hard line socialists whilst, more recently, David Cameron has sought to distance the Conservatives from the toffy-nosed, public school image they’ve held for so long. Many, of course, would argue the merits of this moderation of left and right wing politics, pointing to it as a sign of a more coherent and, endemically more democratic society. I do not share this view and for two simple reasons: Firstly, the rush by both Labour and the Tories to occupy the centre ground actually serves more in disenfranchising majority swaths of the population from mainstream politics than it does to widen it’s appeal. For both the socialist and the capitalist it is now increasingly difficult to ascertain which party best expresses their social, economic or moral convictions. Secondly, and perhaps more importantly, it leads to the shrouding of political parties in a smokescreen of ambiguity whereby no-one is entirely certain of quite what it is they stand for. And yet, the parties never cease to remind us, they are all most definitely “different.” But are they?
The problem, of course, is that we simply don’t know. What I mean is, we have little way of discerning a party’s true colours until they’re in government, at which point we often receive an unpleasant surprise! The one thing history has taught us however is this: give one party too much power for too long and it goes to their head; they make extreme and often rash decisions, they alienate their citizens and leave a trail of political debris for the next incumbents to deal with. We’ve seen this with both the Conservatives and now with Labour; from Thatcher’s despicable handling of the miner’s strikes and her whimsical selling off of British assets to Blair’s uncalculated decision to take us to war and Brown’s failure to keep a lid on the City’s irresponsible extravagance.
For this reason I am equally wary of Cameron’s platform of “change” and his self propagation as a modern, compassionate Conservative as I am of another term of Labour, given their less than impressive track record, certainly in more recent years. Although I admire and respect many of the policies of the Liberal Democrats and would certainly conclude that on issues like the economy and Iraq they emerge with the greatest level of integrity, I am also nervous about some of their more outlandish policies regarding Europe, Trident and other key issues.
So, what, you ask, is the solution?
The prospect of five years of either Labour or Conservative rule does nothing to excite me and I suspect I am not alone in this regard. Many thousands across the country will, on May 6th, be voting not for a party that excites or impassions them but for, what they deem to be, the lesser of two evils (and you can make your own minds up as to which is which!)
What say you then, of the prospect of a hung Parliament and five years of coalition style government? Admittedly, political coalitions have never received a particularly positive press in Britain and yet I can’t help but feel that, in 2010, the time is ripe for this form of governance. It would, for the first time in a generation, force cross-party consensus. It would temper the more knee-jerk “reactionist” policies that majority governments are prone to. It would devolve power back to Parliament and reignite the chamber as a place of debate, scrutiny and accountability. It would be more representative of the views of the country as a whole. It would necessitate greater levels of political negotiation and compromise leading to less, but more reasoned, legislation.
It would be difficult, yes and it would require great patience and unprecedented levels of co-operation. But is that really a bad thing? The more I think about it, the more I’m coming round to the idea!
With all the chameleon, sleaze ridden, sensationalised, “Punch and Judy” style of politics we’ve witnessed over the past few years the issue of party-political loyalty has, undoubtedly, been muddied somewhat, to the extent that people, of all ideological persuasions, now find themselves in a state of unprecedented uncertainty as to which party best represents their views.
It was all so simple twenty years ago at the height of Thatcher’s reign: either you found yourself on the side of big business, private enterprise and neo-liberalist capitalism or else you supported the socialist policies of increased welfare, nationalisation and economic regulation. Back then, the dividing lines were clear and the positions, at least of the two main parties, were distinct (even polarised). Now, as Labour’s third term in office draws to a close, it can be difficult to discern exactly what differentiates the major parties – especially given the shameful image-centric brand of politics we now seem to be engulfed in; lambasting us with pseudo celebrity leaders and their “oh-so glamorous” wives, endless YouTube clips endorsing the “down to earth” normality of the prospective candidates and cringe-worthy interviews about politician’s personal habits or taste in music.
Since the election of New Labour in 1997, what we have essentially witnessed on Britain’s political landscape is a centralisation, if not a homogenisation, of the two main parties; with Tony Blair ruthlessly shaking off his more hard line socialists whilst, more recently, David Cameron has sought to distance the Conservatives from the toffy-nosed, public school image they’ve held for so long. Many, of course, would argue the merits of this moderation of left and right wing politics, pointing to it as a sign of a more coherent and, endemically more democratic society. I do not share this view and for two simple reasons: Firstly, the rush by both Labour and the Tories to occupy the centre ground actually serves more in disenfranchising majority swaths of the population from mainstream politics than it does to widen it’s appeal. For both the socialist and the capitalist it is now increasingly difficult to ascertain which party best expresses their social, economic or moral convictions. Secondly, and perhaps more importantly, it leads to the shrouding of political parties in a smokescreen of ambiguity whereby no-one is entirely certain of quite what it is they stand for. And yet, the parties never cease to remind us, they are all most definitely “different.” But are they?
The problem, of course, is that we simply don’t know. What I mean is, we have little way of discerning a party’s true colours until they’re in government, at which point we often receive an unpleasant surprise! The one thing history has taught us however is this: give one party too much power for too long and it goes to their head; they make extreme and often rash decisions, they alienate their citizens and leave a trail of political debris for the next incumbents to deal with. We’ve seen this with both the Conservatives and now with Labour; from Thatcher’s despicable handling of the miner’s strikes and her whimsical selling off of British assets to Blair’s uncalculated decision to take us to war and Brown’s failure to keep a lid on the City’s irresponsible extravagance.
For this reason I am equally wary of Cameron’s platform of “change” and his self propagation as a modern, compassionate Conservative as I am of another term of Labour, given their less than impressive track record, certainly in more recent years. Although I admire and respect many of the policies of the Liberal Democrats and would certainly conclude that on issues like the economy and Iraq they emerge with the greatest level of integrity, I am also nervous about some of their more outlandish policies regarding Europe, Trident and other key issues.
So, what, you ask, is the solution?
The prospect of five years of either Labour or Conservative rule does nothing to excite me and I suspect I am not alone in this regard. Many thousands across the country will, on May 6th, be voting not for a party that excites or impassions them but for, what they deem to be, the lesser of two evils (and you can make your own minds up as to which is which!)
What say you then, of the prospect of a hung Parliament and five years of coalition style government? Admittedly, political coalitions have never received a particularly positive press in Britain and yet I can’t help but feel that, in 2010, the time is ripe for this form of governance. It would, for the first time in a generation, force cross-party consensus. It would temper the more knee-jerk “reactionist” policies that majority governments are prone to. It would devolve power back to Parliament and reignite the chamber as a place of debate, scrutiny and accountability. It would be more representative of the views of the country as a whole. It would necessitate greater levels of political negotiation and compromise leading to less, but more reasoned, legislation.
It would be difficult, yes and it would require great patience and unprecedented levels of co-operation. But is that really a bad thing? The more I think about it, the more I’m coming round to the idea!
Wednesday, 24 March 2010
Christ: Liar, Lunatic or Lord. You decide.
Followers of my blogs will know that I have already written at great length of the problematic notion of subjectivity in regards to “truth” that has become so systemic in our postmodern age. Whilst I do not wish to rake over old ground here, I nevertheless feel the need to re-emphasise a particularly important point concerning the person of Jesus Christ. And before you switch off, this is something which concerns those of any faith or, indeed, those who profess no faith at all.
A lot has been said about Jesus Christ and much of it, it must be concluded, is utter fiction. I am becoming increasingly weary of those who wish to maintain a form of diluted admiration and deference to this person of Christ whilst simultaneously rejecting outright His claims to be God. I speak, so it would appear, not of any one sector, class or religious group within society but of a much wider and more endemic adoption of this skewed pseudo-doctrine that is so apparently content to continue in this profoundly illogically and, quite frankly, ludicrous assertion that is it reasonable to accept Christ as nothing more than “a good man” or “a prophet” or a “wise teacher.” In, what way, I find myself questioning, was Christ any of these things, while ever you also maintain He was also not the Son of God? No, quite the opposite in fact. If we are so convinced that Christ was not the incarnation of the Divine then, to put it bluntly, He was an out and out liar. A confidence trickster. A fraud. Or, if we take a more sympathetic approach we have to conclude He was mentally deranged. He was possessed or psychologically unwell or however we might choose to phrase it. But there can certainly be nothing “good” about Him.
Jesus Christ claimed to have the power to universally forgive sins; something which, as the Pharisees quite correctly pointed out, only God has the power to do (Mark 2:6, Matthew 9:2, Luke 5:20). He claimed that all authority on heaven and earth had been given to Him (Matthew 28:18). And He claimed to be omnipotent (John 8:58).
We simply cannot, in the face of such bold statements, continue in this ridiculous belief that somehow Christ, whilst not being God, was nevertheless a generally decent fellow! Not a bit of it! I am awfully sorry to have to convey this inconvenience to you, but the fact is, either we believe Jesus’ claims in their entirety and we accept Him as Lord or else we denounce and reject Him as a dangerous, deranged and deceiving heretic. And, I’m afraid to say it really is that serious. Either Christ is Lord or He is a heretic whom we should pay no credence or deference to whatsoever. That is the choice we face. To give validity to Christ as a human moral teacher but to deny His divinity is to places one’s trust in a lunatic at best and a liar at worst. I, for one, have no intention of paying even an iota of attention to the claims of man who falls into either of these two categories, let alone to base my life upon His teachings.
C.S. Lewis perhaps put it most succinctly and eloquently in his book Mere Christianity where He famously outlines the choice we face between Christ the liar, the lunatic or the Lord:
“I am trying here to prevent anyone saying the really foolish thing that people often say about Him: “I’m ready to accept Jesus as a great moral teacher, but I don’t accept His claim to be God.” That is the one thing we must not say. A man who said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic — on a level with the man who says he is a poached egg — or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You must make your choice. Either this man was, and is, the Son of God: or else a madman or something worse. You can shut Him up for a fool, you can spit at Him and kill Him as a demon; or you can fall at His feet and call Him Lord and God. But let us not come with any patronizing nonsense about His being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us. He did not intend to.”
And to follow such articulate brilliance I will say only this: The divinity of Christ is THE central, defining, pivotal matter of truth that outweighs all others and is of primary importance and significance for the human race. Either He is the Way Everlasting; the King of Kings, the Lord of Lords, the Alpha and the Omega, the Saviour, the Redeemer, the Messiah, or else He is a fraudulent, wicked, heretic. Accept Him or reject Him but please, please, please, don’t attempt to occupy some cosy, non-commital, middle ground here. It doesn’t exist.
A lot has been said about Jesus Christ and much of it, it must be concluded, is utter fiction. I am becoming increasingly weary of those who wish to maintain a form of diluted admiration and deference to this person of Christ whilst simultaneously rejecting outright His claims to be God. I speak, so it would appear, not of any one sector, class or religious group within society but of a much wider and more endemic adoption of this skewed pseudo-doctrine that is so apparently content to continue in this profoundly illogically and, quite frankly, ludicrous assertion that is it reasonable to accept Christ as nothing more than “a good man” or “a prophet” or a “wise teacher.” In, what way, I find myself questioning, was Christ any of these things, while ever you also maintain He was also not the Son of God? No, quite the opposite in fact. If we are so convinced that Christ was not the incarnation of the Divine then, to put it bluntly, He was an out and out liar. A confidence trickster. A fraud. Or, if we take a more sympathetic approach we have to conclude He was mentally deranged. He was possessed or psychologically unwell or however we might choose to phrase it. But there can certainly be nothing “good” about Him.
Jesus Christ claimed to have the power to universally forgive sins; something which, as the Pharisees quite correctly pointed out, only God has the power to do (Mark 2:6, Matthew 9:2, Luke 5:20). He claimed that all authority on heaven and earth had been given to Him (Matthew 28:18). And He claimed to be omnipotent (John 8:58).
We simply cannot, in the face of such bold statements, continue in this ridiculous belief that somehow Christ, whilst not being God, was nevertheless a generally decent fellow! Not a bit of it! I am awfully sorry to have to convey this inconvenience to you, but the fact is, either we believe Jesus’ claims in their entirety and we accept Him as Lord or else we denounce and reject Him as a dangerous, deranged and deceiving heretic. And, I’m afraid to say it really is that serious. Either Christ is Lord or He is a heretic whom we should pay no credence or deference to whatsoever. That is the choice we face. To give validity to Christ as a human moral teacher but to deny His divinity is to places one’s trust in a lunatic at best and a liar at worst. I, for one, have no intention of paying even an iota of attention to the claims of man who falls into either of these two categories, let alone to base my life upon His teachings.
C.S. Lewis perhaps put it most succinctly and eloquently in his book Mere Christianity where He famously outlines the choice we face between Christ the liar, the lunatic or the Lord:
“I am trying here to prevent anyone saying the really foolish thing that people often say about Him: “I’m ready to accept Jesus as a great moral teacher, but I don’t accept His claim to be God.” That is the one thing we must not say. A man who said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic — on a level with the man who says he is a poached egg — or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You must make your choice. Either this man was, and is, the Son of God: or else a madman or something worse. You can shut Him up for a fool, you can spit at Him and kill Him as a demon; or you can fall at His feet and call Him Lord and God. But let us not come with any patronizing nonsense about His being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us. He did not intend to.”
And to follow such articulate brilliance I will say only this: The divinity of Christ is THE central, defining, pivotal matter of truth that outweighs all others and is of primary importance and significance for the human race. Either He is the Way Everlasting; the King of Kings, the Lord of Lords, the Alpha and the Omega, the Saviour, the Redeemer, the Messiah, or else He is a fraudulent, wicked, heretic. Accept Him or reject Him but please, please, please, don’t attempt to occupy some cosy, non-commital, middle ground here. It doesn’t exist.
Friday, 5 March 2010
Love
Love. That last unfathomable and incomprehensible mystery of man. So powerful that armies have been driven to war on its account, so transformational as to turn the most hardened criminals to pacifists, so all consuming as to drive men to illness and early graves, their wealth frittered away mindlessly in its pursuit. So dangerous that good men have killed, wise men become fools and friends become mortal enemies.
But of course, it’s all nonsense really. Isn’t it? It is just a chaotic, irrational mass of biological chemicals and hormones consuming the body’s psyche and evoking a somewhat arbitrary and yet transfixing state we’ve come to call “emotion.” And, surely, as reasoned and logical as our human intellect has permitted us to be, we can accept the inherent irrationality, the idiocy even of contemplating taking such whimsical and chance driven feelings at all seriously? Surely we are capable of sufficient self analysis as to realise the temporal, fluctuating and accidental nature of this bizarre and uninvited imposter we so confidently label “love?” It would seem not.
But I was being quite serious: it really is nonsense. At least, our notion of love is nonsense. Indeed, it has to be. One only has to look at the number of marriages which break down because couples “fall out of love” with each other or else look to the celebrity world, in particular, and note the frequency with which individuals are consumed with the insatiable intensity of “love” towards another only for the object of their desires to shift only a matter of months later. The explanation of hindsight is of course to simply claim never to have “loved” their previous romantic interest at all – and yet they remained convinced enough of it at the time!
Beyond the commoditised fantasy of the Hollywood romance or even the naive superficiality of celebrity culture I am at once struck by the inherent danger of this idea of love that we have become so fixated upon in Western culture. Given the, often uncharacteristic and perilous, lengths individuals will go to in the name of this apparently indefinable thing called love, it is little wonder that individuals who succumb to its seductive lure are not forcibly restrained, kept under lock and key and forbidden for any form of human interaction until this hallucinatory state, this possession has lifted. It is both chilling and sickening that imperative decisions are made, unions forged and even deaths incurred because of this abstract and unquantifiable four letter word.
If this is really love, I for one wish to have no part in it. If this is love, it is perhaps the most dangerous, debilitating and hazardous thing human beings have ever had the misfortune to be laden with. Evoking maniacal behaviour, obsession, anger, violence, jealously and deceit amongst a catalogue of other vices, it is so toxic we had better feed ourselves upon almost every form of recreational narcotic going before selecting “love” from the shelf!
Thankfully of course, non of what I have taken such pains to describe is love at all. It doesn’t even come close. True love is neither fluctuating nor is it temporal nor, do I believe, is it arbitrary. Of crucial significance however is that it most certainly is definable.
Probably the greatest lie to have beguiled modern man is the notion that love is a feeling. It is not. That is not to say that love does not manifest itself through feelings and that it doesn’t evoke human emotion but love itself is not a feeling. The possibility that love might be truly little more than an involuntary emotional reflex utterly terrifies me, chiefly because it means we have absolutely no say, no input or element of self determination, regarding who we love. We are paralysed therefore; rendered utterly powerless by the fluctuating state of our tumultuous emotional interior. That is not a state of affairs I am at ease with at all.
I approach this, inevitably, from a perspective underpinned with Christian teaching and little wonder therefore that I am at once drawn to Jesus’ commands to “love your neighbour” and still further to “love your enemies.” How, precisely, does one achieve, particularly this latter directive, if love is simply a sensation over which I have almost no control?
I make this point so vehemently because I firmly believe that it is this deeply flawed understanding of love that is at the root of so much of contemporary societies ills. Both Hollywood and the media only exacerbate this addiction to such a self indulgent, consumerist and worryingly intangible notion of love and, surprise, surprise, Joe Public has subscribed to the fantasy wholeheartedly and without reservation or scepticism. That is, until it all goes wrong – and it invariably does!
There is already too much that has been said by way of defining love and so I do not wish to add to these largely sentimentalised and problematic ideas. To my mind the closest thing we have to a definitive definition of this apparently so abstract concept can be found in Paul’s writings to the Corinthians in the New Testament of the Bible – 1 Corinthians 13.
What I will say with all confidence is that love is not a feeling, rather it is an act of the will. Love is an intention, it is a decision, it is a conscious and deliberate choice. Undoubtedly love manifests itself in differing ways and no-one would wish to suggest that romantic love, motherly love or friendship love don’t hold there own distinct and unique qualities, however each must be founded upon a principle of intention, or else they have no foundation at all. Relationships of all kinds might be better served and so much human pain and suffering averted if only we would desist from our absolution of responsibility to a whimsical and largely disappointing definition of love.
The reality is quite far removed from the glossy magazines, the Richard Curtis rom-com and the fairy tale literature, all of which, I’m afraid to say, are little more than mirages on the social landscape. Real love? Well, I learnt that one from a man who decided to allow himself to be murdered most brutally and barbarically all for the sake of a people who mocked him, disowned him, ridiculed and cursed him. I don’t think feelings really came into that one!
But of course, it’s all nonsense really. Isn’t it? It is just a chaotic, irrational mass of biological chemicals and hormones consuming the body’s psyche and evoking a somewhat arbitrary and yet transfixing state we’ve come to call “emotion.” And, surely, as reasoned and logical as our human intellect has permitted us to be, we can accept the inherent irrationality, the idiocy even of contemplating taking such whimsical and chance driven feelings at all seriously? Surely we are capable of sufficient self analysis as to realise the temporal, fluctuating and accidental nature of this bizarre and uninvited imposter we so confidently label “love?” It would seem not.
But I was being quite serious: it really is nonsense. At least, our notion of love is nonsense. Indeed, it has to be. One only has to look at the number of marriages which break down because couples “fall out of love” with each other or else look to the celebrity world, in particular, and note the frequency with which individuals are consumed with the insatiable intensity of “love” towards another only for the object of their desires to shift only a matter of months later. The explanation of hindsight is of course to simply claim never to have “loved” their previous romantic interest at all – and yet they remained convinced enough of it at the time!
Beyond the commoditised fantasy of the Hollywood romance or even the naive superficiality of celebrity culture I am at once struck by the inherent danger of this idea of love that we have become so fixated upon in Western culture. Given the, often uncharacteristic and perilous, lengths individuals will go to in the name of this apparently indefinable thing called love, it is little wonder that individuals who succumb to its seductive lure are not forcibly restrained, kept under lock and key and forbidden for any form of human interaction until this hallucinatory state, this possession has lifted. It is both chilling and sickening that imperative decisions are made, unions forged and even deaths incurred because of this abstract and unquantifiable four letter word.
If this is really love, I for one wish to have no part in it. If this is love, it is perhaps the most dangerous, debilitating and hazardous thing human beings have ever had the misfortune to be laden with. Evoking maniacal behaviour, obsession, anger, violence, jealously and deceit amongst a catalogue of other vices, it is so toxic we had better feed ourselves upon almost every form of recreational narcotic going before selecting “love” from the shelf!
Thankfully of course, non of what I have taken such pains to describe is love at all. It doesn’t even come close. True love is neither fluctuating nor is it temporal nor, do I believe, is it arbitrary. Of crucial significance however is that it most certainly is definable.
Probably the greatest lie to have beguiled modern man is the notion that love is a feeling. It is not. That is not to say that love does not manifest itself through feelings and that it doesn’t evoke human emotion but love itself is not a feeling. The possibility that love might be truly little more than an involuntary emotional reflex utterly terrifies me, chiefly because it means we have absolutely no say, no input or element of self determination, regarding who we love. We are paralysed therefore; rendered utterly powerless by the fluctuating state of our tumultuous emotional interior. That is not a state of affairs I am at ease with at all.
I approach this, inevitably, from a perspective underpinned with Christian teaching and little wonder therefore that I am at once drawn to Jesus’ commands to “love your neighbour” and still further to “love your enemies.” How, precisely, does one achieve, particularly this latter directive, if love is simply a sensation over which I have almost no control?
I make this point so vehemently because I firmly believe that it is this deeply flawed understanding of love that is at the root of so much of contemporary societies ills. Both Hollywood and the media only exacerbate this addiction to such a self indulgent, consumerist and worryingly intangible notion of love and, surprise, surprise, Joe Public has subscribed to the fantasy wholeheartedly and without reservation or scepticism. That is, until it all goes wrong – and it invariably does!
There is already too much that has been said by way of defining love and so I do not wish to add to these largely sentimentalised and problematic ideas. To my mind the closest thing we have to a definitive definition of this apparently so abstract concept can be found in Paul’s writings to the Corinthians in the New Testament of the Bible – 1 Corinthians 13.
What I will say with all confidence is that love is not a feeling, rather it is an act of the will. Love is an intention, it is a decision, it is a conscious and deliberate choice. Undoubtedly love manifests itself in differing ways and no-one would wish to suggest that romantic love, motherly love or friendship love don’t hold there own distinct and unique qualities, however each must be founded upon a principle of intention, or else they have no foundation at all. Relationships of all kinds might be better served and so much human pain and suffering averted if only we would desist from our absolution of responsibility to a whimsical and largely disappointing definition of love.
The reality is quite far removed from the glossy magazines, the Richard Curtis rom-com and the fairy tale literature, all of which, I’m afraid to say, are little more than mirages on the social landscape. Real love? Well, I learnt that one from a man who decided to allow himself to be murdered most brutally and barbarically all for the sake of a people who mocked him, disowned him, ridiculed and cursed him. I don’t think feelings really came into that one!
Tuesday, 26 January 2010
Child-Like Faith
There comes a point in the lives of many Christians (though I dare say not all) when they enter a time of deep and profound questioning in regard to their faith. A time during which every value, every belief, every principle and every notion of truth is, often severely, challenged. For some such a period of testing and internal wrangling causes them to loose faith altogether; for others it strengthens it and increases their appetite for a deeper, a more meaningful understanding of God. In either instance the composition of one’s faith; the nature of the relationship between us and God is transformed forever.
I find myself, at this present time, in the midst of just such an infernal struggle and, whilst I cannot claim with any confidence to have yet emerged victorious from this period of doubt and confusion let alone to have even begun to fathom this eternal mystery that is God’s relationship to Man I, nevertheless, have learned much whilst walking, and sometimes stumbling, down this rocky path, that I sincerely hope can be a source of encouragement and help to others
Of late, I have found myself both questioning and, at times, genuinely doubting every facet; every aspect of my faith in Christ and all that I have lived believing to be right and true and infallible. In this time of what postmodern thinkers would doubtlessly label “soul searching,” nothing has been immune. From the very existence of God, to the authenticity of Scripture, the plausibility and necessity of salvation, the legitimacy of the Church and the value and logic of Christian doctrine.
It is both a blessing and a curse of ‘growing up’ that whilst one grows in wisdom, knowledge and understanding in some areas, in other sectors much is lost or else significantly diluted. Nowhere is this more apparent perhaps that in the world of academia; a labyrinth of human theory, philosophical insight, interpretations, expositions, arguments and so-called logic. In many ways it is all for the good; after all, if intelligence is God- given one should celebrate it, utilise it, expand it even. Mankind was not granted either physical or mental aptitude only to allow them to lie fallow. And yet perhaps a note of caution should be applied here also, not to take human wisdom too much to heart, however convincing and rational may first appear.
I look back, but a few years, to my late teens with what is fast becoming an aching sense of longing; of yearning for something now lost. God seemed so real back then; so present; so overwhelming. It is a tragic paradox, in many ways, that over the course of the past few years, through study, debate and evaluation I have grown more convinced than ever of the existence of God; of the reality of an external and divine Creator, even one with a paternal interest in His subjects. Yet, in spite of all this, a the personal relationship with an intimate and loving Father seems always just out of reach.
For those reading in alarm at my perilous state of salvation, be assured: I lack the faith to ever consider atheism as a possible option and agnosticism, for its part, would only lead me full circle and back to my current position! And so I find myself, perhaps stuck, perhaps secure, but in any case permanently rooted to the spot, calling, shouting, crying to the Heavens with little option but to wait for a response.
I recall, with almost a sense of disbelief, the enormity of the faith and the hunger for God that I experienced and lived by as a 18/19 year old and, in my more melancholy moment, desperately crave its return. Yet, simultaneously, I am made at once aware of the sharp learning curve I have been brought on since those years when all was viewed through a lense of black and white extremes and based upon largely unfounded and sweeping assertions. The world, it now appears, is composed of all manner of shades of grey, all is scarcely as it would first appear and for every apparently valid opinion there exists a thousand others of equal plausibility. At no other time is this brought into sharper focus than the moment one suddenly realises, with an almost sickening horror, that the principles and beliefs of one’s parents; those which have formed the bedrock of our upbringing through childhood, are, in fact, not infallible! Indeed, they may even be wrong! For many, a simple adaptation or re-evaluation of their parental inheritance is sufficient, for others a complete overhaul of it and, inevitably, all that lies in between.
It is, after all, that wonderful ‘child-like’ faith; that simple acceptance of truth; that inner peace and absolute certainty without the prerequisite of endless, and often pointless, argument followed by counter argument; the monotonous spiral of mindless objections. Precisely when and how this child-like (and notably not ‘childish’) faith of my younger youth left me (or, probably more accurately, when I left it) I cannot recall; only a knowledge that it is now absent, and I am the poorer for it.
All that said, I maintain it is good to search. Questioning, challenging oneself and exploring the, sometime unpalatable, depths of differing perspectives and human ideas is, for the most part, to be encouraged. We must however be wary. If we seek enlightenment, fulfilment or any genuine and lasting sense of peace and closure within the realms of human discourse and academic research, we will not find it. Indeed, while ever we look to ourselves for answers and a sense of purpose, our searching will yield more questions, further uncertainties and less clarity than it will to draw us any nearer to anything conclusive or definite. What is more, to place such a degree of faith in humanistic wisdom and knowledge is to entirely misunderstand wisdom and knowledge themselves. True wisdom and real knowledge, if they are to be found at all, will be without a person, not within. It was, very recently, upon this sudden realisation that a very welcome sense of peace began, slowly and gently to wash over me; lapping at first a little around my ankles and with unhurried serenity rising higher and higher, engulfing me in its calming presence. It didn’t alay the doubts, nor did it clarify the questions, it just settled upon me and, in the stillness and the silence, something about it said ‘its OK.’
I posses now more “knowledge”, more human understanding than at any other point in my life and yet I am certain of practically nothing. I know only this: the path to true wisdom, the beginning of real knowledge is Jesus Christ. He must be our starting point; He must be our bedrock of truth; His holy mountain must be the place we return to time after time, in weeping, in sorrow, in confusion and in doubt. When all other absolutes have failed us, when faith and certainty evade us, when logic baffles us, when evidence disproves us, when emotions stifle us, when all other conviction lies in tatters – return to Jesus. Only of this can I be sure. I pray for a return of the child-like faith once again and hope, with every fibre of my being, that it will one day come.
Verses to consider: 2 Corinthians 10:5 and Proverbs 1:7
I find myself, at this present time, in the midst of just such an infernal struggle and, whilst I cannot claim with any confidence to have yet emerged victorious from this period of doubt and confusion let alone to have even begun to fathom this eternal mystery that is God’s relationship to Man I, nevertheless, have learned much whilst walking, and sometimes stumbling, down this rocky path, that I sincerely hope can be a source of encouragement and help to others
Of late, I have found myself both questioning and, at times, genuinely doubting every facet; every aspect of my faith in Christ and all that I have lived believing to be right and true and infallible. In this time of what postmodern thinkers would doubtlessly label “soul searching,” nothing has been immune. From the very existence of God, to the authenticity of Scripture, the plausibility and necessity of salvation, the legitimacy of the Church and the value and logic of Christian doctrine.
It is both a blessing and a curse of ‘growing up’ that whilst one grows in wisdom, knowledge and understanding in some areas, in other sectors much is lost or else significantly diluted. Nowhere is this more apparent perhaps that in the world of academia; a labyrinth of human theory, philosophical insight, interpretations, expositions, arguments and so-called logic. In many ways it is all for the good; after all, if intelligence is God- given one should celebrate it, utilise it, expand it even. Mankind was not granted either physical or mental aptitude only to allow them to lie fallow. And yet perhaps a note of caution should be applied here also, not to take human wisdom too much to heart, however convincing and rational may first appear.
I look back, but a few years, to my late teens with what is fast becoming an aching sense of longing; of yearning for something now lost. God seemed so real back then; so present; so overwhelming. It is a tragic paradox, in many ways, that over the course of the past few years, through study, debate and evaluation I have grown more convinced than ever of the existence of God; of the reality of an external and divine Creator, even one with a paternal interest in His subjects. Yet, in spite of all this, a the personal relationship with an intimate and loving Father seems always just out of reach.
For those reading in alarm at my perilous state of salvation, be assured: I lack the faith to ever consider atheism as a possible option and agnosticism, for its part, would only lead me full circle and back to my current position! And so I find myself, perhaps stuck, perhaps secure, but in any case permanently rooted to the spot, calling, shouting, crying to the Heavens with little option but to wait for a response.
I recall, with almost a sense of disbelief, the enormity of the faith and the hunger for God that I experienced and lived by as a 18/19 year old and, in my more melancholy moment, desperately crave its return. Yet, simultaneously, I am made at once aware of the sharp learning curve I have been brought on since those years when all was viewed through a lense of black and white extremes and based upon largely unfounded and sweeping assertions. The world, it now appears, is composed of all manner of shades of grey, all is scarcely as it would first appear and for every apparently valid opinion there exists a thousand others of equal plausibility. At no other time is this brought into sharper focus than the moment one suddenly realises, with an almost sickening horror, that the principles and beliefs of one’s parents; those which have formed the bedrock of our upbringing through childhood, are, in fact, not infallible! Indeed, they may even be wrong! For many, a simple adaptation or re-evaluation of their parental inheritance is sufficient, for others a complete overhaul of it and, inevitably, all that lies in between.
It is, after all, that wonderful ‘child-like’ faith; that simple acceptance of truth; that inner peace and absolute certainty without the prerequisite of endless, and often pointless, argument followed by counter argument; the monotonous spiral of mindless objections. Precisely when and how this child-like (and notably not ‘childish’) faith of my younger youth left me (or, probably more accurately, when I left it) I cannot recall; only a knowledge that it is now absent, and I am the poorer for it.
All that said, I maintain it is good to search. Questioning, challenging oneself and exploring the, sometime unpalatable, depths of differing perspectives and human ideas is, for the most part, to be encouraged. We must however be wary. If we seek enlightenment, fulfilment or any genuine and lasting sense of peace and closure within the realms of human discourse and academic research, we will not find it. Indeed, while ever we look to ourselves for answers and a sense of purpose, our searching will yield more questions, further uncertainties and less clarity than it will to draw us any nearer to anything conclusive or definite. What is more, to place such a degree of faith in humanistic wisdom and knowledge is to entirely misunderstand wisdom and knowledge themselves. True wisdom and real knowledge, if they are to be found at all, will be without a person, not within. It was, very recently, upon this sudden realisation that a very welcome sense of peace began, slowly and gently to wash over me; lapping at first a little around my ankles and with unhurried serenity rising higher and higher, engulfing me in its calming presence. It didn’t alay the doubts, nor did it clarify the questions, it just settled upon me and, in the stillness and the silence, something about it said ‘its OK.’
I posses now more “knowledge”, more human understanding than at any other point in my life and yet I am certain of practically nothing. I know only this: the path to true wisdom, the beginning of real knowledge is Jesus Christ. He must be our starting point; He must be our bedrock of truth; His holy mountain must be the place we return to time after time, in weeping, in sorrow, in confusion and in doubt. When all other absolutes have failed us, when faith and certainty evade us, when logic baffles us, when evidence disproves us, when emotions stifle us, when all other conviction lies in tatters – return to Jesus. Only of this can I be sure. I pray for a return of the child-like faith once again and hope, with every fibre of my being, that it will one day come.
Verses to consider: 2 Corinthians 10:5 and Proverbs 1:7
Tuesday, 5 January 2010
Absolute Truth and the Lie of Postmodernism
At the dawn of a new year and, indeed, a new decade, it would seem that the concept and definition of ‘truth’ is one which continues to evade humanity and remain an unfathomable mystery. For all the advances of scientific thinking, technological innovation and philosophical discourse, mankind remains haunted by what it perceives to be a universal absence of ‘absolute truth'; a vacuous gulf that we yearn to fill with definitive purpose, with reason, with certainty and yet, for all our reasoning and searching; our experimenting and our deliberating; our rationalising and hypothesising, nothing; no practise, no theory, no invention, no experience, no relationship and no argument seems to satisfy. And yet still we yearn after it. After what, we seem not to know; but we yearn after it nonetheless. It is, perhaps, what makes us human: a desire for meaning, for purpose, even for significance in a world in which we have all found ourselves, without apparent explanation or, it would seem, mandate. This quest for truth; for reason and for purpose, that would appear so particular to the human race is, I believe, a healthy and a positive characteristic and one which we should not, in spite of all the heartache and headaches it may cause, deny ourselves. It should therefore be a matter of both considerable concern and justifiable indignation to us that a culture and a philosophy of postmodernism (or if you subscribe to the theory, post-post modernism) is rapidly diluting and sanitising this human right of passage, transforming it into little more than an academic exercise with little or no meaning and significance beyond oneself. Postmodernism would assert – and many of us are subscribing to it – that there is not and has never been any such thing as ‘absolute truth;’ that everything in this life is purely subjective, carrying no universal meaning or sense of purpose beyond that which individuals might subscribe to it; that truth itself is a personal notion and that all interpretations and perspectives are equally valid and equally ‘true’ for their occupier. This is a lie. Moreover, it is a lie which is robbing humanity of its right to search for and, hopefully, discover meaning. Not subjective meaning; not individualist, self centred meaning but universal, collective, certain and definitive meaning: absolute truth.
Postmodernist thinking has negated the possibility of ‘absolutes’ and it is this that I wish to challenge firstly. It seems to me, that if we are going to deny the existence of ‘absolutes’ then we must do so universally. That is to say, we cannot reject any idea of an absolute reality or meaning in one area and allow for it in another. If the world, and indeed the universe, is devoid of ultimate meaning, purpose and truth then this must necessarily pervade all aspects of life from the grand philosophical questions concerning the ‘human condition’ down to the minutia of everyday existence. Any subscription to such thinking forces one to the conclusion that nothing is certain, nothing is definitive and nothing is true. Something may well be ‘certain’ for you as an individual but as a universal principle there can be no absolutes. And I mean, no absolutes. It is important that we at once come to such a recognition and an understanding of precisely what postmodernist philosophy is teaching us in relation to ‘truth’ and that we take its fundamental principles to their logical conclusion and there judge it on its merits before we even contemplate buying into it. To fully accept the notion of a complete absence of absolutes is firstly to accept that the universe is entirely chaotic; that it is without order, logic and predictability. To say anything other is to argue for an overarching and external sense of ‘absoluteness’ in so far as it would be to accept that the universe is founded upon principles of certainty and an inherent sense of ‘normality.’ In other words, that the universe was purposefully created along a set of logical, quantifiable and consistent principles. At this juncture, the postmodernist thinkers rub their hands with glee and exclaim “Precisely!” They point to world in all its painful and confusing reality; they site natural disasters, human genocide, disparity of wealth distribution and carnivorous cruelty in the animal kingdom. They site instances where ‘good’ men have died prematurely whilst evil and abhorrent individuals have triumphed; infant mortality and debilitating physical conditions. “There” they cry “is a world of chaos and disorder, without values, principles or ‘rules.’ There is a world where everything is completely arbitrary; random, uncertain, unfair, illogical, unpredictable and contradictory!” Its a convincing argument. Unfortunately, for the Postmodernist, it is deeply flawed and nowhere more than in its failure to take into account the wider picture. Such an existentialist belief in the futility of life falls apart due to the disproportionate focus and significance it places on the dysfunctional tendencies of both humanity and the natural world. It defines the universe by its freak accidents, tragedies and systemic failures rather than by its fundamental mechanisms. Indeed, the very fact that we remain so appalled by suffering, injustice, violence and disaster would suggest an innate sense within our beings that something is not ‘right;’ something in the universe has, if you like, ‘malfunctioned.’ It is not that the world is acting according to its designed purpose – or that is it acting with a lack of designed purpose – but that it is acting contrary to its designed purpose. It is much like a computer with a virus. All computers are made to work in a certain way; to operate according to predefined and encoded principles. They are designed to be consistent, predictable and logical and, for the most part, they are. There are occasions, however, when a PC will, for whatever reason, act contrary to the manner it is designed to. To the laymen observer it will appear chaotic and dysfunctional and we would be rightly angered and frustrated by this. But no one in their right mind would suggest that such a technical malfunction was ‘normal.’ We don’t define computer systems by their failures but by their intended purpose; not by what they shouldn’t do but by what they should! It would seem logical therefore to take the same approach with the larger and more complex mechanism of the universe and, whilst our perspective is inevitably clouded by the very real and present manifestations of chaos and disorder around us, we must surely conclude that the universe itself is ordered and purposeful. The greatest error we make is to equate instances of disorder with absolute disorder. Put another way: we live in a highly ordered universe but one which isn’t operating at optimum capacity; it is, we might say, infected and thus it displays symptoms of chaos and disorder without itself being chaotic or disorderly. If such a position seems nonsensical, please bare with me whilst I corroborate this stance: Notwithstanding the many instances of disharmonious and irrational behaviour demonstrated by both humanity and the wider natural world there remains a definite pattern, a logic and an order to the workings of the universe. Day follows night, the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, the seasons follow one after the other in the same order as they always have done and always will. Even this simple illustration of the passage of time would indicate that, at least our solar system, is governed by quite fixed and absolute rules and fundamental principles. The sun, for instance, does not sometimes set in the east; winter is not sometimes followed by summer and so on. The universe adheres to a quite strict and definite ‘code of conduct’ and it is a code which we can both identify, quantify and, therefore, to some extent, predict. If this were not the case then science and scientific research into the workings of the universe, would be utterly pointless and yield no meaningful results. If the universe were completely arbitrary and chaotic, it would be impossible to measure; impractical to quantify. Every experiment would produce wildly inconsistent results; the whole exercise would be a lottery. And yet this is not the case. Admittedly, there are occasions when nature will throw us a side ball and there will seem no rational or reasonable explanation but, for the most part, the natural world would appear to adhere to a set of rules and operate in a consistent and therefore quantifiable manner. The implication here therefore is that the universe is ordered. Far from being devoid of purpose and logic it is highly purposeful and profoundly logical. It is not arbitrary, nor is it accidental or anarchic and when it appears that way, it is simply an indication, as if we needed one, that our universe and our species has been corrupted; it has been damaged. Exactly why and how this damage has occurred is a subject for another essay, but for the purposes of this argument we must accept that the universe is ‘broken’ and prone to uncharacteristic behaviour that is contrary to its designed purpose. I say all this because I believe it is important to establish that the universe is founded upon a principle of absolutes. There remains a definite sense of ‘correct’ and ‘incorrect’ in the workings of nature and in the genetic make-up of humanity itself. For example, when a hole appeared in the Earth’s ozone layer due to excessive carbon emissions (predominantly on the part of the human race) the Earth did not contend with this state of affairs; it did not ‘accept’ this puncture in its defences as ‘ok’ or ‘normal’ but rather it fought against it and, sure enough, the hole is now greatly reduced in size. Similarly, if the human body contracts an infection or a breakage, its defence system immediately sets to work to combat it. The body does not ‘embrace’ a broken bone or an infection rather it increases its capacity and streamlines its resources into restoring the defect in question. The point I am so elaborately trying to make here is this: the universe, the natural world and even our physical bodies are governed by objective principles; by definitive absolutes; by an uncompromising sense of what is ‘normal’ and what is ‘abnormal;’ what is ‘right’ and what is ‘wrong;’ what is true and what is false and if this is the logic that governs the cosmos, then surely it must govern us also.
Postmodernist thinking has sought to, and largely succeeded in, muddying the waters and blurring the boundaries of ‘fact’ and ‘opinion’ so that the two have become almost interchangeable. ‘Fact’ is fast becoming a taboo concept and wrongly, I believe, equated with narrow-mindedness and ignorance. Increasingly, those things which were once accepted as ‘absolutes’ are now up for debate and scrutiny. This is not, in itself, a negative thing; indeed we would do well as a species if we more frequently questioned and discussed such issues. It was once ‘accepted’ thinking that women were inferior to men, now we scoff at such a idea – and rightly so. But the point is this: postmodernist philosophy is not so concerned with ‘redefining’ something as it is with ‘un-defining’ it. Put another way, we are being encouraged, not to abandon our notions of reality but rather to accept that they are only our notions and not universal absolutes. At first glance this may seem perfectly reasonable – even sensible – but it is nothing of the sort; it is not only incredibly irrational but extremely dangerous and I will explain why this is the case shortly. Let us first take an apparently inane example of a table. Postmodernist thinking would dictate that the table, need not necessarily, be a table! If you or I believe it to be a table, then to us it is a table – that is ‘our truth.’ However, if a third person believes it to be a television then, to him, it is a television – that is ‘his truth.’ What has happened here is that the once clear dividing lines between ‘fact’ and ‘opinion’ have given way to a murky and hazy state of uncertainty and subjectivity. That the table is a table can no longer be accepted as universal fact; now it is, at best, a ‘personal’ fact and, at worst, nothing more than an opinion. The problem with this theory, aside from it being unspeakably ludicrous, is that it defies all reason and logic which, as we’ve already discussed, consequentially means it is at odds with the universe itself! A table is a table. We might call it something else, we might even use it for something else, but its designed purpose is to be a table. If we call it a chair – even if we sit on it – it still remains a table. It is certainly not a television, as anyone who has attempted to tune one into Match of the Day will tell you! It seems evident to me therefore, that what is needed is a redefining of the boundaries between what is fact and what is opinion. A thing cannot be both fact and opinion any more than it can be both true and false. Either a thing is true, or it is false or it is an opinion.
Insisting that ‘opinions’ constitute a third and quite separate category is immensely important because, by their very nature, they can neither be true or false – they are unquantifiable. I am an ardent socialist and, as such, I believe passionately that front-line service (schools, hospitals, public transport and so on) are better off under state ownership. That is my opinion and it is one which I hold most dear. Given the opportunity I could, and would, argue the validity of this position with enormous conviction and, though I say so myself, I suspect, rather persuasively. However, many of my close friends are quite adamant that capitalist private enterprise is the superior option and that our public services would be better off under private ownership. I don’t doubt they would argue their case with equal force and be just as convincing. On both sides of the debate we could undertake case studies, collate data and theoretically scrutinize the finer points of each and yet, if we were both skilled enough, we could manipulate all of these things to substantiate our point of view. The argument would run on indefinitely and we would be forced to conclude that no consensus could ever be reached; there is simply no way to quantify or qualify the evidence from either side to make the matter conclusive. The issue is a purely subjective one. Our notions of what constitute a ‘successful’ public service are poles apart and yet, in their own way, equally valid. But this is not the same as the previous debacle concerning our definition of the table. Either this physical object is a table or it is not. It may well be other things besides a table. We may even choose to call it by a different name, but the ‘absolute truth’ is that it is a table!
If it appears that I have laboured this point somewhat, then I have done so intentionally, because if we cannot agree on something as trivial and seemingly insignificant as a table then we stand little hope against issues of greater importance and profundity. It is here that I would like to return to my assertion that the postmodernist negation of absolute truth and fact is dangerous. Let us move on to something altogether more sobering and significant: the Holocaust. There are those who would have us believe that the Nazis’ systematic annihilation of over six million Jews and countless other ‘undesirables’ is a fabricated myth; that it never happened; that it is not ‘true.’ Postmodernist philosophy holds this stance not only as valid, but as acceptable. More than that, those who propagate such a view are permitted to label their contorted version of events as ‘their truth’ with all the legitimacy and respect that this entitles them to. This is a chilling and repugnant thought and something which, I believe, we should vehemently oppose, but it is the horrifying and yet logical conclusion to a postmodernist approach to ‘truth.’ I cannot help but wonder, if this is the kind of world we wish to live in? Where nothing is certain; where morality itself is allowed to be fluid and subjective; where nothing is held in common and universally adhered to? Maintaining a sense of ‘absoluteness’ is, therefore, something I believe to be not only important but essential. We need ‘definites’; we need universal principles and we need an objective and external notion of truth. I say all this as a passionate liberal and one who despises our country’s prescriptive education system and the all- too- often pious narrow mindedness of religious institutions. What I am not advocating is a dictatorship or, for that matter, an end to necessary and much needed debate on the issue of truth. Quite the opposite, I am calling for more rigorous debate; deeper and more meaningful discussions of the kind that postmodernist philosophy has largely extinguished or sanitised. If there really is such a thing as ‘absolute truth’ then we cannot afford to continue permitting falsities or opinions to masquerade in its stead. This may appear like a recipe for a quiet life but, as we have seen, it is not only precariously risky but utterly illogical. Entertaining the belief that truth is a personal and subjective enterprise is also enormously condescending. It is tantamount to saying “You can believe that if you wish to, but please accept that its only true in your own head!” You can’t get much more patronising than that! However unpalatable we may deem it to be, the only rational and sensible conclusion we can reach is that there is an ‘absolute’ truth; one that transcends time, place, culture, politics, colour, nationality and all other imposing factors.
It is at this point that so many of us turn to philosophy or religion to provide these ‘definites’; this sense of absoluteness; of a predefined and prescriptive code of morality, purpose and destiny. We do so, I consider, to our detriment. This is perhaps a surprising statement coming from someone who would call himself a Christian and a life-long member of the Church, so allow me to explain myself. Whatever their motives and however noble their intentions, the fact remains that all philosophies and all religions are the creations of human-beings. True, they may be rooted in ‘divine revelation’ or even on scientific theory but nevertheless, the religion or the philosophy itself is the invention of man. It is a school of thought, or a code or practise, or an ideology or a set of ethics or doctrines formalised and propagated by men (or women). If the previous examples have highlighted one thing it is that if there really is an ‘absolute’ truth, human beings, on their own, are incapable of discovering it. To return to the analogy of the computer, it would be comparable to asking my laptop to define the purpose of its being – without any human input. Impossible! Much the same applies in the case of us humans and yet, we remain arrogant enough to believe that we can discover this ‘greater meaning’ in isolation! The more we search for meaning and purpose the more introverted and introspective we seem to become. It would appear than mankind has come to a preposterous and completely nonsensical conclusion that ‘the answer;’ that ‘the truth’ lies within. Considering the enormous amount of disparity and variety in human thinking and the wild contradictions that exists between all the world’s major philosophies and religions it would seem to me that within is the very last place we should be looking! Rather, if ‘absolute truth’ really does exist, it will be found without; apart from and quite distinct from ourselves.
So what is it? Well, to be more accurate: Who? I believe I have found it; or to be more precise Him. Jesus Christ made, what to me stands out as, a particularly bold assertion. He said “You will know the Truth and the Truth will set you free” (John 8:32). And when He said ‘Truth’ He was referring to Himself. His claim therefore, was to be Truth itself; the very incarnation; the embodiment of Truth.
Am I really being so bold then as to assert that all other so-called ‘truths;’ all other faiths and philosophies are wrong? Put simply: yes. This does not mean, that I don’t hold a great amount of respect for those of other differing faiths and even admiration for much of what they practise, which I believe is borne out of good intent. Nor does it mean that I am entirely closed minded or that I refuse to listen to conflicting arguments – quite the opposite. I have a profound respect for devout men and women of all faiths who make the choice to live out their convictions daily in a world which so often despises and mocks them. I think we all, of whatever faith or none, have much we can learn from those members of differing religious groups. Indeed humanity would be all the better if we each took the time to educate ourselves about the wide ranging beliefs and practises of those we live alongside. I also have a great fascination for philosophical thought and, unsurprisingly, I find myself allied with many great philosophers and deep thinkers in some of their musings on the complexities of the human condition. I find the philosophy of existentialism enormously interesting and am intrigued by the writings of dramatists and academics such as Samuel Beckett and Albert Camus. I would never be so arrogant as to presume we have nothing to learn from them or even that their assertions are not well thought through. But if Jesus Christ is the absolute Truth – and I believe that He is – then there simply cannot be other ‘absolute truths’ existing in parallel. Of course, other faiths or philosophies may elude to the Truth or even be based on aspects of the Truth, but they themselves are not the Truth.
“Ah” I hear you cry “but how can you be so sure?”
In fact, it is remarkably simple! Surprisingly, it has nothing to do with my ability to prove the existence of God. Any attempt to prove God’s existence is doomed to fail – not because there is insufficient evidence (in fact the opposite is true) but because the very idea is a complete paradox. If there really is a God who created all life forms, who laid in place and now governs the workings of the universe and who holds time itself in the palm of His hands, can we really suggest that his existence could be either proved or disproved by human reason; my manmade logic and argument? We have already seen just how fragile and whimsical human ‘logic’ is! There is no reason to suggest that for every apparently convincing and fool-proof argument invented for the existence of God an equal plausible counter argument could not be formed. God would never leave the validation of such an Absolute concept as Himself to the inadequate and erratic arguments of human beings! It is this last point that really brings all that has been discussed to a head. Absolute Truth does not require human substantiation. Absolute Truth is, by very definition ‘absolute’ and not in any need of external confirmation or justification. Absolute Truth is self evidential; is self referential. Absolute Truth simply Is.
So to return to the original question, I can be sure Jesus is the Truth because I know Jesus and therefore know Him to be True. That may sound like a self effacing argument but it is fact precisely because I cannot prove it. If I were able to prove it then inevitably someone else could just as easily disprove it. Rather I know it – or, to be more accurate, I know Him. I know The Truth and The Truth has indeed, as He asserted, set me free. How and to what effect Christ has ‘set me free’ I fear is the subject of another discussion, but, suffice to say, I do not make such a statement likely. Furthermore, if The Truth promised to ‘set you free’ then this promise, by the necessity of its speaker, must apply universally. The Truth does not set only certain people free some of the time, but rather The Truth sets free all those who know Him. It remains a source of considerable relief to me that ‘absolute truth’ is not a thing to be found in human argument, in reasoning or in our perverted notion of ‘logic.’ ‘Absolute truth’ is not a product of our subjective and therefore warped perspective of life and it is not dependent upon the whimsical and unpredictable state of our human psyche. Absolute Truth is not a philosophy or a science or even a religion. Absolute Truth is a person; a person we can know and who can know us. A person who can deliver us from the otherwise mindless and futile existence we are forced to accept. A person in whom we find meaning and purpose. Absolute Truth is Jesus Christ.
Postmodernist thinking has negated the possibility of ‘absolutes’ and it is this that I wish to challenge firstly. It seems to me, that if we are going to deny the existence of ‘absolutes’ then we must do so universally. That is to say, we cannot reject any idea of an absolute reality or meaning in one area and allow for it in another. If the world, and indeed the universe, is devoid of ultimate meaning, purpose and truth then this must necessarily pervade all aspects of life from the grand philosophical questions concerning the ‘human condition’ down to the minutia of everyday existence. Any subscription to such thinking forces one to the conclusion that nothing is certain, nothing is definitive and nothing is true. Something may well be ‘certain’ for you as an individual but as a universal principle there can be no absolutes. And I mean, no absolutes. It is important that we at once come to such a recognition and an understanding of precisely what postmodernist philosophy is teaching us in relation to ‘truth’ and that we take its fundamental principles to their logical conclusion and there judge it on its merits before we even contemplate buying into it. To fully accept the notion of a complete absence of absolutes is firstly to accept that the universe is entirely chaotic; that it is without order, logic and predictability. To say anything other is to argue for an overarching and external sense of ‘absoluteness’ in so far as it would be to accept that the universe is founded upon principles of certainty and an inherent sense of ‘normality.’ In other words, that the universe was purposefully created along a set of logical, quantifiable and consistent principles. At this juncture, the postmodernist thinkers rub their hands with glee and exclaim “Precisely!” They point to world in all its painful and confusing reality; they site natural disasters, human genocide, disparity of wealth distribution and carnivorous cruelty in the animal kingdom. They site instances where ‘good’ men have died prematurely whilst evil and abhorrent individuals have triumphed; infant mortality and debilitating physical conditions. “There” they cry “is a world of chaos and disorder, without values, principles or ‘rules.’ There is a world where everything is completely arbitrary; random, uncertain, unfair, illogical, unpredictable and contradictory!” Its a convincing argument. Unfortunately, for the Postmodernist, it is deeply flawed and nowhere more than in its failure to take into account the wider picture. Such an existentialist belief in the futility of life falls apart due to the disproportionate focus and significance it places on the dysfunctional tendencies of both humanity and the natural world. It defines the universe by its freak accidents, tragedies and systemic failures rather than by its fundamental mechanisms. Indeed, the very fact that we remain so appalled by suffering, injustice, violence and disaster would suggest an innate sense within our beings that something is not ‘right;’ something in the universe has, if you like, ‘malfunctioned.’ It is not that the world is acting according to its designed purpose – or that is it acting with a lack of designed purpose – but that it is acting contrary to its designed purpose. It is much like a computer with a virus. All computers are made to work in a certain way; to operate according to predefined and encoded principles. They are designed to be consistent, predictable and logical and, for the most part, they are. There are occasions, however, when a PC will, for whatever reason, act contrary to the manner it is designed to. To the laymen observer it will appear chaotic and dysfunctional and we would be rightly angered and frustrated by this. But no one in their right mind would suggest that such a technical malfunction was ‘normal.’ We don’t define computer systems by their failures but by their intended purpose; not by what they shouldn’t do but by what they should! It would seem logical therefore to take the same approach with the larger and more complex mechanism of the universe and, whilst our perspective is inevitably clouded by the very real and present manifestations of chaos and disorder around us, we must surely conclude that the universe itself is ordered and purposeful. The greatest error we make is to equate instances of disorder with absolute disorder. Put another way: we live in a highly ordered universe but one which isn’t operating at optimum capacity; it is, we might say, infected and thus it displays symptoms of chaos and disorder without itself being chaotic or disorderly. If such a position seems nonsensical, please bare with me whilst I corroborate this stance: Notwithstanding the many instances of disharmonious and irrational behaviour demonstrated by both humanity and the wider natural world there remains a definite pattern, a logic and an order to the workings of the universe. Day follows night, the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, the seasons follow one after the other in the same order as they always have done and always will. Even this simple illustration of the passage of time would indicate that, at least our solar system, is governed by quite fixed and absolute rules and fundamental principles. The sun, for instance, does not sometimes set in the east; winter is not sometimes followed by summer and so on. The universe adheres to a quite strict and definite ‘code of conduct’ and it is a code which we can both identify, quantify and, therefore, to some extent, predict. If this were not the case then science and scientific research into the workings of the universe, would be utterly pointless and yield no meaningful results. If the universe were completely arbitrary and chaotic, it would be impossible to measure; impractical to quantify. Every experiment would produce wildly inconsistent results; the whole exercise would be a lottery. And yet this is not the case. Admittedly, there are occasions when nature will throw us a side ball and there will seem no rational or reasonable explanation but, for the most part, the natural world would appear to adhere to a set of rules and operate in a consistent and therefore quantifiable manner. The implication here therefore is that the universe is ordered. Far from being devoid of purpose and logic it is highly purposeful and profoundly logical. It is not arbitrary, nor is it accidental or anarchic and when it appears that way, it is simply an indication, as if we needed one, that our universe and our species has been corrupted; it has been damaged. Exactly why and how this damage has occurred is a subject for another essay, but for the purposes of this argument we must accept that the universe is ‘broken’ and prone to uncharacteristic behaviour that is contrary to its designed purpose. I say all this because I believe it is important to establish that the universe is founded upon a principle of absolutes. There remains a definite sense of ‘correct’ and ‘incorrect’ in the workings of nature and in the genetic make-up of humanity itself. For example, when a hole appeared in the Earth’s ozone layer due to excessive carbon emissions (predominantly on the part of the human race) the Earth did not contend with this state of affairs; it did not ‘accept’ this puncture in its defences as ‘ok’ or ‘normal’ but rather it fought against it and, sure enough, the hole is now greatly reduced in size. Similarly, if the human body contracts an infection or a breakage, its defence system immediately sets to work to combat it. The body does not ‘embrace’ a broken bone or an infection rather it increases its capacity and streamlines its resources into restoring the defect in question. The point I am so elaborately trying to make here is this: the universe, the natural world and even our physical bodies are governed by objective principles; by definitive absolutes; by an uncompromising sense of what is ‘normal’ and what is ‘abnormal;’ what is ‘right’ and what is ‘wrong;’ what is true and what is false and if this is the logic that governs the cosmos, then surely it must govern us also.
Postmodernist thinking has sought to, and largely succeeded in, muddying the waters and blurring the boundaries of ‘fact’ and ‘opinion’ so that the two have become almost interchangeable. ‘Fact’ is fast becoming a taboo concept and wrongly, I believe, equated with narrow-mindedness and ignorance. Increasingly, those things which were once accepted as ‘absolutes’ are now up for debate and scrutiny. This is not, in itself, a negative thing; indeed we would do well as a species if we more frequently questioned and discussed such issues. It was once ‘accepted’ thinking that women were inferior to men, now we scoff at such a idea – and rightly so. But the point is this: postmodernist philosophy is not so concerned with ‘redefining’ something as it is with ‘un-defining’ it. Put another way, we are being encouraged, not to abandon our notions of reality but rather to accept that they are only our notions and not universal absolutes. At first glance this may seem perfectly reasonable – even sensible – but it is nothing of the sort; it is not only incredibly irrational but extremely dangerous and I will explain why this is the case shortly. Let us first take an apparently inane example of a table. Postmodernist thinking would dictate that the table, need not necessarily, be a table! If you or I believe it to be a table, then to us it is a table – that is ‘our truth.’ However, if a third person believes it to be a television then, to him, it is a television – that is ‘his truth.’ What has happened here is that the once clear dividing lines between ‘fact’ and ‘opinion’ have given way to a murky and hazy state of uncertainty and subjectivity. That the table is a table can no longer be accepted as universal fact; now it is, at best, a ‘personal’ fact and, at worst, nothing more than an opinion. The problem with this theory, aside from it being unspeakably ludicrous, is that it defies all reason and logic which, as we’ve already discussed, consequentially means it is at odds with the universe itself! A table is a table. We might call it something else, we might even use it for something else, but its designed purpose is to be a table. If we call it a chair – even if we sit on it – it still remains a table. It is certainly not a television, as anyone who has attempted to tune one into Match of the Day will tell you! It seems evident to me therefore, that what is needed is a redefining of the boundaries between what is fact and what is opinion. A thing cannot be both fact and opinion any more than it can be both true and false. Either a thing is true, or it is false or it is an opinion.
Insisting that ‘opinions’ constitute a third and quite separate category is immensely important because, by their very nature, they can neither be true or false – they are unquantifiable. I am an ardent socialist and, as such, I believe passionately that front-line service (schools, hospitals, public transport and so on) are better off under state ownership. That is my opinion and it is one which I hold most dear. Given the opportunity I could, and would, argue the validity of this position with enormous conviction and, though I say so myself, I suspect, rather persuasively. However, many of my close friends are quite adamant that capitalist private enterprise is the superior option and that our public services would be better off under private ownership. I don’t doubt they would argue their case with equal force and be just as convincing. On both sides of the debate we could undertake case studies, collate data and theoretically scrutinize the finer points of each and yet, if we were both skilled enough, we could manipulate all of these things to substantiate our point of view. The argument would run on indefinitely and we would be forced to conclude that no consensus could ever be reached; there is simply no way to quantify or qualify the evidence from either side to make the matter conclusive. The issue is a purely subjective one. Our notions of what constitute a ‘successful’ public service are poles apart and yet, in their own way, equally valid. But this is not the same as the previous debacle concerning our definition of the table. Either this physical object is a table or it is not. It may well be other things besides a table. We may even choose to call it by a different name, but the ‘absolute truth’ is that it is a table!
If it appears that I have laboured this point somewhat, then I have done so intentionally, because if we cannot agree on something as trivial and seemingly insignificant as a table then we stand little hope against issues of greater importance and profundity. It is here that I would like to return to my assertion that the postmodernist negation of absolute truth and fact is dangerous. Let us move on to something altogether more sobering and significant: the Holocaust. There are those who would have us believe that the Nazis’ systematic annihilation of over six million Jews and countless other ‘undesirables’ is a fabricated myth; that it never happened; that it is not ‘true.’ Postmodernist philosophy holds this stance not only as valid, but as acceptable. More than that, those who propagate such a view are permitted to label their contorted version of events as ‘their truth’ with all the legitimacy and respect that this entitles them to. This is a chilling and repugnant thought and something which, I believe, we should vehemently oppose, but it is the horrifying and yet logical conclusion to a postmodernist approach to ‘truth.’ I cannot help but wonder, if this is the kind of world we wish to live in? Where nothing is certain; where morality itself is allowed to be fluid and subjective; where nothing is held in common and universally adhered to? Maintaining a sense of ‘absoluteness’ is, therefore, something I believe to be not only important but essential. We need ‘definites’; we need universal principles and we need an objective and external notion of truth. I say all this as a passionate liberal and one who despises our country’s prescriptive education system and the all- too- often pious narrow mindedness of religious institutions. What I am not advocating is a dictatorship or, for that matter, an end to necessary and much needed debate on the issue of truth. Quite the opposite, I am calling for more rigorous debate; deeper and more meaningful discussions of the kind that postmodernist philosophy has largely extinguished or sanitised. If there really is such a thing as ‘absolute truth’ then we cannot afford to continue permitting falsities or opinions to masquerade in its stead. This may appear like a recipe for a quiet life but, as we have seen, it is not only precariously risky but utterly illogical. Entertaining the belief that truth is a personal and subjective enterprise is also enormously condescending. It is tantamount to saying “You can believe that if you wish to, but please accept that its only true in your own head!” You can’t get much more patronising than that! However unpalatable we may deem it to be, the only rational and sensible conclusion we can reach is that there is an ‘absolute’ truth; one that transcends time, place, culture, politics, colour, nationality and all other imposing factors.
It is at this point that so many of us turn to philosophy or religion to provide these ‘definites’; this sense of absoluteness; of a predefined and prescriptive code of morality, purpose and destiny. We do so, I consider, to our detriment. This is perhaps a surprising statement coming from someone who would call himself a Christian and a life-long member of the Church, so allow me to explain myself. Whatever their motives and however noble their intentions, the fact remains that all philosophies and all religions are the creations of human-beings. True, they may be rooted in ‘divine revelation’ or even on scientific theory but nevertheless, the religion or the philosophy itself is the invention of man. It is a school of thought, or a code or practise, or an ideology or a set of ethics or doctrines formalised and propagated by men (or women). If the previous examples have highlighted one thing it is that if there really is an ‘absolute’ truth, human beings, on their own, are incapable of discovering it. To return to the analogy of the computer, it would be comparable to asking my laptop to define the purpose of its being – without any human input. Impossible! Much the same applies in the case of us humans and yet, we remain arrogant enough to believe that we can discover this ‘greater meaning’ in isolation! The more we search for meaning and purpose the more introverted and introspective we seem to become. It would appear than mankind has come to a preposterous and completely nonsensical conclusion that ‘the answer;’ that ‘the truth’ lies within. Considering the enormous amount of disparity and variety in human thinking and the wild contradictions that exists between all the world’s major philosophies and religions it would seem to me that within is the very last place we should be looking! Rather, if ‘absolute truth’ really does exist, it will be found without; apart from and quite distinct from ourselves.
So what is it? Well, to be more accurate: Who? I believe I have found it; or to be more precise Him. Jesus Christ made, what to me stands out as, a particularly bold assertion. He said “You will know the Truth and the Truth will set you free” (John 8:32). And when He said ‘Truth’ He was referring to Himself. His claim therefore, was to be Truth itself; the very incarnation; the embodiment of Truth.
Am I really being so bold then as to assert that all other so-called ‘truths;’ all other faiths and philosophies are wrong? Put simply: yes. This does not mean, that I don’t hold a great amount of respect for those of other differing faiths and even admiration for much of what they practise, which I believe is borne out of good intent. Nor does it mean that I am entirely closed minded or that I refuse to listen to conflicting arguments – quite the opposite. I have a profound respect for devout men and women of all faiths who make the choice to live out their convictions daily in a world which so often despises and mocks them. I think we all, of whatever faith or none, have much we can learn from those members of differing religious groups. Indeed humanity would be all the better if we each took the time to educate ourselves about the wide ranging beliefs and practises of those we live alongside. I also have a great fascination for philosophical thought and, unsurprisingly, I find myself allied with many great philosophers and deep thinkers in some of their musings on the complexities of the human condition. I find the philosophy of existentialism enormously interesting and am intrigued by the writings of dramatists and academics such as Samuel Beckett and Albert Camus. I would never be so arrogant as to presume we have nothing to learn from them or even that their assertions are not well thought through. But if Jesus Christ is the absolute Truth – and I believe that He is – then there simply cannot be other ‘absolute truths’ existing in parallel. Of course, other faiths or philosophies may elude to the Truth or even be based on aspects of the Truth, but they themselves are not the Truth.
“Ah” I hear you cry “but how can you be so sure?”
In fact, it is remarkably simple! Surprisingly, it has nothing to do with my ability to prove the existence of God. Any attempt to prove God’s existence is doomed to fail – not because there is insufficient evidence (in fact the opposite is true) but because the very idea is a complete paradox. If there really is a God who created all life forms, who laid in place and now governs the workings of the universe and who holds time itself in the palm of His hands, can we really suggest that his existence could be either proved or disproved by human reason; my manmade logic and argument? We have already seen just how fragile and whimsical human ‘logic’ is! There is no reason to suggest that for every apparently convincing and fool-proof argument invented for the existence of God an equal plausible counter argument could not be formed. God would never leave the validation of such an Absolute concept as Himself to the inadequate and erratic arguments of human beings! It is this last point that really brings all that has been discussed to a head. Absolute Truth does not require human substantiation. Absolute Truth is, by very definition ‘absolute’ and not in any need of external confirmation or justification. Absolute Truth is self evidential; is self referential. Absolute Truth simply Is.
So to return to the original question, I can be sure Jesus is the Truth because I know Jesus and therefore know Him to be True. That may sound like a self effacing argument but it is fact precisely because I cannot prove it. If I were able to prove it then inevitably someone else could just as easily disprove it. Rather I know it – or, to be more accurate, I know Him. I know The Truth and The Truth has indeed, as He asserted, set me free. How and to what effect Christ has ‘set me free’ I fear is the subject of another discussion, but, suffice to say, I do not make such a statement likely. Furthermore, if The Truth promised to ‘set you free’ then this promise, by the necessity of its speaker, must apply universally. The Truth does not set only certain people free some of the time, but rather The Truth sets free all those who know Him. It remains a source of considerable relief to me that ‘absolute truth’ is not a thing to be found in human argument, in reasoning or in our perverted notion of ‘logic.’ ‘Absolute truth’ is not a product of our subjective and therefore warped perspective of life and it is not dependent upon the whimsical and unpredictable state of our human psyche. Absolute Truth is not a philosophy or a science or even a religion. Absolute Truth is a person; a person we can know and who can know us. A person who can deliver us from the otherwise mindless and futile existence we are forced to accept. A person in whom we find meaning and purpose. Absolute Truth is Jesus Christ.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)