Here's a review of a new book by Karen Armstrong, in which she makes her response to the views of the modern militant atheists.
If the review is accurate, I have an immediate problem with her version of the history of religion (in much the same way many have had a problem with her history of Islam):
Karen Armstrong takes the reader through a history of religious practice in many different cultures, arguing that in the good old days and purest forms they all come to much the same thing. They use devices of ritual, mystery, drama, dance and meditation in order to enable us better to cope with the vale of tears in which we find ourselves. Religion is therefore properly a matter of a practice, and may be compared with art or music....That sentence in bold, if it reflects Armstrong's arguments, sounds hard to justify. I mean, you don't have to read much of the history of early Christianity to be struck by the seriousness of the intellectual battles over how Jesus was to be properly understood. Wikipedia gives a list of pre-reformation "controversial movements", and Paul Johnson in his enjoyable "History of Christianity" made the point that many of the early Christian theological controversies were beset with language difficulties: he writes that Greek lent itself to complexity in theological discussion, but finding equivalent words in Latin proved difficult:
This is religion as it should be, and, according to Armstrong, as it once was in all the world's best traditions. However, there is a serpent in this paradise, as in others. Or rather, several serpents, but the worst is the folly of intellectualising the practice. This makes it into a matter of belief, argument, and ultimately dogma. It debases religion into a matter of belief in a certain number of propositions, so that if you can recite those sincerely you are an adept, and if you can't you fail. This is Armstrong's principal target. With the scientific triumphs of the 17th century, religion stopped being a practice and started to become a theory - in particular the theory of the divine architect. This is a perversion of anything valuable in religious practice, Armstrong writes, and it is only this perverted view that arouses the scorn of modern "militant" atheists. So Dawkins, Dennett, Hitchens and Harris have chosen a straw man as a target. Real religion is serenely immune to their discovery that it is silly to talk of a divine architect.
The upshot was that it proved comparatively easy to devise a definition in the Latin West; much more difficult to produce one for the Greek East, and almost impossible to create a translatable formula which both East and West could accept in good faith.My point is: intellectual understanding of itself has always been important in Christianity, not just since the 17 th century. Maybe she argues that to the average participant in Christianity, such debates had little practical impact. That might be plausible, but isn't the exact nature of (say) a 5th century congregation's personal understanding of their religion at least a little hard to judge that from this point in time?
According to the review, Armstrong thinks this:
So what should the religious adept actually say by way of expressing his or her faith? Nothing. This is the "apophatic" tradition, in which nothing about God can be put into words. Armstrong firmly recommends silence, having written at least 15 books on the topic. Words such as "God" have to be seen as symbols, not names, but any word falls short of describing what it symbolises, and will always be inadequate, contradictory, metaphorical or allegorical. The mystery at the heart of religious practice is ineffable, unapproachable by reason and by language. Silence is its truest expression.Well, this immersion in mystery is certainly what the likes of Peter Kennedy and his St Mary's in Exile crowd are now promoting.
The author of the review is skeptical, as am I.
This is a tricky area: from a Catholic perspective, mystical or meditative experience is certainly not dismissed as invalid; but I think it would be fair to say that the mystically inclined saints of the Church never doubted the concrete reality of the God that they believed the human mind was inadequate to perceive. The Cloud of Unknowing hid a mountain. The problem with the pop-mysticism of today, with all of it's "everything we can say about God is just a metaphor for the great mystery" approach is that it has converted God into a cloudbank with nothing solid in the centre at all.
Simon Blackburn says this at the end of his review of Armstrong:
Silence is just that. It is a kind of lowest common denominator of the human mind. The machine is idling. Which direction it then goes after a period of idling is a highly unpredictable matter. As David Hume put it, in human nature there is "some particle of the dove, mixed in with the wolf and the serpent". So we can expect that some directions will be better and others worse. And that is what, alas, we always find, with or without the song and dance.Sounds about right. How can anyone be sure that the meditative practice, or "song and dance" does have a significant effect on the ethical or moral behaviour of the participant in their dealings with others? If you want to address behaviour that is wrong, you need to be able to articulate why it is wrong, not just take the transgressor by the hand and share a quiet moment together. In fact, couldn't it be argued that indigenous cultures had plenty of time for ritual, yet some treated people (women, children and rivals) in pretty appalling ways. The abundance of ritual did not obviously make them more "moral" societies.
Blackburn makes the point that the "proof in the pudding is not my beatific smile but how I behave." For the religious at least, how you behave should surely be significantly influenced by your intellectual understanding of what your religion is about, not just your emotional experience of participating in ritual or worshipping mystery for the sake of mystery.
Bored? Sorry.
UPDATE: Jesus, Mo (& Moses) explain why Armstrong's approach is unappealing.
1 comment:
"If you want to address behaviour that is wrong, you need to be able to articulate why it is wrong, not just take the transgressor by the hand and share a quiet moment together."
I think the above is a false dichotomy. Meditative practice merely enhances the ability to be more skillful while executing a chosen action or non-action. It's cultivated in quietude, but used in the noisy field.
To address your understandable quote about voicing opinions — most people are rarely argued into changing, and usually indirect reasons are to blame for one's opinion, attitude or worldview [one's identity, family, or misunderstandings of past experience, for example]. Anyone who has engaged in serious debate with a person entrenched in the factors mentioned in the previous sentence knows that words alone don't suffice. Neither does silence, necessarily. But quiet, rigorous examination of one's mind cultivates the ability to quickly perceive and act in the outside world.
Then one can use the mixed approach of perceptiveness, communication and empathy to address AND change a human's behaviour.
To paraphrase Aristotle: anyone can sound off. But the ability to simultaneously locate the right time to discuss, the right purpose to guide, and the the best way to engage the person/audience takes rigorous, often quiet, premeditated cultivation.
Cheers,
J
Post a Comment