Religious sentiment is very often driven by the need to justify one’s existence in the universe. After all, the universe itself appears as a brute fact, a seemingly radical contingency. It’s just “there,” this unapologetic looming monstrosity in which we “live and move and have our being.” We see the innumerable stars above us; we experience the sweep of the ocean’s expanse; we encounter the “numinous” wonder that accompanies the accidental, the non-necessary, the sheer gratuity of existence itself.
This world. We find ourselves embedded within it, victims of our genetics, collaborators of our own social/economic history, and generally subject to the affairs of the technocratic and political world around us. It is a given. It is immense.
“Why is there something rather than nothing?” asked Heidegger, which is perhaps one of the most fundamental questions we can ask ourselves. After all, unless we are prepared to abandon ourselves to irrationalism (sadly, many of us do), we must seek a rational account of the origin of the universe itself.
Some people grow cynical of the haunting questions and devise faux attitudes of superiority regarding the “stories we tell ourselves.” These sorts of “intellectuals” flatter themselves by believing they are able to transcend the overarching questions that arise in response to the “is-ness” of life. Jaded, tired, and yet magically exempted from the frailties that beset us all, they tell us that they are privy to the “inner working” of narrative. Some of these self-styled “chosen” ones will even pretend to be able to see beyond the pathetic periphery of our normal lives to foretell us our future. Sadly enough, their future is entirely bereft of any abiding hope.
Such intellectuals of today (Foucault, Baudrillard, Lyotard, Derrida, Rorty, etc.) are really anti-intellectuals, absurdists, clowns…. Like charismatic churches steeped in the (unconscious) despair of postmodern thinking, they speak glossolalia that only few will be attuned. Despairing of reason and the ability to think clearly about life, these “thinkers” have chosen to opt-out of the game, gaining precious little solace by their shared pretense. They are condemned to themselves and, unless they repent, will inherit their own empty souls for eternity.
Unlike those who have abandoned themselves to despair, the religious sentiment seeks some form of self-justification in the world. Rituals, mummeries, chants, formulas, etc., are all meant to put a facade on the moral reach within each soul. For the religionist, the law is not only prescriptive, but descriptive. There are “insiders” and “outsiders.” There are those who are “righteous” and those who are not.
Perhaps this explains something of the scandal of the gospel. “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. I came not to call the righteous, but sinners” (Mark 2:17). The soferim (scribes) and the p’rushim (pharisees) were consistently among Jesus’ most ardent opponents. It was bad enough to suggest that their doctoring was suspect (“you can’t give away what you don’t have”), but it was even more of an affront to suggest that they themselves were spiritual sick…
Look, ANYONE who believes he or she has the “answer,” who is healthy, who “has it together” or is otherwise smug or complacent regarding their inward condition will find themseves in opposition to Him. As Paul said it, “if anyone thinks he is something, when he is nothing, he deceives himself” (Gal 6:3).
Human pride must come to a catastrophic end. God is patient, but the hands of the clock are always moving… You are now one moment closer to the day of your death.
There is the Cross of Jesus, which provides the verdict and hope, or there is the end of futile imagination – that parasite that feeds on the true language of hope and arrogates it for itself. You can’t have it both ways.