Tuesday, July 17, 2018

RELIGION AS A THERAPEUTIC TOOL AND NOT AS THE TRUTH



In an article appearing in the New York Times (6/3/18), professor of philosophy, Stephen Asma, correctly claimed that religion can provide the comfort and community that science cannot:

  • “My claim is that religion can provide direct access to this emotional life in ways that science does not. Yes, science can give us emotional feelings of wonder at the majesty of nature, but there are many forms of human suffering that are beyond the reach of any scientific alleviation. Different emotional stresses require different kinds of rescue.”

However, Asma, by throwing all religions into the same bag, denies that any of them can comfort by virtue of the truth of their doctrines, but just about the emotional (not rational) hope and comfort that they provide. In doing so, he illegitimately separates hope from truth:

  • Those of us in the secular world who critique such emotional responses and [religious] strategies with the refrain, “But is it true?” are missing the point. Most religious beliefs are not true. But here’s the crux. The emotional brain doesn’t care. It doesn’t operate on the grounds of true and false. Emotions are not true or false. Even a terrible fear inside a dream is still a terrible fear. This means that the criteria for measuring a healthy theory are not the criteria for measuring a healthy emotion. Unlike a healthy theory, which must correspond with empirical facts, a healthy emotion is one that contributes to neurochemical homeostasis or other affective states that promote biological flourishing.

Consequently, Asma is recommending a divided rather than an integrated life where hope must be based on truth.

However, can we have hope and the obvious comfort we derive from it if we no longer believe in the supporting truths underpinning that “hope?” I don’t see how!

I recently conversed with a lovely young college-educated Taoist couple whom I met in a Taoist temple. They shared with me the importance of maintaining continuity with their family and traditions, but confessed that they no longer believed in the teachings of Taoism, apart from the moral ones.

I began wondering what comfort and hope could Taoism give them with the loss of a child or health? Seemingly, very little. Could they expect to be reunited with their parents or children in the next life?Indirectly, they admitted that they could not.

If we believe that our hope is not based on a foundation of truth, it will evaporate like the morning dew along with the comfort it was supposed to provide. And this lovely couple was just beginning to realize this, but they had not yet been directly confronted with the horrors of life. Appropriately, they referred to themselves as millennials.

We are wholistic creations. Satisfaction is largely the result of reconciling our feelings, experiences, and hopes with truth. It is only within the boundaries of this harmonious marriage that we can thrive and find peace and stability.

However, hope is also being divorced from the truth even in the Church. Millennial church leaders are springing up who call themselves “Christian Agnostics.” While they identify as Christians, they also insist that there is no way of knowing the truth about the Bible, just as their secular society has been preaching. Consequently, they preach Scripture without actually believing that it is true.

As such, they are living a schizoid life - their emotions telling them one thing while their mind informs them to the contrary. I do not see how such a “hope” can stand for long.

One agnostic leader parroted the oft repeated phrase that no one can really know. I then asked him how he could KNOW that no one could know. He was being dogmatic about a subject where he claimed that no one could rightfully be dogmatic.

I then asked him if he had read any of the books that had ably defended the truth of the Christian faith. He answered that he hadn’t.

I therefore asked him why he hadn’t in light of the fact that he claimed to be a Christian and that he is a leader. Once again, silence.

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