Without God, Without Creed

I read Without God, Without Creed by James Turner for my comprehensive exam just a week or so before the actual exam. The book traces the history of when and how it became possible to deny belief in God in American intellectual life. The conclusion of the book spoke to me on a personal level, so much so that I typed it all up for myself (and you all) to read:

Whether the emergence of unbelief was a good thing or a bad may become clearer to us in a few more centuries. But that it was an important thing is already clear. Neither belief nor unbelief should be adopted unthinkingly, but only after the most serious reflection. The history of unbelief makes clear that the choice matters, for it influences our entire outlook. As to what the choice should be, a historian is lucky enough to be able legitimately to plead professional incompetence.

Readers, notoriously perverse, will find their own lessons in this story; but I think that two merit pointing out. Those who wish to believe in God ought to realize that, if belief is to remain plausible over the long haul, they cannot regard God as if human, sharing human interests and purpose, accessible to human comprehension. And both believers and unbelievers ought to keep in mind that no one way of knowing reality is the last, best form of human knowledge—more: that no one form of knowing can possibly navigate the labyrinth of reality.

Yet perhaps, after all, there is really only one lesson here. The universe it not tailored to our measurements. Forgetting that, many believers lost their God. So may we all run into trouble.

When he explains that "many believers lost their God," he is referring to the fact that in the late 19th century some American Christians stopped believing in God, because the God of the Bible did not live up to their moral standards for humanity. I can relate to this process, because it is similar to the one that I went through in leaving my church now 4 years ago. That was not my only reason for leaving, but I often chafed at the idea that anyone who hadn't subscribed to a particular doctrinal view of Christ was not and could not enjoy the afterlife (if such a thing is real). My former church had particularly rigid understanding of biblical truth and a stark view of history that didn't make sense to me and made God out to be a very cruel being (in my estimation of things).

Of course, I was told, like Turner himself insists, that God's thoughts are not my thoughts. However, the idea was that God's transcendence explained doctrine that didn't make sense--not that God is in fact truly inaccessible in human terms. No matter how much I struggled to make sense of it all, the reasons that other people gave me for remaining in the faith despite their doubts did not work for me. I wasn't living the best life possible for me; I wasn't fulfilled by a deep and meaningful connection to God and others; and I didn't find my connection to other people deeply enhanced by my faith.

In fact, I often found that the 'rules' of the community made me feel disconnected from the members of my own community because I couldn't avoid feeling obligated to them (rather than genuinely enjoying their company). I had many friends outside of the church community, too, but there was distance between us at times also because of my attempts to adhere to the black and white lines drawn between members inside the community and those outside.

However, I agree with Turner's claim that no one way of knowing reality it the last, best form of human knowledge—more: that no one form of knowing can possibly navigate the labyrinth of reality. I want to maintain this humility before others and before reality. I certainly cannot know and comprehend everything through my own open-ended and vague belief system. Yet I always reach an impasse, because I don't deal well with inconsistency. This is why I couldn't maintain the faith--it was inconsistent with my beliefs about justice, love, and morality. And this is why I can't adopt another faith--all faiths exclude on some level. I just hope that I can remain humble enough not to think that I've got it all figured out.