Reasonable Atheism (33): Moral generativity

Just pursuing a theme from the previous post (and it links in with bls’s comment): one of the ways in which I see the humourless atheist position as deficient is that I believe it is severely lacking in moral generativity. I need to explain what I mean by that.

Pursuing the good life involves rules, but it’s not ultimately a matter of following rules. There needs to be some awareness of the good that is sought by the following of rules; in other words, over time, what is most needed is an awareness of when the rules need to be broken in order to preserve what the rules were there for in the first place! This is the Christian debate about Law and Grace, but you don’t have to use theological language to understand the point.

Any creative or craftsman-like endeavour involves an awareness of learning the rules, then learning when to break the rules. There is an aphorism that goes something like: the student follows the rules, the rebel breaks the rules, the master transcends the rules (because both the rebel and the student are equally bound into rule following).

Now, when we are talking about how to navigate our lives, how to determine what is valuable and what is trivial, what sort of shape of life to pursue – Christians have recourse not just to a two-thousand year history of rules and rule development; they also have access to the founding narratives which provide a context within which to argue about whether the rules are right or not. This allows for something new to develop within the understanding of the faith. There is a space within which new forms of rules, and new understandings of the rules, and new understandings of how to assess the rules (ie to look at the rules from above) can come. In other words, there are resources here with which to build a life creatively, not just from an assembly line. This is what I mean by moral generativity.

This is important because whilst human nature remains more or less constant, the cultural situations within which humans find themselves change all the time, and thus the moral discernment needed has to develop over time too. Consider: what is the morality of using a car? We are in a new situation, we need to develop new thinking. Christianity has the resources required to meet this sort of question, as do other wisdom traditions.

I want to know what the moral resources are for a humourless atheist? What are the guiding narratives and structures from which the integrity of a life can be built, which allow a space within which to pursue the good life? Humourless atheism, just does not seem to have this. It is parasitic on other wisdom traditions – principally, but not exclusively, Christianity.

(Of course, as soon as a positive answer is given to this line of questioning, the humourless atheist is no longer such – now there is a positive hook on which to hang identity. More on that another time.)

Reasonable Atheism (32): How do you navigate your life?

Christianity – or, more precisely, Jesus himself, as LOGOS – provides the context through which I understand the meaning of my life. It expresses the framework by which I assess what is valuable and what is trivial, what counts as good and evil. It’s not simply that I download a Christian operating system and then run it on my wetware; there is a discussion and argument and interrogation and self-analysis and slowly, over time, I own more and more of the Christian world-view. It becomes a central part of who I am. There are some exceptions, some grey areas, some bits where I suspect I will one day understand, some bits where I think I will always resist. But Christianity is the framework; it is, in a real sense, how I navigate my life. It tells me (expresses for me) what way is up.

One way of distinguishing between a reasonable and a humourless atheist is that the former understands this and, indeed, can offer an answer to the question ‘How do you navigate your life?’ There will then be an offering of their own navigation system, whether that be a different faith or something like humanism or Stoicism. Whereas a humourless atheist will normally try and avoid the question, often trying to argue that is makes no sense – in other words, they don’t ‘get it’ (hence, they are humourless).

Whereas I find that the most interesting of conversations come when we find out what it is that people most value, and how they are then able to talk about them, and to establish common ground and areas of difference. It is the sort of thing that can enable those of different faiths (or different varieties of the same faith, or those of no faith) to come together on common projects.

Humourless atheists can’t take part in this conversation. I think they miss out on something essentially human as a result. Of course, I also think that such a position is incoherent and unjustifiable – but that’s the point of distinguishing one atheism from another.

Is this a strawman? Are there any humourless atheists? Sam Harris would appear to be one.

Other posts on atheism here.

Honest Scrap

Peter Kirk tagged me with this, “Iโ€™m supposed to tell you 10 HONEST things about myself and then nominate 7 other blogs that I think deserve to receive the Honest Scrap Award.”

Hey, everything I write on here is honest! (Some of it is scrap without the s too ๐Ÿ˜‰ And I’ve done this sort of thing before… So this’ll be brief, and I’m not going to tag anyone else.

1. I’m completely deaf in my left ear since birth.
2. I’m learning to sail.
3. I’m going on sabbatical this autumn, hoping to finish my LUBH book, and do some more sailing.
4. I grew up on a houseboat about ten miles up river from where I am now.
5. I’m married with three kids, a dog and a parrot.
6. I’m in therapy, which is a good thing.
7. I’m really enjoying learning to ride a motorbike.
8. I have permission from my Bishop to stop doing some of the things that I have been doing, because even he now thinks I’ve been doing too much!!!
9. I haven’t blogged properly (or sung the Eucharistic prayer) since early May (let the reader understand). I expect this psychological blockage to ease during the sabbatical.
10. I am writing this using a new computer but my old (and very mucky) keyboard, because the shape of the keys on the new keyboard is slightly and annoyingly different. Time to invest in a keyboard cleaner.

Angel-A


Fabulous, wonderful and a new contender for one of my top ten films. It would have been perfect without the last 90 seconds or so, which I feel spoiled it a little. It would be interesting to read an analysis of this film as compared with It’s a Wonderful Life (which IS one of my all-time favourites), especially the shift from a more social sense of worth to the contemporary psychological/self-help sense of worth. If I can’t find the article I might end up writing it myself!

Four and three-quarters out of five.

On missing John Hughes

I must have seen Breakfast Club more than thirty times when I was a teenager. I even bought the soundtrack album (which I still have somewhere). That might qualify as too much information ๐Ÿ™‚

“Their deaths make me feel old, but more than that, they make me aware of belonging to a generation that has yet to figure out adulthood, for whom life can feel like a long John Hughes movie. You know the one. That Spandau Ballet song is playing at the big dance. You remember the lyrics, even if itโ€™s been years since you heard them last. This is the sound of my soul. I bought a ticket to the world, but now Iโ€™ve come back again. Why do I find it hard to write the next line?”

Lots of other things around, like this one.

Our best days lie ahead

Via Grandmere Mimi:

“The battle isn’t about God. It’s about fear, control and property.

The anti-change minority wants to reclaim a world that no longer exists.

They want to seize property that doesn’t belong to them. Archbishop, you are being used.

If it’s any consolation, Archbishop, I don’t like some of the changes in my church, either. I think we have rewarded institutional tinkering and stopped dreaming. We depend on style and not substance. We worry about inherited property and not about the world outside our doors. We fuss about who is ordained when we should be nurturing healthy congregations.

Fear abounds. Fear of offending longtime members and deep-pocket givers. Fear of speaking freely and dreaming grandly. Fear of trying hard and maybe failing. Fear of preaching a Gospel more radical than anything we’ve said.

But many are determined to get beyond fear — by taking one brave step at a time, learning to be nimble and to listen, learning from our failures, taking risks.

The dilemma facing Episcopalians is that “soon, and very soon we are going to see the King.” Our buildings may crumble, our endowments may tumble, and all we have left is each other and our faith.

Will we have any song to sing when the great pipe organs are stilled? Will we have any prayer to say when comfortable pews are gone?

Will we sit in circles of love when nice parlors are sold? Will we love our neighbors when we cannot hire staff to do it for us?

I think we will have that faith. I think we already have it. It’s just hard to see when so much energy goes into institutionalism and fighting.

I think our best days lie ahead.”

Not just about the current shenanigans, and rather a timely read for me.

TBTM20090806


A thought for the feast today: if James, Peter and John had been Muslim, would they have seen Mohammed rather than Moses on Mount Tabor?

Today’s link: Be lucky (also the name of one of my favourite Show of Hands songs.)