Waiting for Godot, by Samuel Beckett, is widely considered to be the most important play of the 20th Century. If you’ve never read it, the full text is available here.

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Suppose someone wanting to learn to dance said: “For hundreds of years now one generation after another has been learning dance steps, it’s high time I took advantage of this and began straight off with a set of quadrilles.” One would surely laugh at him; but in the world of spirit such an attitude is considered utterly plausible.

– Soren Kierkegaard, Fear and Trembling, Preamble from the Heart

I discovered this truth at age 14, when I took the faith I was raised with and wrestled with it and made it my own. I soon found that I had to repeat this discovery with every truth I had learned in my life. I’d learned the difference between an objective truth and a subjective truth. You can say something is true without actually being able to articulate why that thing is true. You can know something is true without being willing to change your life because of it.

The term “subjective truth” has gotten such a bad rap in the church at large simply because people don’t understand what it means. I think any serious Postmodernist would agree that letting every person decide for themselves what is good and evil represents a rather shallow and egocentric understanding of truth.

What’s more, I think the church could really benefit from teaching people to discover the roots of truths rather than just saying that they’re true. I can’t tell you how many conversations I’ve had with people that fall apart because they don’t know the foundations of what they uphold as true.

I’m not saying that die-hard Modernists don’t understand the things the hold to be true. I’m just saying that the church in general seems to have a bit of a problem with that, and it could be helped by a change in approach.

http://www.qwantz.com/apologies/000078.html

From the guy who brought you Dinosaur Comics.

I just started Fear and Trembling by Kierkegaard. Here’s an excerpt from the first paragraph of the second chapter:

An old proverb fetched from the outward aspect of the visible world says: “Only the man that works gets the bread.” Strangely enough this proverb does not aptly apply in that world to which it expressly belongs. For the outward world is subjected to the law of imperfection, and again and again the experience is repeated that he too who does not work gets the bread, and that he who sleeps gets it more abundantly than the man who works. In the outward world everything is made payable to the bearer, this world is in bondage to the law of indifference, and to him who has the ring, the spirit of the ring is obedient, whether he be Noureddin or Aladdin, and he who has the world’s treasure, has it, however he got it. It is different in the world of spirit. Here an eternal divine order prevails, here it does not rain both upon the just and upon the unjust, here the sun does not shine both upon the good and upon the evil, here it holds good that only he who works gets the bread, only he who was in anguish finds repose, only he who descends into the underworld rescues the beloved, only he who draws the knife gets Isaac.

I think I’m going to like this book. If you’re interested but don’t want to shell out the money for your own copy, the entire text is online here.

I think this passage illuminates something C.S. Lewis touched on. Almost every human has a conception of justice and what is fair. This is usually a very strong notion. But when you look at the world around us, it’s hardly fair. The natural law is that the strong take, and the weak are taken or taken from. Goodness is not rewarded unless it translates into strength. I think most people would agree that this isn’t really “fair.”

Where we get this concept of fairness from is a mystery, since it rarely actually exists in nature. Lewis says that this conception is inborn in humanity and present because of our formation in God’s image. Many of the philosophers (excluding most of the Postmodern persuasion) would say that this is simply human transcendence—rising above nature.

Anyway, I have my thoughts (I’m in the Lewis camp). I want to hear yours. Why do we have a conception of justice that is thoroughly unrealistic (meaning seldom found in our perceivable reality)?

Suppose two opposing armies drawn up in the field, and that a knight arrives whom both armies invite to fight on their side; he makes is choice, is vanquishes and taken prisoner. As prisoner, he is brought before the victor, to whom he foolishly presumes to offer his services on the same terms as were extended to him before the battle. Would not the victor say to him: My friend, you are now my prisoner; there was indeed a time when you could have chosen differently, but not everything is changed…. “One who throws a stone has power over it until he has thrown it, but not afterwards” (Aristotle). Otherwise throwing would be an illusion; the thrower would keep the stone in his hand in spite of all his throwing.

I look back now at what I cast my stones into—web design, writing, and music—and wonder what it had been like had I cast my stones elsewhere.

There are days I still dream of being a psychologist or a counselor, as if that were a stone I could still cast. (I can’t say that I’m entirely convinced that it’s not.) I’ve taken a slew of career assessment tests that tell me what job I’d be most suited for, and all of them list psychology or counseling as the top profession. At the time I was casting these stones (college), this wasn’t even a consideration of mine. I didn’t have any real interest in psychology until my senior year or so, so I don’t have any formal training in it, and that’s not really a field you can get into without a Master’s degree.

There are days I wonder what my life would be like had I stuck with music rather than switching to an English major in college. (Career assessment tests list the creation of art as my second career fit.) I play at my church with a group of actual, professional musicians, and it’s a completely different world. If one of my friends wanted me to play on an album they were recording, I would feel honored; if that same friend wanted one of them to play on an album, it would cost $1000. And that’s okay—that’s what they do, they’re professionals, and they really are that good. I can’t say I’ve given up on raising my skill to somewhere around that level, but I don’t have a professional excuse to practice and I feel that I’m way behind the curve.

I don’t believe in fate or destiny. That’s something I feel I should stress. I believe in the ultimate power of choice. So I don’t wonder if I was “meant to be” somewhere else. And I don’t say any of this to suggest that I’m unhappy with where I am. I just wonder if I would be happier (or better at what I do) had I cast my stones elsewhere. It’s one of those imponderables that has no real bearing on life. It’s outside of my sphere of influence, and can actually distract me from what I’m doing now. It’s just something I still wonder about, you know? I’m a ponderer. I ponder things.

Anyway, just some random musings from me. Feel free to comment with stones that you’ve cast that you wonder about—I’d like to hear about them.

For those who don’t know, I’m not a big fan of Idealism. When I say Idealism, I’m referring to the philosophical movement, not the tendency to lift up certain ideals. The philosophy of idealism is more or less based around the concept that all reality is dependent upon thought and consciousness. (Transcendentalists are a little more down-to-earth, but I don’t like them either.) Some go as far as to say that there’s only really one consciousness—your own. Everything you hear, see, and sense is just a figment of your imagination, an illusory world created by your thoughts for your consciousness to experience. Most Idealists will agree, though, that thought and consciousness (subjects, with subjective experiences) makes an object more “real” than non-sentient objects.

I really dig philosophy as of late, as you can tell from the number of posts on the subject—but I just don’t see the point in Idealism. It’s impractical philosophy, since it’s purely speculative and doesn’t serve to help one live, unless one needs help thinking of oneself as a virtual god. It’s that egocentricity that I really despise. I think it’s ludicrous to believe that reality is subject to us and not the other way around. To look at life and think anything but that laws of reality that we did not conceive are being forced upon our consciousnesses is irresponsible and unrestrained optimism.

(For those who are wondering, I don’t believe that reality simply exists without reason. I believe in a God who created reality in a way to challenge us and test our faith and intellect; I believe in a God that fashioned a reality by His own standards and gave us the freedom to accept or reject both it and Him.)

It took a little while, but religion actually caught up with Idealism in New Age mysticism and Scientology, both of which came about in the latter half of the 20th Century. Both grant ultimate importance to the human consciousness—one in the mind’s ability to change the physical world, and one in its ability to create it. I view both as ultimately selfish and out of touch with the sometimes-harsh reality that we’ve all experienced. I don’t say that to say, “Oh, look how much better my religion is than those”—I just disagree with the presumptions of both. If you disagree with me, step back, take an objective look at the facts, and make up your own mind. (It’s only fair, seeing as that’s what I quite unabashedly did.)

But, not so surprisingly, religion was a little behind science. Enter quantum mechanics, which slowly evolved throughout the 19th Century and came to fruition at the advent of the 20th Century. Now quantum mechanics in itself isn’t so bad—it’s simply the realization that the laws of physics as we know them don’t apply on a subatomic level, and the study of those differences. But those differences are crazy-weird. A subatomic particle can actually be in multiple places at once. In fact, the concept of superposition states that until we measure where a particle is, it simultaneously exists in every possible location within the atom, and condenses into a singular position upon measurement. (You can read up on one clever scientist’s critique of this notion here.) It’s the science of Idealism.

Not too long ago, a movie was made about this. It’s called What tнe #$*! Dө ωΣ (k) πow!? or What the bleep do we know!? Admittedly, the movie doesn’t discuss pure science so much as speculative science (or pseudo-science); but all of the assumptions are leaps from quantum mechanics. The Secret is another production (this one, a self-help DVD) that posits that what we think can have a tangible impact on the physical world. Let me be clear: it’s not that our thoughts lead to our actions and our actions lead to change—it’s our thoughts themselves having a very real impact on the world (specifically, on our individual success in life). So Idealism is trickling down into entertainment and self-help, and it’s working its way into more than a few nooks and crannies in our modern lives.

I really can’t say I know enough to tackle quantum mechanics (or, rather, its offspring). And I realize I probably got some of this wrong, since I’m not as smart as the topics I try to discuss. But it’s something I want to learn more about. Call it a personal mission. Call it my civic duty as a Christian Existentialist. But if you have anything to say on the matter, in agreement, disagreement, or dismissal, hit that comment button below or just talk to me. I’m looking for more insight into the matter, and every opinion can teach me something.

The Swindler and the Widow’s Mite

Take the story about the woman who placed the two pennies in the temple-treasury, but let us poeticize a little variation. The two pennies were for her a great sum, which she had not quickly accumulated. She had saved for a long time in order to get them saved up, and then she had hidden them wrapped in a little cloth in order to bring them when she herself went up to the temple. But a swindler had detected that she possessed this money, had tricked her out of it, and had exchanged the cloth for an identical piece which was utterly empty—something which the widow did not know. Thereupon she went up to the temple, placed, as she intended, the two pennies, that is, nothing, in the temple-treasury: I wonder if Christ would not still have said what he said of her, that “she gave more than all the rich?”

Works of Love, p. 294 (SV XII 304)

Honestly, I struggle with this one. When it comes right down to it, in God’s eyes, I believe this to be true; but the critic in me cares more about results—and in the business of helping people, results matter.

It all boils down to the question of what we value more: the practical, or the personal; or, in abstract terms, the tangible or the spiritual. And I have to say, I feel like I have a preference for the tangible. It’s kind of hard being torn between both.

In the end, I’m glad that effort counts for something; I’m glad that God is more concerned with the condition of our hearts than I am.

Thoughts?

So in light of all of the presidential commercials lately, I found some philosopher slander campaigns. I recommend you watch them in this order:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7M-cmNdiFuI

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i72vGaB3ABw

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1uYO0vsI6UM

(Special thanks to one Gordon Deane for bringing these to my attention.)

Ladies and gentlemen, I present you with Existentialball.

There are no teams in Existentialball—each player is free to choose to play to whatever goal he or she wants, and each player is responsible for creating meaning out of their existence as a player. Similarly, there are no uniforms. In fact, points are knocked off for players wearing the same thing.

Score is not kept in Existentialball. Instead, points are awarded based on how well each player uses his or her freedom of choice and takes responsibility for actions on the field (since each player is ultimately responsible for every play on the field). This of course means that there must be a ball and goals, and that the ball must be put into the goal at some point, but points are awarded based on style by a panel of judges.

Players are not necessarily aware that a game is going on, or even that they’re players. That’s okay—they’ll be graded anyway.

Instead of cheerleaders, there will be a group of attractive women who chastise players for not thinking for themselves. This group is not called the Cheer Squad, but is instead the Independence Squad. While not chastising players, they will give speeches reminding the audience that life is not fair.

The set of rules is sparse because no rule will apply in every circumstance. The main rules are:

1. Someone must be doing something with the ball at all times. If a player ceases to be a player, he or she will be deemed absurd and removed from the field.
2. If players consistently follow the rules of another sport, play will be halted and players will be scolded by the Independence Squad.
3. Players who complain that other players are breaking rules will be docked points for not putting a stop to this themselves.
4. No eye-gouging (except in Germany).
5. Absolutely no quoting Hegel!

Expect to see this on network television in the next few years!

If a mouse is in a room, you can prove that the mouse is in the room; but if a mouse is not in a room, there’s no way you can conclusively prove that there’s no mouse in the room. That much is a philosophical truth. No matter how hard you look, you could just be missing it. You could build machines to test for a mouse in the room, but they could be malfunctioning. Or you could misinterpret the analysis given by the machines. The mouse could also have developed psychomagnetic powers that alter the machine’s perception of the room.

And on and on it goes. Anyway, you get the point. By this logic, the existence of God can never be conclusively disproved.

Now let’s take a look at faith. Faith, by definition cannot be proved. If the object of faith was somehow proved, it wouldn’t be by faith that we would accept it—it would be by sheer acceptance of an objective fact.

2 Corinthians 5:7 tells us that “We live by faith, not by sight.” By this logic and given the definition of faith, the existence of God can never be conclusively proved.

And yet, we waste so much time hoping to prove or disprove the existence of God. There are countless books written on both sides of it—but just listening to people, we talk about it as if it’s something we’ll eventually prove if we could just figure out how.

Without proof on either side, we have total freedom to choose what we want to believe while remaining of sound mind. But, despite the lack of a real way to make a totally accurate decision, we will ultimately be held responsible for what we choose. That freedom in the face of those consequences is crippling. The resulting anxiety from total freedom of choice with total responsibility for one’s choice is the textbook definition of Existential angst.

Kierkegaard said “In fact, we must believe by virtue of the absurd.” That rings somewhat true for all of life, but especially true for matters of faith, either in the existence or nonexistence of God. He talks about a leap of faith that we all must take, being given incomplete data. We must choose a way of life and leap into it and live our lives as if it were true. That’s the only way to really effectively tackle life.

Anyway, those are just my thoughts as a Christian and amateur Existentialist. Anyone agree or disagree? Or does anyone want to correct my interpretation of Existentialism? (I’m just a rookie, really.)