I went on a mental stroll today, around the mountains of knowledge, through the rivers of anxiety, and into the valleys where both meet and reconcile: a point of relative serenity. While climbing the mountains—a sort of analogy for doing course readings—I began to consider the permeability of religion and thought as a whole. I have lived my entire life in the United States, a nation founded on the idea of religious freedom, but nevertheless operates under the guise of puritan values that remain ever-present as they echo through our laws and make up the thread-counts of our nation’s ‘holistic’ fabric. Though, every morning I wake up, roll over, and look at my personal tiny glowing screen, only to be filled with ideas from all over the world, inevitably becoming groggily overwhelmed, falling back to sleep, and waking back up some time later angry at myself for not keeping myself awake long enough. “What’s the point?” you might be asking. That’s sort of it, though, isn’t it? Epistemology—the very process analyzing how I strung together these ideas, or even how I came to think about these ideas for that matter—rarely enters my mind when considering my everyday discourse or actions. Nevertheless, though, I still read my coursebooks, wondering how someone could fathom such a proposal or believe that such a preposterous idea actually exists, especially when it comes to religion. I suppose that’s where I turn to my other half:
"Anyone want to help me answer a few questions? All you have to do is tell me your opinions."
“Matt and Chris would make a cute couple. That's my opinion.”
“I wear black socks and Matt isn’t a fan so I'm not convinced.”
John’s head moved towards me though his eyes were locked onto Chris, I felt as if he was requesting some sort of approval for his statement as he asked, “want any more of my opinions?”
Chris turned his eyes from John and turned up his chin. By now it seemed that he had mastered the art of ignoring John.
“What are the questions?”
“Well, I was wondering why people believe in God or how they even know that he exists.” I’m sure I rambled on for some time—as I have a tendency to do—asking all sorts of :questions that neither I nor anyone else had or will ever have the answers to when I finally concluded, perhaps the most obvious observation I could have made on the topic.
“But I haven't got any answers about that yet.”
“Faith.” John replied almost instantly, as if I hadn’t already thought of that. I paused.
“In the research I’ve done, most people have been talking about the meaning of life and what they think the greater ‘thing’ holding this world together is.”
John nodded.
“This is something people argue over for years and years and never figure out.”
A dejected “I know” poured from my mouth.
“That's a sad question” Chris remarked from across the room. He had returned to playing a game on his phone by that point. I’m not sure if Chris has some sort of precocious premonitions or if he absentmindedly wanted to contribute to the conversation, but either way, he was right about one thing. This definitely wasn’t going to be a happy discussion.
“Anyway if you're talking about the Christian faith: the key word is faith,” John remarked, “though I can't speak to other religions.”
“I'd say I’m focusing on Christianity mostly, yes. But what is that faith?”
“Strong belief in God or in the doctrines of a religion, based on spiritual apprehension rather than proof. I mean, you can ask Ken Ham. He'll teach you that it's something scientific. It depends on what faction you want to represent first, I guess. There are a lot of different Christians alone, anywhere from Anti-gay young Earth creationists of Westboro to Catholics who actually don't reject the Big Bang Theory. And then, of course, a metric ton of other religions and non-religious people all with their own beliefs. Take lots of modern conflict in the Middle East; it’s fueled between different factions of Islam alone, without even mixing in Israel’s position with Judaism and Christianity.”
“Internal differences definitely cause conflict. It is worth noting, though, that in those situations there are plenty of exterior agitators that do make the situation worse—like the Christian-founded United States providing weapons and militant strategy to the side that benefits itself the most—but that’s a whole can of worms for another time.
“Of course, I mean, political theories get mixed in, too. Consider communism versus capitalism—that are entire decades in American history dedicated to that topic alone. But agreed, that's a whole other assignment alone.”
“Right now, considering I have experience on both sides, I’m focusing on non-religious and Christian dialogue. For instance, why do people believe what they do? How do they assign the meanings of life and why do they go about those assignments in the way that they do?”
“Well, what denomination of Christians do you plan to focus on then? Ken Ham would probably argue more in favor of there being scientific evidence than, say, a Catholic.”
“I have no particular denomination in mind. This could be a conversation with anyone, honestly, it's more about how a person decides what system they'd like to guide their line of thinking. I do understand your consideration of denominations, though; I hadn’t thought too deeply about them before. Christianity is pretty broad. Thought is nuanced. For me specifically, I suppose I'm a nihilist. While I don't like labels, I find existentialism particularly helpful in defining my life. I'd say a lot of that comes from my relationship with depression. At times I am left feeling I have no point, especially after I abandoned Christianity and now adhere to no religious doctrine.
“Elaborate on being a nihilist, though,” Chris remarked without moving with eyes from the glow between his hands.
“I'm a nihilist insofar that I think life on a collective whole is inherently meaningless. Other than procreation, I have no real point in life. And beyond that, I don't really see that the cycle of procreation really says anything substantial for the universe as a whole. It just adds ‘stuff’ to the world. Nonetheless, I think that thought process is appealing to me because it gives me a sense of purpose, something I can create for myself.”
“Unfortunately, I'm coming to the same conclusion, but it is what it is,” Chris said. “Although, religion is not the same as believing in God. I don't believe in religions. However, from my perspective, something had to be here before our perception of everything. Though, Shannon, I think what you mean is existential nihilism, not just nihilism. After all, nihilism does refer to a number of different views in philosophy. There’s moral, existential, ontological, political…” Considering Chris still hadn’t looked up from his phone, I’m almost positive he was glossing through these on Wikipedia. However, I’m sort of grateful. It was nice to have a more logical and concrete approach—and a mental break since Chris went on to read an extensive definition of nihilism. I was still trying to figure out what the difference between ontological and existential nihilism could possibly be.
John followed, “I don't commit to nihilism, but I also can't agree with someone like Ken Ham.” By this point, you’re probably wondering who Ken Ham is. Surprisingly, Chris hadn’t glossed him, but I did: Ken Ham is a young Earth creationist who leads the movement. He is responsible for the Ark and Creationist Museum attractions. “Well, going by its definition, it asserts there is no real base to morals—you know, that whole ‘life is meaningless part’—and I don’t know if I agree with that either.”
“Yeah…” I trailed off. “Don't commit to nihilism in what regard?”
“Well, it's hard to argue. If you commit to nihilism, life has no purpose beyond natural evolution and the need to procreate.”
“That makes sense. To a certain extent, I agree with a bit of each of those definition points—denial of religion, meaninglessness of life, impossibility of knowledge— but there are the caveats and nuances. Afterall, I believe in higher powers like entropy and the like, and if someone were to tell me that life is meaningless, I’d disagree.”
John looked at me, puzzled, “Did you not just say life is meaningless?”
“Well, yes, but it’s all about perspective.” I thought back to a conversation with another friend earlier; he was absolutely convinced that there was no meaning to life other than torture. I was rather alarmed with this ‘chaos theory’. He was watching a movie at the time, so I asked him why he watched movies, to which he replied, “why do you read?”
I was taken aback. I went on a tangent regarding societal standards and Western education, noting how I rarely read for pleasure anymore. Mentally, I had immediately boxed literature into a more sophisticated category than movies:
“Movies are for entertainment and have an entire industry backing them. Their content and context is defined by that entertainment industry.”
Cain replied “Where is the difference then? Are you not meant to be entertained by books?” I took pause again; of course books could be entertaining. I have enjoyed books, I still do enjoy books.
“You asked why I read books. I read books because they’re imposed upon me, because a Western framework has determined that those are the societal views required to create my ontological framework.” I took a breath. “However, now that you’ve boxed me in, I suppose this does contextualize how the approach to a question might change the answer. If I hadn’t defined movies in terms of my use of academic books, I would not have boxed movies so arbitrarily otherwise. So, why do you like doing the things that you do?”
And that was where my conversation with Cain ended as he spiraled back down into his tortuous nihilism—a chaotic katabasis that yielded more questions and concerns than answers, but nevertheless helped me form this next allegory:
“I don't really think there needs to be an answer, it's just talking about it to get a more holistic perspective. It's sort of like looking at the Earth from the space station. You can see it from all different angles but you have no real idea until you get 'there' and can see the Earth from within, which, of course, is too vast for any one of us to even begin to comprehend in totality. And that all has to do with a frame of reference; we assert our own meanings in life. I find liberation in that fact, but I suppose that’s not very satisfying to the point of this discussion.”
Chris matter-of-factly replied, “A subjective meaning to life is a mentally stable way to look at things.”
John set both his elbows utop the table. “Let’s speak objectively then because these things are true: First, I grew up in a church that taught young Earth creationism. I learned various morals along with the Christian faith. These fed into one another. Secondly, and more importantly, I do not accept young Earth creationism as it rejects the basic understanding that I have of technology. I will admit that I don't understand much in life, but I do know enough that the discipline of Physics is true. We couldn't possibly see stars millions of light years away when it is the case that millions of years have not passed by, and to reject that would be to reject the entire existence of the internet, satellite communication, and beyond. To do so would be asinine and can you guess why?”
I stared blankly while John gestured to Chris.
“It’s because we're using those resources right now. So, does that face make it all not-true or just that faction of the whole not-true? Suppose we say that the earth is flat. If that were that case, all those problems would disappear.”
“We could entertain the idea, but I think the important part is to not totally write off a whole ideology over certain, nuanced fallacies? Perhaps, let us only write off the fraction of the whole, or the faction.”
“It's just I grew up basing everything around that form of creationism. However,” John began, “I will confess that I find it hard to let some moral teachings of the Christian faith go. Perhaps someone who didn't grow up in a Christian setting may not have that issue.”
“There are certain ideological traditions defined totally upon communal, generational knowledge—say oral tradition—that would have no problem rejecting more technical ideas of science or technology.”
“Catholics don't believe that, I know that much, but I don't know the specifics in regard to their beliefs, especially when it comes to the age of the universe and their interpretation of creation.”
“Okay, so it’s a faction position, but do those small nuances defined by untruth completely invalidate the greater ideology?”
“That is where I pause. When you look at world events, especially the turmoil in the Middle East, from a position that rejects religion, it's also easy to think that a lot of those problems would go away if, at the very least, Abrahamic faiths went away or never existed to begin with.”
“But don't you think that completely eliminating those schools of thought, or even the elimination of their respective factions, can be equally as harmful?”
“Yes” John and Chris said. It was a little eerie as their voices almost formed one as they erupted in unison. Chris continued.
“I think that religion can limit a person's way of life-perception, but I also think it can save them from spiraling down because of that life-perception. It's easy to get lost in philosophy and nihilism.”
And once again, my mind was left to spiral into another spiral, if you will. As described by my friend Reuben, the universe, as we perceive it, is a fractal. As he described it to me:
“It's like a pattern that gets infinitely bigger and smaller. For us, the material universe we perceive is collectively generated by the human mind. We think the information is an interpretation of external stimuli, yet we have no way of knowing that our brain isn't just generating this all on its own. The only thing that is certain is that something is being perceived. The collective conscience generates the known universe. If this is the case, then all consciousness must be connected, hence the ability to communicate, and therefore that ‘God’ is really every person that exists, has existed, and will exist. The creator. The ethernet of man.”
“If that's the case, how would you categorize the differences in opinion between people? Do we not have our own choices and freewill?”
“I'm not saying we're not individuals. I'm just saying that we're like different facets of the same thing.”
“So is that the same thing as the collective consciousness?
“To a certain extent: you have different thoughts, different personalities even, just within yourself. Individual people are essentially the next level of individual thoughts. We all work in tandem to make up the whole. It's a fractal.”
Reuben’s fractal analysis brought upon several thoughts. The universe consists of segments building upon one another. Bigger isn't necessarily an element of expansion—it can also have to do with the bigger picture—where it is a term relative to the person or thing viewing everything else. It’s a reference point where everything appears to be more in your face because it's immediately relevant. I suppose this speaks to my revelation with Cain earlier, but the main takeaway here remains:
“Until you’ve experienced your lived experience from the exterior, it’s very hard to fully understand the big picture of that situation, and, even then, it's very easy to lose scale and relativity all together. Grounding is important.”
“Exactly, but it also gives people meaning,” John lamented.
Chris replied, “I think I have never liked religions, solely because my whole life I thought for myself. Religion gives a lot of stability due to the doctrines that come with it. I assume that when you don't need to think about some abstractly dark philosophical question, you're left at ease.”
“That feels a bit too self-aware,” I jumped in, “After all, most things that fall hard into either side of radicalism don’t play out well. All the while, centrism isn't particularly helpful for anything. Sure it's comfortable, but we don't really get anywhere with it. Being moderate really never helped facilitate an idea of progression, and if we're looking at life ideologies, a temporal progression forward is integral to living. Doing anything less would lead to the cessation of life.”
“I can’t agree with that. Centrism can be a simple default. It doesn't necessarily affect progression in other ways, because it seems Christianity has led to that exactly in the Western world. The pursuit of truth that Christianity holds up has led many being stuck in this ‘centrist’ state, at least in the Western world.”
“What would you say is your definition of centrism, then?”
“One who does not fully know.”
“Then I feel that everyone is a centrist with that definition:
“Except for people who adhere strictly to an ideology.”
“But even people who abstractly adhere to nihilism—though I feel that's counterintuitive—don't have it all figured out, though.”
“ISIS and young Earth creationists are equally convicted in their beliefs. At the end of the day, as Chris said, it depends on the definition of nihilism, but it can certainly lead to hopelessness and a sense of everything being meaningless to a lot, much like the extremes in religion that end just the opposite.”
Equally convicted in beliefs, sure, that’s radicalisation. For ourselves, though, if we are attempting to adhere to nihilism, part of nihilism is the denial of knowledge and recognition that most things don't exist as we assume them to.”
“That's also a bit vague, though.”
“I think that’s the idea, religions operate in the same way; it creates an aura of liberation. Rejecting all thought is depressing and cynical; subscribing to thought without question is practically blinding. Considering both sides just muddies everything to a point of inconsistency, but there’s liberation in that. It's all overwhelming. Perhaps the ultimate evil—and ultimate freedom—here is the thought concerning thought.”
“I concede, it’s a tough subject and I don't beyond that,” John chuckled, “I'm just not willing to strongly commit too quickly to anything given the point I’m at in life. Anyway, self-awareness is the issue here.”
“Do you mean self awareness of human progression, life, and existence, or of the idea of thought itself?”
“I was saying it with a bit of irony, but I suppose in reference to thought itself. If we weren’t self aware we wouldn’t be thinking of this, right?”
John looked forward, his eyes dashing around the room, almost glossed over. He examined every corner of the room, mentally aware of the oils his spongy skin had transferred onto the table. He felt stale air pass through his mouth left agape and then the sudden wetness from his tongue squished against the roof of his mouth; he began breathing a little deeper as he looked around, his sporadic movements only interrupted by his cat brushing against his jean-covered leg.
“Maybe my cat thinks of this too? Who could know?”
We watched him bend down to stroke the cat and let out a sigh of relief. We smiled as the feline made its way to each of us, sprawling across, sprinting ahead, and spiraling around.