Authored by: Apostasy.

Introduction

When my philosophy class, at a Catholic University, caught wind of the fact that Plato’s arguments of the immortality of the soul and recollection implied reincarnation, it only seemed logical for us to find a way to dispute ‘reincarnation’ as a ridiculous, superstitious, religious belief. However, a modern debate of cultural impact vs. instinct arose from the discussion. Isn’t there something innate in human beings that allows us to learn? It seems to me that human abilities and capabilities, particularly the capability of rational thought, are evolutionarily developed traits. OK, so if you replace reincarnation and recollection with genetics and evolution Plato makes sense, but that’s not what Plato’s saying: he’s talking about the reincarnation of the soul. But what genetic reproduction and the reproduction of the soul are the same? In the original foundations of life—single-celled organisms—asexual reproduction copied the genetic makeup of an organism exactly (despite mutations) almost like a full reincarnation.

If, as Aristotle defines it, ‘the soul’ is seen as the mere biological life of a functioning organism, ‘the soul’ is reincarnated in the offspring of the next asexual generation. Although Aristotle certainly didn’t argue for the immortality of the soul the way Plato did, his definition translates: in sexual reproduction, though the genetics are mixed, genes are a product of the parents and therefore a sort of reincarnation. Reciprocal altruism in nature suggests that parents are naturally inclined to defend and protect the most potential and/ existing offspring they can quantitatively have for the next generation. Biologically, single-celled organisms, animals, and human beings are hard-wired toward optimal reproduction. It’s almost as if reproduction is a means of immortalization: getting enough of an individual’s genes into the next generation to carry them on for many more to come. Though genetic ‘reincarnation’ doesn’t guarantee ‘immortalization’ because children’s reproduction of more children, etc, is not guaranteed, it still seems to be a vehicle toward that end much like Plato’s idea of a cloak that continues after death but eventually wears. This makes sense both biologically and psychologically.

Religion’s focus on afterlife, human beings’ focus on fame, the search for purpose: it all seems to come down to a sort of existentialist way of coping with death. It seems to come down to attempted immortalization. This biological and psychological aim of immortalization is at odds with natural selection and evolution, characterized by experiences that allowed the strongest or most attractive to survive, giving the intuitive ‘soul’ of the evolved traits like the ability to learn. With this in mind, Plato’s argument from recollection doesn’t seem as far-fetched as when first confronted with the concept. While evolution and reproduction involve change, they keep a set of genes consistent to the genes of the parents. Individuals are also in personal states of change throughout their lives, physically and mentally. Although maturity, biologically, is different from genetics, philosophically, it seems to be directly related to genetics.

The topic I’m going to discuss is similar to this Platonic debate primarily in that it looks like a faulty premise when first stated and related to outlandish, counter-cultural religiousity, but when approached from a secular angle, makes sense in a new way:

I’d argue that virtually all religious (even innately theistic) concepts can be synthesized down to underlying philosophies that make sense, secularly, logically and philosophically, regardless of whether or not they are Truth.

Metaphor and Literalism:

Is art simply imitation? What role do religious texts play in relation to Truth?

Before I attempt to explain the secular perspectives of theistic concepts, I think it is first-and-foremost important to discuss a topic I find separate from abstract religious concepts: mythology. While arguing purely for the secular philosophies that can be attached to Monotheism, Polytheism, and Pantheism may work, academically, the dogmas and the specificity and the superstition behind many religions seem to make said religion more complex than the the regilion’s most basic religious premise. Borg Christians often may explain these beliefs (e.g. Genesis) as simply metaphor or parable with underlying motives. Biblical literalists classify these beliefs as ‘literally true’. I claim both and neither at the same time.

Take any work of literature. Metaphors are both vehicles to illustrate overarching themes and they are constructed literal concepts, regardless of whether or not they exist in the natural world. This may seem reminiscent of Descartes “I think therefore I am” concept where the world of the mind and what exists in the mind is the most objective world we have access to. However, there’s more to it than that. In Susan Sontag’s essay, “On Style”, she argues that literary analysis that simply paraphrases metaphors into a supposedly easier to understand form, a form that dissects art, destroys the concept and the creation of the metaphor. If I were to say, “love is a rose” you could conclude that I mean fragility and beauty, or that love is thorny or passionate…but none of those conclusions would fully encapsulate the image that the metaphor of the rose places into the mind. The illustrative vehicle, the reality of the metaphor, is lost.

Our previously mentioned friend, Plato, might reply that the concept of metaphor, of relating two things together that are not the same, is imitation and doesn’t approach objective reality. Therefore it is false. It is ‘art’, and, to Plato, art is negative. Let’s hypothetically give Plato that point, for argument’s sake. Is metaphor simply an aesthetic, artistic combination that, at it’s core, is a lie about the natural world? If we add a second dimension to the argument in the introduction for recollection in relation to intuition and call that intuition ‘capacity’ but call empirical, experiential, hands-on confrontation with the world a means of gaining ‘knowledge’, we could say that metaphor is simply relating new experiences to previous ones and vice-versa, and thereby drawing conclusions and generalizations (or reconstructing them), seeing a broader picture of the world, saying that “x” is comparable to “y”. What’s the difference between a mere comparison and a metaphor? A Newtonian theory could conclude a mathematical theory that a literary or artistic metaphor could visually conclude. All experiences are intrinsically different, but drawing comparisons between them gives a generalized, broader view of reality in both the Newtonian and the literary sense.

Aristotle similarly argues that, while human brains work to generalize and compare as a result of their previous experiences, each experience logically should be seen in its ‘particular’. However, Aristotle goes on to argue that art has an existence of its own, caused by four things: the work of the artist, the physical material, it’s shape, and it’s purpose. Thus, a work of art is both characterized by and transcends being each one of these single causes because it is an intrinsically combined substance of all four of these causes. To Aristotle, art is not simply imitation, but an existence of its own. This relates back to what Nietzsche said in The Birth of Tragedy, as quoted by aformentioned Susan Sontag: «Art is not an imitation of nature but its metaphysical supplement, raised up beside it in order to overcome it» (Sontag 30). While Aristotle says nothing about ‘overcoming’ nature, which may be an overly zealous term on Nietzsche’s part, he does distinguish it from imitation and believes that it has an intrinsic purpose or ‘final cause’ that accomplishes something individual to the work of art as a single substance, further supporting the idea that metaphor is true both in what it aims to accomplish—comparison or explanation—and in it’s own, metaphysical existence.

Now, this conclusion regarding metaphor/ literal truth in relation to the Bible would imply that the Bible or the Qur’an or the xyz is no special, enlightened document. I would argue, contrary to this implication, that every work of literature has a special, even ‘enlightened’ perspective just by nature of the fact that it’s an account of a human being on the surrounding world naturally, psychologically, etc. Human beings simply having the ability to recount and document and be concious of the world around them could be seen as a ‘special’ or ‘enlightened’ capability. Some works of literature certainly argue/better display the surrounding world than others, for sure. Although the aforementioned Cartesian account that the perception of the mind (even if faulty) suggests intrinsic objectivity, a secondary, non-Cartesian account of the world outside the mind is more believable or better argued in some literary texts than others the same way some philosophers argue better than others. I don’t think anyone would disagree if I said Plato had a better conception of Truth than one of his weaker counterparts in argument, Meno. Similarly, literary masters like Virginia Woolf seem to grasp a Truth that amateur writers like myself cannot claim to have.

Thus, the Bible certainly has some sort of intrinsic objective reality in both paraphrasable and literal metaphor, just by nature of the fact that it’s a work of writing. And, with the previously given points, a single work of literature has the potential to have more merit or value than another work of literature. Is the Bible special as far as literature goes? Surely, even just in the fact that it is canonical. Also, the depth and construction and philosophy and interesting new literary direction, particularly in the New Testament, is fascinating and worth studying. However, does the Bible have literary priority over all other works of literature? (1) As far as being canonical goes, Plato would almost equal the Bible in that respect. (2) As far as being literarily genius, (though I’m placing an opinion-based value judgment, for sure) does the Bible have literary priority over all other works of literature? The inconsistency and contradictions and two-dimensionality of many of the characters and the often flighty representation of a personalized God seems very detached from reality, psychology…the metaphors, as vehicles, often don’t seem to go. They’re confusing and debatable to the point of senseless ambiguity. The historical overlap of voices with motives in the Bible, in relation to the moral components of the work, dilute and convolute any sort of theme or message that other literary works have just because they have a single consistent author. I’d argue that, as stated before, Virginia Woolf’s works, which I, as an amateur writer, have a great respect for, have a literary merit that a work like the Bible cannot hold water to. (3) As far as being “spiritually enlightened”, does the Bible have literary priority over all other works of literature? We claim that the Bible is the enlightened word of God, but isn’t literature nothing more than a search for philosophical, natural, and psychological Truth/ reality, which could be redefined as a depersonified “God”—a certain consistency, a certain hermeneutic lens, a certain expression of reality? Then wouldn’t any literary work be inspired by “God”, as it’s an individual’s view of reality and each perception of that reality has a hermeneutic merit of Truth, intrinsic or not? In that respect, tracing the argument back to the idea that some books portray reality (“God”) better than others, and, presumably, Virginia Woolf (in my opinion) portrays reality better than the Bible so wouldn’t this suggest that Virginia Woolf and similarly great writers were more divinely inspired than the writers of the Bible?

The next arguments deal with what “Divine”/ “God(s)” means in a secular, abstract, purely philosophical sense, and may clear up misconceptions of what I mean when I say things like “spiritually enlightened”, giving this argument about Virginia Woolf a new angle.

Pantheism:

“Sexed-Up Atheism”

I’m certainly not the first to argue that Pantheism and Atheism are not mutually exclusive. Neither is Richard Dawkins, who quaintly defined Pantheism as “Sexed-Up Atheism”. When analyzed for what it is, definitionally, Pantheism comes across as an innately atheistic idea quite similar to Thomas Hardy’s brand of ‘Naturalism’ and even Aristotle’s view of ‘the soul’ and ‘the final cause’. When translated into it’s most simple definition, Pantheism sees everything as God. Existence in itself, composed of an ongoing multitude of intrinsically different entities, is reverable. Pantheistic Atheism answers the nihilist who questions how we know anything exists at all and says in reply “existence exists”, “the natural world exists” and the fact that existence exists is weird. It’s simply bizarre. Existence is mystical in it’s own right. The natural has an inexplicable quality. Aristotle calls this ‘substance’—everything exists; everything has substance in it’s own unique right. By definition, however, the natural is still simply “the natural”, not the supernatural. Individual beings within nature have their own force and capability and entity simply because they exist. A bowling ball has a certain quantity of mass that has a particular potential in relation to the world around it: in relation to gravity, in relation to bowling pins it hits… The mathematical properties of the object give it a physical power in it’s existence. Similarly, as in the introduction, animals that instinctively carry out their will to reproduce are in conflict with animals of a similar power: the tragedy of the commons. Each animal has a theoretical capability, but can be neutralized or demeaned by the conflicting powers of the other natural beings surrounding it. Similarly, if a bowling ball is at a certain incline or a certain amount of force is applied to it, regardless of it’s weight, the ball will eventually give way to the direction of that given force that is in conflict with gravity and the previously natural state of the ball (which was at rest).

Polytheism:

Consistent Forces within the Universe

It may be easiest to approach the concept of Polytheistic Atheism through Eastern Tradition. The Samkhya school of Hinduism is probably the easiest example. This school claims to be innately atheistic: they believe in no supernaturally ‘higher power’, yet they revere the forces of Creation and Destruction (“Brahman” and “Shiva”). Creation and Destruction are seen as part of the natural, not above or supernatural. However, they are forces that shape and unify the fluctuating properties of the universe. Aristotle argued a similar sort of Lion-King-esque “circle of life” idea, where the dead decompose and become the dirt that nourishes new life through their chemical/ physical properties. Many modern scientists believe that the universe, created by the big bang, will eventually collapse in on itself then start anew, like a phoenix resurrecting itself from ashes. The overarching motifs of Creation and Destruction are both evident and inevitable. Relating back to the introduction, birth and death and the creation of new life then the death of that next life, etc, is another ongoing circle-of-life-like, reincarnation-like concept.

The entity of Polytheistic philosophy puts a new angle on Pantheism, and both gives and takes something away from the idea of Pantheism. Polytheism adds generalization through various motifs in life, which are often in conflict. The Greek Gods (which could be seen a vehicles/metaphors for what they are mythologically said to govern/ represent) were constantly bickering, promoting their own aims, which most often reflected their metaphorical entities (e.g. Aphrodite as “love” or “sexuality” vs. Athena as “war” or “wisdom”). In this example, we get our first glimpse of what Polytheism takes away from Pantheism, or, reworded, the dangers of Polytheistic thought. Polytheism generalizes and compares. Generalizing and comparing (as discussed in “Metaphor and Literalism”) is necessary in human life and thought. However, quantifying the entity of “war” as directly related to the entity of “wisdom” and generalizing them into one being/ force takes away the innately separate quality of the two concepts. Similarly, generalizing “a chair” as “a chair” demeans the fact that one chair, whether or not it looks exactly like another or was made the same way is an innately different entity from any other chair.

Still, pragmatically, human beings have to think in generalizations and recognize consistent forces to get anywhere philosophically. Aristotle says in Physics: «We must advance from generalities to particulars, for it is a whole that is best known to sense-perception, and a generality is a kind of whole, comprehending many things within it, like parts.» Essentially, generalization is the way human beings brains work, and, while there are limitations to generalization and particulars should be sought out, generalizations must be used, and can even be made effectively about abstract ideas like Ethics, as Aristotle goes on to write about in Nichomean Ethics, if the particulars and logic coming from them is true. There is a fallacy of thinking that way any time the generalizing process is used, but, without it, there would be no generalized mathematical theories and no approach to any sort of order/ consistent hermeneutic entity within the universe. Human beings, both in general and as individuals, have to develop hermeneutic lenses and reach even just basic conclusions about the universe. Some of those conclusions are more valid than others. For example, generalizing that “all human beings must one day die” seems a lot more logically reasonable than generalizing “all guitarists are mean people” or what are eventually made into more complex schemas, which are often detached from the actual world, logically and psychologically.

Monotheism:

The Force, The String Theory, and The Theory of Everything

While, as discussed in “Metaphor and Literalism”, religion can be developed into personified schemas and mythologies, make note again that I am not accounting for those complex schemas here, I am rather analyzing the most basic, philosophical, abstract idea of monotheism. Just like in “Pantheism”, I am certainly not the first to attempt this feat. Even George Lucas gave it a shot, for what it’s worth. Democritus’ “a-tom”, Leon Lederman’s “God Particle”, Albert Einstien’s sought-out but never-discovered “Theory of Everything”, and Brian Greene’s “String Theory” are all very notable attempts at finding a single unifying entity that explains and has a sort of omnipotence over all things in the universe. These figures attempted to essentially prove the concept of Monotheism by tracing the entity of the universe down to its smallest form. Contrarily, Islamic mystics seeking to explain Monotheism gave name to the concept of infinity, a great revelation in the field of mathematics. Deriving God from the idea of infinity takes the abstract idea of everythingness–the whole rather than the smallest entity of existence.

In both instances, the concept of monotheism takes the Polytheistic concept of generalization and expands it to the entire universe through a unifying element. This is a very dangerous notion. While the hermeneutic views and generalizations of Polytheism have flaws simply in the process of generalization, monotheism attempts to take everything and explain it as one great whole. Regardless of whether or not there is an a-tom, generalizing everything into one entity demeans the fact that things are innately different. Monotheistic religions don’t deny this paradox, they rather say that God (or ‘infinity’ or the ‘atom’) has omnipotence over the universe but God isn’t the universe, the way Pantheism would suggest. I suppose maybe this is where the concept of the ‘supernatural’ developed.

However, before we get ahead of ourselves, let’s remember that, if there is an a-tom or if infinity is a valid concept, those concepts are natural. While human beings have to understand them abstractly rather than empirically, they are both concepts that characterize a natural world. Also, let’s not forget that, even at the level of the a-tom, a-toms themselves are each separate entities, regardless of their one-to-one correspondence/ similarity with other a-toms. Also, when characterizing everything at it’s a-tomic level, we can’t lose sight of the fact that the actual a-tomic units of, say, a chair make up an entity (the entity of the chair) that is more than just a-tomic. Somewhere along the line, the chair gained a personality of existence by the maker of the chair and different from other entities in the universe. The chair is innately different from all other entities in the universe, as previously argued with Pantheism by Aristotle. This relates to Aquinas’ (another philosopher who attempted to explain a depersonified philosophy of monotheism) argument from motion: if there’s a God, that God has to not only be the cause of everythingness, it also has to be the facilitator of change in all things. Uniting models for forces (equations) like mass and energy, derivatives and integrals, etc, seems to approach a sort of ordered unity in the universe…a facilitator of change for all things. However, this omnipotent force would not come with moral implications or exist outside of the universe it holds together, so, while it can be seen as a monotheistic idea, relating it to a Christian God that transcends the universe and is the essense of good, not evil, is an approach to monotheism that does not seem to relate to the Theory of Everything.

The Psychology of Religion

I often wonder not only about the logic behind religious beliefs, but the psychological reasons as well. ‘Why do people believe in religion?’ and ‘How did people develop religion?’ are two questions I often ask myself.

I answer part of the ‘why’ with very common arguments: (1) To know. Human beings are inclined to want to know and learn and search for all sorts of answers from scientific truths to philosophical ones. When they can’t come up with a satisfying answer to persistent, existential questions, it only makes sense to attempt to draw conclusions anyway. Religion answers many of the same questions that keep me up at night. (2) To have control. Human beings don’t only want to  know, they want to be able to manipulate. Again, science is a perfect example of how this human trait is carried out and often incredibly effective. However, when people find things out of their control, they look for a loophole. Going into outerspace was one extraordinary scientific loophole we found. Curing polio was another. Intercessory prayer is an attempt at a different kind of loophole/ manipulation of the natural world. Believing that it works is incredibly satisfying, especially when you believe, say, you’re helping your only child beat cancer. Believing that a certain omnipotent power (in monotheism, though powers in pantheism and polytheism may apply as well) can favor you if you act a certain way is a form of power and manipulation that people like to believe that they have.

These motivations have obvious fallacious reasoning and seem to demean the previous, more sound arguments for the entities of monotheism, polytheism and pantheism. They also seem to give a new angle to the previously discussed idea of ‘true metaphor’. At this point, I think it’s very important to discuss the differences between what I believe the original intentions of most religions were and the later practices. I believe that most religions start out as philosophies. (This would not include denominational segmentation, because that’s really more of an evolved religion than a newly started one.) Lao Tzu/ Taoism is an easy example of a political philosophy that later became regarded as a religion, especially in the Formosa (now Taiwan) area. What about religions that are theistic? The previously discussed arguments seem to show that even versions of theism are secularly philosophical at their core. Dogma, practice, indoctrination, etc all come later. While Jesus preached and the gospels documented, their intentions were probably more to convince the world of pacifism and purist spiritualism through metaphorical vehicles like parables and miracles as well as direct philosophical teaching, and they probably didn’t intend to make an enormous church monopoly of land and power and dogma like the role the church played in the Middle Ages. Though there were probably mystical foundations of many early religions, even pure mysticism can be translated as more of a philosophy than a hierarchical religion or dogma. Sufism is a great example of a religion that has a core of mystical philosophy that takes precedent over ‘faith’ and hierarchical dogmas.

“The paradox of all paradoxes is that all sides of every argument are true” – Siddhartha Guatama

When I naively whipped out this quote the first day of my philosophy class in high school, the teacher laughed, looked puzzled, sighed and said “…mysticism.” I didn’t fully understand the quote. Neither did my high school teacher. Of course, all arguments are not equally true, but even just the previously stated discussion about the intrinsic truth in Cartesian perception implies that at least the misconceptions that went into every argument have a perceptive truth inside of them. However, sometimes arguments that appear to be mutually exclusive–arguments that appear to be paradoxes–are actually both true in their own right. Can there be no God, can everything be God, can some things be God, and can God be a single monotheistic entity all at the same time? If Atheistic Pantheism and Atheistic Polytheism and Pantheistic Polytheism can all exist at once and the universifying elements of infinity and the a-tom factors in, maybe not one of these philosophies is right, but rather all of them are, in a sense. Our perceptions and conceptions of the natural world don’t seem to suggest a supernatural, but, within the natural, the secular entities of the aformentioned theistic beliefs all seem relevent in their most basic forms. Their are problems with each, surely, but I don’t think Pantheism, Polytheism, or Monotheism can be entirely discounted. I also don’t think embracing the secular philosophical ideas behind each theistic belief makes me any less of an Atheist. At least in this scenario, my friend, Siddhartha, seems to make a valid point.