Don’t know what to say. I am a Mass going normie Catholic in a comfortable suburban parish in deep blue Massachusetts. We have a goofy but good parish priest. I teach 7th grade CCD. I work in law enforcement and find myself daily asking the opposite question you ask. Not how can God allow so much evil, but why did God die for some of us. Working a case with a 99 year old woman who had her life savings stolen and is looking at only state relief. She was praising God that I was even trying to help her with her case. All I could think of was, why would Jesus die for the guys who ripped her off?
God is strange. I know He exists, but I stopped trying to make sense of how all this works. I have a conviction that I have a job to do as a father and worker, and God wants me to keep my head down and plow ahead. Most people probably feel this way. I don’t know, I was thinking about my life, could God really love me, unconditionally? I usually read some New Testament in the morning but read your post instead and sent a few bucks. Was it God? I think it was, no reason I would normally do this and I try to avoid my phone as a distraction in the morning. I am probably doing religion wrong, don’t know. I am sure my life is full of contradictions, I hope it will all end up alright. I guess I have to accept that maybe it won’t, as well. Peace.
Please, please continue posting about your spiritual pilgrim-(r)age. I've just read some of the comments. Your distress--sometimes petulant, often abrasive, always an authentic expression of your anguish--clearly invites others to come alongside and share similar thoughts from their own travels.
I can't resist blurting out some of the stopping places on my own journey--from reading the New World Translation of the Jehovah's Witnesses, to practicing Latin pronunciation in junior choir in the Episcopal church, to a compelling experience of the presence and love of God as a teenager, to college atheism (and flagrant adulteries) followed by thirty years of Bible-believing Evangelicalism, to the unexpected discovery of the Catholic Church. My conversion allowed me to escape midlife burnout on the Evangelical side, but the spiritual consolations where I am placed have been modest, and guilt over my own (real and imagined) inadequacies persists. Therese of Lisieux I am not.
Why the commiseration of others with vastly different stories helps–if it does–may be one of the mysteries of consciousness (one piece of evidence that we are indeed “made in the image of God”). Our unique experiences, once communicated, can at times actually beget unity out of incontrovertible, essential diversity.
Thank you for allowing those of us who still believe (despite the inconsistencies and “plot holes”) to be among those who read your heart on this matter and care, however imperfectly, from a distance. Stay the course.
It's just so fundamental to our understanding of ourselves and our place in the universe. And raising a bunch of kids, I desperately want to get it right and put them on the correct footing, so they correspond with truth.
As much as I have all these problems with religion, I do not see much in the way of goodness outside of it. So what do we do with that?
I have been through and seen other people go through this, but coming from a Protestant/evangelical perspective. Generally people coming from churches with very precise and dogmatic doctrines tend to have the biggest crashes. These are the sort of churches and organizations which would teach that Catholics are not real Christians and needed to be saved (heard a lot of that in my teens).
I find that the people who tend to hold up the best over time are those with a high level of conviction but accept that understanding God, who presumably exists in some form of higher dimension, is simply not possible and we are really are just muddling through with our understanding. These people can be in any type of church, even some very dogmatic ones, they just don't internalize the more extreme dogma.
There have been times when my faith has not been much more than the old "I believe in God because I have seen the devil." I think that is OK even if not ideal, there can be a lot of substance and value in that approach.
The challenge is that aspects of this is fairly liberal approach to theology and can lead to having a very superficial faith without much conviction.
I agree with this a lot. Oddly enough, it is overwhelmingly the more liberal Christians that I find easier to talk to when it comes to faith. They seem much more tolerant of tough questions and the uneasiness of doubt that haunts most of us. Of course, that's my anecdotal experience, maybe it's different for you.
Keep in mind that I am talking in a theological sense and what is liberal can depend on context. For example I do not embrace biblical inerrancy and also accept Catholics as real Christians, in some churches I attended way back this would have been considered to be theologically liberal. I do not think this would have been considered liberal from a conservative Catholic perspective.
I find the more challenging people to talk to are those who explicitly identify as been theologically conservative or liberal, generally because they have something they are trying to prove.
Oh I totally understand. I'm not conflating political or cultural liberalism with theological liberalism. And as a lifelong Catholic I have been told countless times that I am not a Christian, and have been given a false gospel, and therefore am not "saved."
I was part of two whacky Catholic trad groups, and your correct, some of the worst people you will ever meet, I almost bolted too, but I ended up in a total normie parish, I’m not involved at all, but I go to daily mass there, and it’s great, I’ve met some of the best people in my life just walking from church to the car, give normie Catholicism another shot, you may be pleasantly surprised, daily mass is almost always quiet, and reverent, Sunday is usually an off broadway affair, but some worse than others
I've thought about it, but my wife has been looking for somewhere to go, and she is so underwhelmed. She grew up non-religious, but with a strong numinous impulse. Her parents were both from China. Her father a non-religious Confucian who essentially believed his ancestors were looking out for him; her mother a Chinese baptist who sometimes took her to services. She says all she sees in normie parishes is the Protestantism of her youth, and she can't stand it.
I have 27 years of memories of Novus Ordos all over the country (and many other countries besides) and I can't imagine going back. I can see the appeal in just letting go and taking what we're given, but what we're given isn't great.
In my visits back home, I've been impressed with the Masses at the Cathedral (which is beautiful), St. Michael's in Cary, and the little Byzantine Catholic parish in Cary (St. Cyril and Methodius). I grew up attending St. Timothy's Episcopal Church on Six Forks Road along with the school. In the 70's, we were singing Palestrina, while all the Catholic parishes were singing Kumbaya. Good luck with everything.
Without trying to be insufferable (because I’d say it about myself in your position), I do wonder if trying Orthodoxy again in your new area might be more beneficial this time around. Maybe not, though! I definitely don’t mean to suggest it would be an easy “fix” or anything like that.
Even though you said you’re thoroughly formed by Western thought & ethos, I must say, the things you despise about Catholicism on all sides (many of the same issues I have, as well) just don’t exist the same way in Orthodoxy, if at all. Eastern Catholicism isn’t the same thing; you still have all the problems that exist within Rome. There are problems in Orthodoxy too, don’t get me wrong. But, for example, I was in a Roman Catholic convent for five years and had NO idea there were “two views of the Cross” (the name of Frederica Mathewes-Green’s book on the topic). It blew my mind when I read it, and the Eastern view made so much more sense in the context of “God’s love” that we hear so much about, but don’t always experience very well.
I know the priest & his wife at All Saints Antiochian church in Raleigh and if you ever feel inclined one day, I’d recommend going there, at least once. Khouria Destinie (the priest’s wife) has a beautiful knack for embracing Western customs and traditions and applying them seamlessly to Orthodox life. It might be a good way to experience some of that Western “ethos” that feels familiar to you. Maybe it would be a bust, but I feel like there would be less of a chance to feel alienated there.
Anyway, I don’t mean to be annoying, but all that came to mind when I read this post, so I figured I’d share it.
Regardless of any of that, there aren’t always easy or convincing answers, and your questions and doubts and frustrations are valid. I’m glad you share these thoughts because you put to words what many of us also struggle with.
I appreciate your gentle suggestions. I don't feel like you're proselytizing. I will not close the door to trying this out when/if I get to the point that I feel called to go back. I think I'm still wrestling with a lot of the fundamentals.
We started a problem, with that original choice to judge for ourselves about good and evil.
Change is painful, and finding out we have been fundamentally wrong demands change. It's like falling into the miry pit. Becoming powerless was an essential start of my "faith journey". The Serenity Prayer is an intercession that gets it right about a power greater than ourselves, after learning that I don't know what I don't know.
We say "Ignorance is NO excuse" as if it were a verse from Proverbs. It sums up the The Law. And it directly contradicts, "Forgive them, for they know not what they do."
I don't believe original sin comports with any known principle of justice. I'm given to understand that the Eastern Orthodox don't even teach it. It's an Augustinian concept, and it leads him to the conclusion that the majority are damned - including the little babies who don't make it to baptism.
I also think the fall narrative reads like a setup. An omniscient God creates beings of spirit and matter with limited knowledge and places them in a context where doing one thing that they don't even understand is the thing that will cost them every gift and benefit. But it's only by doing that thing that they obtain the knowledge to understand why it's wrong. And it's only because God's already vanquished enemy -- a seraphim of unfathomable power and intelligence -- is allowed in to tempt and threaten and cajole those innocent, preternatural humans, that they fall at all.
And then, rather than mending the damage caused by this sin, he curses them? Makes it easier for them to sin, and harder to obtain union with God? Hides his face from them. Kicks them out of Eden. Burdens their lives with suffering. And passes that on to all of us?
Does a loving father who wants his children to succeed strip them of every means to do so? Does he send enemies who are smarter, more powerful, and more cunning than his children to trip them up? Does he knowingly create billions of souls he knows will be sentenced to eternal, conscious torment, knowing full well that they know next to nothing about either heaven or hell, or whether the supernatural realm is even real?
If the narrative of the fall we have been taught is true, then God designed us to fall. He knew full well what would happen and put us through it anyway. DB Hart minces no words here:
"This is not a complicated issue, it seems to me: The eternal perdition—the eternal suffering—of any soul would be an abominable tragedy, and therefore a profound natural evil; this much is stated quite clearly by scripture, in asserting that God “intends all human beings to be saved and to come to a full knowledge of truth” (1 Timothy 2:4). A natural evil, however, becomes a moral evil precisely to the degree that it is the positive intention, even if only conditionally, of a rational will. God could not, then, directly intend a soul’s ultimate destruction, or even intend that a soul bring about its own destruction, without positively willing the evil end as an evil end; such a result could not possibly be comprised within the ends purposed by a truly good will (in any sense of the word “good” intelligible to us). Yet, if both the doctrine of creatio ex nihilo and that of eternal damnation are true, that very evil is indeed already comprised within the positive intentions and dispositions of God. No refuge is offered here by some specious distinction between God’s antecedent and consequent wills—between, that is, his universal will for creation apart from the fall and his particular will regarding each creature in consequence of the fall. Under the canopy of God’s omnipotence and omniscience, the consequent is already wholly virtually present in the antecedent. Nor, for the same reason, does it help here to draw a distinction between evils that are positively willed and evils that are providentially permitted for the sake of some greater good. A greater good is by definition a conditional and therefore relative good; its conditions are already and inalienably part of its positive content. Moreover, in this case, the evil by which this putative good has been accomplished must be accounted an eternally present condition within that good, since an endless punishment is—at least for the soul that experiences it—an end intended in itself. This evil, then, must remain forever the “other side” of whatever good it might help to bring about. So, while we may no doubt hope that some limited good will emerge from the cosmic drama, one that is somehow preponderant over the evil, limited it must forever remain; at such an unspeakable and irrecuperable cost, it can be at best only a tragically ambiguous good. This is the price of creation, it would seem. God, on this view, has “made a bargain” with a natural evil. He has willed the tragedy, not just as a transient dissonance within creation’s goodness, leading ultimately to a soul’s correction, but as that irreducible quantum of eternal loss that, however small in relation to the whole, still reduces all else to a merely relative value."
As an aspiring fiction writer, I find so many plot holes in this story, such an excessive requirement for suspension of disbelief, that I don't know how to accept it.
It seems to me that most doctrines are the result of human beings trying to answer questions about mysteries...why? in order to prove that we don't know what we don't know? Righteousness does not come from knowing things we cannot know. That's a wrong foundation. The Truth is not a what. It is a who: Faith is believing that my purpose is to love as he loves, Christ-centered rather than self-centered (our "original" sin).
There's a lot to unpack in what you wrote. One thing that has been important to me as I've "deconstructed" my former trad Catholic life has been to categorize my issues one by one so I can figure out where my points of contention are - is this issue theological? cultural? human? Is there nuance to this issue wherein I can still be considered orthodox? It's been a decade, and I'm still doing this. This takes time, and you will only see things with more clarity as the emotional stings from those trads you described so well continue to fade.
I've worshiped in a number of places - both Catholic and non-Catholic - since I left the trad movement. It's relatively easy to find what initially appear to be greener pastures, be they better sermons, liturgical beauty, nicer people - in short, a place where you feel like you belong. The two lessons I've had to learn the hard way (multiple times now because apparently I've got a thick head and my first time at the rodeo in the 90's wasn't sufficient) are first humans are humans, no matter the theological creed, or having no creed at all; and second, it seems religions only really work well for those who fully buy into the "system" (theology, ecclesiology, philosophy, culture, etc.).
Maybe I'm coming to the point where I believe the main purpose of any religious system is to try to codify answers to the question of "why"? Since my 20's I've had my own set of "why" questions, mostly along the lines of why God, if he exists, doesn't directly intervene in human tragedy. Initially, I was focused only on my own human tragedy (self-centered, I know). I spent many an hour in prayer with tears begging God to heal various places of brokenness in my own life to no avail. In the last number of years, I've struggled especially as I've watched documentaries on places like South Sudan and Haiti - which is human tragedy on a whole different plane. In the past, I somehow found a way to wrestle with the orthodox answers to my "why questions" and hang onto my Christian faith, albeit oftentimes smaller than a mustard seed. But these days, I don't have much fight left anymore.
I've often said my spiritual life is like peeling back the layers of an onion to remove a damaged layer, only to find my layers of corruption underneath. This corruption is what led me back to the Catholic Church from Protestantism, and then to the trad movement to begin with... but in the search for truth and authenticity, there were and still are more layers to uncover. (One of those layers has been apparitions and miracles. Here's two more with very delayed recorded history: Lanciano and the miracles of St. Nicholas - the earliest recorded accounts of these are both 200 years after they allegedly happened). I must admit that I'm afraid that when I'm done peeling back all the layers, there won't be any of the onion left.
For two decades of my life, it was a question of whether to be Roman Catholic or Eastern Orthodox, thanks to issues like papal infallibility. Now, it has become more a question of whether Jewish history and anthropology as laid out in the sacred scriptures of the Old Testament are in direct contradiction to modern archeological findings. If the Old Testament is more or less a myth laid out in an attempt to unite the the Israelite people in their supposed history and their divine mission (as was not uncommon for many people groups), then why believe in Christianity which depends so much on the Old Testament prophecies and archetypes to be true?
You wrote, "I am not content with nihilism, or materialism, or even theistically-open agnosticism. These are not workable long-term states of being." The good news (if there is any good news in this state of being) is that you don't have to have this all figured out or figure out what label you should apply to yourself. I recently listened to a youtube video called "Doubting or Reconstructing" on the channel "Mindshift" that deals with this question that you might also find helpful. But in the end, and this is very hard, whether or not one is content really isn't the question.
Like I said, a lot to unpack. I'll stop here before I write an essay in your combox. Like another commenter said, these types of posts are uniquely yours. Please consider writing more.
Mindshift is a very interesting YouTube channel, it's one of many "deconstructing from religion" channels I watch on occasion. The one hang-up I have with so many of these de-converts is they tend to swing the pendulum in the extreme opposite direction and embrace radical left wing pathologies. It's almost as if they have been so badly hurt by one form of fundamentalism, they embrace another form of it. Same zeal, same energy, just different dogmas now.
I agree. While I have not listened extensively to the Mindshift channel, the host strikes me, in general, as reasonable and lacking vitriol in the way he covers topics. I can't say that about others I have listened to. Perhaps the worst I have found are ex-Catholics who become atheists, but who obviously never understood the Faith to begin with. As I've argued on the extrad subreddit on a few occasions, the antidote to some of the theological and cultural problems that people like Steve and I experienced in the trad movement is not the typical anti-Catholic clap-trap, but rather a more scholarly approach. Without this, the end result is what you mention about zeal, and you're only going to look smart to those who are dumb, but a fool to everyone else.
I think Steve is an example of someone who has left the faith, but on certain key issues such as abortion, has not swung the pendulum far in the other direction. I know some would say that this represents, perhaps, a political or cultural bias on Steve's part, and that might be true. But I do believe that reasonable individuals without faith can still make arguments against various evils of our day. I'll equate what you said about "left wing ideologies" with societal evils rather than necessarily meaning political ideologies. Because in the end, I don't believe all aspirations of the political left are necessarily evil, such as policies to preserve the environment or legislation requiring employers to pay a living wage. I'd really wish we'd stop the political polarization of issues such as these, and deal with them in a reasonable way.
Final thought: Many years ago I was involved in a non-Catholic denomination that boldly made the offer that if "we're teaching something incorrect, we want you to teach us where we're wrong". I was naive enough to take them up on this request and endure a lot of trauma from that all the way through my family being formerly disfellowshipped from that congregation. I think being curious and skeptical are good things, especially in the times we live. Doing so makes us vulnerable, and our research may cause us to look deeper into an issue or through a lens we had not considered before. Maybe the things I learn will cause me to modify my views. But even if they don't, it should help make me a more rounded, compassionate person. Why is everyone so scared of that?
Yeah, I think you're right. The vast majority of people are not sociopaths who want to watch the world burn just for fun. Whether they are left of center or right of center, they just want to take care of their families and lead happy lives. In my own personal life my family is all over the place politically and religiously, so I have no problem with different views. And maybe that's just part of getting older too, you realize hey, I can't die on every hill, and having disagreements is not the end of the world.
Anyway, good thoughts all around from your fingers to screen, may your tribe increase as they say. Just out of curiosity, may I ask what denomination disfellowshipped you? This is a common thing that happens to people who eventually deconstruct from Christianity. They asked too many questions or did not think the answers added up, and eventually become a pest to the congregation and must go. This is across all denominations by the way, not trying to pick on anybody. Take care, Thomas. 12.7.24
This resonates with me 100%. I still attend Mass every Sunday, and frequent the sacrament of reconciliation quite often. I am not, and have never been a "spiritual" person, and usually I find people like this to be extremely annoying and a little too irenic in their approach. Maybe some of them mean well, but too often it comes across as a larp. It may be the case that some people are more psychologically conditioned to accept religion, and others can't seem to move the needle one silly millimeter more.
On the other hand, I can't embrace atheism without becoming some kind of nihilist. I'm stuck in this limbo where I still believe in God but can't find a way to love and adore him like I'm told to. And that's the thing, I'm tired of people telling me all about God when they have no more of a clue than I do, they make so many claims and assertions that just can't be verified. Just this morning I had a discussion with my little sister about this topic, and she is an agnostic who finds the story of Christianity to be nonsense. I really don't have any good answers to help her.
Anyway, you're not alone. I think it's helpful to talk to people who have the same struggles, and you write so well on this subject.
You may get a kick out of this, an AI prompt for an argument for morality without God in the style of G.K. Chesterton:
The Foundation of Morality Without God
It is a strange and thrilling thing to argue for the possibility of morality without God, as if one were advocating for a roof without walls or a symphony played upon silence. Yet it is precisely such a task that we undertake here—not because the existence of God is unimportant, but because the skeptics among us demand to see whether morality can stand even if the divine scaffolding is removed. And I, for one, am inclined to believe that it can—but only because the architecture of humanity itself is sturdy enough to bear the weight.
The Common House of Humanity
Let us begin with something simple and sane, something that even the most quarrelsome relativist cannot deny: human beings are profoundly social creatures. Our very survival depends upon trust, upon the idea that I may entrust my life, my labor, and even my frailties to the hands of another without fear of betrayal. Without trust, there can be no society; without society, no civilization; without civilization, no life worth living.
Thus, the first bricks in the house of morality are laid not by God’s decree but by the very nature of human existence. The protection of the vulnerable, the keeping of promises, the insistence upon justice—these are not abstractions, but necessities. A society that abandons its weakest members, that treats promises as trifles, or that permits might to make right will not long endure. History is littered with the ruins of such societies, and their fall was not a matter of divine wrath but of human consequence.
The Golden Rule and the Bedrock of Trust
Now, a clever skeptic might say, "Ah, but morality is just your opinion!" And this is where I must pause to laugh, for morality is nothing of the sort. The great genius of morality is not that it is my opinion or yours but that it reflects a common instinct—the instinct to see ourselves in others and to act accordingly. Call it the Golden Rule, call it empathy, call it enlightened self-interest if you like, but its truth is evident to anyone with eyes to see.
Take, for example, the matter of fidelity. Why is it wrong to betray one’s partner, even if they never find out? Not because of some celestial decree but because trust, once broken, weakens the bonds that hold people together. A society that normalizes infidelity would not merely harm individual relationships—it would sow suspicion and cynicism throughout the whole fabric of life. And while I may not need a commandment to tell me this, I do need a conscience that whispers, "Would you wish this done to you?" The answer, invariably, is no.
The Pragmatic and the Eternal
But here we come to the crux of the matter: is morality, then, merely pragmatic? Does it serve only to ensure that society does not collapse under the weight of its own selfishness? To this, I must answer both yes and no. Yes, morality is practical; indeed, it is the most practical thing in the world. But no, it is not merely practical, for it is also beautiful, and beauty is never "mere."
Consider the example of protecting the unborn child, who is surely among the most vulnerable of all. Some might argue that the child’s dependence makes it expendable. But this is precisely why the child must be protected: because the measure of a society is not its strength but its willingness to care for those who cannot care for themselves. To abandon the unborn, or the disabled, or the aged, is to deny the very principle that makes morality possible: the recognition of value beyond utility, of dignity beyond power.
The Rebuttal to Relativism
Ah, but the relativist will object: "All this is just human opinion dressed up in fancy rhetoric!" To which I reply: Of course morality is human, for it is humans who need it. But to say that morality is human is not to say that it is arbitrary. The need for trust, the value of empathy, the principle of reciprocity—these are not inventions but discoveries, as real and objective as the laws of gravity or the truths of arithmetic. They are the bedrock upon which any society must be built, whether that society invokes the divine or not.
A Conservative Foundation
In this sense, morality without God has a curious kinship with morally conservative principles. It insists upon the protection of life, the honoring of commitments, and the fostering of a culture that values trust and dignity. It understands that morality is not a series of rules imposed from without but a living tradition arising from within—a tradition that must be preserved, not because it is sacred but because it is true.
The Conclusion of the Matter
And so we return to the beginning. Can morality exist without God? Yes, it can, for it is rooted in the nature of humanity itself. But I will leave you with this paradox, for paradoxes are the soul of truth: while morality may not require God, it requires something very much like Him—a recognition that beyond our fleeting desires lies a deeper order, a shared responsibility, and a truth that binds us together. Whether we call this God or nature or reason, it is the foundation of the moral life, and it stands firm.
And that, I think, is something even the skeptic can believe.
This is my second read-through of your post here. I can relate to the feeling of homelessness, though my personal journey hasn't involved nearly as much anger.
I was raised as a Mormon, and Mormons have a soteriology that's quasi-universalist. Basically, anyone who doesn't get a fair chance to convert to Mormonism while on earth can be saved in the afterlife through baptism for the dead, and even those who fall short of that standard will still, almost all the time, be punished by God only temporarily before being saved in one of the lesser kingdoms of heaven. (They're not reunited with God the Father for all eternity, but they're not tormented, either; even the lower kingdoms are a paradise by earthly standards.) Only a few of the vilest, most intentional sinners - people like Judas Iscariot - will be cast out with the Devil for all eternity.
Mormons also have answers to questions like: "Why has Christ not spoken to the Church in all this time?" Their answer is that he did, through the Prophet Joseph Smith, and that Christians who accept his new message can leave their denominational divisions behind and be reunited under men called by God's own voice to lead them.
Obviously, in real life this just meant adding even more quarrelling denominations to the mix (the Utah-based LDS church is only the largest out of a dozen or so Mormon sects, it turns out Joseph Smith wasn't any better than the authors of the New Testament at providing a clear succession law.)
Now, while I do have a sense of religious homelessness (there are claims the Mormon church makes about its history, and its exclusive authority to speak for God, that I can't believe any more) I've never really had reasons to be angry at God, or at the Mormon church. Mormons are, in general, quite nice and loving people, not at all like the Trad Catholics you've complained about so much here, and their God isn't a tyrant either (hence the quasi-universalism). While I know plenty of ex-Mormons who have become atheists or agnostics, I think this is mainly because being a Mormon makes it very hard to convert to any other branch of Christianity, for the simple reason that most of its criticisms of mainstream Christianity are true. (i.e. if God demands precise obedience to his laws, then why doesn't he send new prophets from time to time to resolve disagreements about said laws? And if the Christian God really does send people to a fiery hell because they never heard about the Gospel, then how is he better than Marduk or Huitzilopochtli after all?)
Personally, I've never found atheism the least bit convincing. I believe that people and other life forms have a Creator. (I'm not an earth-is-6000-years-old guy, but I find the idea of life spontaneously emerging from the primordial sea and growing in complexity from bacteria to humans, all on its own, to be an absurdity of the sort that only a really, really dogmatic person could believe in.) Also, I believe that God or the Gods sometimes answer people's prayers (why some prayers and not others? I have no idea, but why should I? In the big scheme of things, we human beings and our problems are quite small.) And I believe that respect for the Creator requires that one live by Christian ethics, as they have been commonly understood by most Christian cultures throughout history. (So, for instance, a variety of perspectives on the proper use of violence must be considered, but there's no similar complexity when it comes to adultery or bearing false witness.)
What is one to do with such beliefs? Where is one to go to find a spiritual home among like-minded people? I have no idea. And since I'm still single and probably won't marry until I finish my doctorate (3 or 4 years from now) I'm not in too much of a hurry to find a faith community. But I do know that, when I have a wife and children, I'll need one. And so I do have to live with that nagging worry at the back of my mind.
Great comment. This especially resonated: "If God demands precise obedience to his laws, then why doesn't he send new prophets from time to time to resolve disagreements about said laws?"
I don't like atheism, because it lacks explanatory power. I'm just not all sure that if there is a creator, he cares about us or how we relate to him. For many of the reasons you outline here.
But yeah, having kids changes everything. It's one of the hardest parts about being where I am.
Basically, he makes the claim that what is true about the "Prophetic Religions" - which slowly began emerging around the 6th century BC, and which make a big deal about holy books, exclusive authority to act in God's name, a community of believers defined by doctrinal adherence, and the threat of eternal judgment looming over it all - is by no means true about religion in general. They represent only one "religious sensibility" out of many; they came in at a specific time in mankind's development, and they will go out (gradually, not suddenly) when their time has passed - which in Greer's perspective is happening right about now.
In noting the misanthropic spirit of some of the trads you’ve been immersed with, I think you need to ask whether you yourself are entirely free from such faults. Speaking of “cantor Cathy” etc., I guess we’ve all had a laugh over off-key singers, but a Christian who sees God in everyone might try to show a bit more forbearance.
I recently surrendered to my neighbor’s repeated invitations to attend his evangelical church, and noting the general tackiness of stuff like, for example, the symbolic ‘blood of Christ’ passed around event-center style tables in little plastic cups that looked like coffee creamers, it certainly didn’t give the service the same mystical aura achieved in the Catholic tradition, but I felt the presence of God in the people there. People whose love of God and neighbor drove them to come together each week, and make some countercultural sacrifices. They seemed, overall, like a more kind and caring bunch than the random group of individuals you might find at, say, a movie theatre.
I have been reading Charles Taylor’s “A Secular Age” and liked his observation that Christian apologists generally try to win converts via rational arguments to prove God’s existence and the truth of their own particular dogma, whereas converts are more frequently drawn in by the lived examples of Christians who they find admirable.
I am a misanthrope myself. I don't like it. Life has jaded me. I often really enjoy individual people, but have a negative outlook on humanity in general. Probably too many bad experiences.
And I rarely feel that I "see God in" anyone. But then, I don't really see him anywhere.
I'm not proud of this. But if I'm being honest, it's something I really struggle with. Not sure what to do about it.
Totally agree with and feel all of this... It's why I first followed you and subscribed on here. There are no easy answers and it kind of sucks 😭
Thanks. I actually question posting things like this. I wonder if there's any point. But I also know I'm not alone in wondering these things.
Don’t know what to say. I am a Mass going normie Catholic in a comfortable suburban parish in deep blue Massachusetts. We have a goofy but good parish priest. I teach 7th grade CCD. I work in law enforcement and find myself daily asking the opposite question you ask. Not how can God allow so much evil, but why did God die for some of us. Working a case with a 99 year old woman who had her life savings stolen and is looking at only state relief. She was praising God that I was even trying to help her with her case. All I could think of was, why would Jesus die for the guys who ripped her off?
God is strange. I know He exists, but I stopped trying to make sense of how all this works. I have a conviction that I have a job to do as a father and worker, and God wants me to keep my head down and plow ahead. Most people probably feel this way. I don’t know, I was thinking about my life, could God really love me, unconditionally? I usually read some New Testament in the morning but read your post instead and sent a few bucks. Was it God? I think it was, no reason I would normally do this and I try to avoid my phone as a distraction in the morning. I am probably doing religion wrong, don’t know. I am sure my life is full of contradictions, I hope it will all end up alright. I guess I have to accept that maybe it won’t, as well. Peace.
Please, please continue posting about your spiritual pilgrim-(r)age. I've just read some of the comments. Your distress--sometimes petulant, often abrasive, always an authentic expression of your anguish--clearly invites others to come alongside and share similar thoughts from their own travels.
I can't resist blurting out some of the stopping places on my own journey--from reading the New World Translation of the Jehovah's Witnesses, to practicing Latin pronunciation in junior choir in the Episcopal church, to a compelling experience of the presence and love of God as a teenager, to college atheism (and flagrant adulteries) followed by thirty years of Bible-believing Evangelicalism, to the unexpected discovery of the Catholic Church. My conversion allowed me to escape midlife burnout on the Evangelical side, but the spiritual consolations where I am placed have been modest, and guilt over my own (real and imagined) inadequacies persists. Therese of Lisieux I am not.
Why the commiseration of others with vastly different stories helps–if it does–may be one of the mysteries of consciousness (one piece of evidence that we are indeed “made in the image of God”). Our unique experiences, once communicated, can at times actually beget unity out of incontrovertible, essential diversity.
Thank you for allowing those of us who still believe (despite the inconsistencies and “plot holes”) to be among those who read your heart on this matter and care, however imperfectly, from a distance. Stay the course.
Thank you for this. I find it very encouraging.
It's just so fundamental to our understanding of ourselves and our place in the universe. And raising a bunch of kids, I desperately want to get it right and put them on the correct footing, so they correspond with truth.
As much as I have all these problems with religion, I do not see much in the way of goodness outside of it. So what do we do with that?
I have been through and seen other people go through this, but coming from a Protestant/evangelical perspective. Generally people coming from churches with very precise and dogmatic doctrines tend to have the biggest crashes. These are the sort of churches and organizations which would teach that Catholics are not real Christians and needed to be saved (heard a lot of that in my teens).
I find that the people who tend to hold up the best over time are those with a high level of conviction but accept that understanding God, who presumably exists in some form of higher dimension, is simply not possible and we are really are just muddling through with our understanding. These people can be in any type of church, even some very dogmatic ones, they just don't internalize the more extreme dogma.
There have been times when my faith has not been much more than the old "I believe in God because I have seen the devil." I think that is OK even if not ideal, there can be a lot of substance and value in that approach.
The challenge is that aspects of this is fairly liberal approach to theology and can lead to having a very superficial faith without much conviction.
I agree with this a lot. Oddly enough, it is overwhelmingly the more liberal Christians that I find easier to talk to when it comes to faith. They seem much more tolerant of tough questions and the uneasiness of doubt that haunts most of us. Of course, that's my anecdotal experience, maybe it's different for you.
Keep in mind that I am talking in a theological sense and what is liberal can depend on context. For example I do not embrace biblical inerrancy and also accept Catholics as real Christians, in some churches I attended way back this would have been considered to be theologically liberal. I do not think this would have been considered liberal from a conservative Catholic perspective.
I find the more challenging people to talk to are those who explicitly identify as been theologically conservative or liberal, generally because they have something they are trying to prove.
Oh I totally understand. I'm not conflating political or cultural liberalism with theological liberalism. And as a lifelong Catholic I have been told countless times that I am not a Christian, and have been given a false gospel, and therefore am not "saved."
Wow, are you me? Haha I couldn’t possibly have said it any better. So how and where do you choose to worship, then?
I was part of two whacky Catholic trad groups, and your correct, some of the worst people you will ever meet, I almost bolted too, but I ended up in a total normie parish, I’m not involved at all, but I go to daily mass there, and it’s great, I’ve met some of the best people in my life just walking from church to the car, give normie Catholicism another shot, you may be pleasantly surprised, daily mass is almost always quiet, and reverent, Sunday is usually an off broadway affair, but some worse than others
I've thought about it, but my wife has been looking for somewhere to go, and she is so underwhelmed. She grew up non-religious, but with a strong numinous impulse. Her parents were both from China. Her father a non-religious Confucian who essentially believed his ancestors were looking out for him; her mother a Chinese baptist who sometimes took her to services. She says all she sees in normie parishes is the Protestantism of her youth, and she can't stand it.
I have 27 years of memories of Novus Ordos all over the country (and many other countries besides) and I can't imagine going back. I can see the appeal in just letting go and taking what we're given, but what we're given isn't great.
In my visits back home, I've been impressed with the Masses at the Cathedral (which is beautiful), St. Michael's in Cary, and the little Byzantine Catholic parish in Cary (St. Cyril and Methodius). I grew up attending St. Timothy's Episcopal Church on Six Forks Road along with the school. In the 70's, we were singing Palestrina, while all the Catholic parishes were singing Kumbaya. Good luck with everything.
I understand this, & I’m sorry.
Without trying to be insufferable (because I’d say it about myself in your position), I do wonder if trying Orthodoxy again in your new area might be more beneficial this time around. Maybe not, though! I definitely don’t mean to suggest it would be an easy “fix” or anything like that.
Even though you said you’re thoroughly formed by Western thought & ethos, I must say, the things you despise about Catholicism on all sides (many of the same issues I have, as well) just don’t exist the same way in Orthodoxy, if at all. Eastern Catholicism isn’t the same thing; you still have all the problems that exist within Rome. There are problems in Orthodoxy too, don’t get me wrong. But, for example, I was in a Roman Catholic convent for five years and had NO idea there were “two views of the Cross” (the name of Frederica Mathewes-Green’s book on the topic). It blew my mind when I read it, and the Eastern view made so much more sense in the context of “God’s love” that we hear so much about, but don’t always experience very well.
I know the priest & his wife at All Saints Antiochian church in Raleigh and if you ever feel inclined one day, I’d recommend going there, at least once. Khouria Destinie (the priest’s wife) has a beautiful knack for embracing Western customs and traditions and applying them seamlessly to Orthodox life. It might be a good way to experience some of that Western “ethos” that feels familiar to you. Maybe it would be a bust, but I feel like there would be less of a chance to feel alienated there.
Anyway, I don’t mean to be annoying, but all that came to mind when I read this post, so I figured I’d share it.
Regardless of any of that, there aren’t always easy or convincing answers, and your questions and doubts and frustrations are valid. I’m glad you share these thoughts because you put to words what many of us also struggle with.
I appreciate your gentle suggestions. I don't feel like you're proselytizing. I will not close the door to trying this out when/if I get to the point that I feel called to go back. I think I'm still wrestling with a lot of the fundamentals.
You are certainly not alone.
We started a problem, with that original choice to judge for ourselves about good and evil.
Change is painful, and finding out we have been fundamentally wrong demands change. It's like falling into the miry pit. Becoming powerless was an essential start of my "faith journey". The Serenity Prayer is an intercession that gets it right about a power greater than ourselves, after learning that I don't know what I don't know.
We say "Ignorance is NO excuse" as if it were a verse from Proverbs. It sums up the The Law. And it directly contradicts, "Forgive them, for they know not what they do."
Ignorance is my ONLY excuse.
I don't believe original sin comports with any known principle of justice. I'm given to understand that the Eastern Orthodox don't even teach it. It's an Augustinian concept, and it leads him to the conclusion that the majority are damned - including the little babies who don't make it to baptism.
I also think the fall narrative reads like a setup. An omniscient God creates beings of spirit and matter with limited knowledge and places them in a context where doing one thing that they don't even understand is the thing that will cost them every gift and benefit. But it's only by doing that thing that they obtain the knowledge to understand why it's wrong. And it's only because God's already vanquished enemy -- a seraphim of unfathomable power and intelligence -- is allowed in to tempt and threaten and cajole those innocent, preternatural humans, that they fall at all.
And then, rather than mending the damage caused by this sin, he curses them? Makes it easier for them to sin, and harder to obtain union with God? Hides his face from them. Kicks them out of Eden. Burdens their lives with suffering. And passes that on to all of us?
Does a loving father who wants his children to succeed strip them of every means to do so? Does he send enemies who are smarter, more powerful, and more cunning than his children to trip them up? Does he knowingly create billions of souls he knows will be sentenced to eternal, conscious torment, knowing full well that they know next to nothing about either heaven or hell, or whether the supernatural realm is even real?
If the narrative of the fall we have been taught is true, then God designed us to fall. He knew full well what would happen and put us through it anyway. DB Hart minces no words here:
"This is not a complicated issue, it seems to me: The eternal perdition—the eternal suffering—of any soul would be an abominable tragedy, and therefore a profound natural evil; this much is stated quite clearly by scripture, in asserting that God “intends all human beings to be saved and to come to a full knowledge of truth” (1 Timothy 2:4). A natural evil, however, becomes a moral evil precisely to the degree that it is the positive intention, even if only conditionally, of a rational will. God could not, then, directly intend a soul’s ultimate destruction, or even intend that a soul bring about its own destruction, without positively willing the evil end as an evil end; such a result could not possibly be comprised within the ends purposed by a truly good will (in any sense of the word “good” intelligible to us). Yet, if both the doctrine of creatio ex nihilo and that of eternal damnation are true, that very evil is indeed already comprised within the positive intentions and dispositions of God. No refuge is offered here by some specious distinction between God’s antecedent and consequent wills—between, that is, his universal will for creation apart from the fall and his particular will regarding each creature in consequence of the fall. Under the canopy of God’s omnipotence and omniscience, the consequent is already wholly virtually present in the antecedent. Nor, for the same reason, does it help here to draw a distinction between evils that are positively willed and evils that are providentially permitted for the sake of some greater good. A greater good is by definition a conditional and therefore relative good; its conditions are already and inalienably part of its positive content. Moreover, in this case, the evil by which this putative good has been accomplished must be accounted an eternally present condition within that good, since an endless punishment is—at least for the soul that experiences it—an end intended in itself. This evil, then, must remain forever the “other side” of whatever good it might help to bring about. So, while we may no doubt hope that some limited good will emerge from the cosmic drama, one that is somehow preponderant over the evil, limited it must forever remain; at such an unspeakable and irrecuperable cost, it can be at best only a tragically ambiguous good. This is the price of creation, it would seem. God, on this view, has “made a bargain” with a natural evil. He has willed the tragedy, not just as a transient dissonance within creation’s goodness, leading ultimately to a soul’s correction, but as that irreducible quantum of eternal loss that, however small in relation to the whole, still reduces all else to a merely relative value."
As an aspiring fiction writer, I find so many plot holes in this story, such an excessive requirement for suspension of disbelief, that I don't know how to accept it.
Thank you!
It seems to me that most doctrines are the result of human beings trying to answer questions about mysteries...why? in order to prove that we don't know what we don't know? Righteousness does not come from knowing things we cannot know. That's a wrong foundation. The Truth is not a what. It is a who: Faith is believing that my purpose is to love as he loves, Christ-centered rather than self-centered (our "original" sin).
You identify with the Jesus of Psalm 22.
Sunday's always a-Comin'.
Well that's not very encouraging.
Thank you for posting this. You are not alone.
There's a lot to unpack in what you wrote. One thing that has been important to me as I've "deconstructed" my former trad Catholic life has been to categorize my issues one by one so I can figure out where my points of contention are - is this issue theological? cultural? human? Is there nuance to this issue wherein I can still be considered orthodox? It's been a decade, and I'm still doing this. This takes time, and you will only see things with more clarity as the emotional stings from those trads you described so well continue to fade.
I've worshiped in a number of places - both Catholic and non-Catholic - since I left the trad movement. It's relatively easy to find what initially appear to be greener pastures, be they better sermons, liturgical beauty, nicer people - in short, a place where you feel like you belong. The two lessons I've had to learn the hard way (multiple times now because apparently I've got a thick head and my first time at the rodeo in the 90's wasn't sufficient) are first humans are humans, no matter the theological creed, or having no creed at all; and second, it seems religions only really work well for those who fully buy into the "system" (theology, ecclesiology, philosophy, culture, etc.).
Maybe I'm coming to the point where I believe the main purpose of any religious system is to try to codify answers to the question of "why"? Since my 20's I've had my own set of "why" questions, mostly along the lines of why God, if he exists, doesn't directly intervene in human tragedy. Initially, I was focused only on my own human tragedy (self-centered, I know). I spent many an hour in prayer with tears begging God to heal various places of brokenness in my own life to no avail. In the last number of years, I've struggled especially as I've watched documentaries on places like South Sudan and Haiti - which is human tragedy on a whole different plane. In the past, I somehow found a way to wrestle with the orthodox answers to my "why questions" and hang onto my Christian faith, albeit oftentimes smaller than a mustard seed. But these days, I don't have much fight left anymore.
I've often said my spiritual life is like peeling back the layers of an onion to remove a damaged layer, only to find my layers of corruption underneath. This corruption is what led me back to the Catholic Church from Protestantism, and then to the trad movement to begin with... but in the search for truth and authenticity, there were and still are more layers to uncover. (One of those layers has been apparitions and miracles. Here's two more with very delayed recorded history: Lanciano and the miracles of St. Nicholas - the earliest recorded accounts of these are both 200 years after they allegedly happened). I must admit that I'm afraid that when I'm done peeling back all the layers, there won't be any of the onion left.
For two decades of my life, it was a question of whether to be Roman Catholic or Eastern Orthodox, thanks to issues like papal infallibility. Now, it has become more a question of whether Jewish history and anthropology as laid out in the sacred scriptures of the Old Testament are in direct contradiction to modern archeological findings. If the Old Testament is more or less a myth laid out in an attempt to unite the the Israelite people in their supposed history and their divine mission (as was not uncommon for many people groups), then why believe in Christianity which depends so much on the Old Testament prophecies and archetypes to be true?
You wrote, "I am not content with nihilism, or materialism, or even theistically-open agnosticism. These are not workable long-term states of being." The good news (if there is any good news in this state of being) is that you don't have to have this all figured out or figure out what label you should apply to yourself. I recently listened to a youtube video called "Doubting or Reconstructing" on the channel "Mindshift" that deals with this question that you might also find helpful. But in the end, and this is very hard, whether or not one is content really isn't the question.
Like I said, a lot to unpack. I'll stop here before I write an essay in your combox. Like another commenter said, these types of posts are uniquely yours. Please consider writing more.
Mindshift is a very interesting YouTube channel, it's one of many "deconstructing from religion" channels I watch on occasion. The one hang-up I have with so many of these de-converts is they tend to swing the pendulum in the extreme opposite direction and embrace radical left wing pathologies. It's almost as if they have been so badly hurt by one form of fundamentalism, they embrace another form of it. Same zeal, same energy, just different dogmas now.
Thanks for your reply, Anthony.
I agree. While I have not listened extensively to the Mindshift channel, the host strikes me, in general, as reasonable and lacking vitriol in the way he covers topics. I can't say that about others I have listened to. Perhaps the worst I have found are ex-Catholics who become atheists, but who obviously never understood the Faith to begin with. As I've argued on the extrad subreddit on a few occasions, the antidote to some of the theological and cultural problems that people like Steve and I experienced in the trad movement is not the typical anti-Catholic clap-trap, but rather a more scholarly approach. Without this, the end result is what you mention about zeal, and you're only going to look smart to those who are dumb, but a fool to everyone else.
I think Steve is an example of someone who has left the faith, but on certain key issues such as abortion, has not swung the pendulum far in the other direction. I know some would say that this represents, perhaps, a political or cultural bias on Steve's part, and that might be true. But I do believe that reasonable individuals without faith can still make arguments against various evils of our day. I'll equate what you said about "left wing ideologies" with societal evils rather than necessarily meaning political ideologies. Because in the end, I don't believe all aspirations of the political left are necessarily evil, such as policies to preserve the environment or legislation requiring employers to pay a living wage. I'd really wish we'd stop the political polarization of issues such as these, and deal with them in a reasonable way.
Final thought: Many years ago I was involved in a non-Catholic denomination that boldly made the offer that if "we're teaching something incorrect, we want you to teach us where we're wrong". I was naive enough to take them up on this request and endure a lot of trauma from that all the way through my family being formerly disfellowshipped from that congregation. I think being curious and skeptical are good things, especially in the times we live. Doing so makes us vulnerable, and our research may cause us to look deeper into an issue or through a lens we had not considered before. Maybe the things I learn will cause me to modify my views. But even if they don't, it should help make me a more rounded, compassionate person. Why is everyone so scared of that?
Yeah, I think you're right. The vast majority of people are not sociopaths who want to watch the world burn just for fun. Whether they are left of center or right of center, they just want to take care of their families and lead happy lives. In my own personal life my family is all over the place politically and religiously, so I have no problem with different views. And maybe that's just part of getting older too, you realize hey, I can't die on every hill, and having disagreements is not the end of the world.
Anyway, good thoughts all around from your fingers to screen, may your tribe increase as they say. Just out of curiosity, may I ask what denomination disfellowshipped you? This is a common thing that happens to people who eventually deconstruct from Christianity. They asked too many questions or did not think the answers added up, and eventually become a pest to the congregation and must go. This is across all denominations by the way, not trying to pick on anybody. Take care, Thomas. 12.7.24
This resonates with me 100%. I still attend Mass every Sunday, and frequent the sacrament of reconciliation quite often. I am not, and have never been a "spiritual" person, and usually I find people like this to be extremely annoying and a little too irenic in their approach. Maybe some of them mean well, but too often it comes across as a larp. It may be the case that some people are more psychologically conditioned to accept religion, and others can't seem to move the needle one silly millimeter more.
On the other hand, I can't embrace atheism without becoming some kind of nihilist. I'm stuck in this limbo where I still believe in God but can't find a way to love and adore him like I'm told to. And that's the thing, I'm tired of people telling me all about God when they have no more of a clue than I do, they make so many claims and assertions that just can't be verified. Just this morning I had a discussion with my little sister about this topic, and she is an agnostic who finds the story of Christianity to be nonsense. I really don't have any good answers to help her.
Anyway, you're not alone. I think it's helpful to talk to people who have the same struggles, and you write so well on this subject.
You may get a kick out of this, an AI prompt for an argument for morality without God in the style of G.K. Chesterton:
The Foundation of Morality Without God
It is a strange and thrilling thing to argue for the possibility of morality without God, as if one were advocating for a roof without walls or a symphony played upon silence. Yet it is precisely such a task that we undertake here—not because the existence of God is unimportant, but because the skeptics among us demand to see whether morality can stand even if the divine scaffolding is removed. And I, for one, am inclined to believe that it can—but only because the architecture of humanity itself is sturdy enough to bear the weight.
The Common House of Humanity
Let us begin with something simple and sane, something that even the most quarrelsome relativist cannot deny: human beings are profoundly social creatures. Our very survival depends upon trust, upon the idea that I may entrust my life, my labor, and even my frailties to the hands of another without fear of betrayal. Without trust, there can be no society; without society, no civilization; without civilization, no life worth living.
Thus, the first bricks in the house of morality are laid not by God’s decree but by the very nature of human existence. The protection of the vulnerable, the keeping of promises, the insistence upon justice—these are not abstractions, but necessities. A society that abandons its weakest members, that treats promises as trifles, or that permits might to make right will not long endure. History is littered with the ruins of such societies, and their fall was not a matter of divine wrath but of human consequence.
The Golden Rule and the Bedrock of Trust
Now, a clever skeptic might say, "Ah, but morality is just your opinion!" And this is where I must pause to laugh, for morality is nothing of the sort. The great genius of morality is not that it is my opinion or yours but that it reflects a common instinct—the instinct to see ourselves in others and to act accordingly. Call it the Golden Rule, call it empathy, call it enlightened self-interest if you like, but its truth is evident to anyone with eyes to see.
Take, for example, the matter of fidelity. Why is it wrong to betray one’s partner, even if they never find out? Not because of some celestial decree but because trust, once broken, weakens the bonds that hold people together. A society that normalizes infidelity would not merely harm individual relationships—it would sow suspicion and cynicism throughout the whole fabric of life. And while I may not need a commandment to tell me this, I do need a conscience that whispers, "Would you wish this done to you?" The answer, invariably, is no.
The Pragmatic and the Eternal
But here we come to the crux of the matter: is morality, then, merely pragmatic? Does it serve only to ensure that society does not collapse under the weight of its own selfishness? To this, I must answer both yes and no. Yes, morality is practical; indeed, it is the most practical thing in the world. But no, it is not merely practical, for it is also beautiful, and beauty is never "mere."
Consider the example of protecting the unborn child, who is surely among the most vulnerable of all. Some might argue that the child’s dependence makes it expendable. But this is precisely why the child must be protected: because the measure of a society is not its strength but its willingness to care for those who cannot care for themselves. To abandon the unborn, or the disabled, or the aged, is to deny the very principle that makes morality possible: the recognition of value beyond utility, of dignity beyond power.
The Rebuttal to Relativism
Ah, but the relativist will object: "All this is just human opinion dressed up in fancy rhetoric!" To which I reply: Of course morality is human, for it is humans who need it. But to say that morality is human is not to say that it is arbitrary. The need for trust, the value of empathy, the principle of reciprocity—these are not inventions but discoveries, as real and objective as the laws of gravity or the truths of arithmetic. They are the bedrock upon which any society must be built, whether that society invokes the divine or not.
A Conservative Foundation
In this sense, morality without God has a curious kinship with morally conservative principles. It insists upon the protection of life, the honoring of commitments, and the fostering of a culture that values trust and dignity. It understands that morality is not a series of rules imposed from without but a living tradition arising from within—a tradition that must be preserved, not because it is sacred but because it is true.
The Conclusion of the Matter
And so we return to the beginning. Can morality exist without God? Yes, it can, for it is rooted in the nature of humanity itself. But I will leave you with this paradox, for paradoxes are the soul of truth: while morality may not require God, it requires something very much like Him—a recognition that beyond our fleeting desires lies a deeper order, a shared responsibility, and a truth that binds us together. Whether we call this God or nature or reason, it is the foundation of the moral life, and it stands firm.
And that, I think, is something even the skeptic can believe.
This is excellent. In fact, I like it so much I think I'll make a post out of it (with credit to you, of course.)
It's AI. So no credit to me needed. I look forward to your post about it.
This is my second read-through of your post here. I can relate to the feeling of homelessness, though my personal journey hasn't involved nearly as much anger.
I was raised as a Mormon, and Mormons have a soteriology that's quasi-universalist. Basically, anyone who doesn't get a fair chance to convert to Mormonism while on earth can be saved in the afterlife through baptism for the dead, and even those who fall short of that standard will still, almost all the time, be punished by God only temporarily before being saved in one of the lesser kingdoms of heaven. (They're not reunited with God the Father for all eternity, but they're not tormented, either; even the lower kingdoms are a paradise by earthly standards.) Only a few of the vilest, most intentional sinners - people like Judas Iscariot - will be cast out with the Devil for all eternity.
Mormons also have answers to questions like: "Why has Christ not spoken to the Church in all this time?" Their answer is that he did, through the Prophet Joseph Smith, and that Christians who accept his new message can leave their denominational divisions behind and be reunited under men called by God's own voice to lead them.
Obviously, in real life this just meant adding even more quarrelling denominations to the mix (the Utah-based LDS church is only the largest out of a dozen or so Mormon sects, it turns out Joseph Smith wasn't any better than the authors of the New Testament at providing a clear succession law.)
Now, while I do have a sense of religious homelessness (there are claims the Mormon church makes about its history, and its exclusive authority to speak for God, that I can't believe any more) I've never really had reasons to be angry at God, or at the Mormon church. Mormons are, in general, quite nice and loving people, not at all like the Trad Catholics you've complained about so much here, and their God isn't a tyrant either (hence the quasi-universalism). While I know plenty of ex-Mormons who have become atheists or agnostics, I think this is mainly because being a Mormon makes it very hard to convert to any other branch of Christianity, for the simple reason that most of its criticisms of mainstream Christianity are true. (i.e. if God demands precise obedience to his laws, then why doesn't he send new prophets from time to time to resolve disagreements about said laws? And if the Christian God really does send people to a fiery hell because they never heard about the Gospel, then how is he better than Marduk or Huitzilopochtli after all?)
Personally, I've never found atheism the least bit convincing. I believe that people and other life forms have a Creator. (I'm not an earth-is-6000-years-old guy, but I find the idea of life spontaneously emerging from the primordial sea and growing in complexity from bacteria to humans, all on its own, to be an absurdity of the sort that only a really, really dogmatic person could believe in.) Also, I believe that God or the Gods sometimes answer people's prayers (why some prayers and not others? I have no idea, but why should I? In the big scheme of things, we human beings and our problems are quite small.) And I believe that respect for the Creator requires that one live by Christian ethics, as they have been commonly understood by most Christian cultures throughout history. (So, for instance, a variety of perspectives on the proper use of violence must be considered, but there's no similar complexity when it comes to adultery or bearing false witness.)
What is one to do with such beliefs? Where is one to go to find a spiritual home among like-minded people? I have no idea. And since I'm still single and probably won't marry until I finish my doctorate (3 or 4 years from now) I'm not in too much of a hurry to find a faith community. But I do know that, when I have a wife and children, I'll need one. And so I do have to live with that nagging worry at the back of my mind.
Great comment. This especially resonated: "If God demands precise obedience to his laws, then why doesn't he send new prophets from time to time to resolve disagreements about said laws?"
I don't like atheism, because it lacks explanatory power. I'm just not all sure that if there is a creator, he cares about us or how we relate to him. For many of the reasons you outline here.
But yeah, having kids changes everything. It's one of the hardest parts about being where I am.
Not all religious traditions are as concerned with law, obedience, and punishment as the ones that you and I were raised in.
I wonder if you are at all familiar with the writings of John Michael Greer, the former head of a Druid order. This essay would be a good place to start: https://www.ecosophia.net/blogs-and-essays/the-well-of-galabes/changing-of-the-gods/
Basically, he makes the claim that what is true about the "Prophetic Religions" - which slowly began emerging around the 6th century BC, and which make a big deal about holy books, exclusive authority to act in God's name, a community of believers defined by doctrinal adherence, and the threat of eternal judgment looming over it all - is by no means true about religion in general. They represent only one "religious sensibility" out of many; they came in at a specific time in mankind's development, and they will go out (gradually, not suddenly) when their time has passed - which in Greer's perspective is happening right about now.
In noting the misanthropic spirit of some of the trads you’ve been immersed with, I think you need to ask whether you yourself are entirely free from such faults. Speaking of “cantor Cathy” etc., I guess we’ve all had a laugh over off-key singers, but a Christian who sees God in everyone might try to show a bit more forbearance.
I recently surrendered to my neighbor’s repeated invitations to attend his evangelical church, and noting the general tackiness of stuff like, for example, the symbolic ‘blood of Christ’ passed around event-center style tables in little plastic cups that looked like coffee creamers, it certainly didn’t give the service the same mystical aura achieved in the Catholic tradition, but I felt the presence of God in the people there. People whose love of God and neighbor drove them to come together each week, and make some countercultural sacrifices. They seemed, overall, like a more kind and caring bunch than the random group of individuals you might find at, say, a movie theatre.
I have been reading Charles Taylor’s “A Secular Age” and liked his observation that Christian apologists generally try to win converts via rational arguments to prove God’s existence and the truth of their own particular dogma, whereas converts are more frequently drawn in by the lived examples of Christians who they find admirable.
I am a misanthrope myself. I don't like it. Life has jaded me. I often really enjoy individual people, but have a negative outlook on humanity in general. Probably too many bad experiences.
And I rarely feel that I "see God in" anyone. But then, I don't really see him anywhere.
I'm not proud of this. But if I'm being honest, it's something I really struggle with. Not sure what to do about it.