A Convenient God

 

Humanity and God.  God of love, God of peace, God of war.  We take our pick.

Is there some causal relation, or perhaps a correlation, between substance abuse and religious belief of the showy "Praise God!" and "pray with me!" and salvation- show variety?  I think so.  Those who think themselves saved indulge in a kind of exhibitionism; they enjoy being noticed and watched; even admired, as someone God saved.  They also seem determined to see to it that others are similarly saved or at least pretend to be saved, and are certainly TOLD they should do as the saved do.

Humanity's God, though so often described as loving and merciful, is also often a God of war.  The God described in what's called the Old Testament, for example, exuberantly urges his chosen people to kill the men, women, children and even domesticated animals of those various peoples occupying the Promised Land before them.  He himself obliterates the sinful very dramatically, and in one famous instance even kills nearly the entirety of the human race.

In fairness, it should be noted that other ancient nations or at least their leaders delighted in describing the destruction they caused in war against their enemies and their domestic animals (killing the livestock of enemies seems to have been important then, judging from the frequency with which it's noted).  I've mentioned the lavish detailing of their wars by the Assyrian kings in this blog before.

It's not as easy to find support for or approval of war in what's called the New Testament as it is in the Old Testament, but no matter.  Christians have waged war since Christianity began.  In fact, they've waged war against each other far more than they've waged it against non-Christians.

We've been engaged in war throughout our history.  It's something we do.  We can't claim that we're less warlike than we were in the past.  There always seems to be some war going on somewhere, as there is now.

So, naturally enough, and quite conveniently, our God is almost always a God of war.  Sometimes, God is considered the reason why wars take place.  Wars have many causes, but religion is so often one of them if not the primary cause of them, and God so frequently evoked by wars' participants (though the God of the warring parties may differ) that it may fairly be said humanity's God is a God of war, when we want God to be a God of war.

And that's what we have wanted, and som want now.  

The claim is regularly made that belief in God is needed for us to be moral; indeed for morality to exist.  If that's the case, though, it appears that causing death and destruction through war is moral, i.e. that we should wage war. It's difficult to think of any war in which religion wasn't involved or in which God wasn't invoked by those at war as justifying it or as favoring the victory of one side or another.

Thoughts On The Rough Beast

 

It seems each day brings with it some new freakish incident, threat or claim in these sad times.  I doubt even Suetonius, who wrote of the peculiarities of the Julio-Claudian emperors, could imagine some of the grotesqueries being perpetrated and paraded in front of us by our ubiquitous media.  Whether it's merely ridiculous, like requiring public servants to wear outsized shoes, or actively fostering fear and chaos, those in power seem to be determined either to commit outrages or slavishly support them.

W. B. Yeats believed that the First World War overturned our civilization and deprived us of the traditions and morals on which it was founded, presaging an apocalypse of some kind or another.  So, he wondered what Rough Beast would be born of it.  The 20th century was full of beasts, and so Yeats was right to expect them.  But no Second Coming was forthcoming, as was the case with the many Second Comings which have been predicted by the self-righteous over the centuries.

Could Yeats have imagined a Rough Beast that was destructive of civilized values but merely vulgar, rude, scatterbrained, blustering, ignorant, self-centered as a spoiled child, albeit cunning in a shabby way?  I doubt it.  Yeats was a great poet and evoked beauty and described evil, but in a superlative sense.  I'm not sure he would have believed an apocalypse might be caused by crude, malicious but otherwise unremarkable people put in charge of forces capable of wrecking havoc on the world.

We had to wait for someone like Orwell to tell us that the beasts to be feared most are those who are not great in any sense, are unworthy, even contemptible, but are raised by the corruption of our society to the highest places and are tolerated and even encouraged by those who are part of the corruption.

It's difficult to think, like Yeats, that the current Rough Beasts have beliefs contrary to those which form the bases of Western civilization.  In fact they value what has always been of the greatest importance in the West; money and its relentless acquisition.  Money, of course, is power, which has also been desired.  And they also rely on hypocrisy and purported adherence to so-called Judeo-Christian morals, at least in public, another characteristic of our civilization. 

The Rough Beast no longer slouches towards Bethlehem, but marches against it, and lays siege to it. 

The Frantic Quest For Significance

 

I think that it must be maddening to some people to realize that they are tiny creatures living among billions of other tiny creatures on a tiny planet in a tiny solar system among billions of other solar systems in a galaxy among billions of other galaxies in the vastness of the universe which, for all we know, is one of many other universes.

This is unquestionably the case, however.  And because of this, it's difficult to believe that any of us is of any significance in what's called "the grand scheme of things."  In fact, it's absurd for any of us to feel anything but insignificant.

This creates problems for those of us who feel we're important or special in any sense.  From this perspective, self-love and self-regard become laughable.  The self-important become objects of ridicule.  Those who admire others because they think them important are even more pathetic.

There are different ways a person may react to the realization that we're remarkably small participants in the universe. Some might despair, unable to accept the reality of what Warren Zevon called "the vast indifference of heaven."  Some may disregard it, and believe that they're the chosen of a god who created an enormous cosmos all for the sake of miniature beings on a miniscule planet, the equivalent of a grain of sand in an endless desert.

Some may revere the universe and accept their place in it, something that's plainly beyond their control, and strive to be a Stoic Sage. 

And some might be so angered by the thought of their insignificance, and so convinced of their importance that they use what power they have to demonstrate their greatness and grandeur.  They seek some way to prove it, to themselves more than others. This means they destroy the world and make their mark on it, usually through violence, the accumulation of wealth and building showy, grandiose monuments that others cannot help but see.  

They're the maniacs,  narcissists, gluttons and hoarders that plague us, hoping that somehow their short lives will be remembered if not extended due to their fame. They see devastation as the path to immortality.

The ancient Assyrian kings are good examples of this kind of mania.  They had their scribes write of their prowess in conquering cities and killing all their inhabitants in gruesome detail, so they wouldn't be forgotten.  

Is it possible we're seeing this mad quest for significance playing out now?

Vanitas vanitatum et omnia vanitas. Certain Biblical phrases are apt descriptions of the human condition and are impressive, especially when expressed in Latin.

The Pernicious Doctrine Of Repentance

I've wondered from time to time whether and to what extent the success of Christianity can be attributed to the doctrine of repentance--that is, the fact that it provides that sins may be forgiven.  I don't know of any religion or cult prevalent at the time Christianity began to spread which made a similar, equivalent claim in describing its benefits.

The popular mystery cults which existed at the time promised salvation, but not because you could, through them, obtain God's or the gods' forgiveness for the wrongs you committed if you became a convert and asked to be absolved.  Instead, salvation was forthcoming if you were properly initiated into the mysteries of the god and obtained thereby the knowledge required to be united with the deity.

Of course, merely asking for absolution isn't sufficient in itself to assure a sinner is forgiven.  The sinner must be sincerely sorry for the sins committed. The sinner must feel genuine remorse. 

In addition, the sinner must turn away from the way of sin and towards God.  Some Christian sects actually require proof of the sinner's change of heart in the form of good deeds and by doing what's required by scripture.

Thus is forgiveness attained, and responsibility and punishment avoided. Years of misdeeds are forgotten, and are no longer of any account.

This strikes me as unjust. I think that in most if not all cases someone who fears punishment, particularly eternal punishment, and believes it forthcoming for one reason or another, will certainly sincerely regret that he/she/they murdered, cheated, stole, etc. and genuinely wish the various wrongs committed had never taken place.  There's little possibility that someone believing in and facing Hell will simply pretend to remorse, thinking God will be fooled by a display of sadness.

It's also likely that a sinner facing damnation

will eagerly do all that can be done to establish his/her/their faith and demonstrate a desire to do good in whatever future remains.  There's nothing special or significant about believing Christians sincerely regretting their sins in such circumstances. It's almost certain, therefore, that all will be absolved.

 

It's an attractive prospect for sinners.

My point is that granting forgiveness for past sins or wrongs merely because it's requested minimizes the responsibility of the sinners and wrongdoers, and the significance of the misdeeds themselves, no matter how sincere the request may be,  Nor should forgiveness be granted merely because those that did wrong want to do good in the future, for the same reason.

The doctrine of repentance therefore gives those who do wrong to others, harm others, or are cruel and unjust, the hope if not the assurance that all will be forgiven as long as they appropriately seek forgiveness sometime in the future.  You may be as bad as you like now, as long as you become good.

Augustine wrote that he asked God to help him be pure, "but not yet."  The doctrine of repentance in effect allows that we should be good, but need not be good "yet."  If we're good eventually, we may be evil now.

"What Power Has Law Where Only Money Rules?"

 

I've mentioned Gaius Petronius Arbiter a/k/a Titus Petronius Niger, author of The Satyricon, Suffect Counsel of Rome, courtier of Nero, on more than one occasion in this blog.  He's mentioned by Tacitus and others, so there's credible evidence he existed.  He appears as a character in the novel Quo Vadis, which formed the basis for a movie of the same name.

He was known as the "arbiter of elegance" in Nero's court and a voluptuary, but also was competent and vigorous in performing his public duties.  He eventually fell afoul of the Emperor, like Seneca, and took his own life in a most remarkable way, slowly bleeding to death by opening his veins but stopping the flow of blood using tourniquets to prolong his life while enjoying conversation and banter with friends and writing a description of Nero's misdeeds which he sealed and had delivered to the Emperor after his death.

I qoute him in the title of this post.  It's a perceptive statement by a fascinating man intimately familiar with the rich and powerful oligarchs of a great empire ruled by a meglomaniac.

The ancient Romans had a high regard for law.  They generated a vast amount of written law through the centuries.  Much of current European law derives from that of Rome.  A knowledge of law was considered essential to a successful career, and many prominent citizens acted as advocates (such as Cicero).

The Roman respect for law wasn't limited to written laws.  Romans also revered the mos maiorum, the unwritten code of the customs and traditions they considered peculiarly Roman, such as duty, respect and discipline, which governed the conduct of their ancestors.

When Petronius wondered whether the law had any power where money ruled (implying that it did not), he was therefore maintaining that money had profoundly corrupted and undermined Roman society; had in fact perverted it.  The power of money had changed what it meant to be Roman.

It's become a cliche that the United States is failing and falling as the Roman Empire did and for similar reasons. Like all clichés, it's too simple, but there are similarities.  The U.S. was founded in large part by lawyers.  The Constitution is a legal document--essentially a set of laws.  The rule of law was essential to its creation and forms the basis for its continuance.

It's rapidly devolving, however, because plutocrats have usurped the administration of the government and have no respect for the law to the extent that it serves to thwart their power and influence and the realization of their desires.

The Supreme Court has assured that the nation's government can be bought by sanctioning its purchase as a Constitutional right, and narrowing the definition of bribery, in effect holding that politicians may be paid in return for their services except in rare circumstances.

So we may well ask Petronius' question now, 2000 years after he posed it, and come to the same conclusion he did.