Sunday, March 29, 2009

So Where is God?

Where is God? Here's a great quote I found by the Pope Benedict XVI, taken from 'Introduction to Christianity', p123:

"[Our God] is not the god of a place, but the God of men: The God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. He is therefore not bound to one spot but is present and powerful wherever man is. God is seen on the plane of I and You, not on the plane of the spatial. He.. thus shows himself to be he who is always near, whose power is boundless. He is not anywhere in particular; he is to be found at any place where man is and where man lets himself be found by him."

God is within us, as the Holy Spirit is Love and the Son is the receiver of Love, the purified and perfected creation, and the Father is the most perfect giver of love. The Holy Trinity is the very life of love itself. If we want to know God then we must look for love, something we can only truly know if we experience it, if we live it.

Yes we can know God by knowing Jesus' history, by seeing what he did, how he sacrificed himself - but to truly grasp his very being is only possible if we experience what he actually was, if we experience love. This is the only way we will identify with the ground of being, with the very essence of God: it is in the simplicity of the love act that we find eternal life. God reaches out from himself as the Son and touches us deep inside, but we only truly receive God as the Holy Spirit, as love. And so it is in our blessed heart that we should look for him.

So, where is God? As Saint Augustine so rightly said: God is indeed closer to us than our own thoughts.

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Dawkins, Atheism and Personalism

There is certainly an air of atheism about the past few years. Richard Dawkins has started a religion of people who refuse to see the forest for the trees. It seems easy for some of us to agree with Dawkins that "I see no need for God", "God doesn't know me", "I haven't seen any evidence for a god", yet what nobody wants to first deal with is the even more important question of who this 'I' actually is. Christianity is not about providing an answer to those questions. And the problem is confounded by the fact that there are Christians who *are* trying to answer those very questions. Those questions cannot be answered adequately, not in a way that satisfies everyone.

The answer that Christianity provides is to the question 'Who, in actual fact, am I?'. The answer it provides is 'This is who you can be.' - it is the true meaning of *conversion*. Christian conversion is a conversion in identity, to a person who *can* offer rational answers to those questions. It is an experience that leads to a personal conversion. It is akin to the questions of identity that we are faced with when we fall in love, or when we lose a loved one, when we join a community or are with friends, at a sports game or a national event. I think we must first dig deeply into the questions of our identity before we can ask any fundamental questions that contain that word 'I' or 'me'.

The very question of who God is can only be answered *after* such a conversion, in which we come face to face with a being far greater than the 'I' to which I thought I was so well accustomed. Dawkins represents the very worst of this superficial 'I'. But of course there is always hope, there is always room for a new experience to change the hearts of men. Lets hope that experience can be articulated in the entertaining manner in which Professor Dawkins writes.

Thursday, January 31, 2008

My Journey into Personalism

Saint Augustine once famously said "God is closer to us than our own thoughts". This made me think: what exactly could be closer to us than our own thoughts? After we hear statements from the likes of Descartes that "I think therefore I am" - doesn't this imply that the God of Augustine is even prior to what Descartes considered his very own being?

The concept of God had always been something I had considered to be far away, distant. I thought of it as echoes of an event (the Bible) that occurred and was written, leaving mankind in a state of eternal deliberation on the meaning and, from the remaining evidence of that event in which God somehow touched humanity, what God might actually be like. It seemed wild speculation at best, and wishful thinking at worst.

What it certainly did not seem like was a close God.

I, however, at the time considered myself a humanist. God simply got in the way of a philosophy that had humanity at the center.

The problem, it seemed, was that I was considering Holy Scripture to be a scientific log, a journal of events that were described in an objective fashion. Of course I never considered it to be much of a successful journal, because it was so vague and contained so much subjectivity. The truth of history seemed to be lost in what I considered to be the simple-minded and lack of scientific rigor of the commentators. A truth of history is what I was looking for, but could not find such a truth in the Bible. And, as if I saw this truth supporting Christianity like a stack of cards, the rest of the religion seemed flawed as a result.

But my mind was not satisfied. I fundamentally trusted people, to some degree. I kept asking myself: what exactly do so many billions of Christians find in their religion? Is it really just wishful thinking? Is it just a placebo that somehow makes them feel at peace, to keep their mind at ease about their mortality or ultimate lack of worth of life so they can continue working in ignorance?

I had always marveled at writers such as Ron Rolheiser, who is able to talk about people's emotions and experiences at such an unusually empathic and profound level. He connects with people at a very deep level, yet he was incredibly devout, as a priest and counsellor. Regardless of whether I was interested in Catholicism at the time, I would read his weekly articles purely out of that spiritual need to witness the insights he had into the human condition. I would ask myself: What is it in his religion that gave him these insights?

He would often mention a controversial Catholic theologian known as Karl Rahner. I studied him for a while, even though he is very difficult to read I would soon get a fundamental message from his writings: Catholic theology is pretty rich stuff. More to the point, his speculative theology taught me something very surprising to me at the time, and that is that Catholic theology is far more open to new ways of considering their religion than I ever expected. Karl Rahner was talking about concepts that I only ever came across in philosophy or perhaps in Buddhism. Yet this man was considered such an influnce in the second Vatican Council, which could basically be considerd a fundental stage in the development of Catholic doctrine.

I then found other influential theologians such as Henri de Lubac and Teilhard de Chardin. I read their works and discovered a whole new dimension to Catholicism that seemed to me to be something more akin to Humanism taken to an extreme. In fact it appeared that so many of the theologians around the time of Vatican II (the 1960s) were considering Christianity from a very humanist perspective.

I have a theory why this was the case, why it was that in the 60s Catholicism suddenly 'found the person'. I think it was a reaction to World War II. We often have to be faced with extreme loss to find a true conversion. I recall this is what happened to St. Paul on the road to Demascus: Jesus appeared to him and asked 'why are you persecuting me?' - and all of a sudden the weight of all Christian deaths and the death of Christ himself was placed in Saint Paul's shoulders. Such an experience is enough to change a man, and change him it did - from Saul to Paul, fom a persecutor to the first and probably greatest theologian in Christian history. The experience of St. Paul marked an opening of Christianity to a far deeper and more spiritual level, and the devestation and human loss of World War II that then led to Vatican II marked an even deeper opening of Christianity into the very core of man.

It didn't take me long to find my way, and to some degree settle on, a very articulate and influential theologian: Cardinal Ratzinger. This man was central in Vatican II, and the fact that he then became Pope aroused my interest even further. I now probably have 30 of his books. I have no idea how he finds the time to write so much.

For someone who has a reputation of being so conservative, I was shocked at just how much sense his theology makes. He seems to have it all worked out. He has some basic formula of the Christian faith rich in existential and personalist influence and from his builds an incredibly sound framework of theology, and because of its solid structure it's just a joy to read.

I have also read other important personalist theologys and philosophers: Martin Buber, Gabriel Marcel, Emmanuel Mounier, Max Sheler, Paul Tillich to name just a few. Yet I marvel at how Pope Benedict constantly draws from these sources himself, and compiles such an integral theology out of all the best of their insights.

These new theologians proved to me that fundamentally Christianity was (or at least can be) about humanism. It is actually humanism and then a whole lot more on top, what Pope Benedict has called 'a most radical humanism' - it is certainly not something opposed to humanism.

What keeps me hooked is the simple fact that there exists an incredibly rich Catholic theology that is based on existential insight into what matters to mankind. It is timely and contemporary, has practical applications in every day life. But most importantly, it is rational to the core. It speaks to something far deeper than simple abstract formula can - it talks directly at what makes me human. This, to me, is personalism.

In this blog I will try to share my findings on personalist theology with you so they may be found via google searches or otherwise. I will quote from the books that I read and share my insights with you. I welcome any comments you may wish to make at any time.