God, the afterlife and meaning

After watching a recent documentary on Mormonism, I came to the startling conclusion that an agnostic belief system that doesn’t hold to the stereotypical concept of “faith” is quite compatible with most religious beliefs.

In fact, it can exist within their framework - provided the religious framework doesn’t rely entirely on a fundamentalist basis in ritualism. There’s even some scope for ritualism - bear with me. I can even prove the existence of God to the satisfaction of the most hardened atheist.

Before I can explain how these systems fit neatly together, an explanation of this spiritual agnosticism is in order.

Most theological discussions revolve around three issues - God, the afterlife and meaning.

The agnostic belief set essentially realises that attempting to prove the existence of God, or stating certainty one way or the other is just folly. Nobody knows and people who tell you they do are relying on the concept of “faith”.

Faith is an interesting term. It has pleasant connotations of hope and a reassurance that things will always turn out for the best, however, there are uglier aspects too.

It can be used to short circuit logic and justify self-imposed ignorance. When an impossible quandary is thrown up in religion, the answer is just to “have faith”. Regrettably, this is no answer at all and sounds more like a justification. “Why would a God give me the power to reason, then ask that on the biggest issues, I discard it?”

The answer? “God knows. Have faith.”

If the same logic was presented to you by a used car salesman flogging a car with no warranty you’d quite rightly reject it, so I don’t see why we should settle for that with a creator.

That being said, there is a way we can prove the existence of God.

We just need a new definition. If God is redefined into something we know exists, its existence can’t be disputed.

The real issue here lies with the concept of God as an intelligence. The debate is not whether we have a creator - clearly, we exist, therefore we were created somehow, be it evolution or otherwise. No - the issue is about an intelligent God.

Is there some metaphysical being watching over us?

Herein lies the key.

A creator who made the earth in seven days seems like a rather simple concept - something a primitive story teller would dream up to explain complex stories of creation. The whole saga of the Garden of Eden, sin and the origin of man, as told in the Bible, seems more like a fable than any kind of historical account or real explanation of creation. My suspicion is that most Christians don’t hold to this story literally. (Note the “most”.)

On the other hand, if we look around us, we see a constant interplay of entropy and enthalpy. Whether it’s the process of photosynthesis taking place in the veins of a leaf, or a cab driver taking you to an airport, there is a constant chemical interplay of time and energy. The petrol in the taxi’s fuel tank is not inert, it combusts when introduced to a spark.

The sandwich that cab driver ate isn’t inert either. As he drives you to the airport, his stomach is digesting that sandwich, removing nutrients and taking them as power for his body.

And it’s not just on Earth. Every moment, powerful winds and strong gases are moving, exploding and being lit up with lightning on the moons of Saturn. Everywhere there is energy. It may be in the form of life with neurons firing in the brain. It may be in the warm recesses of a deep sea volcanic vent.

I put it to you, that this is God. The fact that we live in a universe blessed with the passage of time and energy is more awe inspiring than any bearded man sitting in a cloud watching over us.

But this concept has no intelligence. But what is intelligence really? Can the Christian God claim intelligence?

I’ve always thought of intelligence as a combined process of receiving information, making decisions and reacting, with the level of intelligence being defined by how complex those decisions are.

I don’t think this concept can be applied to the Christian God at all. If it’s omnipotent, it is therefore omniscient. If it can see all and knows all, then logically, it can’t receive information it already has. Unless you believe God is as ignorant of the future as the rest of us, then you can’t define God as a decision-making intelligence.

If God doesn’t know the future, then it can’t be the architect of a grand plan - at least, not one without risk of failure. I’ve heard no words indicating God could fail or be ignorant of our destiny.

If God has indeed set some ball in motion regarding our future that it has already foreseen, then it isn’t really much of a process we’re participating in at all - being all-knowing is the same as knowing nothing. It’s all relative.

Of course, I suppose this could all be ignored with that ever present circuit breaker - faith. But bear with me a little further.

If the Christian God can’t be an intelligence as we understand it, is it so very different to the all pervasive interplay of time and energy I spoke of earlier? Is God not everywhere, all knowing?

Is it really such a leap to simply define God as this process for which we do not need “faith,” because we can see it all around us?

It’s quite simple. Christians say God is great, beyond our understanding. Fair enough. Then if it it’s not an intelligence we can understand, perhaps it isn’t an intelligence we could even recognise.

When people say God created the world, I ask, what created God? They say God always existed. Well, this explanation dovetails neatly with everything, and it doesn’t reek of the childlike “God decided to build a planet and make people” explanation.

So it would appear my God and the Christian God aren’t as different as you might think - but I’m an agnostic.

As for the afterlife and meaning, both of these are catered for - some people feel the need to know they will live on as they are right now.

I’ve seen no evidence of that in nature. When we die, we are returned to this all encompassing energy. Or, to put it another way, we become one with God again.

The matter that forms me and the spark between neurons in my brain that makes my consciousness, will both be recycled. I may become the warmth in that volcanic vent, but then again, with an eternity of possibilities, it’s likely my neurons will one day be a part of another intelligence. Perhaps my spark will be the one that fires as someone proposed to their beloved. Maybe I’ll just be steam vapour on a dead world.

Either way, I will exist in some form. Some people need to cling to their current existence, but this belief offers proof of eternal existence if you’re willing to accept some change. Or if you’re unwilling.

This God may not care about your prayers, but it keeps existence running, even if it makes no guarantees about life as we know it.

Frankly, I find this promise of eternal existence in new and exciting forms is just as comforting as any “heaven” which again, just feels like more of a simpleton’s promise of reward. “The bestest thing ever.”

Well, while they’re stuck in one form of existence, I may find out what it’s like to be part a bolt of lightning above Tanzania. Or a breath of wind in a sail.

As for the “meaning of life” I find it perplexing that so many people appear to find this difficult. The meaning of life is what makes you content. Some may think this leads to a life of hedonism, but it’s been my experience that the purest forms of happiness come in reflected form from helping others. Thus, for most, a successful pursuit of contentment comes from kindness. My suspicion is that those who pursue selfish ends tend to fail when evaluating the meaning in their lives.

OK - that’s the agnostic spirituality downpat - now on to where it fits with other religions.

As I watched this Mormon documentary, it occurred to me that the family community they spoke of was quite a beautiful thing. There was support extended through their church network and there was always a smiling face at hand.

My thought was “it’s a shame there’s so much ritualistic nonsense needed to accomplish this”.

Then I stopped for a moment - these people appeared genuinely happy. Who was I to judge how they had achieved these ends?

I wondered - could I become a Mormon if I wanted that lifestyle?

The answer, initially, was no. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t embrace the ritualistic beliefs, even if I could embrace the family environment.

But on the other hand I came to the conclusion that this ritual system was creating a community based around a family concept that appeared warm and inviting - it was this ritualism that made it possible. When I coupled that with the realisation that I believed in a God and if I were to accept the necessity of these rituals - not as an explanation of existence, but a necessity in maintaining such a tightly knit community, then perhaps I wasn’t far off.

I wondered whether it would be worth bludgeoning my brain into accepting “faith” in the literalism of biblical texts. I came to the conclusion that I shouldn’t have to, but it gave me a more charitable belief in faith - I no longer see it solely as a self-imposed ignorance, but I do think its benefits can be had without discarding reason.

Not bad, I thought, for someone who can’t embrace the idea of a creator God. I’m not about to run off and become a Mormon, though if as an agnostic, I was able to see such commonalities and reasonableness in such a ritualistic faith, perhaps there’s not as much separating our beliefs as we think, save for the fundamentalist attitudes that tend to be more of a mark of people than a religion.