The Loss of Transcendence: On the Sadness of Shrinking One’s Worldview

The importance of expanding one’s worldview was the subject of my July 30 blog post. I’m sure most of my blog readers have done, and continue to do, that. But I’m afraid that many people, but probably only a very few of my Thinking Friends, have moved in the opposite direction—and I think that’s sad. 

In recent decades, there has been a marked increase in secularism, which usually means a denial or rejection of transcendence. 

Please note that, as I have done previously, I make an important distinction between secularization and secularism. As I wrote in a February 2020 blog post, secularism as an ideology “is confined to ‘temporal’ or ‘this-worldly’ things, with emphasis on nature, reason, and science.”

Secularism usually rejects transcendence, the affirmation of reality “beyond” that which can be analyzed by science. As I  wrote in 2/20, “When secularism is truly an ism, it is a worldview that has no room for God, by whatever name God might be understood… .”

Such a denial of transcendence necessarily involves a markedly shrinking or flattening of one’s worldview. The postmodern mindset basically embraces subjectivism and rejects the notion of there being objective realities such as God, Truth, or Good. The result is often moral relativism and narcissism. 

As eminent Canadian philosopher Charles Taylor explains, subjectivism (and/or individualism) can lead, and has led, to “a centering on the self, which both flattens and narrows our lives, makes them poorer in meaning, and less concerned with others or society.”** 

Much recent secularism in the U.S. is a reaction to the “Religious Right.” There is much in conservative evangelical belief and practice that needs to be rejected, or deconstructed, to use a term that is popular in some circles.

There is even a Wikipedia article on “faith deconstruction,” describing it as “a phenomenon within American evangelicalism in which Christians rethink their faith and jettison previously held beliefs, sometimes to the point of no longer identifying as Christians.”

There is what can be called positive deconstruction, which means questioning the faith one has grown up in and growing into the reconstruction of a more mature, viable faith. That is what I was suggesting in my July 30 blog post. 

But there is also negative deconstruction as noted in the Wikipedia article. That doesn’t always lead to complete secularism, as there are, indeed, some who actively seek to be spiritual but not religious. But for many, deconstruction is accompanied by a loss of transcendence.

It is sad when people jettison religious faith and accept a narrower, shallower worldview. It is sad because so much is lost. The old cliché, throwing out the baby with the bathwater, seems an apt description of what is lost. 

How very sad if in disposing of the dirty, unneeded bathwater (the out-of-date, untenable beliefs) the precious baby (the belief in God/Transcendence) is also discarded!

Many who have lost their religious faith, or never had such a faith to begin with, are not “bad” people. Many secularists are kind, loving people, showing concern for others and for the environment, working for peace and justice—at least for a while. 

Without an ongoing, sustaining sense of the Transcendent, however, people often “burn out,” become cynical and/or depressed, lose the joy of living, and seek to escape the meaningless of life by excessive emphasis on hedonistic pleasures or by over-use of drugs, including especially alcohol.

In the early years of this blog, one of my Thinking Friends was a thoughtful man who convened a discussion group mainly of atheists and agnostics. He was concerned about social issues.

This friend was a vegetarian because, he said, he realized that the grain used to fatten animals for slaughter and human consumption could and should be used to feed people in the world who didn’t have enough to eat. I quit eating beef and pork partly because of his influence. 

Several years ago, though, this friend seemingly “burnt out” and dropped out, and I ceased hearing from him. Then a mutual friend told me that he had drunk himself to death. I was greatly saddened when I heard that. 

One can’t prove anything by an anecdote, but I think my atheist friend’s story is not uncommon. It is sad, indeed, when one doesn’t have or loses a sense of Transcendence. 

_____

**The Ethics of Authenticity (1991), p. 4. Taylor (b. 1931) is best known for his massive, 874-page book, A Secular Age (2007). I regret that I have never taken the time and expended the energy to read the latter book carefully. In keeping with the subject of this article, though, I did read (although too hastily) the eighth chapter, “The Malaises of Modernity,” in which Taylor describes the “three forms which the malaise of immanence may take: (1) the sense of the fragility of meaning, the search for an over-arching significance; (2) the felt flatness of our attempts to solemnize the crucial moments of passage in our lives; and (3) the utter flatness, emptiness of the ordinary” (p. 309). 

Understanding One Thing is to Understand Everything

Although not always expressed the same way, here is an idea I heard reference to from time to time through the years I lived in Japan:

The Zen Perspective

The words above are attributed to Suzuki Shunryu, a Zen monk and teacher who helped popularize Zen Buddhism in the United States. In 1962 Suzuki (1904~71) founded the San Francisco Zen Center, which was the first Zen monastery outside Asia.

Suzuki was also the author of Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind, and last year the 50^th anniversary edition of that book was published.

Fifty years ago when I first heard the idea encapsulated in Suzuki’s words, I didn’t know they were rooted in a Zen concept. But perhaps that helps explain the use made of koans in Zen. To understand one thing, such as a koan, leads to satori (enlightenment), that is, understanding everything.

Granted, there are lingering problems here; still, it is an interesting perspective.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s Perspective

I have long liked, and often quoted, the widely known words of poet Elizabeth Barrett Browning:  

Seeing depth, or transcendence, in the ordinary is what Barrett Browning was emphasizing, and that is likely true for Suzuki also. The problem, and shame, is that there are so many who are content to just pluck blackberries, never seeing more than the obvious.

In this connection, I recently happened to read this important statement by Henri Nouwen: “. . . the whole of nature is a sacrament pointing to a reality far beyond itself” (Seeds of Hope, 1989, p. 100). Unfortunately, so many people don’t see the sacramental nature of the universe.

When we don’t fully see/understand “one thing,” we are unable to see/understand “everything.”

Gifty’s Perspective

Originally, I planned to write this whole blog article about Gifty, the precocious central character of Yaa Gyasi’s fascinating novel Transcendent Kingdom (2020). Gifty, like the author, was born to Ghanaian parents and grew up in Huntsville, Alabama.

But unlike author Gyasi (b. 1989), who has an MFA degree, Gifty is a sixth-year Ph.D. candidate in neuroscience at the Stanford University School of Medicine studying reward-seeking behavior in mice and the neural circuits of depression and addiction.

In her experiments on the brains of mice, Gifty realized that in the case of humans, at least, there is something more to human consciousness than just the physical brain.

For example, Gifty asks, “ . . . if the brain can’t account for things like reason and emotion, then what can? If the brain makes it possible for ‘us’ to feel and think then what is ‘us’?” (p. 197).

At the very end of the novel, Gifty says, “I’ve seen enough in a mouse to understand transcendence, holiness, redemption.”

Gifty likely didn’t know anything about Barrett Browning’s poems nor much, if anything, about Zen. But she seemed to intuit that to understand one thing is to understand everything.

What about us, now?

The Domestication of God

The sixth chapter of my book The Limits of Liberalism, which I am currently revising, slightly, and updating for re-publication at the end of this year, is titled “Limits of Liberal Views of God.” This blog post is based on parts of that chapter. 

Is God’s Transcendence a Problem?

Among theological liberals, there has been rather strongly stated opposition to what some label as “supernatural theism.” For example, the noted British scholar Karen Armstrong has publicly rejected what she calls “the God of supernatural theism.”

This opposition is, in other words, a rejection of the transcendence of God, the idea/belief that God is “above” and “beyond” the natural world that we humans can know by science.

Since there is a tendency to think that all knowledge of the physical world (nature) can be obtained by modern scientific means, whatever is considered not a part of nature is, therefore, supernatural.

Consequently, belief in a “supernatural” Creator of heaven and earth, the concept of God who is somehow not completely an integral part of the natural world, is rejected.

For modern people, for whom liberal thinkers seek to speak, the transcendence or “otherness” of God—or the “infinite qualitative distinction” between God and human beings that Kierkegaard emphasized—is seen as a problem to be overcome by a newer, more enlightened, view of God.

Is God’s “Domestication” the Answer?

Over the last seventy years especially, many liberal theologians and philosophers have rejected the concept of God’s transcendence by emphasizing the complete immanence of God.

William C. Placher was a leading postliberal theologian in the United States. Back in 1996, he published a book titled The Domestication of Transcendence: How Modern Thinking about God Went Wrong.

In his book, Placher (1948~2008) contended that the shift from a transcendental theism to an immanental pantheism led to what he calls (and titles his fifth chapter) “the domestication of God”—a pregnant phrase that indicates a significant aspect of the limits of liberal thinking about God.

That is part of the reason that Scottish philosopher Alasdair MacIntyre quipped in 1966, “Theists are offering atheists less and less in which to disbelieve.”

What about Experience of God?

In the fall of 1957, I began my final two years of college as a transfer student at William Jewell College in Liberty, Missouri. One of my courses that fall was Philosophy of Religion.

Professor Murray Hunt chose Philosophy of Religion as our textbook. It was authored by the Quaker scholar D. Elton Trueblood, Professor of Philosophy at Earlham College, and published earlier that year.

Because of that course and Trueblood’s book, the philosophy of religion became my main academic interest, and it remained so for decades.

Part II, the heart of Trueblood’s book, is titled “Theistic Realism,” which, although he doesn’t use those words, is a rebuttal/rejection of the movement toward the domestication of God.

Trueblood begins “The Theistic Hypothesis,” the first chapter of Part II, with these words: “God, when carefully defined, either is or is not.” He then goes on to explain,

To say that God “is” means to give assent to the proposition that the idea of God is not merely an idea in the minds of men, but actually refers to what is objectively the case—something which was before we came to be aware of it and which now is, independent of our awareness or lack of awareness (p. 79).

Those who have sought to domesticate God have often spoken of the “God within” human beings. Thus, God is understood as a subjective experience of individual persons. This stands in contrast to the theistic realism Trueblood expounds, and his position, I believe, is far more coherent.

The last chapter of Part II is “The Evidence of Religious Experience.” I was studying philosophy of religion because I was preparing to become a Christian pastor—and I was preparing for that vocation (literally) because of what I firmly believed, and still believe, was a definite “call” by God.

My experience was not highly ecstatic or “otherworldly.” It was much more like the “still small voice” that the prophet Elijah heard (according to 1 Kings 19:12, KJV). But it was unquestionably real.

Those who wish to domesticate God would explain my, and Elijah’s, experience as only a subjective one. But I am convinced that making everything related to God subjective, or immanent, is one of the debilitating limits of liberalism.

Interpreting the Resurrection of Jesus

Even though today is Good Friday, this article is about the Easter story and how Jesus’ resurrection can be affirmed by contemporary people.

A Novel Interpretation

The writing of this article was spurred by my reading of a novel: Martin Gardner’s The Flight of Peter Fromm (1973, 1994). After finishing it in 2012, I wrote this in my “books read” record: “One of the most challenging theological novels I ever read. A book of great profundity and erudition.”

Last month I finished reading Gardner’s book for the second time—and I was impressed and disturbed by it again.

If you haven’t read the novel, I don’t necessarily recommend it. Why? Because debunking the resurrection of Jesus is one of the main themes of the book.

At the beginning of the novel, Peter Fromm is a precocious, fundamentalist, Pentecostal Christian boy from Oklahoma who chooses to go to the University of Chicago Divinity School. There he is “slowly but surely” led by Homer Wilson, his mentor who is a part-time professor and a Unitarian minister, to question and then to reject many of his Christian beliefs, including the reality of Jesus’ resurrection.

On Easter Sunday, shortly before he is scheduled to receive his doctor’s degree, to marry, and to be ordained and assume a full-time church position, Peter preaches at his mentor’s church—and has a dramatic psychological breakdown.

Questionable Interpretations

In spite of being a minister and seminary professor, early in the book Wilson acknowledges, “I do not consider myself a Christian except in the widest, most humanistic sense. I do not, for example, believe in God.”

Homer Wilson spends considerable time discussing theological ideas with Peter, who gradually begins to discard belief in the reality of the resurrection—along with ideas about the transcendence of God. So Peter comes largely to adopt what Wilson calls “secular humanism.”

Wilson tells Peter that one who preaches to modern people has “to choose between being a truthful traitor or a loyal liar.” In order to serve in a paid church position, he believes, it is necessary to choose the latter: that seems clearly to have been Homer’s choice, and Peter also apparently comes to accept that position. The duplicity of that choice, however, leads to Peter’s breakdown.

Much of the problem in accepting the reality of the Easter story centers on the interpretation of Jesus’ resurrection as being the resuscitation of his physical body. Peter assumes that that is the view of resurrection found in the New Testament.

Of course, Peter also considers, and rejects, Jesus’ resurrection as simply the spirit or idea of Jesus being “resurrected” in the minds of his disciples.

Recommended Interpretation

My interpretation of, and belief in, the resurrection is based on firm belief in the reality of God and in transcendence. Thus, my affirmation of the reality of Easter is grounded in a worldview quite different from that of secular humanism.

If one believes, as Homer Wilson and then Peter Fromm did, that the physical world, which can be fully examined by science, is the totality of reality, then resurrection cannot be affirmed in any historical sense.

My views are in general agreement with those of the eminent New Testament scholar N.T. Wright as summarily presented in his book Surprised by Hope (2008), which I highly recommend.

For me, and for Wright, Jesus’ resurrection can be, and must be, understood as something other than literal resuscitation and certainly as something other than a metaphorical, completely non-historical story.

Firm belief in God and transcendence, however, makes affirmation of Jesus’ resurrection possible, understandable, and a matter of great joy and hope.

Happy Easter!