Thursday, July 6, 2017

Mere Depression, Lewis the Agnostic? (commenting on 'A Grief Observed' by C. S. Lewis)

I have respected Clive Staple Lewis for many years now. I had moved to Oxford, UK from Portsmouth because of my fascination with him. The man was remarkable. His presentation of what a Christian is meant to be is what inspires me. I do not wish to adopt his Christianity. I wish to adopt his overall love of language and philosophy and thinking that promoted mental health in people during and after the catastrophe of the Second World War. His Christianity however is not a hindrance in my appreciation of it. If anything I respect that he stuck to his own ideology despite what other people were teaching. There are things to appreciate in his faults.

In A Grief Observed we witness a great reality of the individual’s life: with great happiness there must come immense pain. Where you once love so deeply, that’s where you feel the most empty when it is taken away. And it works the other way as well, if you do not experience isolation you will never be able to fully understand an individual. That is essential to everything we should think and care about. Not the self-promotion and praise of self that our culture has adopted, but the loss of self and a celebration of honesty and authenticity. These are values that we should aspire towards.

And that is where Lewis helps me. He resonates deeply with his readers because he is completely honest with himself. He says: “I dread the moments when the house is empty” (15). He speaks of the “consolations of religion” and comments that there is none to be found (37).

This comes across most clearly when he proclaims: “Where is God? . . . Go to him when your need is desperate, when all other help is vain, and what do you find? A door slammed in your face” (6). Perhaps I possess a bias, but I must say that this statement is what I imagine to be the fulfillment of religion, whatsoever it’s doctrines - a coming to terms with the absurdity of the universe, that there is no answer and that there can not be an answer to the unending questions and subsequent anguish. This is the truthfulness of religion - that in the end not even God cares about you.

The Dilemma of Happiness
As we will see, these are Lewis’ thoughts and conclusions, not mine. He makes surprising statements on Christianity despite being one of the leading Christian apologist in the world: “When you are happy, so happy that you have no sense of needing Him, so happy that you are tempted to heel His claims upon you as an interruption . . . go to him when your need is desperate, when all other help is vain, and what do you find? . . . You may as well turn away. The longer you wait, the emphatic the silence will become. There are no lights in the windows. It might be an empty house. Was it ever inhabited?  It seemed so once. And that seeming was as strong as this. What can this mean? Why is He so present a commander in our time of prosperity and so very absent a help in time of trouble?” (17-8) ”

Where is God in this struggle? It is his absence that leads us to conclude that he may not have even existed. “Meanwhile, where is God? This is one of the most disquieting symptoms.inside” (17). Where is God? That is the question. Where is God when people are cast to Hell for doubting his existence, potentially because of predispositioned states of mind caused by God himself (see Romans 3,8.9).

What do we say about the illnesses? A serious question is: what about all this pain? Similarly he makes this point about cancer: “Cancer, and cancer, and cancer. My mother, my father, my wife. I wonder who is next in the queue” (24).

So did Lewis stop believing in God?
I started re-reading this book with the thought in mind that I wanted to discover whether Lewis was actually an agnostic/atheist towards the end of his life. We tend to over-romanticize our heroes, Lewis has especially been guilty of this. But I have officially come to the conclusion that he does not completely identify with my agnosticism, he says: “Not that I am (I think) in much danger of ceasing to believe in God. The real danger is of coming to believe such dreadful things about Him. The conclusion I dread is not ‘So there’s no God after all,’ but ‘So this is what God’s really like. Deceive yourself no longer’ ” (18-9). Then the philosopher asks if this is not a horrible God to believe in. And this is my take on it.

He does come to a very Kierkegaard-like conclusion: God is undiscoverable. His face is hidden. His door is locked. We can not find Him. He, if he so desires, will discover us. But we will not discover Him. I personally can not celebrate such a creator as the Christian God. And why should we? Why is it that people have this inner desire to worship something?  

I would not argue that Lewis felt like this all the time. This seems to be his lowest moment, coming to grips with the death of a loved one, especially a spouse, must be extremely difficult. We see this within the pages, he says “either God is not god or there is no God . . . or in the only life we know He hurts us beyond our worst fears and beyond all we can imagine” (40). So why do you follow this Lord, Lewis?

What is this Reality? - Are we living in a Laboratory?
And when we think about it we agree. This reality we live in is “unbearable” (40). But it is only unbearable if there is something else to compare it to. If there is nothing else supremely beautiful such as Heaven, then why should we be discouraged? Life is consisted of happy moments and sad or painful moments. This is a part of it. We should not be surprised. But if God is the author, how could he let this world become the present reality? “Why did such a reality blossom (or fester) here and there into the terrible phenomenon called consciousness?” (40) This is what he terms  ‘Extreme Calvinism’ (44). He suspects that all of us live in laboratories and compares human beings to rats being tested by scientists (41).

As I was reading through the book this is one of the reasons I wanted to argue Lewis’ agnosticism. We all want our heroes to be on the same ideological path as us. And when I read Lewis say: “When He seemed most gracious He was really preparing the next torture” (43), I could only imagine him struggling incredibly with his beliefs. It must have been so.

What does God deem as ‘good’?
All this bleek cruelty leads him to suggest the following, “Now God has in fact - our worst fear are true - all the characteristics we regard as bad: unreasonableness, vanity, vindictiveness, injustice, cruelty. But all these blacks (as they seem to us) are really whites. It’s only our depravity makes them look black to us” (44).

This is one of the best arguments against God, I’d say. I do not know why Lewis did not notice this counter-statement. I suppose that when you are so invested in a belief-system you come to align everything with reasons for happening, things begin to happen for specific purposes and then it is hard to come back to a mysterious existence. I prefer the latter. I prefer the mysterious existence where God is a reality, but in essence not understandable. How could he be? And this is what Lewis comes to as well.

He concludes that we do not have any reason to “believe that God is . . . ‘good’ ” (42). We question with him, yes what are the reasons for this? What is our evidence for believing in his ‘goodness’? Do we transcribe our feeling of joy or occasional happiness with his character? How do these two correlate? They are not in the same caliber. It is like saying that because I am a good person, God must be good as well. Or because I am a bad person, God must be bad as well. “The word good, applied to Him, becomes meaningless: like abracadabra. We have no motive for obeying Him. Not even fear. It is true we have His threats and promises. But why should we believe them? If cruelty is from His point of view ‘good,’ telling lies may be ‘good’ too. . . . If His ideas of good are so very different from ours, what He calls ‘Heaven’ might well be what we should call Hell, and vice-versa. Finally, if reality at its very root is so meaningless to us - or, putting it the other way round, if we are such total imbeciles - what is the point of trying to think either about God or about anything else? This knot comes undone when you try to pull it tight” (45). Lewis at his best.

This is what comes to the core of my problem with Christianity. There are assumptions about God’s goodness, but as Lewis describes we have nothing to base his goodness and our badness on. What is the point of describing God as good since our idea of good is so very often different from that which is described in the Bible? Our idea of the moral is so often distorted by personal bias, and our experience and situations make us mistakenly believe that ‘holiness’ is the reason for our suffering, when in fact it is our own incapability with acting in accordance with the structured Universe. Sinfulness is not, in the end, only the things that are bad for us. There are many things in the Bible that are deemed as sinful that are not bad for you, such as: sex outside of marriage, getting tattoos, not envying your neighbor’s property, swearing, doing addictive activities. All of these are activities can be done and have no major significant effect on the mind and/or our well-being. But of course that is a statistical claim and does not bear a lot of significance by just proclaiming it.

To come back to Lewis’ thoughts on the paradox of God’s character, Albert Camus comes to the same conclusion as he was discussing the Russian philosopher Chestov. He says: “Chestov discovers the fundamental absurdity of all existence, he does not say: ‘This the absurd,’ but rather: ‘This is God: we must rely on him even if he does not correspond to any of our rational categories.’ So that confusion may not be possible, the Russian philosopher even hints that this God is perhaps full of hatred and hateful, incomprehensible and contradictory; but the more hideous is his face, the more he asserts his power. His greatness is his incoherence. His proof is his inhumanity” (Myth of Sisyphus, 34).

It is incredibly interesting for me that Lewis and Chestov come to the same conclusions. I am leaning in this direction as well and I have seen Kierkegaard do the same, he went so far, similar to Ignatius of Loyola, to sacrifice all of his intellect in order to follow God, and this is what he was famously regarded for, because he believed God to not be understandable. The more you try to understand him the less sense he would make.

The Stoic Lewis
Lewis then proceeds to a sort of stoicism. He reasons that a man needs to accept the fact that there is nothing we can do with suffering except to suffer it (45). Or later he reiterates the same: “It doesn’t really matter where you grip the arms of the dentist’s chair or let your hands lie in your lap. The drill drills on” (46). Pain is unavoidable no matter how you try to persuade yourself otherwise.

Lewis’ Happy Ending?
As much as I would love to have Lewis on my side philosophically, I need to come to terms that his reality was very distinct from my own. He comes towards this conclusion, towards the end: “And so, perhaps, with God. I have gradually been coming to feel that the door is no longer shut and bolted. Was it my own frantic need that slammed it in my face? The time when there is nothing at all in your soul except a cry for help may be just the time when God can’t give it: you are like the drowning man who can’t be helped because he clutches and grabs. Perhaps your own reiterated cries deafen you to the voice you hoped to hear” (58-9).

This is where my path disconnects from Lewis’. He says that all nonsense questions are unanswerable. I agree. Yes they are unanswerable, but also their premise is non-existent. If we ask, “How many hours are there in a mile?” or “Is yellow square or round?” (examples provided by him), then we need to assume that yellow is an imaginable object. But that is not the case, or that an hour is the same measure as a mile. But we know these to be different. So this is not a helpful example.

If we ask the question, why have you created this world, God? Then our presupposition in this statement is moral more than anything. We count God as a moral creature that needs to hold up to our standard of morality, at least. The question is, if I am more moral than God, why is it that I should aspire to be him? Maybe in the past he has been a valid role model. But now he seems irrelevant and inconsistent. He adds: Probably half the questions we ask - half our great theological and metaphysical problems - are like that” (81-2). I would like to suggest that that is not the case. Our great theological and metaphysical problems need answers. And if they are not answerable by God, the creator of these problems, then how IN ALL OF HEAVEN does he expect of us to blindly follow him? To trust him? How could God expect this if he is real.
I understand that many throughout history have advocated a spiritual agnosticism. We do not need to possess the answers. The argument is, do you have the answers as an atheist? The response is: no, but I do not assume things about the universe that are not associated with it. I ‘believe’ not in metaphysical claims but in materialistic claims about the Universe. Even if these materialistic claims are incompatible with knowing things absolutely, they are assumptions. To emphasize again: they only claim material truth, not metaphysical.

The Meaningful Life for the Christian
And that is where Lewis stops his philosophising. He finds some sort of peace in the end. We see that he comes to the conclusion of the problem of living a great Christian life. That is that of sacrifice living up to the a) loving god part of the commandments and b) loving your neighbor as yourself (82). It is possible to accomplish these without having Joy with him (his deceased wife) and so he decides that that should be his meaning in life.  

He goes through a couple of turns to come to his conclusion. It is interesting how this had unfolded. This is a big reason for me to recommend this work. It could be one of my favorite books by Lewis because of it’s honesty and authenticity. You discover things about Lewis that you wouldn’t from a regular biography. You just need to look deeply and analyze the words he says and the underlying reality beneath them.

Other Substantial Quotes
Here are some more passages that I really enjoyed:
“Reality never repeats. The exact same thing is never taken away and given back” (37).

“When He seemed most gracious He was really preparing the next torture” (43).

“What reason have we, except our own desperate wishes, to believe that God is, by any standard we can conceive, ‘good’? Doesn’t all the prima facie evidence suggest exactly the opposite? What have we to set against it?” (42).

“And now that I come to think of it, there’s no practical problem before me at all. I know the two great commandments and I’d better get on with them. Indeed, H.’s death has ended the practical problem” (82).

“They say an unhappy man wants distractions - something to take him out of himself” (17).

“It’s easy to see why the lonely become untidy; finally, dirty and disgusting” (17).

“Talk to me about the truth of religion and I’ll listen gladly. Talk to me about the duty of religion and I’ll listen submissively. But don’t come talking to me about the consolations of religion or I shall suspect that you don’t understand” (37).

“ ‘Because she is in God’s hands.‘ But if so, she was in God’s hands all the time, and I have seen what they did to her here. Do they suddenly become gentler to us the moment we are out of the body? And if so, why? If God’s goodness is inconsistent with hurting us, then either God is not god or there is no God: for in the only life we know He hurts us beyond our worst fears and beyond all we can imagine. If it is consistent with hurting us, then He may hurt us after death as unendurably as before it” (39-40).


“When I lay these questions before God I get no answer. But a rather special sort of ‘No answer.’ It is not locked door. It is more like a silent, certainly not uncompassionate, gaze. As though He shook His head not in refusal but waiving the question. Like, ‘Peace, child; you don’t understand.’ ” (81)

Montreal, a Place of Solitude

Tuesday
A coffee has been poured for me. Airports represent the business of life. There is too much new information, happening all the time. It’s easy to have some sort of pin-point place for your morality. I do not think that that is what we should aim for. It is the beginning of my trip. My mind has been emptied yesterday as I sat by the lake, listening to the peace that was represented by the waves crashing along the sand.

The flight to Calgary and then Montreal was quick. I am now sitting in a cafe. I have had my lunch, now it’s time to enjoy some tea and baking. It is not good weather but I don’t mind that. I need to meet up with my friends friend. I have a lot of time up until then. I should start doing something beautiful with my time.

I have checked in and been introduced to some of my dorm room-mates. They are from Edmonton and they don’t like BC. I guess there is a rivalry between us. They mentioned the pretentiousness that is commonly found there. The one man wants to move to Montreal when he saves up a little, I forgot to ask where he works.

Wednesday  
I spent the day walking around with my friend and his girlfriend. We sat on a terrace, drank some lovely ale and wine, indulged on some octopus and salad.

Then in the evening I met with Quinn. He is into film and photography. He showed me some of the things he is working on. People you haven’t met are interesting. They are a puzzle that needs assembling and reassembling. The conversations have the potential to go very deep and that is the most cherishing things of all.

Thursday
I have been sitting at this cafe, listening to the classical music and slow jazz that is playing in the background.

Something about Montreal illustrates life well. People all going different directions, not meaning to be rude but coming across that way, anyways. Everyone has a story, each waitress is living life such as you are. It is only a matter of time that all of us stumble on happiness. Is my goal to be living in such an environment? There are so many opportunities it seems. Yet there is also cruelty, not as was expected of course.

There is so much beauty here. There is too much to appreciate and too little time. How would you find the effort and time to walk everywhere, see everyone? The people are sweet and all deserve attention and gratitude. If I could I would spend more time here, discovering the language of the French and possibly move to Paris afterwards. There is a lot of history here but it is only a dip into the actual history of the French.

I move from cafe to cafe, there is something new on each street, something undiscovered. As I look around I discover things about myself as well. It is the isolation that I crave, with so many people you can hide away and become invisible, because you are just another face that is gone the next second after noticing it. It is easy to hide away from one’s own struggles and maybe this is why people come to big cities, to become unnoticeable.

I am working on some writing, pondering C. S. Lewis’ depression. Soothing. The sound of plates clashing in the background as they are being collected, laughs even further out behind the counter. Unknown phrases being used. What is it about language that is so essential? Why should we write? I wonder. Maybe it is because of this, this unseen beauty that is unknown but can be known. The thoughts of another person on paper, thoughts you can read and hope to understand. We chase wisdom for the sake of happiness. It is, arguably, the only happiness that is attainable. And it is understandable that we pursue it through words, and then music. Could it be the other way around? Music is a form of therapy, words can be that as well, as we see with A Grief Observed. Lewis needed some sort of therapeutic pondering and so he took to the pen and paper.

It is good to sit and think and process these thoughts on paper. You say things that you did not know you think. It is a form of meditation, even if no one reads it, which in this case should be true, that is where you find yourself most happy. Completely expressive and honest with yourself. Maybe that is wishing for too much. Maybe that is the ultimate virtue.

Friday
There is something you discover about yourself when you challenge yourself socially. But you only challenge yourself socially if you do not have a different acquaintance at the time.

It started pouring just now, pouring rain. And it has stopped after a while.

I keep thinking about her as I am sitting by an open window listening to the heavy rain. Her face is so interesting. Don’t get me wrong, it’s beautiful, but it’s fully expressing emotions that seem as if they were mirrored from myself. When I look at her I see what I think, when I say what I think she responds within moments and gives value to my feelings. It’s authentic expressions and this is why I cherish them. If there is no expression then there can not be a response. And if there isn’t a response there can not be a connection. You can overplay it, but that is not what she does. She has mastered the craft perfectly.

So I wonder, is that the ultimate goal of social interaction? Do we aspire to see the best in people so that they can see in our facial expressions that we are truly listening, understanding, and applying the thoughts they have stated? This is true friendship, when you are completely invested, when there is nothing else to gain. That is what I will try to gain.

My bed is comfortable but laying in it for too long is painful. There is too much to see and to know in this city to do that without a sense of guilt. I wonder, is this how Albert Camus felt, or Ernest Hemingway, or Scott Fitzgerald as they were walking through the streets of Paris.

Montreal is best understood when it is raining. I was lucky to see it raining today, to walk the streets in it’s rain. It cleanses the city, makes it easier to associate emotions with it. That is the dream, to sit by a window, with a guitar, coffee, and notepad and to just write down emotions and try to compose music with those emotions. We should do the craft justice and master the talents that we have, attribute skill to them.

Saturday
The driver was helpful. He was discussing the history of the town and significance of various streets. I was told that the people in Montreal are not very friendly. This is not what I have found thus far.

When you are drunk you just want one thing, to get home and for it all to be over. Because it is better to be aware than to have mindless fun. But some can not deal with being aware and so they escape to that numbing feeling. I prefer the first. Life is better with me being able to reflect on it.

Sunday

Montreal was beautiful. Montreal has been good to my soul. Now I come back to that place where I came from and I attempt to transcribe what I have witnessed place to place. Plane to plane. House to house. Bed to bed.

The Atheist Deals With Death (with Mark Manson)

I have recently finished Mark Manson’s wonderful comedic book, The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck and I just wanted to document some sections that dealt with the problem of death.

Since this blog mainly focuses on the approach to living from an Atheist’s perspective I thought it would be very helpful to post some of these paragraphs on here.

  1. The Acceptance of Death leads to a Fuller Capacity to Live Life
“This acceptance of my death, this understanding of my own fragility, has made everything easier - untangling my addictions, identifying and confronting my own entitlement, accepting responsibility for my own problems - suffering through my fears and uncertainties, accepting my failure and embracing rejections - it has been made lighter by the thought of my own death. The more I peer into the darkness, the brighter life gets, the quieter the world becomes, and the less unconscious resistance I feel to, well, anything” (Mark Manson, 209).

Death is not what the religious would want us to believe. We hear this all the time, if you die tomorrow, might as well pillage and destroy today. But that is not what makes human beings happy. What makes humans happy is helping and building, not harming and destroying - this is how we build societies and families and a legacy, ultimately. This leads to the 2nd point:

     2.    Death is Inevitable, Why Terrorize Life While we Have it?
Bukowski once wrote, “We’re all going to die, all of us. What a circus! That alone should make us love each other, but it doesn’t. We are terrorized and flattened by life’s trivialities; we are eaten up by nothing” (208).

     3.    Legacy is the Most Important Facet in Life
“Confronting the reality of our own mortality is important because it obliterates all the crappy, fragile, superficial values in life. While most people whittle their days chasing another buck, or a little bit more fame and attention, or a little bit more assurance that they’re right or loved, death confronts all of us with a far more painful and important question: What is your legacy?” (205).

All of these lead us to understand why we should study philosophy. You can achieve a sense of eternity if you are capable to express yourself through information and embody immortality. We are a collections of neural frameworks that respond to reflexes and imagine consciousness for themselves. Although consciousness is also a very difficult concept in and of itself, hence we will not be discussing it here. But this is also the postmodern belief. Language is an eternal if put on a source that can not be eradicated. And in a digital era, information is difficult to delete, hence we all achieve a form of immortality.