Posted by PS on December 16, 2004 at 05:51:02:
In Reply to: Re: 4Q521 -- a long and winding response posted by cav on December 16, 2004 at 02:15:17:
Very cool! I want to comment, but let me do it piecemeal, please (and in a sort of backwards order in this first section).
First, perhaps least importantly (but interesting!), you said "I am reluctant to accept the authority of any group, which works fine in a scholarly context, but in the context of faith, this would [not work, etc.]." Anyway, the funny thing is, a scholar might in a sense see it in the opposite way. The scholar would LESS accept the authority of any group, at least on the basis of any inherited or imparted right to authority, and always reserve the right to challenge anything. The difference is that both the challenge and the defense must be based on depth of research and erudition that are recognized by all. Now one might equate this kind of appeal to one's peers (for the acceptance of one's credentials and research, not necessarily one's position) as a sort of submission to "the authority of any group," I will grant.
Now to invoke some precision in terminology, however, let me observe that the "traditional denominations" (these would be the larger, older, and more liberal religious establishments as a rule) would generally take a more scholarly approach to religion, why is why you have such a divergence of opinion and so much tolerance toward those with divergent views. However, a substantial dialectic tension exists between the constant imposition of scholarly standards and sacred church tradition. Thus, the liberal pastor seems a bit more balanced, or restrained, if you will, a bit more open and tolerant, and a bit less pushy about what he/she believes. One may suggest this is because the liberal clergy is just a bit more uncertain and confused, of course. ;-)
Authority claims in this liberal context do not work because they are not forced. The irony is that this tolerant and accepting form of religion (which I have some affinity for) is declining in membership. Many people don't want objectivity, because that is too closely akin to relativity. They don't want reasonability; they want hard and fast answers. In an age of confusion and crisis, more and more people want prophetic authority; they want to be told they are saved, and they want to be managed enough to know they will stay that way. This is why the more sectarian groups are growing and thriving despite all of their publicized intolerance and bigotry.
So let's make a contrast with these more sectarian and fundamentalist groups. The closest thing to dialectic tension for them is perhaps deciding how much to tolerate the satanic attacks of the scholars and liberals. In this realm, one's claims to authority are validated more by the charisma of the leader and the intolerance of diversity than any other criteria. Provocative revelations function for the charismatics like inflexibility and judgmentalism do for the fundamentalists: they push people off of the fence, so to speak, which is exactly what the sectarian wants. One needs to be in heaven or hell; anyone in-between is breaking the rules. If you don't know that you know that you know, then you aren't. (...and Calvin rolls over in his grave.)
Now my point is simply that the "authority of the group" seems to work best in these sectarian groups. Of course you and I are both somewhat uncomfortable in that world. ;-)
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: Of course any church that begins to grow and needs to systematize must define a canon...but doesn't this create an interesting problem? The people who determine this canon, must either state that no further revelations are being produced or claim the authority to determine which are correct in perpetuity. Both seem like mammoth claims, but which have been made by various canonizing bodies in many denominations. The former reminds me of the modern dispensationalists. The latter of the Catholic church.
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You are on to something here. But the "modern dispensationalists" and the Catholics are really very much alike in how they get around this "either-or" distinction you have noted. First, the canon is closed and whatever revelations are received are subject to the authority of the canon. No problem here. So how do we validate a new teaching or employ a new practice when we need to? By a new and/or more fully revealed interpretation of the same old infallible canon. The Catholic church recognized papal authority to interpret scripture, and traditionally has not recognized the ability of the layperson to do so. The Protestants (in the 16th century, i.e. Luther, Calvin, Zwingli) recognized the right and the ability of each person to have a relationship with God based on one's own experience of the truth of scripture--as long as it didn't disagree with the church! In their minds, the church embraced the original teaching of the apostles--before the Catholics perverted it. Thus, at different levels, both groups still held the authority to determine correct interpretation of scripture. Both the Catholics AND the Protestants put heretics to death. The Protestants didn't need the approval of the pope to do so.
As an aside, the forerunners of many of our modern Protestant groups were persecuted and martyred by the original Protestants. They were called Anabaptists; they baptized adults in water based on a personal, mature profession of faith in Jesus, and did not feel the sprinkling of infants was real baptism. They were hunted down and killed all over Europe. In fact, Catholics and Protestants even put aside their differences at one point to fight the Anabaptists together. But I digress...
The difference with the modern sects is that the authority to reinterpret scripture is open for grabs; all you need is a group of followers that are convinced you have the anointing to do so. Why can't this annoying trend be stopped? Because it is no longer legal to burn heretics at the stake. Oh, for the good old days...
But seriously... Secularization and the marginalization of religion prevents the church from exercising authority on anyone who does not submit to it. Which brings us back to the ironic trend today that more and more religious people are willing to submit to provocative, controversial, semi-controlling prophetic figures than to well-balanced and well-educated leaders who claim no special privilege or revelation.
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: So where does this leave the conscientious yet realistic faithful? I suggest it leaves them to whatever tradition they were brought up into. Now I don't mean this as a relativistic thing...everyone knows how much I hate that (*aside* because from a philosophical point of view, truth cannot be plural by definition.) But we have to start somewhere, so the faith that we first accepted is the only place we can start. But then any seeking person will eventually realize the flaws in their own dogmas and begin to look around. At this point I think it serves us well to learn critical thinking as well as contemplative study, because with these techniques we can look at anything, give it appropriate weight by source, and still glean from it the truth illuminated by a living, speaking God.
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Oh, yes. You have said a mouthful here. Of course, most would not have taken so many bites without swallowing the first ones. ;-)
Tradition is the heart of religion. Tradition is not a bad thing, unless your tradition represents centuries of departure from the truth of your beliefs, resulting in corruption and abuses. Religion in itself, in the GOOD sense of what religion is, is all about remembering. Memory is everything. We remember by retelling and reliving, by memorializing and ritualizing the truths in our sacred stories so as never to forget the most important things. When we feel there is too much distance from the sacredness and meaningfulness of our youth (early faith), the most natural and positive thing to do is return to those traditions seeking the root of our faith. That is exactly what you just said, I know; I just wanted to emphasize the holiness of that return, and the redemption and healing in it. Memory is everything.
I cannot comment much here on the reaction to the realization of flaws in our dogmas. The book has yet to be written. It will be a long one. The looking around is natural and necessary for thinking persons, that is, for persons who care to know that what they believe is true. When they find that much of their sacred truth may be something else, the crisis ensues. I cannot chart my whole progression of thought and journey of faith and doubt through the last few decades, nor can I tell you it is over, but I can tell you a little bit about where I am now.
My past is beautiful. I remember learning in Sunday School that Jesus loved me, that He would always love me, and would never forsake me, no matter what. No matter how far I strayed, if I called out to him, He would be there. No power that exists could ever separate me from His love. I actually believed that; I remembered it. Memory is everything. If there is one thing in my life I could look back to and say, "This is precious; this is the beginning of faith for me," it would be here. My return to tradition will be founded on this sure foundation, and it could well support a skyscraper, stories upon sacred stories of the truths I learned of the love of God, the chronicles of the realizations of the Presence of the Holy One in my life.
I know enough "scholarly" information to abolish my faith, or to fight a war to establish it. It means nothing to me in the sacred place. The Truth is higher than what I can ever know. I will still challenge others and disillusion my students and make new discoveries and marvel at what I learn. I will still be a scholar. But this is not my path to faith or to God. It is my path in faith, with God. My path to God seems to be ever taking me back to Sunday School. The great theologian Karl Barth, who wrote volumes upon volumes of theological treatises, was asked near the end of his life about the greatest theological insight he had ever had. He replied, "Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so." I get it. I think I am beginning to understand about the return trip.
I like your conclusion: "It is the simplicity on the far side of complexity." Yeah, that's it.