Christian Agnostic, part VII: Danger

Nothing is - really - that safe. Anybody that tells you "you're safe now" is only telling you a half-truth, because safety is only temporary. So of course, it makes sense that we like to make ourselves feel like we're more safe than we really are, to foster the illusion of security. We do it in so many ways - through our attitudes of certainty, through arrogance, through indifference, through cynicism. Each is an emotional blanket, in a manner of speaking, to keep ourselves blissfully unaware (to degrees) of the dangers we face everyday. Asteroids could pummel our house, an earthquake could sink our city, a tsunami could drown all we know, global warming could burn us into oblivion ... we could lose our jobs ... the list could go on. It doesn't help that the movie industry makes about ten movies for every problem, a constant graphic reminder that our lives are shadows and dust in the grand scheme of things. Not to mention religion - so many philosophers have made it a lifetime work to either prove or disprove religion, seeking that certainty to quell their inner fears of the danger.

Are there any true places of safety? Not really, not while we're in this reality. I suppose one could question "safety" in its grander, eternal definition, but for now, let's stick with the place most of us agree is important - here and now. We are not safe here and now, not really.

So why do I bring up all this "Christian Agnosticism" talk of skepticism and uncertainty in the face of these dangers? Surely, you say, it has its flaws and imperfections that provoke the danger. True, of course; the benefits of being an agnostic who has decided to follow Christ does not eliminate the uncertainty - by definition. In some ways, it is a psychological tool for dealing with the dangers of the everyday. Just as certainty is a blissful self-deception that aids our fragile minds in continuing life, so too is skepticism a form of assuaging the mind; "it's ok" I tell myself, "nobody knows it all, but we're working on it." And then we do.

So what are these dangers?

Any worldview that is coupled with a relative skepticism faces a dangerous balancing act. On the one hand, the emotions of doom and gloom can push us into cynicism, nihilism, and indifference. On the other, our continuing quest for truth can push us towards arrogance and the illusion of certainty. And that's just to name a few.

Cynicism

It's a foregone conclusion that nobody will ever quite figure it all out. If you've ever doubted this, just look at the manner in which science and industry has become increasingly specialized; neurobiologists can spend their entire lives focusing on one single cluster of neurons in the human brain; a factory worker could spend his whole life putting the bottom of a globe onto the top; military technicians can specialize in one or two kinds of planes. The more one person specializes, the smaller chance he or she has to figure out other aspects of life. However, upon the unpleasant realization that nobody will ever quite figure it all out, a person could become cynical, derisive, and generally bad-tempered. The journey of life, for such a person, becomes a burden rather than a joy. 

Anarchism

Beyond cynicism, the skeptic could encounter a certain selfishness and think "since I don't have it figured out, nobody else does either, why should I listen to anyone?" The purely rational mind might then reason that laws are simply human creations that are imperfect, a societal construct, and thus are completely dependent upon the compliance of the group. This same person might then ignore those rules, turning to anarchy and hedonism in the selfish, individualized pursuit of self-realized experience. 

The Christian Agnostic ought to avoid this, obviously. Aside from the fact that God disapproves of such utter lack of restraint, our skepticism is meant to pursue truth as a cognitive whole. We learn from each other, not just from ourselves. The agnostic ought to be the MOST trusting of anyone precisely because he or she cannot know everything. Our ability to, as a race, understand the world that has been placed around us (or the world in which we have been placed, depending on one's perspective) depends on our ability to live with one another in relative harmony. The Christian Agnostic should be the first person to seek this harmony because it is the only way towards understanding. The scriptures resonate this, over and over again; we are to seek justice for the oppressed, care for the widows and orphans, love the unloved. It is through our interactions with others that we gain new experience and understanding into who God is and who we are.

Indifference ("Apatheism")

One might take another route out of skepticism. Instead of a cynical depression, one might simply become indifferent, apathetic to the pursuit of truth. This is the self-deception of the unimportance of truth; to deal with the psycholoical dissonance, such people tell themselves that it doesn't really matter, that truth isn't really that useful anyway. I would wager that this is actually the most common reaction among today's Postmodern generation. While the pursuit of truth is important to many, many more seem indifferent to truth, preferring instead to live and let live. Theirs is an apatheism born of the value of "tolerance" for others' beliefs, out of the worry that their pursuit of truth might offend another and disrupt their relationship. Of course, such people do not consider that good relationships are not built on the prospect of NOT offending, but rather on principles of honesty and seeking truth together. Tolerance is a shallow virtue, one that is built on avoiding emotional pain rather than the pursuit of something constructive, and thus has no real relational potential. I'll talk more about relativism and tolerance another time, but for now, suffice it to say that it isn't good for much else than a temporary band-aid.

Arrogance

It is a foregone conclusion that arrogance can be a problem no matter what position one takes. But one can be arrogant in one's skepticism, ironically enough because of a certainty of one's position. Skepticism, in this case, becomes a crutch rather than a partner or tool; instead of allowing one's skepticism to help pursue truth, to find the self-deceptions in one's life and root them out in humility, skepticism itself becomes an end, a firm position. One who becomes so certain in one's skeptical position (rather than also questioning its usefulness from time to time) can instead find it convenient to point out to others the "correctness" of their skepticism, the "I question everything, therefore I am better than you." This is not the purpose of skepticism or agnosticism, which is supposed to be a tool to humility and illumination of one's own inadequacies. It's also a fine line from here towards cynicism.

Do you see how each of these promotes an illusion of safety? In truth, each attempts to foster the illusion of a sort of certainty. Cynicism is the certainty of hopelessness, Anarchism the certainty of one's freedom from the authority of others, Apatheism the certainty of futility, and arrogance the certainty of one's own position. In each of these bastardizations of skepticism, the skeptic becomes unwilling to continue questioning the universe in the pursuit of truth. True skepticism, on the other hand, finds hope in the fact that we can learn through questioning, that learning is enough itself, that the truth we do find is precious in and of itself, and that learning more about ourselves, about the universe, and about the realities beyond this one are worth the effort. This is not a safe place to be.

But it is good.