Religious Certainty Is Overrated
Someone close to me recently expressed some concern about a post I’d written a while back explaining how I currently understand (misunderstand?) my religious faith. The point of concern was my abandonment of certainty and of any interest in attaining it. If I’m less than certain in my religious faith, is my faith then weak or in question? In forsaking any certainty, do I risk forsaking my faith?
At the risk of sounding coy, I must confess the answer to these questions is possibly. Anyhow, I have two reasons for why I have no religious certainty and why I don’t think such certainty is really possible.
First, the basis of my religious knowledge—my knowledge of revealed truths—is the say-so of self-defined religious authorities—authorities who claim, without proof or conclusive evidence, that they speak for God. I believe them to be divinely inspired, at times, but neither they nor I can prove this for certain.
Second, what I call my religious faith may be something other than religious faith, either in part or in total. John Caputo explains why in his book Against Ethics:
The acting subject is something acted upon even in its very acting, for the acting subject is itself a function of the anonymous, presubjective forces by which it is traversed—by language, the unconscious, by the weight and momentum of its own past, of the collective past to which it belongs, by the biochemistry and neurophysiology of which it is constituted, and by numberless (because anonymous) other forces. When the subject acts, we cannot be sure what acts, i.e., what is happening, because the individual subject is an irreducible complex of other events.
I cannot dismiss the possibility that my faith isn’t something otherwise than a response to a revealing God. It’s possible that what I call my faith experiences are the result of digestion, bodily chemistry, neurosis, the fear of death, or the desire for meaning. Because I do not know myself with certainty, I cannot know my faith with certainty. I cannot say for sure what it is.
I’m not in the least bothered by my uncertainty. It’s not as though certainty is one of the virtues, theological or otherwise. I seem to get along, faith-wise, just fine without it.
It’s not as though certainty is one of the virtues, theological or otherwise.
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Agreed. But I am keen to point out that the same applies to doubt, especially doubt that functions exactly like faith.
Both atheists and believers need to be careful about their need for certainty. The world is a complex place.
Echoed. I think faith becomes that much more tangible when we acknowledge our uncertainty than try and pretend we have certainty about things we really don’t. God doesn’t call us to certainty, he calls us to trust.
Indeed.
Faith requires uncertainty, otherwise it would be knowledge.
“I do believe, Lord: help my unbelief”. Coming to the faith, as I did, as an agnostic with no faith background, I was very moved by that verse.
A very god post. Yes I would agree with this. I would love to find that one religion or group or system that like a moth to flame I could cleave to it without doubt. It seems to me that total wholeness would be total reunion with God. Thanks.
A ‘god post.’ I like that!
I think a good working definition of faith is “deliberately chosen, subjective certitude about objectively uncertain or unknowable matters.”
It seems to me that Anselm’s “fides quaerens intellectum” – faith striving for understanding – presumes a lack of certainty, or else why the striving? The problem today is false certainty masquerading as faith, with little striving and even less understanding. I will be the first to confess that this has often been a personal failure of mine.
The question, then, is clearly–is that striving a delusional absurdity? Or can the striving potentially end in transcendence?
How do I really know that what I call an experience of transcendence isn’t actually a delusion?
Exactly. As limited creatures, certainty intrinsically eludes us. We can never grasp the entirety of anything, and so what we refer to as certainty is merely a very strong act of faith.
The question, then, is clearly – is there any difference between the delusion of transcendence or actual transcendence?
To quote Eliot, “For us there is only the trying.
Kyle,
I hope that this is not too personal a question, but I’ll pose it: You say that you are uncertain about your faith. Suppose you were being asked to deny Christ or be killed (e.g., ancient Rome, feudal Japan, communist Russia, etc.). What would you do? To choose martyrdom, doesn’t someone need at least some level of certainty?
(For myself, I’m not confident what I would do in those very difficult circumstances, but I pray that I’d have the strength to choose martyrdom — because today, I’m certain enough about the truths of the Faith to say that I should choose martyrdom over apostasy.)
I hope I would have the strength to die for my faith, but like you I cannot say so confidently. Anyhow, no, I don’t think certainty is necessary, though if I believed I had certainty, I might find martyrdom a hair’s breadth easier. The strength to be a martyr could come from certainty, but it could also come from faith, hope, and love.
The strength to be a martyr could come from certainty, but it could also come from faith, hope, and love.
Amen.
I don’t think I disagree with your position, but I also can’t quite make full sense of everything — sometimes like you’re making distinctions that I’m not grasping or that there is talking past each other going on due to the limitations of semantics. (For example, isn’t faith synonymous with certainty? More faith=more certain?) So let me say it a different way:
Martyrdom–to profess belief in something even though this will mean certain death–requires some level of certainty, I think. It doesn’t require complete certainty, but it does require at least some level of certainty, right? Doesn’t it require someone thinking “I’m not completely certain that Christ is God, but compared to every other possibility out there, I’ve found the proposition that Christ is God is the one that seems most true for me, and my belief that it is true is strong enough that I will stake my very life on that belief.”
Like I said, I don’t think that we disagree; we obviously won’t have complete certainty of God and His love for us until we see Him face-to-face in the Beatific Vision. But we should hope and pray to have enough faith in Him, so that we don’t deny Him when the challenge comes.
Martyrdom–to profess belief in something even though this will mean certain death–requires some level of certainty
Is it certainty that is required, or affinity?
In Thales question, “Is faith also certainty?” Sometimes when I’ve seen faith in others(in my opinion) it was actually arrogance. Maybe that’s the triad: Faith, Arrogance, Certainty. Things like permanance, home, certainty seem to me to be like attrtibutes of a total reunion with God. To posses certainty before reunion is misguided. Thanks
I’m not convinced that death by martyrdom is universally good, nor do I pray for “strength” to eagerly accept such a martyrdom if it were offered.
As I see it, the primary grace of the martyr grace is to embrace a perspective bigger than his ego-self, and to act without the inhibition of the ego-self. That may mean he offers his body to an executioner, or maybe not; the choice comes from a selfless and conscious choice rather than a choice driven by self-preservation. If I extrapolate from my experience, the martyr’s “leap of faith” is from a smaller, contracted but familiar and “safe” perspective to a new, more expansive, less familiar and more daring one.
I doubt very much that martyrs who accepted execution made a rational choice among faith options, or made a conscious selection among “every other possibility out there.” Stories describe how they went to the area or the archery range “joyfully.” I’d sooner believe that they acted as they did because from a Christ-conscious perspective it was the most attractive path open to them.
With the practice of meeting challenges from within a greater perspective, it becomes familiar and safe enough to support the next leap of faith, whatever that will be. I propose the distinction between desirable and undesirable certainty is the difference between practice and certainty of faith (perspective) that supports the faithful’s next bold leap of faith. A certainty which holds the faithful back, clinging to a comfortable faith (identity) and too fearful to accept anything new, is not-so-good.
I’m not suggesting “ditch your tired old faith” but rather be teachable and ready to transcend and include what you trust now into a bigger picture.
Dan and information,
Sorry, I don’t follow. Again, maybe we’re talking past each other.
Frank,
Likewise, I don’t follow all what you’re saying — but I think I agree with you. But I would say that martyrdom is not merely a step into an unknown — instead, it’s a step into an unknown, based on one’s current trust and confidence that Christ is Lord.
Maybe the problem is that no one has defined “certainty.” If it’s defined as “free from doubt”, all I’m saying is that martyrdom requires at least some level of being free from doubt.
My statement refers to the idea that it’s not certainty that leads us to make the decisions we do, but rather affinity; that betraying the system of beliefs which has made us who we are and provides the meaning in our lives would be akin to, or worse than, death.
Dan,
Then I think there is still talking past each other going on, because I agree with you about affinity. But being so wedded to one’s systems of beliefs as to choose them over death involves some level of confidence in one’s beliefs — which means some level of being “free from doubt”, which is my working definition of “certainty”.
Thales,
I guess my point is that certainty is not required, only affinity. People make decisions, even unto choosing death, about things which certainty is meaningless. For example, someone may choose death for something unrelated to beliefs, e.g. a loved one, a country, etc, but more importantly to my point, some may choose death about something which they know to be untrue, if their affinity is strong enough: e.g. It’s better to burn out than to fade away, I’d rather be a dead legend than a living shadow, etc.. Everyone knows that your street rep doesn’t help you when you’re dead, but people will die as thugs rather than repent and save their lives.
Dan,
Fair enough. But I’m thinking of martyrdom. And of course, your affinity probably is present in martyrdom. But I think for most martyrs, they are “choosing” death (or better, they are accepting death) because they believe that Christ is Lord and that it would be worse to deny Him than to die. In other words, it’s mostly related to their belief in the truth of Christ. Their faith has to be strong enough –in other words, they have to have a sufficient level of certainty–to support them in that choice. These saints might even be going through a lack of emotional connection to Christ (think of the “dark nights” that many saints undergo), but still have faith strong enough to choose belief in Christ over death.
No. You can’t know if what you would call “transcendent” is delusional. That is precisely why it might be conjectured that “striving” for it is absurd. Even if you “get it,” you may just be hallucinating. But it was not you who used the word “striving.” One can take the existentialist position that the striving in itself gives meaning to existence, even if that striving is possibly aimed towards the void. But, in that case, I’m not too certain that anything other than the Self is the object of faith.
My standard objection applies here, too: the term ‘certainty’ hardly means the same thing from one person to another. The person for whom it means something like the anchor of religious experience, will never understand the one who means it as an obstacle to authentic religious abandonment. For this reason, I think that railing for or against ‘certainty’ is literally meaningless, unless everyone means the same thing—and that is VERY unlikely.
Sam
That’s a good point, Sam. It is always useful to define one’s terms. I guess it goes without saying that one can be absolutely “certain” about something, and be dead wrong. The various attempts to demonstrate logical proofs of God’s existence would seem to suggest that faith, whether “blind” or “certain,” has long been in disrepute among those with inquiring minds–or has, at least, been deemed inadequate.
I would call my knowledge certain, at least relatively so, when I know it through incontrovertible evidence and/or sound argumentation. I have certainty when I can say, with conclusive reasons, that something cannot be otherwise.
Perhaps this bit from Thomas is relevant to the conversation:
“[O]n the part of its cause . . . a thing which has a more certain cause, is itself more certain. In this way faith is more certain than those three virtues [among which is science], because it is founded on the Divine truth, whereas the aforesaid three virtues are based on human reason. Secondly, certitude may be considered on the part of the subject, and thus the more a man’s intellect lays hold of a thing, the more certain it is. In this way, faith is less certain, because matters of faith are above the human intellect, whereas the objects of the aforesaid three virtues are not. Since, however, a thing is judged simply with regard to its cause, but relatively, with respect to a disposition on the part of the subject, it follows that faith is more certain cimply, while others are more certain relatively, i.e. for us.” (IIa IIae, q. 4, a. 8)
This seems to address the apparent nature of the confusion between Kyle and Thales that Thales notes, as well as Sam’s concerns about language. I think it relates to others’ concerns as well.
How is faith (in the Divine) because it is founded upon Divine truth, not a circular argument?
In a way I suppose it is circular. Calling it faith rather than, say, knowledge is, I think, an acknowledgment of the fact that it is not something we can get to without a leap somewhere.
Again, I would point out that doubt functions in much the same way. I don’t think our circumstances allow us anything else. Credo ut intelligam.