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Canon Hilary Wakeman suggests (Irish Times, 'Rite and Reason',
Dec 22nd) that we cannot honestly say we believe the Creed in
anything other than a poetical sense, and that dishonesty on this is
'laying the hand of death on the Church'. From the rest of her
article it appears that her argument rests upon the fact that the
material cosmos of the Christian Creeds has been dismantled by
modern science.
What she, and all modern intellectuals, need to grasp is that the
universe of the creeds is a moral as well as a material universe.
That is to say the vertical spatial dimension represents not merely
what is physically supposed to be above and below a flat or
disc-shaped Earth, but what is good and what is evil. This is why
God and heaven are placed 'above' and Hell is placed 'below'. Heaven
is therefore the 'place' of glory while Hell is the 'place' of
disgrace and shame.
The creedal narrative is therefore telling us that the Christian God
is on a moral trajectory that is unexpected - towards shame and
disgrace, the lot of the 'losers' of the ancient world. (The
'winners' were people like Alexander the Great and Julius Caesar).
Incarnation is the beginning of this narrative, crucifixion and
resurrection the dramatic centre, and glorification the end. But
Jesus' glorification was the reward for his acceptance of disgrace
and defeat. The 'meaning' of the story is therefore that 'glory'
does not await those who seek to move only 'upward' (i.e. those who
set out egotistically to 'reach the top') - as 'the world' has
always thought. Humility and service - the centre of the Christian
ethic - point in the opposite direction.
Empirical science has no power to destroy the moral universe of the
Creeds, because it has yet to show how any ethical code can be
derived from the truths it can verify. I suspect that most people
who say the creeds have no sense of suppressed dishonesty, because
they intuitively know that they are not primarily describing a
physical cosmos.
Curiously, it is only the one-dimensional empirical mind that has
problems with the notion of a moral universe. The millions who read
and watch the Tolkien stories - or the Star Wars and Star
Trek sagas for that matter - have no such problem. It's no
accident that Canon Wakeman's chosen empiricist is Richard Dawkins,
who epitomises Enlightenment envy of the Christian clergy's role in
the field that he would wish his own priesthood, the scientists, to
dominate: education.
Dawkins supposes (and Wakeman seems to agree) that the Catholic
dogma of the Assumption of Mary, both body and soul, is 'irrational'
- because Heaven can't be a physical place that contains bodies. But
precisely the same objection has been raised to the Ascension - the
event related in Acts 1, when the apostles saw Jesus ascend bodily
to the Father. In fact, Christian theology has never been definitive
on the non-materiality of Heaven. It emphasises rather that Heaven
is essentially a [relationship] of full reconciliation and unity
with God. A relationship need not be, but obviously may be,
something that occurs in some space somewhere.
How may a moral/spiritual universe (if such a thing exists) interact
with our material/physical universe? We simply don't know. But to
begin with the Dawkins position that it simply can't exist, and
therefore cannot interact, is surely in itself hubristic and
unscientific - especially in an era when physicists themselves
declare the possibility of multiple dimensions that we have no
normal access to, and when the consequences of supposing the
universe to be morally and spiritually empty lie all around us.
It is not empiricism that will invalidate Christianity in the long
run, but the failure of Christians themselves to grasp and realise
the purpose of a God who challenges 'the world' of our own time -
the 'meritocracy' that tries to make science itself the slave of
commerce and the armaments industry, and looks down from towers of
glass on the losers of the meritocratic race. This notion that
society must always have a 'top' in the meritocratic sense is based
upon a human frailty identified in the Decalogue - the desire never
to be outdone by our neighbour. Scientists are, alas, as prone to it
as the rest of us - as Dawkins's contempt for all religious
believers illustrates.
Why should we not live in a moral universe on Sundays, and try to
make its values real in the secular moral vacuum through the week?
Until science can finally disprove the value of the concepts of good
and evil, and derive virtues such as love and compassion from an
equation or a drug, we will need great beliefs that leap beyond
science. That is why there will always be Christians entranced with
the idea of a God who stoops.
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