Kevin Sharpe, 'Between the Idea and the Reality' Preface

Between the Idea and the Reality:

God in an Age of Science

Kevin Sharpe

Preface

Most of us had to attend church or synagogue each Sunday or Saturday when we were young. At times, it bored us; at other times, it entranced. The music, perhaps, or the clothes people wore. Or maybe Julie or James in the seat in front caught our attention; someone to stare at and fantasize about. Maybe the minister or priest or rabbi preached a sermon that showed how much he or she really cared or that asked us to consider a new and interesting idea.

Some of us still attend. We enjoy the social nature of religion, the company of others from the community, or the attitudes religion inspires. Fewer people still go frequently. Institutional religions lag behind the times; their archaic attitudes irritate. Their words and actions fail to communicate, and they feel distant from life, even upsetting. Sometimes they compromise tradition for fashion. Despite the good that religion can produce, despite the beautiful people who follow, it pulls us down. We squirm when we go; we feel hypocritical. We'd rather not waste our precious time off.

At the center of religious language lies the word "God." Many of us pass through a religious crisis at some point in our lives and we easily transfer these conflicts to "God." "God" confusion becomes worse when a religion thinks itself better than the others; some claim a monopoly on the word—We have the truth!—as though they compete for the true God. Closer to home, though, consider these:

"God! I've poured bleach over the colored clothes!"

"‘God’ stands for the way in which the upper classes control and hold their power. They use it to make the populace tremble in fear."

"Oh how I love you, God. You've come into my soul and filled me with joy!"

"I believe in God Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth, and in Jesus Christ His only begotten Son...."

The word "God" carries many and often conflicting meanings. Which of the above examples most correctly uses the word "God?" How might someone judge the correct one? Does a standard exist to check them against? Anyway, who or what is God? What's God really like? Where might a person find God? Further, why do so many people claim to deliver God? And why do people create pictures of God? Lots of God images flutter about with no hard and fast way to decide between them. Somehow God and the images of God have become separated.

Because of the confusion and because people differ a lot in what they mean by the G word, I stop using it. Right here. Meanings can turn people off. With my decision, I stop clarifying what I don't mean. Only a fresh start can help answer the questions.

I'd rather not surrender the word altogether, though. It has and has had too much significance in the lives of people I know, in human history and experience to throw away at my whim; rather, I want to look at God without the limits set by religious traditions, bias, culture, or common parlance.

"Significant other" suffers problems at present as a replacement for "husband," "wife," or "spouse." Users intend it to refer to a wider circle of people, a live-in boyfriend or girlfriend for instance, or those in a settled homosexual or lesbian relationship. But it has yet to develop the same sense of permanence as "wife," "husband," or "spouse." Language keeps changing. The meaning of a word can become too restricted and so people coin new ones or resurrect old ones without its problems.

I could similarly create a new word to replace "God." That needs a lot of preparation and luck and PR to embed it into the culture, however; too much to ask at this point. So I prefer to use a synonym, and I opt for the term "Divine," instead. More honestly, I have yet to find a good alternative to "God" as all similar words bring excess meanings. "The Divine" wins as the best I can ferret out at present. It too invokes problems—think of, "Darling, you look divine"—but not as many as "God;" it produces fewer associations. This advantage also produces its weakness: the old word holds many meanings without much explanation, and I lose that strength.

I replace other words too. Tradition would label my work "theology," but, as I avoid using the word "God," so I avoid "theology." Again it carries too much baggage. I employ instead terms like "spiritual thinking" or "spiritual ideas" or "a system of spiritual ideas." Similarly, I use synonyms for words like "religion." "Spirituality" escapes my habit to replace words; it carries its own proper and frequent use, a positive meaning centered on a way of life, which I want to leave untarnished by association with my use of "spiritual."

Not only do I write for those in an orthodox fold and interested in other ways to look at the Divine, but I compose also for people interested in spiritual matters and who have left a fold to search for meaning elsewhere. The words I deploy try to include them. The name "Divine" confuses less than "God" and so should turn off fewer people. I feel strongly about using alternatives.

Now I set myself a task: to reconstruct the word "Divine" so it attains significance. This is difficult to do. I can't salvage the word with an instant system of spiritual ideas. Many thinkers, myself included, have wrestled long and hard with this problem – and the solutions, I believe, remain sterile. So I start again.

After much reflection, I start this reconstruction from two points.

First, I follow a rule in trying to understand the Divine: the Divine is real. The Divine exists. But secularization and the rise of modern science have gradually changed the way people think and feel. They have eroded the belief systems of medieval and earlier Christendom, including people’s feelings of realness about that divinity. Whatever picture I come up with, then, the divinity it depicts must appear real to modern, secularized humanity.

Why do I want to picture the Divine as real? Because, to start with, this is a basic property of the Divine, of any properly functioning divinity. Only a dishonest dealer would sell a car "in good working order" when it didn't have an engine. "The Divine" needs at least the "engine" of realness. Believers accept the realness of their divinity and I follow this to make realness a must for what I concoct. I shy away from fantasy.

When people ask me if I believe in the Divine, I reply "Yes," without hesitation. I then add, "What divinity?" I have yet to endow the word with content. My belief in the Divine's realness leaves open what I mean by "the Divine;" it stops short of explaining what the Divine is. To crave an image that portrays a real divinity assumes nothing further about the Divine.

The second starting point for the new picture of the Divine focuses on the word "secular."

We live in the modern western world with all its corruption, inhumanity, but idealism and hope. And many of us relish it – the universe, our society, and our lives feel good. Most westerners place the centers of their realities here. We live as secular people; our spiritual ideas must build from here. Here is exciting and challenging. The answer to inhumanity and modernity's problems arises from here, we believe, from the secular here, and not from elsewhere. I therefore resist focussing on another world, spiritual or otherwise. The roots of the Divine extend deep into the secular.