Sub Ratione Dei

Altizer: A Twentieth Century Muggletonian?

Earlier today reading through Lissa McCullough's introduction to Thinking Through the Death of God I re-read a quote I have read a number of times before, this being Thomas Altizer's 'confession of faith' in his 1966 debate at the height of the Death of God debate with John Warwick Montgomery:

'God is dead' are words recording a confession of faith. Let me be clear in emphasizing that as far as our intention is concerned, we intend to be speaking in faith ... I think that, if any attention at all is given to these words, it will be seen that they do not represent ordinary atheism. The ordinary atheist, of course, does not believe in God, does not believe that there is now or ever has been a God. But we are attempting to say that God Himself is God, and yet has died as God in Jesus Christ in order to embody himself redemptively in the world. In saying that God is dead we are attempting to say that the transcendent Ground, the ultimate final Ground of the World, life, existence has died ... to make possible final reconciliation of Himself with the world (xvii).

I have said before how I have struggled to understands Altizer's project and a break-through for me was reading his autobiography/theological memoir. Truth be told it is still something I struggle to get my head around and, don't want to spent too much effort on it which is probably why i'm taking on a secondary text on the subject. It is the atheism of Altizer's christian atheism that is all to often focused on but, as a reading of Altizer makes clear eventually shows us what is central to Altizer's atheological project is a particular and absolutely final apocalypse. That apocalypse is the 'incarnation' that spelt the death of religion. Hence Altizer writes that "Christianity became a world religion only by negating its original apocalyptic ground, but if we can understand the ending of Christendom as an apocalyptic ending, that ending could then be understood as the renewal of an original apocalyptic ending, and therewith the renewal of apocalypse itself (2006: 177)."

It is here that Altizer offers a reading of the Christ event that he suggests transcends the Christian narrative, by interiorising the message of the incarnation and Altizer moves beyond the Christendom mindset and in so doing acknowledging God's death but also presenting a far more radical apocalypse than that offered by orthodoxy. As Raschke (5-6) puts it in interpreting Altizer's move "Christ's self sacrifice elsewhere in the New Testament characterized as God's self-emptying, or kenosis, is something far more profound than what is suggested in the Chalcedonian formula of God becoming "man". It points to what is suggested in Hegelian terms is the abrogation, the Aufhebung, of God's eternal self-diremption, the negation of the divine self-negation, which in turn fulfills the concept of the Son as hypostasis. The metaphysical conundrum of co-eternality of Father and Son now becomes explicable in terms of what the author of Hebrews calls "a new and loving way opened for us through the Curtain [of the Holy of Holies] that is his body (Heb 10:20)."

All this is by way of preface to an interesting parallel I noticed in reading the Altizer quote with which I began, namely the functional similarity of the apocalyptic Death of God with the absolute immanence of human God in Muggletonian theology. What follows is a summary of Muggletonian teaching on the incarnation/apocalypse and the absolute assumption of mortality from T L Underwood (15): 

Reeve and Muggleton claimed that the creator entered into the womb of the Virgin Mary, purified her nature, then died and shed his own mortality, quickened himself in pure mortality, and brought himself forth as the first born Son of God. Thus God the Father, who had been a spiritual man, became physical, mortal man, Jesus Christ ... With the crucifixion he died, both physically and spiritually, but then took on immortality again, yet with the same flesh and spirit.

And, this passible, and still absolutely immanent deity would, after the death of the death of God (so to speak) rule in heaven "in the form of a man, Jesus Christ, between five and six feet tall".Given E P Thompson's thesis on Muggletonian influence on William Blake and Blake's own documented influence on Altizer the relationship is not likely to be coincidental. In marked variance of the religious radicals both Altizer and the Muggletonians asserted a non-trinitarian high christology in which actual death of God presaged the Kingdom of God, albeit in the case of the Muggletonians drawing as they did on the Joachite Age of the Spirit this was a more conventional mode of heresy. I am sure more can be made of the social import of the two deaths of God but, I need to understand the Muggletonian context to a much greater extent before really passing comment.

References ...

Thomas J J Altizer, Living the Death of God: A Theological Memoir, SUNY Press, 2006.

Lissa McCullough, Historical Introduction, in Lissa McCullough & Brian Schroeder (Eds), Thinking Through the Death of God: A Critical Companion to Thomas J J Altizer, Suny Press, 2004.

Carl A Raschke, Rending the Veil of the Temple: The Death of God as Sacrificium Representationis, in Lissa McCullough & Brian Schroeder (Eds), Thinking Through the Death of God: A Critical Companion to Thomas J J Altizer, Suny Press, 2004.

T L Underwood, Editor's Introduction, in T L Underwood (Ed.), The Acts of the Witnesses: The Autobiography of Lodowick Muggleton and Other Early Muggletonian Writings, Oxford UP, 1999.

Related

Altizer, Apocalypticism and Modern Thinking (1997).

Faith and Atheism

Following on from my last post Eagleton continues to criticise "Ditchkins" for creating a caricuture of God and of faith. Eagleton's arguments are not ad hominem but they can be churlish but there is also a serious point.  Eagleton writes that there is probably

no greater evidence of Ditchkins's theological illiteracy than the fact that he appears to subscribe to what one might call the Yeti view of belief in God. I mean by this the view that God is the sort of entity for which, like the Yeti, the Loch Ness monster, or the lost city of Atlantis, the evidence we have so far is radically ambiguous, not to say sownright dubious; and because we cannot thus demonstrate God's existence in the reasonably straightforward way we can demonstrate the existence of necrophilia or Michael Jackson, we have to put up instead with somethin less than certainty, known as faith (p. 110-111).

More recently in response to those who criticise Dawkins et al for theological illiteracy Edmund Standing in an article reposted on richarddawkins.net argues in like manner (incidentally, although I'm critical here Standing is worth reading). Here's Standing on the nature of theology:

The essence of theology is neatly summed up in a well known definition given by St. Anselm of Canterbury (1033-1109): fides quaerens intellectum (faith seeking understanding). In fact, as a theological student, this was the first definition of theology that I was taught. The notion of 'faith seeking understanding' demonstrates clearly how intellectually vacuous theology is, and how low its credibility should be as an academic pursuit (in the sense of actively engaging in its production, as opposed to its purely academic study as part of the history of ideas). Theology turns the scientific method which we have followed since the Enlightenment upon its head. Where scientific research may start with a reasonable proposition based on prior evidence (a hypothesis) and then examine further data to see if this proposition is factually accurate, or may simply lead to the discovery of data which no-one had previously predicted, theology starts with the acceptance of ideas that have no factual basis or for which the evidence is appallingly weak and proudly proclaims acceptance of these ideas on the basis of 'faith' as a virtue, and then goes on to attempt to make these a priori beliefs appear intelligible and rational. In other words, the 'results' of theology have been arrived at before study to confirm them has taken place. The theologian does not approach the basic tenets of Christian faith as possible truths to be tested for logical consistency; he or she instead begins with the conclusion that a series of internally incoherent, pre-scientific, and fantastic 'beliefs' derived from 'faith' are true, and then attempts to dress these beliefs up in the clothes of intellectual credibility. Theology is not in this sense a proper academic pursuit, but is instead the attempt to mask superstition in a fog of pseudo-intellectual verbiage. 

Eagleton is I think correct when he argues that "faith is performative rather than propositional" (p. 111). It is, as Eagleton continues the case that though Christians (most at least) believe in God but as a proposition apart from the subject is next to useless. Rather, as Eagleton suggests, the existence of an entity called God is not what the creed means when it begins "I believe in God", instead it "resembles an utterance like "I have faith in you" more than it does a statement like "I have a steadfast conviction that some goblins are gay" (p. 111).

Married to the Mafia: Why Religulous Works

I have mixed feelings about Bill Maher's Religulous. There is, I think, something of a tension running throughout Maher's documentary. In an opening scene set in a Trucker's chapel and he gives some pretty standard questions. When challenged he responds that he has one agenda: doubt. His gospel, Maher explains, is the gospel of "I don't know".

However, before long the critical agnosticism morphs into acerbic incredulity at all religious belief. Religion is quickly portrayed as being synonymous with talking snakes and humans having dinosaurs as their next door neighbours. Even when Maher does get more reasonable interviewees such as Francis Collins (who has been in the news for other reasons recently) it appears that we do not have a interview so much as an hack job, the Catholic Herald has more on this angle of Maher's effort. In other words, the gospel of I don't know like so many of the interviews seems to have been left on the cutting room floor. In it's place one is left with an apologetic rant. And, Maher does this well with a great deal of humour. 

Maher picks his targets well, we have the second coming of Jesus (apparently), the creation museum detailing the science behind human-dinosaur cohabitation and talking snakes, and ex-gay ministries etc. As James Mcgrath has noted some of the argument is as incredulous as his subjects.  However, on reflection I find myself more ambivalent regarding the film.

Like many Christians on viewing the film I had the same reaction to many. This is nothing but a parody of the faith of millions, it does not reflect the the actual beliefs of many, it is a straw man critique. In this sense Matthew's comment reflected my belief:

It’s because they make all of these arguments that defeat what they perceive religion and the case for God to be.  Meanwhile, anybody who has studied philosophy or theology in the slightest sits back, listens, and at the end are left thinking…so what?  They never even touch the real questions.  They just set up these juvenile straw men and then convincingly knock them down in front of their own cameras.  Very impressive.  All the while they reveal their total misunderstanding of the theists case.

Matthew continues by linking to one catholic priest's critique of Religulous which I included below: 

In terms of broad brush-stokes he is obviously right, the religion of Religulous is not the same as the religion of so many of Christianity's adherents. It is not a big stretch on Fr Barron's epistemology to say that faith is in a symbiotic relationship to doubt - the certainty against which Maher takes aim is not intrinsic to faith. But the difficulty is while all this is true it does not excuse the fact that for many of those interviewed in the film the mocking description of their faith Maher puts to the audience was an accurate description of their belief and I don't think one would have to search too hard to find similar views nearby.

And this is where I am somewhat more sympathetic to Maher's presentation. While the dominant motif of Religulous is an all-round anti-religious piss-take the minor and more humble facet which I alluded to earlier does re-appear at the end. It is here I think that Religulous does raise a valid point.

Here's Maher's closing sequence:

Watch Religulous - Ending Montage in Activism & Non-Profit  |  View More Free Videos Online at Veoh.com

It is easy to criticise Maher's characterisation of faith as anti-rational as "making a virtue out of not thinking" but there is still an argument to be had. In particular I thinking of Maher's characterisation of moderate religious people as being "mafia wives" (c. 4m 15s onwards) . Those who through acquiescence allow the terror in the name of God to perpetuate.

Sam Harris in his illiberal diatribe on religion argues in a similar vein:

Of course, people of faith fall on a continuum: some draw solace and inspiration from a specific spiritual tradition, and yet remain fully committed to tolerance and diversity [contrary, one may add, to Harris' position], while others would burn  the earth to cinders if it would put an end to heresy. There are, in other words, religious moderates and religious extremists, and their various passions and projects should not be confused. One of the central themes of this book, however, is that religious moderates are themselves the bearers of a terrible dogma: they imagine that the path to peace will be paved once each of us has learned to respect the unjustified beliefs of others. (The End of Faith, 14-15).

Harris goes on to suggest that the religious moderate is intellectually dishonest and Maher, although not going so far argues in a similar fashion. They're wrong for it suggest that traditionally fundamentalism is the norm from which moderates are rebelling. But, as I think Dan itimated a few days ago, there is a line at which boundaries of identity are crossed. So, here's the question: unlike Maher analogy I don't think we should be resigning in disgust but perhaps we should be asking some other to leave?

Perhaps, notwithstanding the crass manipulation of sources, the first responce to Religulous should not be defence but acknowleding maher may have a point.

Eagleton on Ditchkins and Christianity

I have been reading through Eagleton's Reason, Faith, and Revolution: Reflections on the God Debate (UK Link) after it has been getting some favourable comments elsewhere. I can't say I have been overwhelmed with the book but it is thus far been an enjoyable read.

At times Eagleton on Ditchkins (a conflation of Hitchens and Dawkins - although with some Dennett and Grayling thrown in) is highly acerbic such as this gem:

The truth is that many secular intellectuals with a reasonably sophisticated sense of what goes on in academic areas than their own tout an abysmally crude, infantile version of what theology has traditionally maintained. These days, theology is the queen of sciences in a rather less august sense of the word "queen" than in its medieval heyday ... As far as theology goes, Ditchkins has an enormous amount in common with Ian Paisley and American TV evangelists. Both parties agree pretty much on what religion consists in; it is just that Ditchkins rejects it while Pat Robertson and his unctuous crew grow fat on it. (p. 49-50, 51).

But, and this is to the book's significant credit, this acerbic wit is not directed solely to Ditchkins. A few pages later Eagleton asserts that it is on Christianity itself that the responsibility lies:

Yet it is most certainly Christianity itself which is primarily responsible for the intellectual sloppiness of its critics. Apart from the signal instance of Stalinism, it is hard to think of a historical movement that has more squalidlybetrayed its own revolutionary origins. Christianity long ago shifted from the side of the poor and dispossessed to that of the rich and aggressive. The liberal establishment really has little to fear from it and little to gain. For the most part, it has become the creed of the suburban well-to-do, not the astonishing promise offered to the riffraff and undercover anticolonial militants with whom Jesus himself hung out. (p. 55).

When Theology Mattered ...

Over on An und für sich they have posted an old documentary on Death of God theology by a precursor of PBS. I recommend you pop over and view this it is interesting viewing. In the preamble to the video Brad writes

It is refreshing to see depicted a time in which theology truly mattered, but also disturbing to see that its “mattering” (as something discussed in the media, if nothing else) has little effect on its lay reception.

Since then of course similar pressure has been put on faculty to quit because of their outrageous and heretical views (Peter Enns, for example) without the associated media following. Conversely however I think of another Time feature - the award of America's "best" theologian to Stanley Hauerwas in 2001 (another more recent example being the Rowan Williams "Shariagate"). Theology does often matter in the media bu not when it really matters ... post 9/11 I somehow doubt Hauerwas but have been seen as favourably (especially by Elhstain!). In any case, watch the video. 

Bertrand Russell: Why I am Not a Christian (1927)

Note: I have also discovered that Russell's essay is available online here.

What is a Christian?
Russell begins his essay by trying to make some comment on what constitutes a Christian. Russell starts by arguing that in the mental worldview of St Augustine and St Aquinas a Christian was one who "accepted a whole collection of creeds which set out with great precision, and every syllable of those creeds [are] believed with the whole strength of [one's] convictions. Russell thinks that there is some diminishing of this rigorousness. Nonetheless, Russell believes that there are two lowest common denominators to be described as a Christian:

i) you must believe in God and immortality

ii)  "you must have at the very least the belief that Christ was, if not divine, at least the best and wisest of men" (p. 2). 

Theistic Proofs
Next Russell discusses what he considers the problems with the various `proofs of God's existence'. I will not outline the content of this because frankly such discussions bore the pants of me and such a display of public nakedness would be a cruel act to the innocent public!

The Character of the Christ
Perhaps the most interesting and troubling accusation for the Christian is Russell's discussion of his reading of Jesus' ethical outlook. Russell starts by saying that Jesus does have many useful, if not unique, things to say (even though he somewhat incoherently says that he doubts Jesus existed and is certainly not - historically - knowable). In particular Russell highlights Jesus' teaching on non-resistance, not rushing to judgement, and charity to the poor.

However, for Russell Jesus is certainly not the "best and wisest of men". For one Jesus seems to to be notably lacking in wisdom in his mistaken belief that he would soon return to earth after his death in glory on the clouds. More importantly however Russell argues that Jesus had one very serious moral defect, namely he believed in hell. Russell summarises his view when he explained that "I do not myself feel that any person who is really profoundly humane can believe in everlasting punishment." Russell is pretty forthright in his distaste for Jesus' message of punishment:

I must say that I think all this doctrine, that hell-fire is a punishment for sin, is a doctrine of cruelty. It is a doctrine that put cruelty into the world and gave the world generations of cruel torture; and the Christ of the Gospels, if you could take Him as His chroniclers represent Him, would certainly have to be considered partly responsible for that.

The Character of the Church
Moving on from his dislike of some of Jesus' ethics Russell is across the board scathing for the conduct of the church. Russell is quite clear that Christianity does not make people better. Indeed, he suggests exactly the opposite:

the more intense has been the religion of any period and the more profound has been the dogmatic belief, the greater has been the cruelty and the worse has been the state of affairs. In the so-called ages of faith, when men really did believe the Christian religion in all its completeness, there was the inquisition, with its tortures; there were millions (sic) of unfortunate women burnt as witches; and there was every kind of cruelty practised upon all sorts of people in the name of religion (p. 16).

Arguing against the view that Christianity is not a progressive argument argues that what passes for Christian morality is often causes human misery, in particular Russell cites Catholic sexual ethics. The reason that in spite of its failings the Church still remains is because of the Church's manipulation of people's fear:

Religion is based, I think, primarily and mainly upon fear. It is partly the terror of the unknown , and partly, as I have said, the wish to feel that you have a kind of elder brother who will stand by you in all your troubles and disputes. Fear is the basis of the whole thing - fear of the mysterious, fear of defeat, fear of death. Fear is the parent of cruelty, and therefore it is no wonder if cruelty and religion has gone hand-in-hand. It is because fear is the base of those two things (p. 18).

In true modernist style there is an answer to be found to all this evil based on fear, and that is in the realm of science. I will again let Russell speak:

In this world we can now begin a little to understand things, and a little to master them by the help of science, which has forced its way step by step against the Christian religion, against the Churches, and against the opposition of all the old precepts. Science can help us to get over this craven fear in which mankind has lived for so many generations. Science can teach us, and I think our own hearts can teach us, no longer to look around for imaginary supports, no longer to invent allies in the sky, but rather to look to our own efforts here below to make this world a fit place to live in, instead of the sort of place that the churches in all these centuries have made it.

Comment
It is clearly unfair to criticise Russell for the alarmingly optimistic characterisation and polarisation of science, this was after all presented in 1927. I will however offer a brief comment on a couple of points as they arise from me. As a Christian reading a negative portrayal of one's faith there is a natural urge to defend one's position. I will not try to do this.

Russell began with his answer to the question "what is a Christian". This is clearly an emotive question and one's answer clearly determines one's view of Christianity. Russell's characterisation is I think a more generous one and I think his move away from a strict creedal orthodoxy is a positive one. I am sure that of his two conditions the first is now the most suspect; Christian non-realists would I think falter at this juncture and I certainly not want to label them as not being Christians. The latter clause is surely something important in its explicit focus on Jesus being "the best and wisest of men". Even here though is there not something missing? A Christian on Russell's account is one is someone who believes two propositions, one about the nature of post-mortem existence and divine existence and the other about the moral character of Jesus of Nazareth. It is not apparently got anything to do with taking that moral worldview as being in any way determinative for how one should live. Of course, that is not to say Christianity is a list of do's or don'ts but that does not take away from the fact that Christianity must at least in some sense claim for its own Jesus' vision of the Kingdom which in many respects is precisely those aspects of Jesus' moral view that Russell applauded.

With regard to Hell I confess to at least being partially sympathetic to Russell's concerns, if Hell is viewed as a place of punishment then an eternal punishment for a finite life does seem unfair. However, the extent to which Jesus can be sent to have affirmed an eternal torment can at least be questioned. While the language of eternity is used (eg. Mt 9:48) elsewhere there is a more annihilationist tone (eg,  Mt 10:28). However, while reading  Russell's critique disregarding Jesus Ethic I was reminded of Volf's discussion of God's wrath (sorry I've brought him up again!). Volf writes

I used to think that wrath was unworthy of God. Isn't God love? Shouldn't divine love be beyond wrath? God is love, and God loves every person and every creature. That's exactly why God is wrathful against some of them. My last resistance to the idea of God's wrath was a casualty of the war in the former Yugoslavia, the region from which I come. According to some estimates, 200,000 people were killed and over 3,000,000 were displaced. My villages and cities were destroyed, my people shelled day in day out, some of them brutalized beyond imagination, and I could not imagine God not being angry.

With this in mind the idea of Hell seems somewhat more accessible, indeed humane! As to Russell's last criticism, notwithstanding the science as modern man's salvation diatribe, I am broadly with him. However, much of that which he criticises has repeatedly been criticised within the christian tradition as well, it is to a great extent the criticism of the Constantinian mindset (can you tell I read Hauerwas!). However, I started by saying that a Christian should not be defined by just her affirmation of certain propositional truths. This, I think, also speaks to Russell's criticism of the Church in history (I note however that those Russell is criticising is not the Church per se but the ecclesiastical-political hierarchy). It does not just take Russell to criticise the Church the ethic of Jesus that should be constitutive of Christian identity is itself an indictment of those excesses and evil when held against the Church Russell is criticising.

   

Related Tags: Philosophy, Christianity, Bertrand Russell, Atheism, Hell