Prelude:

Is God Really Dead?

Since the Enlightenment, people have thought that organized religion was doomed to extinction. Rational and empirical thought were believed to be sufficient to solve the mysteries of the universe leaving no necessary role for God. This attitude is still prevalent today and is well represented by my friend Doug Mann who writes:

So Nietzsche was right. God seen as the big patriarch in the sky hurling fire at bushes and tablets of commandments at prophets, for many of us is just an old fable that ruder and more barbarous people believed to console themselves before the mysteries of the universe were explained.... There may be new deities waiting in the wings, deities without gender, vengefulness, and the need to oppress non-believers; without any real characteristics at all. But the old thundering and judging Christian god has quietly passed away, at least as a social reality. His obituary can be found in the death notices in your local paper, right after the religion section.⁽¹⁾

Many well educated people believe that God (at least the Judeo-Christian God) is dead and can no longer play a vital role in our daily lives because the religious model of truth has been replaced by a scientific one. Does such a characterization really ring true? Obviously not. In the US, there is a church on every street corner- and they are well attended. Most churches are Protestant or non-denominational, but Catholicism is alive and well in the US; it's biggest crises is a shortage of clergy. In the face of the coming end of the millennium, many churches are bursting at the seams, unable to accommodate new members.

Not only is God alive and well, He is a powerful social and political force. The fanfare, excitement, and attendance surrounding the Pope's visit make clear the vitality of American Catholicism. Many Catholics cast their votes according to the principles of their faith, and for this reason abortion and death penalty issues continue to set the tone in American politics. Moreover, the conservative Christian right is a formidable political force that cannot be ignored. In spite of the fact that we endorse the separation of church and state, on every bill of our currency the words "in God we trust" are printed. Moreover, God is mentioned often by any politician interested in keeping his job. It is significant that the president never ends a speech without saying "God bless America." or "God bless you and good night." God lives. His churches live. His faithful are a formidable force, wielding tremendous power in this country.

And yet it seems that God should be dead. After all, haven't we explained the mysteries of the universe with a better and more powerful model, that of modern science? Doesn't science work better than prayer for healing illnesses, creating weapons of mass destruction, and making computers? Never mind the phenomenon of paradigm shifts in ethics, aesthetics, and physics. Isn't it at least conceivable that we can arrive at Truth using a scientific paradigm? Our intuitions, even those of the most Christian among us, is that science is an excellent model for truth. If the mysteries of the universe have not been solved, there is at least hope that one day they could be. So why this need for the Christian myth? Why is the belief in God so tenacious? My friend Doug has an answer:

What more seductive reward than a happy immortality could religion offer to those reluctant to swallow its many theological absurdities?...In truth the belief in God is most strongly supported by a fear of the unknown and an almost universal need for spiritual and moral guidance.⁽²⁾

Obviously to some extent this is true. It is comforting to believe in an after-life as we approach the infirmity of old-age. Nevertheless, many intelligent people swallow the "theological absurdities" of religion for better if not more compelling reasons than the fear of death. In the Postmodern age, belief in the supernatural has become less absurd because of the notion that all of our most dearly held convictions are grounded in nothing but coherence with our web of beliefs and faith. Many philosophers have abandoned the project of justifying our moral, aesthetic, and scientific values in an independent metaphysical or epistemological order. We have exchanged talk of the "essential nature of reality" for "useful descriptions of the world." This has come about largely because of the recognition that paradigm shifts occur in every area of our knowledge. What we once held to be absolutely true is now "known" to be false. This is not merely a question of our theories becoming more accurate as they creep ever closer to the elusive Truth. Our truth models are completely altered, representing the kind of difference of perspective between Ptolemy and Newton. Our descriptions of the world change drastically from one generation to the next. We are therefore less convinced of our ability to achieve Truth; many have abandoned the notion that the world has an essential nature to which descriptions of it can correspond. In Contingency, Irony, and Solidarity , Richard Rorty says:

Truth cannot be out there- cannot exist independently of the human mind- because sentences cannot so exist, or be out there. Only descriptions of the world can be true or false. The world on its own, unaided by the describing activities of human beings, cannot.⁽³⁾

In the postmoderm world, truth is not "out there," it is contingent upon the interpreter and his community. The only yardstick by which to measure the validity of a belief is its coherence with other accepted beliefs. We cannot check to see if a belief "corresponds" to the way the world "really is."

Postmodern thought is the descendant of early pragmatism. In his famous essay The Will to Believe, William James explores the importance of faith in the areas of knowledge we take to be the most grounded. He defends faith in God on the grounds that it is no less absurd than faith in the absolute Truth of modern science given the history of paradigm shifts. He writes:

Here in this room, we all of us believe in molecules and in the conservation of energy, in democracy, and necessary progress...all for no reasons worthy of the name. We see into these matters with no more inner clearness, and probably much less, than any disbeliever in them might possess. The prestige of these opinions is what makes the sparks shoot form them and light up our sleeping magazines of faith. ... Our faith is faith in someone else's faith, and in the greatest matters, this is most the case. ... We want to believe we have a truth; we want to believe that our experiments and studies and discussions must put us in a continually better and better position toward it... But if a pyrronistic skeptic asks us how we know all this, can our logic find a reply? No! certainly it cannot. It is just one volition against another- we willing to go in for a life upon a trust and assumption which he, for his part, does not care to make."⁽⁴⁾

The Vocabulary of "God-Talk" and "Science-Talk"

Many literary theorists have stopped talking about the essential meaning of texts and now see meaning as the relationship between the reader, the text, and an interpretive community. The meaning of texts is attributed by the reader and her context and is not inherent in the text. Although the reader's context limits the possibilities of interpretation, meaning is created, not discovered. In the same way, meaning in the world (life experience) is created by the reader and the context she is born into and not inherent in the essence of reality. In such a world, there is room for god and the sacred because all reality is based on a reading that can be taken seriously for no better reason than that the description is coherent with one's web of beliefs and that one has faith.

Postmodern thinkers speak of scientific or moral truth models in terms of vocabularies that are useful for describing the world. These models (or vocabularies) are mere tools that are dispensable if another is found to be more suitable for the same purpose. In the postmodern world, the universe can be described using many different vocabularies. There are two vocabularies in particular that are often believed to be incompatible with each other. I shall call these two vocabularies "Science-talk" and "God-talk." For millennia, people have been finding uses for "God-talk," but since the Enlightenment "Science-talk" has grown in acceptance. Recently, many tough-minded, rational people absolutely refuse to speak "God-talk. " Some people feel that it is impossible to accept one vocabulary without rejecting the other. This is a mistake that has its roots in the notion that it is possible to translate all ideas from one language into another. This is clearly not the case. A native tribe of Oregon, for example, could have up to 1500 different terms to refer to "rain." Obviously, it is impossible to translate such concepts into a language in use by the indigenous peoples of San Diego. Their language is incapable of accommodating such foreign concepts and would have no use for such fine distinctions. It is also true that native speakers of Italian have a sense of humor so linked to the medium of their language that it cannot be translated into English. Rough, broad concepts come across in translation, but the finer more humorous points have no equivalent in our language. In the same way, it is impossible to translate much of the vocabulary of "God-talk" into "Science-talk," and vice versa. There is no scientific equivalent for "love," "grace" or "original sin." Likewise, "God-talk" cannot accommodate ideas like "evolution," "big bang," or "relativity theory." Each language describes the world, but it does so with different vocabulary, vocabulary that is untranslatable from one language to the other. The problem seems to be that some "God-talk" vocabulary can be translated into "Science-talk" (just like most Italian words can be translated into English) and so people mistakenly think that there should be "God-talk" equivalents for every word in "Science-talk" (and vice versa). When people find this is not the case, they point to the deficiencies of either "God-talk" or "Science-talk." People seem to think that there must be a super vocabulary that can account for all ideas represented in both languages or that every language must be reducible to another.

Postmodernists have given up on discovering a super-vocabulary that describes the way things "really are" or that takes into account every vocabulary that can be used to describe the world. They find that both "God-talk" and "Science-talk" are limited and unable to describe many aspects of human experience. Postmodern speakers of "God-talk," for example, often find it more useful than "Science-talk" for describing the human experience, citing the fact that equating human emotion to specific chemical reactions may be coherent and useful in some contexts, but worthless for describing the actual experience of being human. Nevertheless, speakers of "God-talk" often use "Science-talk" when it is convenient to do so; i.e. when they need to make a calculation or a prediction about the physical world. A vocabulary defines one's world-view and determines the course of action that will be taken when problem-solving. The difference between psychologists and psychiatrists, for instance, is that they use different vocabularies to describe psychological problems. Psychologists account for emotional problems in terms of family history, personal interactions, and habits of thought, while psychiatrists describe them as chemical imbalance. As a result, psychologists talk, and psychiatrists medicate. Psychiatrists do not receive training in psychology, and psychologists do not have an education that would permit them to prescribe medication. The jury is still out on which approach works better. Obviously, both vocabularies work in a limited way. A mentally ill person would be well advised to seek help from both camps, in spite of the fact that they disagree on how to describe and treat the problem. It would be unwise to commit oneself to one world-view without considering the benefits of the other. In fact many people do consult both psychiatrists and psychologists, Western physicians and naturopaths, osteopaths and chiropractors. Many patients find that sometimes one approach works better, and sometimes the other. Openness to switching vocabularies and world-views when it is useful to do so would seem a wise course of action. This is precisely the attitude of the postmodernist.

We See the World we Make

The postmodern view of meaning is particularly appealing given how clear it is that we create the world we live in by believing in the meaning we attribute to it. The end of the millennium, for instance, will be significant not only because of the Y2K computer bug, but because of the mass hysteria surrounding the anticipation of this problem. We have created a crisis by our reaction to a mere possibility. Whether or not computers will cause measurable problems is irrelevant. The anxiety that this fear has provoked is as tangible as any scientific measurement. Likewise, media coverage can turn what might be described as non-events into history-making phenomena. The Barbara Walters interview with Monica Lewinsky could have been portrayed as yet another boring description of what transpired between Bill and Monica. Now, however, because this interview was broadcast all over the country, because it coincided with the release of a tell-all book, and because it was covered as a "top story" by all local news stations (in which the audience could call in and vote on how much or little they now liked Monica) and has already been deemed to be Barbara Walter's legacy, a monumental event in the history of a nation. Significantly, it could just as easily have been ignored or described as an uninteresting conversation. In a very real sense, we create the world we live in. This is not to say that individuals are free to live in any world they choose. Obviously this is not the case. It is only to say that ideas become significant because of the importance attributed to them by us and by our community.

A postmodern world-view does not imply a commitment to the notion that all beliefs are on the same plane. It cannot be shown that relativism is superior to an ethnocentric or democratic description of reality. True, from the postmodern perspective, there is no epistemological justification for any world-view- whether Christian, Nazi, or democratic- but from this it does not follow that they are all equal and deserve equal consideration and respect. We have two criteria for judging the worthiness of a belief: (1) whether or not it is acceptable to the interpretive community of which we are a part, and (2) whether it is coherent with our web of beliefs. If the idea is unacceptable or incoherent, it can safely be dismissed.

As Rawls points out in A Theory of Justice,"no general moral conception can provide the basis for a public conception of justice." But by these lights, no postmodern general moral conception can be the basis for a radical relativism either. For Rorty, democracy needs no justification, only articulation. Since attempts to ground democracy and morality in some independent metaphysical order have failed, it is rational to abandon efforts to justify them. It is enough to coherently describe our beliefs. We need to recognize democracy for what it is, a religion. I don't mean this in a disparaging way. I only mean that there is no way out of this dilemma. In the postmodern world, democracy is as much a matter of faith as belief in God. But one's faith can be very strong. One need not be religious or an Enlightenment-style philosopher to believe in the righteousness of democracy or in the decency of moral behavior. One must only have faith.

Religion in the Postmodern Age

The word "religion" comes from the Latin word "religare," which means to bind back or to bind together. Binding is a function of religion that forms community. A religion is any system of beliefs, practices, and ethical values held by a community. According to this definition, humanism is a religion. Humanists mistakenly believe that their system of thought is grounded in something firmer than faith, but post-modern philosophers have shown that this is a delusion. Acceptance of the correspondence theory of truth, an important tenet of Enlightenment-humanism, is as much a matter of faith as the conviction that Jesus Christ is my personal savior. Attempts to ground scientific knowledge in a correspondence relationship with the essence of reality, have failed. Given the failure of the correspondence theory of truth, it is likewise true that Christians are as deluded as humanists, because like humanists they assume a correspondence model for truth. Christians and humanists both believe that their vocabularies represent the only "true" way to describe reality. For the postmodernist, the humanist and Christian perspectives are both wrong, not because she rejects Christian or humanist vocabularies, but because she rejects a correspondence model of truth. For the postmodernist, the world does not have a true essence to which descriptions of it can correspond. The world, like any text, is plastic. Meaning is created by the reader and her interpretive community, and is not inherent in the text itself. As such, a scientific vocabulary can be useful for some purposes, and a religious vocabulary for others. The postmodernist need not abandon "God-talk" or "Science-talk," only talk of Absolute Truth.

The Utility of God-Talk

Given the permissibility of "God-talk" in our postmodern world (provided we do not fall into talk of Absolute Truth) what can such a vocabulary do for us? If we speak "God-talk" without having faith in the notion that ours is the only true vocabulary to describe the world, why is it useful to employ this language?

Christianity, like all religions, abounds with symbols. Being a Christian is much like being a symbolist poet in the 19th century. Every element of nature points to something beyond itself. To see the world in this way impregnates it with a deep sense of meaning and purpose unavailable to those monolingual speakers of "Science-talk." To appreciate how "God-talk" can enhance the human experience, it is important to recognize the difference between a sign and a symbol. A sign (called a signifier in Saussurian terms) is relatively transparent, having a well defined meaning (signified) attached to it. A symbol is different because its meaning is not as concrete. It points to something that is not rigorously definable. John Baldock writes in The Elements of Christian Symbolism:

A true symbol differs from a sign in that what it expresses is ultimately intangible. The symbol itself might well be tangible, an instantly recognizable object or concept but there is frequently no obvious or visible relationship between the symbol and what it expresses. If we endeavor to create a tangible reality of the mystery it symbolizes, we will forever be turning symbols into signs. For a symbol to remain a symbol we must accept that what it expresses will remain a mystery...In other words, when we transcend the outer, tangible appearance of the symbol we encounter the transcendent reality which expresses itself through it⁽⁵⁾.

Typically, signs are used in "Science-talk" and symbols abound in "God-talk." The word "blood" taken as a sign in "Science-talk" refers to that stuff in our bodies that carries oxygen. In "God-talk" the word "blood" is deeply symbolic and points to sacrifice, life-force, and crucifixion. It is the spiritual drink of the faithful, and consuming the blood of Christ amounts to communion with Him. Of course other things could be said about "blood" because there are numerous concepts associated with it. The beauty of a religious symbol, like a poem, is that it cannot be accurately translated into a series of signs. A symbol points to something beyond itself. It is ambiguous and mysterious, lacking a definite signified. Religion understood as a system of symbols which bind people together in community, offers more than a model to describe the universe and our experience in it. It also suggests the possibility of purpose and meaning, two concepts that "Science-talk" doesn't have in its vocabulary. It is also true that Christian ethics offer a means of justifying the sacrifices one is forced to make as a moral citizen, i.e. renouncing aggression, selfishness, and lust. The tenets "blessed are the meek" and "the meek shall inherit the earth" encourage the faithful to accept their failures, lack of confidence, and mediocrity, making a virtue out of what might be considered a vice outside of a Christian context. Suddenly an average life-experience takes on a kind of meaning that it could not otherwise have. One who tolerates the affronts of the aggressive or who resists the temptations of the flesh can feel better knowing that he will be rewarded for his patience in the kingdom of heaven. But the eternal reward for suffering endured provides something more than just a recompense, it supplies a meaning for that suffering. Suffering takes on a special significance. It becomes a symbol which points to a truth outside of time and space. A life endured becomes a beautiful and meaningful mystery.

One of the greatest benefits of "God-talk" is that it allows one to find community and understanding with others through the manipulation of symbolic language. Certainly there are other benefits, such as moral guidance, but morality does not belong solely to the realm of the religious. Monolingual speakers of "Science-talk" can also be upstanding citizens, who have not the slightest need to refer their moral beliefs to a religious doctrine. Religion more than anything else seems to give the human experience a deeper sense of meaning and purpose. As such, it seems very unlikely that people will stop speaking "God-talk" any time soon, because the alternative vocabulary is unequipped to do the same kind of work.

By these lights, can it be said that monolingual speakers of "Science-talk" live empty and meaningless lives? Perhaps- but it is unlikely that there are many monolinguists among us. Most people who don't speak "God-talk" do imbibe on a regular basis in what I shall call "Poetry-talk". I shall argue that there is no essential difference between "God-talk" and "Poetry-talk" except that many speakers of "God-talk" are also deluded correspondence-truth theorists, while speakers of "Poetry-talk" have not the slightest interest in Truth, which from the postmodern perspective is very healthy. One does not ask, for example, whether or not a poem is true. Certainly a good poem points to a kind of truth, which is why some poems can be experienced as sublime. Poetry (and art in general), however, is in no way is committed to a literal or "correspondence theory" model of truth. To look for this sort of truth in art would be to miss the point.

The Poetic Nature of "God-talk" and the Divinity of "Poetry-talk"

"Poetry-talk" is an interesting term because it is not clear what poetry really is. Hundreds of years of attempting to define it have born no fruits. Poetry, like all art, fails to meet the criteria of any definition, no matter how broad. Any bit of writing can be poetic if it is placed in a "poetic context." This is the case with any art form. A toilet placed behind a glass in a museum can be appreciated as a piece of art No one understood this better than Andy Warhol. A general attribute of most poetry, however, is that it relies heavily on the use of symbolic or metaphoric language. Metaphor is often (but not always) employed in a poetic context. An example of the use of metaphor can be found in Baudelaire's famous sonnet "Le Revenant," or "The Ghost."

Like angels who have bestial eyes
I'll come again to your alcove
And glide in silence to your side
In the shadows of the night, my love
And I will give to my dark mate
Cold kisses frigid as the moon,
And I'll caress you like a snake
That slides and writhes around a tomb.
When the livid morning breaks
You will find no one in my place,
And feel a chill till night is near.
Some others by their tenderness
May try to guide your youthfulness,
Myself I want to rule by fear.

I will not delve into the meaning of this beautiful poem. Suffice it to say that the reader does not have to posit the existence of "real" ghosts here. The kind of ghost Baudelaire's poem suggests is the obsessional sort that haunts people in their thoughts. Nor does the speaker actually visit his "dark mate" in the form of a snake or give her cold kisses. This metaphoric description points to something else, which anybody who has been "haunted" will understand, and anyone who has not, will not.

This complex poem could be paraphrased in thousands of different ways. As hard as we might try (and as much as some literary critics might like to believe), it cannot be satisfactorily translated into unmetaphoric language such that a consensus as to its True meaning will be achieved. This is precisely the point of poetry. It expresses something about life which cannot be translated into the literal language of "Science-talk." It gives ordinary life experience an impression of depth and beauty. One who suffers from the kind of haunting described by Baudelaire, will also experience a sense of community with other afflicted individuals upon reading this poem. In this way poetry can achieve the same ends as religion, which is to bind together (religare) individuals in community through the manipulation of symbolic language, infusing life-experience with meaning. The experience of the world-text can be understood in terms presented in the poetic or religious text. This is in fact exactly what all religions do. They provide a poetic text (the Bible, the Koran, the Bagavadgita etc.) which provides a symbolic context by which to read the world-text. This symbolic background or context allows one to create a meaningful and purposeful life- experience.

Symbolic texts, whether religious, poetic, dramatic, or otherwise artistic, fulfill the same need in human beings. This is perhaps why we find that so much poetry includes religious imagery. Religious symbols lend themselves perfectly to poetic discourse. Even Baudelaire's poem, which on the surface seems quite irreligious, makes ample use of religious imagery. Angels and snakes are two obvious Judeo/Christian symbols. The religious text, like the poetic text, can be interpreted literally; but it need not be. For many Christians, to ask whether or not the story in Genesis is literally true is as absurd as asking about the veracity of Baudelaire's poem. Genesis expresses something about the meaning of human experience, and need not be read as an historical account. The significance to Christians and Jews of the events described in Genesis is important; the events themselves are not.

But, one might argue, if poetry fulfills the same function as religion and cannot be rigorously distinguished from it, how does it follow that most speakers of "Science-talk" are not living dry and empty lives? Speakers of "Science-talk" do not go home at night and open their volumes of Baudelaire to infuse their sterile existences with purpose and meaning. However, fortunately for all of us, most speakers of any vocabulary have access to a radio or television set. Popular culture is an excellent source of contemporary poetry and art. Through it we are bound together (religare) in community by a common manipulation of symbolic language. We come to an understanding of what it is to be human by listening to poetry (often in the form of popular music), watching movies, and reading books. Art (even popular art) provides meaning and purpose- it is the highest expression of humanity. It need not be beautiful, nor particularly good (whatever we might mean by that)- it need only be understood by someone to be significant and applicable to his life-project.

I would argue that there is no essential difference between religious worship and the appreciation of any form of art. Worship is an important activity in popular culture. Pop singers, movie stars, sports heros and authors take on the status of gods in our culture and constitute a pop-pantheon. People gather in huge numbers to hear live from the mouth of the living god the same music that they have recorded at home.⁽⁶⁾ One may even experience a form of religious transcendence at such gatherings. Ecstasy, devotion, and transcendence are common to religious and popular events. Religious leaders, like pop stars, enjoy the same degree of devotion by their faithful, who find their message profoundly relevant to their lives.

Conclusion

In this paper I have argued that "Science-talk" and "God-talk" are two separate vocabularies that do very different things. It is important to recognize that "God-talk" is not reducible to "Science-talk," and vice versa. Because these two vocabularies do such different kind of work, it is unlikely that one will ever replace the other.

I have also argued that those who refuse to speak "God-talk" need not live meaningless and purposeless lives. Any connoisseur of popular culture (or any form of art) engages in his own kind of worship. When we manipulate the vocabulary of "Poetry-talk" (or any sort of "Art-talk") we come together in community to read the world-text through the symbolic framework provided by the poetic texts of art and popular culture. We define our beliefs, values and personalities by absorbing and appreciating these texts, and in turn they inform how we read the world-text and our experience of it. We participate in a sort of popular religion, and we can think of religion as a special form of popular culture. Basically, I am arguing that the function of religious worship and the appreciation of popular culture (art) are essentially the same.

So is religion really just a form of popular culture? Can appreciation of popular music, drama, and literature be equated to the contemplation and worship of the divine? Certainly many religious zealots and zealous pop-culture fans will take issue with my claim. I only wish to say that these activities do in fact accomplish the same goal, which is to infuse life with meaning while creating community and common values. By participating in these activities, one can also achieve "transcendence". Whether or not religion is REALLY a form of popular culture is of little interest to me, since I deny that religion or pop-culture have an intrinsic nature to which my descriptions can correspond. For the purposes of this essay I have found it useful to compare these two concepts. I shall close with a quote by Richard Rorty:

The difficulty faced by a philosopher who... thinks of himself as auxiliary to the poet rather than the physicist- is to avoid hinting that this suggestion gets something right, that my sort of philosophy corresponds to the way things really are. For this talk of correspondence brings back the idea that my sort of philosopher wants to get rid of, the idea that the world or the self has an intrinsic nature. From our point of view, explaining the success of science, or the desirability of political liberalism, by talk of fitting the world or "expressing human nature" is like explaining why opium makes you sleepy by talking about its dormitive power. To say that Freud's vocabulary gets to the truth about human nature, or Newton's the truth about the heavens, is not an explanation of anything. It is just an empty compliment- one traditionally paid to writers whose novel jargon we have found useful⁽⁷⁾.

Endnotes

1. Doug Mann "God is Dead" The Kitchner-Waterloo, Ontario Record "Insight section," Dec.12, 1995.

2. Mann, "Tenacious Myth." The Kitchner-Waterloo Onartio Record "Insight Section" Sept. 3, 1995.

3. Richard Rorty, "The Contingency of Language," Contingency, Irony, and Solidarity (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989) pg. 5.

4. William James "The Will to Believe" in Pragmatism: The Classic Writings (Hackett Publishing Co.: Indianapolis, 1987) pg.192.

5. John Baldock, The Elements of Christian Symbolism (Shaftesbury: Element Books, 1997) pp.9-10.

6. The movie Jesus Christ Superstar portrays Christ as a pop icon.

7. Rorty, pp. 7-8.