One of the biggest problems I've had with theism is that I've been shown such astounding evidence for evolution of species by means of natural selection. Ironically, the best explanations of what that is really and what it means, were presented by a man who professes Christian faith, and who I am certain I should have asked more questions when I was under his tutelage. Nevertheless, the issue that is at hand has very little to do with biology and a whole lot to do with the world around us. Of course the questions begin with biology-- how did the Kingdoms split and from them emerged Phyla, and on and on. But the problem is that the answers to these questions are not readily answered with a "yes, but..." approach that leads into what we now know as the argument for Intelligent Design (and within that I'm including traditional Creationism, though I realize that there is a spectrum there).
But Intelligent Design would make more sense if there seemed any rhyme or reason or evidence of success to what and who and where we are. But there doesn't seem to be. I'm not trying to badger anyone or depreciate what it is to be human. Not at all. But I find that the problem with the natural selection (which is an awkward term, when you think about it) is that the underlying proposal is that there is no selection at all. Organisms are not progressing and becoming better. Rather, life is a craps shoot with no direction whatsoever. Whatever lives long enough to reproduce "wins" and whatever doesn't, doesn't.
The way that I'd always rationalized evolution and married it back into my Christian beliefs was by way of a very different, adulterated understanding of what it all meant. I would reason that if the Big Bang happened, and that's what the evidence points to, then it would have been used by God to bring forth the universe over time. And in the universe, then, God would have guided evolution until Man sprang forth from the other primates, and God would at that point have breathed "life" (and I took that to mean "soul") into mankind.
It doesn't seem that my rationalizations make much sense, though, in light of a better understanding of the scientific theory. I do not claim that I'm explaining it well, by the way. Just explaining what I took away from my experiences. (Do your own research, people! Ensatina salamanders are a good place to start.) But by looking at the nineteenth century and the worldviews that diverged from Darwin's publication onward, it becomes clear that one may not have one's cake and eat it, too.
T
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Thursday, December 23, 2010
AA and pseudotheological alchemy
As a part of this process, I initially made a list of places and events to try to attend and systems to learn about. One that was brought to my attention was Alcoholics Anonymous. It seems like a really odd place to go in search of spiritual enlightenment, but then, so does a banyan tree.
I accompanied my housemate, Jon, as he needed to go to an AA meeting as part of his course work for the masters degree he is working on in community counseling. Addictions counseling is a big part of that, and so understanding AA is pretty useful. Anyway, on the way to Little Rock to the meeting at noon on a weekday, we discussed the origins of AA and the underlying principles. When we walked into the room, I was surprised to see a bunch of tables in rows in what reminded me of a fellowship hall in a church. People were sitting dispersed around the room at the tables and in chairs around the perimeter. A woman with frizzy blond hair and the pudge of middle age stood on a platform at the front of the room and called on people in a sort of popcorn style. They would respond with the prose repeated in so many movies, "Hi, I'm ___, and I'm an alcoholic." And that, of course, was answered with a chorus of "Hi, ___."
Things started to get interesting when the people on the journey of recovery started to talk, though. At the core of AA is the acceptance of a Higher Power, and that Higher Power may be God in the Christian sense or not, but it is really important that a Higher Power be envisioned and sought. As these people (working class, mostly African American) told their stories, it became clear why I had been brought to AA. This really was a spiritual group meeting. The attendees talked at length about how they had managed to destroy their lives through alcoholism. Lost jobs, lost loves, lost family members and opportunities.
The stories were oddly similar, and they tended to follow the pattern of "I started drinking around the age of X. It spiraled out of control and messed everything up. Then I realized that I have a problem and the only way to live is by submitting to the Higher Power and to trust him/her/it with how I live. I can't have a relationship with the Higher Power and keep drinking. This is how I'm staying sober."
As Jon and I left that meeting room, we didn't really talk until we had gone back downstairs and gotten into the car. A man came to try to sell us knock-off colognes as we were leaving. We were not interested, and we told him we'd ask for him next time we came around. In the car I turned to Jon and just kind of gaped. I had no idea that AA would be so... religious. I thought it would be like the movies and no one would so much talk about the Higher Power, but that it would be kind of a personal thing. Nope.
I remarked to Jon that it was like a religion without doctrine, if that's even possible. The Higher Power is never proscribed as far as I can see, and there isn't much said about anything outside of liquor consumption. But Jon pointed out that maybe that is the doctrine, and in some ways it very closely follows evangelical Christian patterns.
-I have become an alcoholic; that has ruined my life
-There is nothing I can do under my own power to change
-The Higher Power can change the corruption of alcohol and make life good again
-I can't have alcohol and the Higher Power
-I must turn to the Higher Power and my life will be restored
This is kind of a putting-out-the-fire system of theology. If you replace alcohol in the above steps, you have a very close approximation to the evangelical pattern of salvation.
Who knew?
T
I accompanied my housemate, Jon, as he needed to go to an AA meeting as part of his course work for the masters degree he is working on in community counseling. Addictions counseling is a big part of that, and so understanding AA is pretty useful. Anyway, on the way to Little Rock to the meeting at noon on a weekday, we discussed the origins of AA and the underlying principles. When we walked into the room, I was surprised to see a bunch of tables in rows in what reminded me of a fellowship hall in a church. People were sitting dispersed around the room at the tables and in chairs around the perimeter. A woman with frizzy blond hair and the pudge of middle age stood on a platform at the front of the room and called on people in a sort of popcorn style. They would respond with the prose repeated in so many movies, "Hi, I'm ___, and I'm an alcoholic." And that, of course, was answered with a chorus of "Hi, ___."
Things started to get interesting when the people on the journey of recovery started to talk, though. At the core of AA is the acceptance of a Higher Power, and that Higher Power may be God in the Christian sense or not, but it is really important that a Higher Power be envisioned and sought. As these people (working class, mostly African American) told their stories, it became clear why I had been brought to AA. This really was a spiritual group meeting. The attendees talked at length about how they had managed to destroy their lives through alcoholism. Lost jobs, lost loves, lost family members and opportunities.
The stories were oddly similar, and they tended to follow the pattern of "I started drinking around the age of X. It spiraled out of control and messed everything up. Then I realized that I have a problem and the only way to live is by submitting to the Higher Power and to trust him/her/it with how I live. I can't have a relationship with the Higher Power and keep drinking. This is how I'm staying sober."
As Jon and I left that meeting room, we didn't really talk until we had gone back downstairs and gotten into the car. A man came to try to sell us knock-off colognes as we were leaving. We were not interested, and we told him we'd ask for him next time we came around. In the car I turned to Jon and just kind of gaped. I had no idea that AA would be so... religious. I thought it would be like the movies and no one would so much talk about the Higher Power, but that it would be kind of a personal thing. Nope.
I remarked to Jon that it was like a religion without doctrine, if that's even possible. The Higher Power is never proscribed as far as I can see, and there isn't much said about anything outside of liquor consumption. But Jon pointed out that maybe that is the doctrine, and in some ways it very closely follows evangelical Christian patterns.
-I have become an alcoholic; that has ruined my life
-There is nothing I can do under my own power to change
-The Higher Power can change the corruption of alcohol and make life good again
-I can't have alcohol and the Higher Power
-I must turn to the Higher Power and my life will be restored
This is kind of a putting-out-the-fire system of theology. If you replace alcohol in the above steps, you have a very close approximation to the evangelical pattern of salvation.
Who knew?
T
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