New Years Message

At the dawn of a new millennium we find ourselves sailing upon uncharted waters in a condition and environment unprecedented in human history. Probably most of us have neither the time nor the desire to reflect upon such large, complex, and potentially upsetting questions (or, for that matter, to reflect at all). This is a part of the current condition, and a significant part of what I consider to be the root of the problem. Whether we choose to admit it or not the fact is that we, as a civilization, are in trouble. We are lost in our own abundance, and in the internal contradictions of our espoused beliefs and the world in which those beliefs are reflected. These assumptions are challenging and distressing to many, but they are not without foundation. The basis of my optimism resides in our ability to honestly address them. You needn't agree. My suggestion is simply that it is our thought which has gotten us here, and it is our thought which must move us beyond.

The concern, simply expressed, is that we as individuals have either forgotten how to think deeply and honestly, or have lost the desire to. Being swept along in a confusing and complex world, characterized by an astounding velocity of change and flooded by an avalanche of information and opinion, we do what we must to avoid confusion . . . or, at the very least, to avoid the conclusion that we as individuals are unclear, confused, or mistaken in our perceptions. In this condition there is no time for reflection, for real thought, or for careful consideration; there is only time for passing judgments based upon a simplistic intellectual shorthand we now consider sufficient reason. Much of this 'thinking' represents our own attempts at convincing ourselves of that which we are not really convinced. Please do not interpret this as an accusation, as I have been as guilty of this as anyone. What this leads to, however, is the possession of a set of beliefs -- in deed, of convictions -- which are feigned. In order to relieve our pretense we effectively drug ourselves with those attitudes which are easiest, most popular, and most according to formula. Again, I have been as guilty as anyone. This is both understandable and tragic, for what it serves to do is falsify our own existence. This may serve to ease the pretense of our everyday lives and convince us that we are informed, up-to-date, and able to capably look after our best interests through informed decisions, but at the same time it creates a certain restlessness and a deep 'otherness' .

Having said this, based upon my own perception and experience, is there not a wider and more general sense in the public perception that there is something of central importance which is either missing or defective? Do we not feel that we have placed our faith in an assumed human capacity to wisely and effectively control and direct the systems upon which we have become dependent? Are we not, in effect, expressing a belief in our ability to build the Celestial City in our own material world? Beneath that exists a justifiable anxiety about to what (or whose) plan we become dedicated to, and an even more severe concern and fear for what might happen if we either fail in its construction or lose the capacity to steer its course or shape its contours.

My own feeling is that we have reinterpreted both the essence and the historical role of religion, and that its changed nature has been a response to the anxieties expressed above.

Fundamentally, I suggest that religion is not about orthodoxy, worship, ritual, or veneration. That which lies at the core of religion is belief . . . belief in our true self, and in something beyond our own mortal capacities and limitations. It implies an organic integrity, of which we are a part; and it suggests that the idea of intellect precedes all which follows from it. In religion the mystery of the intellect is the proto-thing, not an atom of hydrogen. It is the intellect of that composite and organic integrity (of all 'things') which has consistently emerged as the initial and ultimate source of wisdom; and this is the repository of our faith. This, if you accept it, highlights what must be seen as an aberration in human history: the modern theme.

I find it difficult to escape the impression that most contemporary religion exists as an adjunct to our faith in the humanist ideal, and in response to the anxieties expressed . . . too often retained in the form of insurance. When in difficulty or in peril we tend to reserve the 'right' to plea for divine intervention.

That which is so distinct about the current period of rationalism is the degree to which its contrasting and defining partner has been eradicated. Never before have we dared to be so arrogant or so caught up in ourselves. It is as if somewhere in the nineteenth century we caught a glimpse of our reflection in a still pond and -- like Narcissus -- fell in love with ourselves. Furthermore, we have rejected the relevance of any age other than the modern . . . we have lost our sense of history. Oh sure, we make reference to history and have collected mountains of historical data, but we have become (as Foucault observed) 'dehistoricized.' What we have lost is a meaningful past, which is interwoven with ourselves; it no longer speaks to us of the things which really matter. That is a part of the 'hollowness' I referred to, but more troubling is the awareness that we have set our course (and established dependencies) in such a way as to commit ourselves. No longer is there any looking back, there seemingly exists very little capacity to alter that course or even pause to catch our breath. This is historically unprecedented. We have produced this dilemma, and we are responsible for the decisions we have taken.

As with Pandora's case, there is always hope. It is that which provides my incentive for writing this, and I do not want to stray too far from it. Our faith in modern progress and development has not been consistent. Certainly the major wars served to foster disillusionment, as did the demise of modern and corporatist structures in Germany and the Soviet Union, but there never emerged a competing vision capable of seriously threatening the modern myth. The politics and debate which followed focused more upon which idealized vision, which plan, was superior, than upon our capacity to realize the ideal. How could the modern be displaced? It is far too heroic, self-serving and seductive . . . when disillusion set in, the ideal was replaced by a vacuum suggesting anarchy and sensual excess. There were 'revivals' of religion in either an alternative or traditional form, but even the traditional forms (with very few exceptions) sought to accommodate the modern theme within their newly flexible doctrines. To do otherwise would have been to directly challenge the modern state and invite their own redundancy. Increasingly, by way of popular demand, the very character (and object) of worship underwent a significant, yet silent, transformation. Modern prayers are addressed to a God whose perceived nature is quite distinct from that of past perception. It would seem that religion and the modern state are not incompatible, but only so long as religion is content to take an auxiliary role and the Deity is perceived as, while omnipotent and responsible for everything, fully compassionate, undemanding, and definitely not vengeful. My point is simply that this is a significant departure from historic perceptions across diverse cultures.

In the past decade or so the modern myth is stronger than ever, as it would appear that its objective is within reach. This has strengthened the state and extended its capacity for control. It has also served to again (and more seriously) threaten organized religion with redundancy. This time, however, the religious structures are not attempting to accommodate. They are digging in and, increasingly, implying a more demanding and traditional interpretation. This crisis is unavoidable in the context of an environment in which science and the state offers (or is about to offer) drugs to keep us happy and healthy, interchangeable body parts, a cornucopia of manna and desirable things, an end to suffering and hunger, and a world of peace and plenty singing in happy harmony. Why be religious when the modern genie is about to defeat the four horsemen and enable the fountain of youth? Why indeed?

Are we not at the threshold of, if not defeating death, being able to defer it and extend life almost indefinitely? And more, we can soon perfect the genetics of our species and duplicate what had been unique individuals. Well, there is no room even for a sage old granter of blessings in such an environment . . . they dig in because they have no other option. It is this tension, I suggest, which lies beneath our 'bipolar disorder' and beneath the surface of what appear as political divisions throughout the world (but particularly in the United States and the Middle East). It is explosive, and passions on both sides are aflame with missionary zeal. Modernism has recently come to express its own orthodoxy, mission, and (increasingly) ethic.

The faith expressed by modern zealots is not distinct from that of those who express a religious righteousness, and in many regards the politics of modernism has assumed the role and trappings of religion. This has been the case for some considerable time. Past attempts at establishing corporate orthodoxy have sought to use the power of the crowd to enforce their view of what constitutes a 'good' citizen. They create their own image of what is moral, popularize it, elevate it to the status of ethic, and use popular pressure to enforce it. Corporate ideologies of the past manifested many of the qualities of religion and usurped much of its role. If we were at all aware of our history (even modern history) we would presently be hearing warning bells.

Orthodoxy is no more characteristic of religion than it is of politics. It has been the institutional and corporate structures of religious organization which have at times demanded conformity and punished heretics. Liberty is the foundation of liberalism, and the most central theme of liberalism runs counter to demands for orthodoxy . . . it is about tolerance and freedom. It really has little to do with social and economic conditions or relations, and much to do with the political and legal inclusion of a diverse citizenry and a tolerance for their diverse views . . . political, social and religious. A movement toward orthodoxy in a liberal state would seem contradictory, and yet that is exactly what is currently underway in numerous countries. The more curious fact is that many of our present-day zealots believe themselves to be liberal champions. They are supportive of what are perceived to be liberal causes and refer to liberal icons, but they do not practice the liberal discipline. Their new orthodoxy would seem to champion ideals which are wholesome and pure, yet it is words and indications of alignment which matter most ___ not their actions or behavior. As in past assaults upon liberalism, what one says is more significant than what one does (unless what one does is threatening to the cause).

Modernism is at a critical juncture. Its commanders are more confident and arrogant than ever, yet, by virtue of that ascendancy, relationships of power and the alliances that have sustained it are strained. Today there is very little doubt amongst the believers, especially with regard to capacity. Yet there remains extensive doubt when it comes to the wisdom of our leadership, and there is emerging an unexpected doubt . . . that the now approachable objective might not be as fulfilling nor as heroic as we had imagined. Events are likely to move even more quickly.

I neither express nor possess a political or religious preference, but must admit to a fondness for the liberal attitude. I recognize that it is a very difficult and complex discipline, and I also realize that it is not an attractive discipline in the eyes of any corporate structure of political and economic power. It surprises me not in the least that powerful interests would seek to destroy or discredit it. Past assaults upon liberty have been direct and overt, and were launched in an environment of scarcity and distress; it is somewhat surprising to witness a challenge springing from an environment of prosperity and apparent stability. In the present case the assault is not obvious. Its strategy implies a stealth advance in the season of plenty, followed by a quick crushing blow against whatever opposition remains (in a winter of discontent). It is at this point that some will see their true colors. On the topic of a future assault upon liberalism, a Spanish philosopher (Jose Ortega y Gasset) wrote the following just after the Second World War:

'The frontal attack must come in such a way that the mass (man) cannot take precaution against it; he will see it before him and will not suspect that it precisely is the frontal attack.'

Most readers will not believe that there is any basis for my expressed concerns, yet I wonder if these warnings would be better received in a context of dysfunction and distress. For most of us, such concerns, even if creditable, matter far less than those relating to their cholesterol count . . . or to the performance of their portfolio. Perhaps that is why it should not be too surprising.

We like to think in pairs. Although such duality should not characterize a mode of thought, there is no doubt that thought has a binary component. Birth and death constitute a pair of contrasting and defining opposites. It is difficult to imagine one concept without a capacity to reference it with its off-sider. One would appear at the beginning of a cycle, and the other at the end (like high and low tide). This would appear to be obvious, as would the observation that a change in the rate of either without a change in the other would necessarily impact the rate of natural increase or decrease in population. This is mentioned by way of preface to an elaboration on what I have suggested regarding a growing conflict between the secular policies of modern states and religion, which those policies threaten with redundancy and insignificance.

My suggestion is that the pace of progress in the consolidation of secular power, and in the technologies which in large part enable that power, has quickened and has made it increasingly apparent that there now exists a much diminished capacity for religious institutions to coexist (even in an auxiliary or secondary role) within the secular society of tomorrow. Which is to say that the very basis of incentive for religious expression is not only challenged, but made moot. Much of this is wrapped up in, and revolves about, the associated issues of life cycle and population rates.

Assuming that modernist policies and their intent truly do reflect a conviction that life is sacred (a strange term, perhaps, for them to use), and the design is to overcome death (or, at least, premature death however one might define premature), it would be naive to believe that they have not considered its consequent impact upon population. That consideration would, of necessity, suggest an ability to achieve a reciprocal reduction in births by means of abortion, contraception and sterilization. Here, so long as demographic concerns are ignored, the state again has the high ground. How could religions express an attitude which appeared to venerate life to any lesser degree? Or even to remind us that death is a necessary consequence of birth, and that being mortal acknowledges just that? They respond with a policy which appears to venerate life to an even greater degree and foreshadows the population issue (as if it were unassociated with that of climate change, or the health of the planet and all who dwell upon it). There is little wonder that the abortion issue has become so central and emotional . . . or that the Catholic Church has galvanized its opposition to all three proposed responses to population pressure.

As for the state, it encourages its citizens to elevate life to a level unparalleled in its own history. This elevated status is reflected even in the courts and in recent laws. Acts of negligence, poor judgment, and omission, if they directly or indirectly result in, or could result in, what is considered 'premature' death are increasingly being prosecuted as crimes; even without an awareness or intent of wrong-doing. The charge of murder is much more frequently leveled without the need to prove intent by both extremes; at abortionists; at motorists; and at people who either prevent their kin from getting medical intervention, or at medical staff who are slow or reluctant to intervene in an effort at sustaining life. The campaign for public opinion and validation had to be waged as a struggle for the high ground on the theme of the sacredness of life; how could it be otherwise? Could you imagine the impact of a religious position suggesting that 'the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away'? Or a government position acknowledging that some military campaign costing 20,000 lives was justifiable in defense of our vital national interests? Not in the present environment, we can't. Writers, academics and media personalities can either join in this sacred interpretation of our earthly existence (no matter how absurd, anti natural, or a historical it may be) or be stoned. What is more, the stones would fly from both left and right. One may, however, question just how genuine such reverence is. That is left to your consideration and judgment.

I did not want to stray too far from hope, which is (hopefully) the theme of this effort. Surely we must have learned something from our collective experience, and developed some better capacity to navigate between past and future. I recall the words of William Blake:

"Now I a fourfold vision see,
and a fourfold vision is given me;
'Tis fourfold in my supreme delight,
and threefold in soft Beulah's light,
and twofold Always. May God us keep
From single vision and Newton's sleep."

My hope resides in our capacity to avoid the temptation of singular vision and galvanized opinion. Even a casual observer can identify a hardening of attitude within two contrary schemes. At present the contest appears to be for our hearts and minds, and it is all too easy to find comfort and understanding in the tents and tenets of one vision or the other. It is too easy to lose our minds, when all about us are losing theirs and investing all in one camp or the other. The solution, the salvation, is simply to use our own minds and to think honestly for ourselves. This is not as easy in the current environment as one might expect. My concern, the basis of despair, is that we may have lost the capacity or the desire to do so . . . and that we are too complacent to avoid singular vision. When we become convinced that there is but one singular and correct opinion or body of opinion, we become orthodox.

A paradox signifies divergent opinions which are incompatible with each other (and the assumption that the truth can exist only in one of the two). Orthodox signifies a singular or 'correct' opinion. When a society divides into opposing camps, each believing its opinion is correct, the dominant group demands and enforces an orthodoxy of both its members and the larger society. That is how zealots are created. Their zeal is an expression of both conviction and of emotion . . . in a political or in a religious context. When the apparatus of state power is controlled by either camp, the full weight of the state falls upon what are perceived to be the heretics . . . and never has it been concerned about heretical welfare.

We do not have to look too far in our pasts to see examples of conflicting and contrasting expressions of political orthodoxy and attempts to fully eradicate 'heretical' opposition and heretics in general. We find it difficult to comprehend how people, civilized people, could abide (let alone condone) the excesses and atrocities of states which have enforced such an orthodoxy and eradicated people or peoples whose views were paradoxical. I suggest that the passion and zeal which enabled the movement to gain popularity and dominance was strengthened in the process of defeating opposition groups, and that the validity of their opinion and sanctity of their cause would be confirmed with every victory. A nation of zealots is capable of anything; it is a frightening prospect.

Our knowledge of history should make us aware that an emerging power structure which demands conformity with their view of correct thought and behavior, by its very nature, is driven by zeal and enforced by zealots. It will also provoke its opposition to galvanize and radicalize into a paradoxical orthodoxy producing equally zealous defenders . . . which is precisely why the dominant consolidation of power deems it necessary to eradicate its opposition and whatever probable or potential opposition it may identify. Zealots, be they saints and martyrs or war criminals, will kill for the cause and die for the cause. If guilty of crimes and condemned to death they will rarely feel remorse, and usually view their accusers with disdain. And further, it is not all that difficult to comprehend why; they remain convinced that their opinion is correct and their past actions noble. Often they will go to their death with a haughty smirk of superiority, or a contemptuous and jocular smile, on their faces. They are very dangerous characters, even to the rich and powerful.

Take a pause; look around you; and consider carefully what you see. If you deem that there is sufficient cause for concern . . . if it appears that my concerns are even weakly warranted, investigate further with your own mind and through your own eyes. And should you conclude that there is a serious threat in the context I suggest, consider this: 'Wisdom, the Mirrored Shield.' For should you enter the fray in opposition you may well begin to resemble your opponents and become convinced of something you don't really believe. I am serious about this, you will soon begin to reflect the same traits as your enemy, and commit to policies equally unjust and outrageous.

This does not mean you can or should do nothing. Think for yourself, keep your mind, and exhibit your integrity in both your actions and in your speech. That may well turn out to be the best defense of liberty and tolerance, as well as the most difficult to combat.