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~ A Moral Argument for Immortality
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I would like to begin by quoting at some length
from the Russian philosopher Berdyaev, who died some 50 years
ago. This is the opening of the chapter called ‘Immortality’
from his book ‘The Divine and the Human’.
“The problem of immortality is fundamental, it is the chief
problem of human life, and man only forgets it through superficiality
and light-mindedness. Sometimes indeed he likes to persuade himself
that he has forgotten it; he does not allow himself to think about
the subject which is more important than anything else. The prayer
that we may be granted the remembrance of death is a profound
prayer, and the seriousness of life itself is conditioned by the
remembrance of death, not one’s own death but still more
that of other people. All religions ........have taken shape in
relation to death. Man is a being who is faced by death throughout
his whole life, and not only at his last hour. Man wages a double
warfare; for life and for immortality. Death is something which
is within life and not beyond it; it is the most stupendous of
facts, one which borders upon the transcendent.
Great suffering always raises the problem of death and immortality;
but every experience which deepens life always raises the same
question....”
I hope you enjoy, as I do, the forthrightness of that passage.
Berdyaev is medicine for the Society of Friends, if only it would
read him. He combines enormous learning and depth with the most
courageous simplicity. He never tries to hide himself behind his
learning, or to protect himself thereby from the possible scorn
of his professional colleagues.
In the spirit of Berdyaev, my emphasis today will not be on the
evidence for another world and life -(though I believe such evidence
exists) - but on the moral requirement that there be one. Part
of my reason for taking this approach is the hope that fellow
Quakers will be moved in their tenderest part, their moral consciences.
If this begins to happen’, prejudices about the whole question
of the Soul and Immortality may begin to lose some of their force.
And after that has occurred, Friends may begin to look, in an
open-minded way, at the very interesting evidence.
One problem is that there are now many Quakers who no longer believe
in God. For them my moral argument is of no use or relevance.
If we don’t believe in a God who has brought us into being
in some way, and who cares for us, then we don’t have to
believe that the system of things is just, or will one day become
just - though most Friends who reject both God and Immortality
continue to hope for justice on earth. At the same time, and quite
illogically, such Friends feel freed of a great burden in not
having to think about the whole question of Immortality. It appears
to simplify things considerably not to have to do so. Quite so,
and it would simplify things even more to give up hoping for justice
on earth, or peace, social harmony, and many other things that
most Friends care for! Most of us see immediately the terrible
price that would have to be paid for such a drastic simplification.
But what most current Friends don’t see is the terrible
price we are paying already for the drastic elimination of the
Soul and Immortality from our concern and our spiritual life.
For in the religious or Christian, and specifically the Quaker
position, as traditionally understood, there most certainly is
a moral requirement for another world, for the fulfilment of creation,
because our sense of God’s justice and love requires it.
The question now is - Do we actually mean anything by what we
say? To say, as many Quakers still do say -’God is Love’-
while at the same time strenuously denying another world, in which
broken lives can heal, and begin to grow again, is a bit too much
like saying - ‘God is Love if you are lucky on earth.’
It really is a bit too close to saying - ‘God is Love if
you are English and middle-class, and have lived somewhere in
the Home Counties in the second half of the 20th Century.’
Many Friends will reject this angrily. They may admit the social
classification, while denying that this has spared them suffering.
And they will be right, where this is true. But their arguments
against the need for Immortality will nevertheless be strained
and artificial, as I have found, and will continue to reflect
this specific background and its gradually learnt assumptions.
This is especially true when they argue that they don’t
ask for another life, that they are not interested in ‘rewards
and punishments’, that they don’t require ‘the
consolation’ of another world, and so on. It is true even
when they make the moral argument that a concern with another
world morally distracts us from a proper concern with social and
other conditions in this world. And my criticism is true especially
when they maintain that God’s Love for us isn’t to
be measured by any benefits conferred on us, and that the deep
spiritual life is a mystery beyond any such practical or crude
equations.
All this puts them on the moral high ground, as it is meant to
do, and makes the rest of us seem rather grubby and calculating.
The good Quaker, it is implied, must transcend the clamorous needs
of the ego, and practise gratitude towards God for his or her
life on earth, whatever it may be. But it is a simple fact, open
to anyone’s observation, that there are many lives in which
the love of God has had no chance whatever to take root. Too many
of us now, in our social concern for ‘the wretched of the
earth’, brush aside a concern for the Soul and its fulfilment.
Yet a social concern for a situation which is not quickly remediable,
is not a remedy at all, and if there is no remedy for misery,
we had better stop talking about knowing the Love of God. Berdyaev
wrote in his autoboigraphy ‘Dream and Reality’ - “Nothing
is more pitiful than consolation derived from the idea of the
progress of humanity, and the happiness of future generations.
The consolation of eventual world-harmony as frequently offered
to personality, always revolted me...... Nothing ‘general’
can comfort the ‘individual’ man in his unhappy fate.
Progress itself is acceptable only if it is effected, not alone
for future generations, but for me, as well.”
Some people never seem to doubt the value and importance of what
they will call ‘the spiritual life in the Here and Now’.
And yet, if there is no remedy for wasted and broken lives, and
if it is not considered important to find one through another
world, then it is surely frivolous to affirm the importance of
the Here and Now, and the importance of ‘spirituality.’
Why is such a life important at all, and what makes such people
so sure that God is listening? God will be listening to the broken
and the lost, to the yearnings to which our Society has stopped
listening. The ‘spiritual life’ of those who shut
out those yearnings will be a merely self-referential circuit,
composed of the illusion of reaching out and response. It is a
game.
All that I’ve been saying might make it seem that the moral
argument for Immortality is for some kind of compensation for
unjust pain suffered on earth. But that is not my argument. The
argument is that a creative loving God longs for the development,
the flourishing and the return of all creation, for that is what
the enterprise is about. The overarching spiritual idea is that
whatever is created must fulfil its nature, and will not be thwarted.
Essential to this idea is the understanding that nothing and no
one reaches a full unfolding of itself in the limited conditions
of this world. And the moral argument is therefore subordinate
to a larger argument by which we are all unfinished beings, all
needing other worlds and sets of conditions and experiences to
complete and fulfil us.
Now of course the trouble may simply be that many people just
can’t believe in another world. Hostile Friends may drop
their defensiveness and their pride about not needing another
world, they may come to admit that a spirituality without another
world is inadequate. ‘There ought to be another world, but
I just can’t believe that there is.’
Here the role of evidence becomes crucial. Yet the moral concern
remains relevant, for it becomes a question of how sincere we
are in our desire to believe - that is, how much we are prepared
to care. It consequently becomes a question of how much we are
prepared to suffer inwardly for what we would like to see - of
whether we are prepared to be turned inside out for it, as nothing
less than that will bring us to any sort of conviction.
It also becomes a question of who we will decide to venerate and
follow within our Society. There is no disgrace whatever in being
unable to believe in Immortality. If anything I have said has
seemed to imply that there is, then I take it back with all my
heart. What is truly shocking and disgraceful, however, is to
see the few quiet people in our Society who do have such a serene
conviction, marginalised and dishonoured. Their voice is silenced,
and the really vociferous people in the Society are those who
make it a point of pride not to believe in another world. They
regard themselves as possessing thereby a ‘superior’
spirituality, and are determined to be leaders. These not only
ignore the truly spiritual serene believers in another world,
and try to lead where they should be following, but many will
also crush and bully, so that the other people in our Meetings
who want to talk about the Soul and Immortality are too terrified
to do so. And these bullies in our Society regard their standpoint
as ‘reality’, and ‘seriousness’, whereas
they are precisely the people who are not fundamentally serious.
At this point I would like to go into a little theological history.
The Christian Churches were always serious about the next world,
but not always serious about God being Love. Both Protestants
and Catholics believed, for much of their history, in the doctrine
that God had predestined a few for Heaven and the rest for eternal
Hell. Eastern Orthodoxy, to its great credit, never believed this,
and the great theologian Origen, in the 3rd Century, specifically
taught universal salvation. But much of Origen was condemned by
later Church Councils, and certainly in the Western Churches his
universalist doctrine was buried and forgotten.
You may be surprised to know -(for it is now never talked about
in the Society) - that the Society of Friends holds a very special
place in the revival of Origen’s attitude and in the overthrow
of the Calvinist predestination doctrine in which all mid-17thCentury
Quakers without exception were brought up. Poor Isaac Penington
was nearly driven out of his mind by it, as you can discover by
reading the short account he gives of his life. The main contribution
of the Quaker inspiration in the 17thCentury was precisely the
re-discovery of the possibility of universal salvation, involving,
it goes without saying, another world. And yet this is precisely
the thing that is never talked about by modern Quakers. We have
become the greatest betrayers of the very thing that our Society
came into existence to proclaim. Among our modern Quaker scholars
dealing with Quaker origins, it gets no mention whatever, apart
from the work of the very fine H.G. Wood, who was an inspiring
Warden of Woodbrooke for so many years. (Woodbrooke is now as
though H.G.Wood had never been.)
To talk of universal salvation in the context of another world
is to re-discover the phrase ‘God is Love’ in a truly
meaningful sense. But in Quakerism today we have the melancholy
situation of a universalism (in the sense of Truth from many sources
and religions) without the salvation. That is to say, without
the next world, or worlds, by which alone Universalism can make
good sense. It is also ridiculous to claim to be ‘open’
to truths from all the other religions, and therefore to be universalist,
while totally ignoring the concerns with another world which pretty
well all the other religions talk about. It is an Orwellian case
of ‘All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal
than others.’
It is very strange. A deep inner life, which is what Quakerism
still claims for itself, should make us aware both of the God
within, and of the greatness of our own Souls, without which the
reality of God cannot after all be grasped. In becoming aware
of the greatness of the Soul, in apprehending God, one would expect
the quiet conviction of its Immortality to follow naturally. Yet
this is not happening in modern Quakerism. We could even be said
to be in denial - and we need someone or something to shake us.
Someone once said that the virtue of great preaching was that
it wounded us with a sense of our own possible greatness. Perhaps
we instead practise a spirituality of low self-esteem, and that
we understand true humility to be the denial of our Soul and its
Immortality.
Friends in the 17thCentury were turned inside out by their inner
conflict from the Calvinism in which they were brought up. They
could not rest until they had come to an inspired understanding
of many things, of which universal salvation was the most important.
It was a revolution. Quakers were persecuted for a generation,
but predestination doctrines gradually died out. In the 18th Century
John Wesley thanked the Quakers for that.
It seems to me that nothing less than being turned inside out
all over again is going to do for our Society if it is to grasp
the importance of the issue being put forward here. And this is
why I offer the moral argument to the tender conscience of our
Society. It seems that only there , in a moral turmoil and struggle,
are we so capable of wrestling with ourselves that we are in real
danger of finding out the truth. We need first to look unflinchingly
at the real tragedy of the world. Without for a moment taking
our eyes off that, we need to ask ourselves if our current solutions
are really solutions, and if we can really credit a spirituality
that tries to manage without another world. The second step is
to admit to the bankruptcy of previous approaches, whether frankly
secular, or spuriously spiritual. We may then find ourselves for
a long time in a painful limbo, having lost our previous certainties
without having gained any true and life-giving certainty of the
other world. Out of this pain, vision will begin to come, and
when this begins to happen, actual evidence will become a useful
supplement.
It may seem a miserable thing to focus on the world’s tragedy.
Yet if we never do, or do so without clear looking, without inner
honesty, we will only succeed in being subliminally troubled by
it, and in producing inauthentic and manic spiritualities. None
of these give us any real hope, or give the wretched of the earth
any hope. The thing to pray for is that by looking honestly we
will break through the misery and be granted the blessing of the
real vision that our Society is really hungering and thirsting
for, but is too proud to admit to - the vision of those heavens
in which all creation will be gathered up.
There is in American Indian spirituality the notion of ‘Crying
for a Vision’. People are granted a vision by sighing and
crying for it And yet there is the frank recognition that some
are granted the vision, while others are not. Those who are not
will venerate those who have received it, while meanwhile their
state of sighing and longing goes on. We just cannot say how long
we might remain in the limbo of uncertainty about the existence
of the other world, or worlds. But it doesn’t matter if
we are there for the rest of our lives. We might cure it by a
resort to Spiritualism, (which should always be available as a
part of our religious life), in which we receive a clear message.
On the other hand, we may not receive a message at all, or it
may be so blurred that it cannot help us. This does not mean that
we should cease to sigh and groan for the other world, for such
sighs and groans open our spirit and help the spirits of others
in ways it is impossible to specify, but which are very real.
This is a real stage in a real spiritual life, unlike much current
spirituality which is based on the absolute and dogmatic certainty
that there is no other world, and that we must base our orientation
towards God on practices and attitudes that do not entail it.
And going with that , there is a determination to suppress the
voices of those who feel and think differently on this most important
of all issues.
The person who is sighing and groaning for some glimpse of the
other world is facing in the right direction, and if a whole Meeting
were allowed to face this way what a difference there would be.
Isn’t it time we began to try this? I hope that all that
I have said in this talk will encourage those who want such a
change in our Meetings to find the courage to ask fot it.
I would like to end by quoting one of A.E. Housman’s most
memorable poems
Into my heart an air that kills
From yon far country blows:
What are those blue remembered hills,
What spires, what farms are those?
That is the land of lost content,
I see it shining plain,
The happy highways where I went
And cannot come again.
Into the tidiness, the no-nonsense down-to-earthness of so much
current Quakerism, the surest medicine would be the unbearable
nostalgia of this poem. It is a subtle poetic trick of Housman
always to suggest that the question is closed, while a powerful
but seemingly useless longing is all that remains. But the longing
is not useless, it is a most potent weapon for keeping the question
eternally open.
David Britton April 2002. Adapted from a talk given to the
Quaker After-Life Studies Group.
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