The Role of Consciousness in 21st Century Spirituality
Consciousness, evolutionary religion, 21st century spirituality The evolutionary spirituality model rests on the belief that human consciousness evolves, slowly and over long periods of time. That evolution of consciousness includes a slow expansion of the human species’ capacity to sense or intuit the presence of the spiritual dimension of reality, including a slowly expanding awareness of moral goodness and meaning. As such, the evolution of consciousness functions as the basis for the emergence and evolution of religion in its many manifestations. The role of consciousness as the foundation of spirituality and religion becomes more prominent in our contemporary post-Axial culture, where a 21st century sensibility, which includes recognition of the historically and culturally constructed elements of religion, has led to a gradual loss of confidence in the notion that religion originates in a discrete act of top-down divine revelation. This in turn leads to a loss of confidence in the sacred texts, doctrines, and other institutional elements of traditional religion. Lacking faith in the old texts and the doctrines that flow from them, what are we left with as the basis for faith? Simply, consciousness. By letting go of our attachment to the old texts, doctrines, and religious authority structures, we open up the possibility of seeing the remarkable nature of consciousness, which is always right there in front of us as the source of all awareness and the basis for the human capacity to sense that there is a “Something More” to reality than just matter, energy, space, and time. Through consciousness we are able to directly access, however dimly, the presence of a spiritual dimension to the Cosmos, including the sense of moral goodness and meaning that are inherent aspects of that spiritual dimension. Unfortunately, we tend to take consciousness for granted, since it is, in one sense, quite “ordinary,” functioning as the always present basis for the mundane tasks of everyday sensory experience: seeing a rock, tasting an apple, hearing chirping birds, smelling a smoking fire, feeling the sun’s heat. Indeed, the full extent of human waking and dreaming experiences are possible only through our consciousness. As something (exactly what is a bit of a mystery) which is present with us all the time, we take it for granted rather than recognizing that it is utterly extraordinary and the necessary foundation for our capacity for spirituality. More specifically, we suggest here that there are two primary ways in which consciousness functions as the foundation of religion: 1. Consciousness disproves materialism/physicalism, and hence opens up the possibility of a spiritual perspective even for those who no longer find traditional faith to be credible 2. Consciousness is the faculty through which humans have intuitive access to awareness of the transcendental realm of meaning and value – or, in other words, awareness of Spirit Consciousness disproves materialism Twentieth century thought was dominated by the uncritical acceptance of reductive materialism which naively claimed that all of reality could be explained by and reduced to a material component. In its extreme form materialists simply denied that consciousness existed (which is a rather peculiar assertion, given that it would seem to be the case that any assertion by a human is an act of consciousness, even the assertion that denies the existence of consciousness). More typically, however, consciousness was seen as nothing more than an emergent property of electro-chemical activity in the brain. From this point of view consciousness wasn’t anything special: it’s just what you get when neurons reach a certain level of complexity, as they do in the human brain. But this position has been seriously challenged in both scientific and philosophical circles, as exemplified by what David Chalmers coined the “hard problem” of consciousness. Chalmers refers to the ongoing task of correlating conscious activity with brain events as the “soft problem” of consciousness. It’s a problem, in the sense that we’re still working on developing a full understanding of the neural correlates of consciousness (NCC), but it’s a “soft” problem in the sense that, in theory at least, it would seem to be the case that given sufficiently sophisticated scanning and similar medical devices, and given sufficient time to continue the research, there is good reason to believe that we will eventually be able to comprehensively understand the correlation between specific acts of consciousness and specific physical events in the brain. And yet, no matter how accurately and comprehensively we map out the NCC, we still have not explained consciousness itself. Establishing that something happens in the brain, even at the precise moment that a specific conscious event occurs, demonstrates a correlation, but it does not in any way explain what consciousness is. The nature of consciousness is so radically different than the material substance that we observe in the brain that, as Chalmers suggests, bridging the gap between brain event and consciousness event may be an impossible task, and hence the “hard problem,” in the sense of a problem that might never be solved. Put differently, the actual nature of consciousness is an experience of what it is like to be a knowing subject. We might be able to identify what’s happening in a brain when that conscious experience occurs, but in doing so we are not in any way describing the actual subjective experience itself. We are not experiencing or in even a remote way providing insight into the nature of what it is like to have that experience. This again illustrates the peculiar character of consciousness, in that not only is it the case that we at present cannot describe in scientific terms what it is like to have a conscious experience, it would seem to be the case that the very question of describing what it is like to have a conscious experience is nonsensical. Objective realities – including activity in the brain – can be described, explained, measured, etc. by an outside observer. But the actual experience of consciousness cannot be described: it can only be experienced. Paradoxically, the one thing which we know most immediately and intimately is the one thing that completely eludes scientific explanation. In a certain sense, this awareness or consciousness that we all experience may seem rather mundane, precisely because of its commonness and universality. But to view consciousness as such would be an enormous mistake. When we step back and look at consciousness, we find something quite remarkable and mysterious. Consciousness, in a sense, offers us immediate empirically grounded evidence of the existence of something that is not material. Consciousness demonstrates that there is indeed “something more” than the material realm of matter and form. Consciousness demonstrates that, in this universe of such unimaginably immense spatial and temporal vastness, there is something else, and quite remarkably, that something else is part of us, perhaps even the essence of what we are. So this thing that we take for granted as we experience it day after day, moment after moment, is actually something rare, precious, and mysterious. What all of this suggests is that consciousness provides a gateway to the recognition that there really is a “Something More,” beyond the deterministic realm of material reality described by science. Consciousness provides confirmation that, independent of sacred text or church doctrine, there is good reason to believe that, in a broad sense, there is a “spiritual” element to reality. Consciousness provides access to the Transcendent realm of meaning and value But consciousness provides a basis for a post-traditional spirituality in another important way: besides confirming that there is a non-physical dimension to the Cosmos, consciousness provides us with access to the nature of that spiritual reality. It is only through consciousness that humans have the capacity for awareness of various sorts of sensory experience: sights, sounds, tactile sensations, etc. But consciousness is not limited to awareness of sensory experiences. In at least one species, the human, consciousness has evolved to the point where an awareness of intangibles, or content that is not the immediate product of some sort of sensory stimulation, has become possible. Through consciousness, for example, we have an awareness of abstract concepts such as time, space, number, and other universals. However, most significantly, human consciousness provides us with the capacity to gain access to awareness of supersensory spiritual qualities, such as value (moral goodness, love, empathy, justice, fairness) and meaning. As part of everyday experience, we tend to take this for granted, but here we begin to see the remarkable and unique quality of consciousness as that which allows the human species to access awareness of something that has no external, tangible, physical reality. Through consciousness, we have the capacity to intuit the presence of what, in traditional Western terms, constitutes transcendent qualities such as goodness, truth, and beauty. In the Western tradition, we see this in Plato’s forms; in Chinese thought, we see it in awareness of the indescribable but nonetheless completely real and utterly foundational Dao. Of course, different religious traditions have widely varying beliefs about the specific content of this spiritual awareness, but one could argue that such differences are to be expected when one considers the epistemological challenge of a small, young species attempting to understand and articulate something of this nature. Indeed, the Perennial Philosophy school (represented by the likes of Aldous Huxley, Huston Smith, and Frithjof Schuon) posits that there is an underlying unity of what might be called intuited spiritual awareness, which only becomes diversified when humans attempt to articulate its content through specific propositional statements. And so…. All of which brings us back to our initial concern: what does consciousness have to do with how we think about religion in the 21st century? To the extent that consciousness both involves a sense of self and is the faculty which allows the self to access concepts of meaning and value, the connection with religion is obvious and always has been: The specific mode of consciousness that has evolved in the human species (and perhaps elsewhere, but that’s for consideration at another time) is one that provides access to what can reasonably be designated as the spiritual dimension of the Cosmos, in the sense that human consciousness entails an intuitive awareness of, or sense that, we are in a Cosmos in which there exist, as fundamental properties, value and meaning, which are not inherently perceivable through a strictly materialist lens. There is indeed Something More than matter and energy. Religion (in its many expressions) can be seen as the human effort to make sense of and to more precisely articulate the nature of that consciously apprehended but still dim sense of Something More in which value and meaning originate. Hence, with reference to our consideration of how to think about religion in the 21st century, consciousness is the starting point. Setting aside the scriptures which are no longer accepted as the supernaturally revealed word of God, setting aside the doctrines and dogma which are no longer accepted as infallible and unquestioned affirmations that derive from those texts, and setting aside the privileged status of religious authority structures which derive their power from those texts and doctrines, we are still left with a foundation for a spiritual view of reality, and that foundation is consciousness. In fact, one might say that consciousness, when fully recognized as the mysterious and sublime reality that it is, provides a much firmer foundation for a 21st century religious perspective than do sacred texts and church doctrines, in that consciousness is something we know in an immediate and irrefutable sense, whereas sacred texts and doctrines require faith in a variety of ways. In simple and stark terms, consciousness is the 21st century starting point for a spiritual view of reality.
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In our previous post, we observed that expansion of our sense of moral responsibility beyond the human realm is found not only in the evolving 21st century spirituality, but also in some expressions of past religious and philosophical traditions. Of particular note is the Neo-Confucian tradition, which unfortunately is often overlooked in accounts of the world’s major spiritual and philosophical traditions.
Neo-Confucianism took the moral philosophy of Confucius (who avoided metaphysical and religious speculation) and gave it a cosmic scope, asserting that human ethical behavior constitutes an extension of moral quality (particularly ren) into the Universe (or in Confucian terms, into Heaven, Earth, and Humanity). This extension of moral responsibility beyond the human is intimately related to a corollary assertion of the inter-connectedness of all realms of the Cosmos. Humans do not exist as isolated beings, but rather as a part of a Cosmos of inter-connected entities of varying degrees of consciousness and moral awareness. This sense of the human connection to a larger reality is beautifully described by the 11th century Neo-Confucian Zhang Zai (Chang Tsai) in the beginning of his classic work, The Western Inscription: Heaven is my father and Earth is my mother, and even such a small creature as I finds an intimate place in their midst. Therefore that which fills the universe I regard as my body and that which directs the universe I consider as my nature. All people are my brothers and sisters, and all things are my companions. Carrying this sense of inter-connected reality to its logical moral conclusion that, as part of a larger reality, we have moral empathy for and responsibilities that extend to that larger reality of which we are a part, is Wang Yangming’s (15th to 16th c.) touching description of the enlightened sage as one who feels moral empathy for humans, non-human living beings, and even inanimate objects: When he observes the pitiful cries and frightened appearance of birds and animals about to be slaughtered, he cannot help feeling an inability to bear their suffering. This shows that his humanity forms one body with birds and animals. It may be objected that birds and animals are sentient beings as he is. But when he sees plants broken and destroyed, he cannot help a feeling of pity. This shows that his humanity forms one body with plants. It may be said that plants are living things as he is. Yet even when he sees tiles and stones shattered and crushed, he cannot help a feeling of regret. This shows that his humanity forms one body with tiles and stones….. Everything from ruler, minister, husband, wife, and friends to mountains, rivers, spiritual beings, birds, animals, and plants should be truly loved in order to realize my humanity that forms one body with them. (translations by Wing-tsit Chan, A Source Book in Chinese Philosophy) Contemporary cosmology, evolutionary theory, the emerging field of Big History, and even quantum theory all assert that humans are not isolated entities but rather part of a larger interconnected whole, and from this insight comes a sense of moral responsibility that expands beyond the human to all sentient beings and even the entire Universe. As this expanded sense of moral responsibility continues to develop in the 21st century and beyond, we can look back to Zhang Zai, Wang Yangming, and others in the Neo-Confucian tradition as an important historical source of this sense of cosmic ethical responsibility. What will the human sense of moral responsibility look like as we move into a post-Axial 21st century spirituality? As consciousness evolves and generates a greater awareness of the inter-connectedness of all being, how will that consciousness impact spirituality and the sense of moral responsibility toward other beings?
If we look at the long term, big picture evolution of human morality, we see a gradual expansion of our sense of moral obligation, from family to tribe to village to larger political units such as states and nations. What, then, will be the next step in what has so far been an ever-expanding sense of human moral responsibility (found, of course, only sporadically, and practiced by only a few even while the usual human brutality continues all around them)? What will morality in a post-Axial Age, 21st century spirituality look like? First, our sense of spiritually-grounded moral obligation likely will extend to the entire human species, not just to one’s “own” group, whether that be a specific religion, nation, ethnic group, or whatever. For many contemporary believers, that sense of moral obligation has already been extended to its maximum breadth within the human community through a sense of moral obligation to all humans, regardless of religion, ethnicity, race, gender, nationality, etc. The notion of a “brotherhood (or sisterhood) of man (or humanity)” is hardly a new idea, and its origins can be seen even in the teachings of Axial Age traditions (Jesus extending the sense of moral obligation beyond his Jewish followers to the Gentiles, the Buddha teaching the importance of extending compassion and other moral virtues to people of all castes). In real life, of course, this sense of a moral commitment to the entire species is often forgotten and sullied by its confused connection with various forms of religious exclusivism (moral obligations only to fellow true believers), nationalism (moral obligation only to God’s chosen nation), and similar limiting perspectives. Nonetheless, over the course of the 20th century, and especially among the post-Baby Boomer generation that has grown up with a previously unknown global ecological awareness and more informed recognition of the consequences of many aspects of modern human technologies, we find that a sense of community with the entire human species is more and more the norm rather than the exception. Such a trend is likely to continue, and the moral teachings of the religion of the future likely will reflect this sense of the need to treat all of humanity in a virtuous manner. But we would suggest that there are also signs that the expansion of our sense of moral responsibility is already extending even beyond the human species and evolving into a sense of moral responsibility to all living beings. The extension of moral responsibility beyond the human realm is, of course, a value occasionally found even in the ancient Axial Age tradition, as for example in the non-violence of Jainism, in the vegetarianism of Plotinus, in the neo-Confucian cosmicized vision of li and ren in Zhang Zai’s Western Inscription, and elsewhere. In contemporary moral philosophy, the ethicist Peter Singer has coined the term “speciesism” to describe and criticize the traditional approach to morality in which we treat one species (human) as more deserving of moral consideration than other species, whether plant or animal. Singer argues that speciesism, like racism and sexism, are relics of a morality which humanity is growing out of. We already see the early signs of the emergence of what might be called a “trans-human” or “trans-species” morality in the growth of vegetarianism and veganism (growing to the point that even fast-food restaurant chains now offer plant-based alternatives to beef and chicken) and the growing popularity of organizations and movements devoted to natural conservation, environmental protection, and ethical treatment of animals. One might speculate that given these trends, just as today’s believers look back critically at earlier religious moralities that were confined to one’s own tribe and considered sexist and racist behavior as morally acceptable, in the future spiritually mature believers might someday look back at today’s speciesist morality as similarly primitive and brutal. This movement toward a trans-species global ethic is referenced by Ervin Laszlo, who sees the evolutionary development of the human species as heading into a post-Axial Age in which human consciousness will become more attuned to our trans-species connections, and consequently a similarly expanded ethic will eventually develop. As our concept of God/Spirit/the Sacred expands, so will our sense of ethical responsibility: When people evolve transpersonal consciousness they become aware of their deep ties to each other, to the biosphere, and to the cosmos. They develop greater empathy with people and cultures near and far and greater sensitivity to animals, plants, and the entire biosphere (Laszlo, Quantum Shift in the Global Brain, 125) This will be problematic for those who cling to Axial religions and their less expansive moral teachings, and as with the basic beliefs as discussed in previous posts, it will take a very long time (as evolution always does) to develop a more defined set of post-Axial moral principles. But whatever form those principles take is sure to be one which will reflect a moral commitment on a global, planetary, trans-species scale, covering not only humans, but all sentient beings. Aurobindo In one of the more peculiar coincidences in the world of 20th century religious and philosophical thought, at the same time that the French priest Teilhard de Chardin was developing his evolutionary model of religion, the Indian revolutionary-turned-Hindu Vedanta yogi Aurobindo Ghose was developing a remarkably similar model in India, each without knowledge of the other’s work. Each was familiar with the story of biological evolution as developed by Darwin, and each created a model in which biological evolution was extended to the evolution of consciousness and hence also to what they both saw as an emerging future spirituality. There is no evidence to suggest that Aurobindo knew anything about Teilhard’s work (which is to be expected, given that the Catholic Church suppressed the publication of his philosophical and religious works), and there is only a brief account of Teilhard, late in his life, reading part of Aurobindo’s Life Divine and commenting that it appeared to be essentially an Asian version of his own ideas. Born in 1872, Aurobindo Ghose (Shri Aurobindo to his followers) lived most of his life in India, until his death in 1950. His only noteworthy travel outside India was for a university education at Cambridge, where he was exposed to not only Darwin’s work on biological evolution but also earlier proponents of cultural evolution such as Hegel and Bergson. As a devout Hindu, Aurobindo was also familiar with the extensive Hindu philosophical tradition, from the early Vedas and Upanishads to the Vedantic philosophers such as Shankara and Ramanuja. After returning to India, Aurobindo became a prominent figure in the political resistance movement against British rule, ultimately leading to his arrest and imprisonment on terrorist charges. During his solitary confinement in prison, Aurobindo had a profound religious experience which eventually led him to move away from political life and toward a semi-reclusive life as a spiritual seeker and philosopher. Establishing an ashram in Pondicherry, and engaging in prolonged periods of solitude for the rest of his life, Aurobindo created an enormous opus of evolutionary spirituality, including the classics The Life Divine (1,130 pages in the English edition) and The Synthesis of Yoga (918 pages). In these and other works Aurobindo developed a sophisticated interpretation of a modernized Vedanta which was world-affirming, compatible with science, and evolutionary. At times Aurobindo's works, despite being composed in English, can be dense and ambiguous, partly the product of his effort to describe such a novel vision for which there was little precedent (other than, perhaps, in the work of his unknown contemporary, Teilhard), and partly due to his occasional use of sometimes non-traditional translations of Sanskrit words from ancient Hindu texts. Aurobindo might have written in English, but it sometimes seems as if he is thinking in Sanskrit. Like Teilhard, Aurobindo constructs a model which is empirically grounded in a scientific understanding of the evolution of the Cosmos. While both Teilhard and Aurobindo value the scriptural texts of their respective traditions of Christianity and Hinduism, neither sees their model as grounded in or dependent on sacred texts, doctrines, or other religious traditions. Both Teilhard and Aurobindo sprinkle passages from sacred texts throughout their writings, but always in the context of supporting observations that are rooted in empiricism, not the text. Aurobindo, working from an emanationist model which although grounded in science also has ancient roots in the Upanishads, sees the Cosmos as an unfolding evolutionary process of God/Brahman/Spirit emanating the material Universe (involution) and the long history of the Universe as the gradual restoration of awareness of its true spiritual source and nature (evolution). Similar to Teilhard, Aurobindo sees evolution as proceeding from matter to life to mind/consciousness. In Teilhard’s thought, the next step in the evolution of consciousness and the transformation of the human species is the Omega Point, which he variously and ambiguously characterizes as both God and the final stage of cosmic and human evolution. Similarly, Aurobindo posits an evolution of human consciousness into future stages of the Overmind and, in the culmination of evolution, the Supermind. As with Teilhard, Aurobindo’s account of these higher stages of the evolution of consciousness and their relationship (perhaps identity) with God/Brahman/Spirit can be somewhat vague and dense. And yet, considering that both Teilhard and Aurobindo attempt to articulate something that, in one sense at least, is not yet fully existent, such absence of clarity should not be surprising. One significant difference between Aurobindo and most of his predecessors in the Hindu Vedanta tradition is his positive evaluation of the material world. Aurobindo strongly objects to what is perhaps the dominant Vedantic position, defended by Shankara, that sees the material world as an illusion and advocates an ascetic denial of the value of this world. In his affirmation of this world as the emanated presence of the divine, Aurobindo shares with Teilhard a world-affirming perspective of the Cosmos, along with the recognition that it is an unfinished Cosmos that has yet to reach its evolutionary goal. Aurobindo and Teilhard have many critics in both the scientific and spiritual communities, and we hope to explore some of these criticisms in later posts. Nonetheless, both are certain to remain seminal figures in the development of a 21st century post-Axial spirituality which will, of necessity, be grounded in an evolutionary, rather than static, understanding of the Cosmos and all that emerges in it, including consciousness and religion. [Note: For those who wish to further explore Aurobindo’s thought, see The Life Divine and The Synthesis of Yoga. However, given the difficulty of these works, a more accessible starting point would be Satprem’s Sri Aurobindo: The Adventure of Consciousness or The Future Evolution of Man, a nicely organized anthology of passages from Aurobindo’s major works. For a comparative exploration of Teilhard and Aurobindo, see R.C. Zaehner’s Evolution and Religion: A Study in Sri Aurobindo and Pierre Teilhard de Chardin. Given some of his biases, Zaehner is not for everybody, but overall he offers a useful comparison of these two comparable but by no means identical expressions of evolutionary spirituality.]
Introduction As described in a previous post (Defining Evolutionary Religion), what we refer to as the “strong” version of evolutionary religion argues that the evolutionary process itself has a spiritual quality, in the sense that the evolution of the Cosmos is the product of the slow but persistent and progressive manifestation of Spirit in the Universe. There are several examples of strong evolutionary religion throughout history, going back as far as the Hindu Upanishads, the Chinese model of evolution from the Great Ultimate, and Plotinus’ teaching on evolution from the One. But from a contemporary perspective which fully incorporates a modern scientific sensibility, perhaps no thinker has been more influential than the French Jesuit priest and paleontologist, Pierre Teilhard de Chardin. Praised by some, dismissed as undeserving of serious consideration by others, Teilhard led a complex life that produced a unique and inspiring vision of the nature of our evolving Cosmos. His writings can be hard to fathom at times, and he frequently acknowledged that he struggled with communicating his vision in words. While the reader needs to plunge into Teilhard’s own writings to fully appreciate his work, here we present a short summary which hopefully will motivate some to further explore his vision of an evolutionary spirituality. A brief sketch of Teilhard’s life Teilhard was born into a devout Roman Catholic family in France in 1881. At an early age he joined the Society of Jesuits, of which he remained a member his entire life. Although ordained as a priest in 1911, Teilhard pursued a scientific career, achieving widespread recognition through extensive field research in paleontology and geology, including the discovery of “Peking Man” in China. From an early age, Teilhard sought answers to “Big Questions,” and through his academic and scientific pursuits, he came to embrace evolution as the key to understanding the unfolding of the endless variety of Earth’s life forms. Teilhard’s entire adult life was spent developing a vision that reconciled his scientific commitment to evolution with his equally firm experience of the reality and presence of Spirit. Unfortunately, the Roman Catholic Church of the early twentieth century did not share Teilhard’s acceptance of the theory of evolution. After learning of Teilhard’s early speculations on the religious implications of an evolutionary cosmology, his superiors in the Church revoked his teaching position in Paris and prohibited him from publishing any of his work on the relationship between evolution and spirituality. Teilhard fought in vain against this prohibition, leading to a lifelong struggle with the Church. In practical terms, he was exiled to China by the Church, where he continued his work in paleontology for over two decades, all the while continuing to work out his reconciliation of religion and evolution in his personal writings which were shared only with his closest friends. The pathos of Teilhard’s life is heartbreaking: he was burning with a vision of an evolutionary spirituality which he believed would offer humanity in an age of science a path to retain and even deepen its spirituality, but forbidden by the Church to publicly share this vision. Privately, however, he never stopped refining that vision and sharing it with confidantes, right up until his death from a heart attack in New York City in 1955. After his death, however, things changed quickly and dramatically. As sometimes happens with a repressed vision, once released from control of the Church, Teilhard’s thought burst forth in worldwide recognition. Writings that once were secretly shared only with close friends through mimeographed copies were published worldwide, including the book which established his international reputation, The Human Phenomenon (originally published in English under the title The Phenomenon of Man); another book-length treatment of his vision, The Divine Milieu; and multiple collections of his dozens of essays (the collection of essays published in book form under the title The Heart of Matter is an excellent starting point for exploring Teilhard’s thought, as is John Haught’s The Cosmic Vision of Teilhard de Chardin). Teilhard’s work continues to be controversial, and is certainly not without critics, but he remains the forefather of evolutionary spirituality, influencing figures such as Thomas Berry, Brian Swimme, Ilia Delio, and many others working to reconcile science and religion. Teilhard’s Evolutionary Spirituality The foundation of Teilhard’s thought is the acceptance of an evolutionary cosmology, and it is from the evolutionary process that Teilhard sees spirituality and religion emerging. The theme that runs through every page of Teilhard’s vision is the recognition that we live in a Universe that has evolved over a period of close to 14 billion years. Teilhard may have remained a committed Catholic, but his writings contain only occasional references to Bible passages or church dogma. Where references to Scripture and Christian dogma are found, they are often in the context of a cosmicized interpretation that many traditional Christians are not likely to recognize. For Teilhard, religion, or the human consciousness of Spirit, is best understood primarily as the product of the natural evolutionary process rather than a discrete supernatural revelation. Teilhard believed that an honest, empirical, rational examination of evolution, free from both sectarian religious prejudice and the prejudice of scientific materialism, demonstrated that there is an orderliness, or teleology, to the evolutionary process. Specifically, over very long periods of time (and with periods of regression), evolution eventually produces increased levels of complexity in the Universe (from simple particles to elements to compounds to unicellular life forms to multi-cellular life forms to, eventually, entities with sufficient complexity for something new to emerge in the Universe: consciousness, thought, subjectivity, interiority). In the human species consciousness eventually evolves to the point of achieving an awareness of the non-physical, or spiritual dimension of the Cosmos. In a sense, in humanity, the Cosmos awakens and evolving matter becomes conscious of itself. Religion is the product of humanity’s attempts (necessarily groping, partial, and often inaccurate) to make sense of this awakening sense of Spirit. Teilhard referred to the emergence of a layer of conscious beings across the planet as the Noosphere, or layer of thought/mind/consciousness. Just as at an earlier point in Earth’s planetary evolution the realm of matter had evolved to the point of the emergence of living entities, or a Biosphere, so the Biosphere, over the span of millions of years of evolutionary development, culminated in the emergence of the Noosphere. But Teilhard saw no evidence to suggest that this evolutionary process (which he called the law of complexity/consciousness) would cease with the emergence of the human species, and suggested that evolution will continue in the direction of increasingly complex entities with increasingly expansive consciousness. In his boldest speculation, he suggested that, as per the universal tendency toward increasing levels of unified complexity, the human species would eventually develop a unified global consciousness in which individual human units would expand their consciousness to become, in essence, a global, Earth consciousness (thus anticipating the concepts of trans/post-humanism and Gaia consciousness that would develop in the decades following Teilhard’s death). Teilhard saw the evolutionary process culminating in what he called (some would argue quite ambiguously and mysteriously) the Omega Point. Teilhard seems to employ a dual usage of Omega Point, both as the conscious global entity that emerges as the pinnacle of human evolution, but also as the already and always existent Transcendent Spirit (“God” for traditionalists). Teilhard never fully worked out the implications of this dual sense of Omega. In more traditional terms, it seems to represent a sense of both the transcendent nature of Spirit (God) and the immanent presence of Spirit in the Cosmos, with the added dimension of being an immanent presence that is not static but rather constantly evolving toward ever greater fullness of presence in the world. Clearly, Teilhard believed that we can’t explain either the orderly, progressive nature of evolution, or the emergence of a non-physical reality (consciousness) from matter, in purely materialist terms. For Teilhard, the explanation requires acknowledgment of a Spirit which initiates, drives, and is the goal of the process: God/Omega – although a God that might not look very familiar to traditional theists. But Teilhard was not naïve. He recognized that even though the evolutionary process produced something sublime and beautiful in the emergence of life and conscious beings with the capacity to intuit the presence and nature of Spirit, he also recognized that the evolutionary process is a brutal and wasteful one, presenting the contradiction of how a spiritual process could be so cruel. This, of course, is a contemporary, evolution-based version of the classic problem of Theodicy: how can a good God be responsible for a world full of suffering, pain, cruelty, etc.? Teilhard acknowledged the issue, but never developed a meaningful response to the problem (although, in fairness to Teilhard, neither has any human, over millennia of philosophical and spiritual speculation, managed to resolve this question). Response and Legacy Like any human attempt to comprehend and communicate to others the nature of the Absolute through the epistemologically and spiritually limited vehicle of human language, Teilhard’s’ work has its share of flaws. Not surprisingly, both the religious and scientific communities were split on their response to Teilhard, with both religious and scientific traditionalists condemning his thought (for quite different reasons) and more progressive voices in both communities praising him as the creator of a science-compatible religion that fully-informed 20th century citizens could believe in. Teilhard continues to be a polarizing figure, but his legacy will remain as perhaps the first person to create a cosmic spiritual vision that fully recognizes the immensity of the Cosmos, the vastness of time, and the evolutionary process driving that Cosmos - a spirituality which is firmly grounded in an experience of Spirit, but is still compatible with not just science but with the full range of 21st century sensibilities. As such, Teilhard de Chardin will continue to exercise profound influence on the evolution of religion in this century and beyond. (Curiously, while Teilhard was developing his evolutionary theology, the one-time anti-British Indian revolutionary, Aurobindo Ghose, was developing a remarkably similar evolutionary model in India, apparently without knowledge of Teilhard’s similar and near-simultaneous work. We will look at Aurobindo’s thought in a later post.) A New Basis for Faith
Our traditional religions, rooted in 2000-year old Axial Age spirituality, tend to be belief-oriented. That is to say, being religious is understood as primarily a cognitive act of choosing to think that certain propositions, as articulated in specific creeds, sacred texts, dogmas, theologies, etc., are true. However, the credibility of sacred texts and detailed doctrinal beliefs has been significantly diminished by the epistemological humility which, as described in a previous post, has emerged as a consequence of recognizing the cultural and historical contextual nature of all such propositional statements. But if the future of religion is not grounded in doctrine, dogma, and reliance on divinely revealed sacred texts, then what will it be based on? What’s left as the basis for religious faith once our confidence in these traditional Axial Age elements of religion has been substantially diminished? We are suggesting that the religion of the future will likely be less rooted in declarative statements, theological arguments, and stories from ancient texts, and more grounded in the everyday awareness of the sacred quality of reality that remains available to people of faith even after the legitimacy of the doctrines and texts of the past have lost much of their credibility. In other words, religious faith will be grounded in experience, which is to say, an empirical awareness of the sacred dimension of existence in its countless manifestations. Religious experience will replace propositional belief as we move further into a post-Axial 21st century spirituality. Understanding Religious Experience Of course, one might reasonably ask: What exactly is a religious experience? What’s it like to have a religious experience? How do I have a religious experience? Things get quite tricky here, since “religious experience” is an overly broad term that encompasses an extraordinary range of diverse and even sometimes contradictory experiences. It also is something that, to someone who has never had such an experience, can seem to be remote, vague, and perhaps even unintelligible, while to the person who has had a religious experience, even if only on one occasion for a few seconds, the impact can be life changing and long lasting. So briefly, let’s try to make sense of it. Put simply, religious experience in the most general terms simply refers to a deeply felt sense of the sacred, an awareness of Spirit, an immediate experience that conveys a sense that there is a spiritual dimension to existence, which in turn affirms a deep sense that we live in a meaningful Cosmos. Reality is experienced as more than just particles in various arrangements positioned in time and space. Reality is experienced as something with a fundamental, real, essential element of value, meaning, and goodness. Such an experience can occur in the context of the symbols and constructs of one’s own religion, but a religious experience can equally occur as simply a vague but powerful and convincing intuition which is completely independent of the beliefs and doctrines of any specific religious tradition. A religious experience is one which conveys a clear and powerful sense that there is “Something More” to reality than just matter and energy, and that Something More is what gives meaning and value and goodness to existence – even though the precise nature of that Something More might be vague and elusive. Such an experience of Spirit is, of course, quite different from the cognitive act of belief in Spirit. It is quite different from an intellectual understanding of propositional statements found in doctrine and dogma. It is an experience which is direct, powerful, and laden with a sense of ultimate truth. For someone who has not had a direct experience of Spirit, perhaps the best way to convey the unique nature of religious experience and its difference from traditional proposition-based faith is by analogy to something from everyday life: just as talking or reading about the taste of salt is one thing and actually experiencing the taste of salt is quite another, so with religious experience we see the difference between talking and reading about Spirit (in doctrines, dogma, sacred texts, etc.) and actually having a direct experiential encounter with the spiritual dimension of the Cosmos. Indeed, some would argue that religious experience is the very foundation of religion, with doctrines and texts representing inadequate attempts to put into words an actual experience of sacred reality, an experience which – not unlike the taste of salt, but magnified infinitely – can never be adequately put into words since what one is encountering – Spirit, God, the sacred – is so infinitely different than anything else that we experience as human creatures. But, for reasons that we don’t have space to go into here, humans experience Spirit in many different ways. The ecstatic experience of an indigenous shaman, the meditative Samadhi of a Buddhist meditator, the emotional experience of a Pentecostal Christian, the Hindu’s experience of the sweet, loving quality of Lord Krishna, the Daoist experience of the Cosmic order of the Universe, Thoreau’s experience of the sacred quality of the natural world so beautifully described in the Solitude chapter of Walden: all of these are religious experiences in the sense that they are direct encounters with an aspect of the sacred or Spirit. William James was perhaps the first to attempt to categorize the diversity of religious experience in his 1902 classic work, The Varieties of Religious Experience. Others have followed in James’ footsteps, including Ken Wilber’s more contemporary attempt to categorize different types of spiritual experience in terms of a hierarchical model of transpersonal states of consciousness. But religious experience often is difficult to categorize since it can be just part of everyday life, occurring with such profound subtlety that it can be difficult to even articulate exactly what constitutes the essential characteristics of such an experience. Accordingly, when we suggest that religion in the 21st century will be grounded in religious experience, we are not suggesting that future believers will be full-blown mystics who walk around in something like altered states of consciousness rooted in intense, prolonged, ecstatic experiences of the Sacred. Such overwhelming, rapturous experiences do indeed occur, but they are just one type of spiritual experience. Equally valid and compelling is the everyday, ordinary sense of a spiritual dimension to the Cosmos, an often vague but also confident sense that there really is “Something More” than a Universe of time, space, matter, and energy. This perception of a spiritual dimension does not require intensive and difficult spiritual practices leading to a clearly identifiable moment of overwhelming spiritual illumination. Certainly such extraordinary religious experiences happen, and they are profoundly meaningful in the spiritual lives of those who have them. But for the everyday person of faith who has neither the opportunity nor the interest to pursue the rigorous practices that lead to such experiences, there is the simple, humble, easily acquired sense of Something – a Something which is supremely Good and which confers meaning to the Cosmos, even in spite of the daily messes, challenges, and tragedies of normal, everyday human existence. Leaving doctrines and sacred texts aside, each person still has access to those subtle, quiet, yet powerfully meaningful moments when one senses the presence of Spirit, the presence of the indefinable Something More that has never been adequately captured in doctrinal statements or pronouncements in sacred texts. Signs of a Transition We can already see the emergence of this more experientially-oriented approach to religion in the growth of the “spiritual but not religious” population. Numerous polls have consistently found a steady growth in the number of people who, on the one hand, do not consider themselves to be “religious” in the sense of formally belonging to an existing tradition or accepting the doctrines of a given faith, while on the other hand identifying as “believers” in the sense of affirming the existence of a spiritual reality. In a sense, this trend is the leading edge of what might likely continue to evolve from a fringe movement to the most common expression of religion in the future: experiential, or empirical spirituality. Some would contend that returning to a more experiential-based faith will actually be equivalent to a return to a meaning of “faith” that brings us back to the origin of religion and that from which verbal expressions of faith (texts, doctrine, dogma, etc.) function as secondarily derived elements. Belief in a proposition about an event in history whose veracity must be accepted without evidence, or “blind faith,” is quite different from belief in a statement about the nature of reality that can be confirmed by one’s own immediate awareness, or experiential faith. In the present era when many of the traditional bases for religious faith are no longer credible for much of the educated population that thinks in 21st century terms, religious experience stands out as the most reliable, substantial, unassailable basis for belief in a spiritual reality. Hence, rather paradoxically, after three millennia religion may be evolving forward toward something that was prominent in the distant past: a direct, immediate awareness of the presence of the spiritual dimension of the Cosmos. The Future of Sacred Texts
If human consciousness evolves over time, it follows that our capacity for perception and comprehension also changes over time. Humans in the 21st century, operating in a different mode of consciousness than, say, humans in the Paleolithic era, simply perceive certain aspects of reality in different ways than did our ancient ancestors. It would follow that as our consciousness evolves, our capacity to perceive or sense the spiritual dimension also evolves. For example, the vestiges of religion from the late Paleolithic era suggest that human consciousness of the sacred at that time differed from the awareness of the sacred that developed several centuries later in what we now call the Axial Age religions (for a more precise model of the evolution of human consciousness, see the work of the Swiss philosopher Jean Gebser,whose model identifies the stages of archaic, magical, mythical, mental (rational), and integral consciousness. Gebser’s model was subsequently expanded by Ken Wilber to include transpersonalspiritual modes of consciousness). If the evolution of human consciousness includes changes in the human capacity to perceive the spiritual dimension, it further follows that attempts to articulate our sense of the sacred also change over time in conjunction with these changing modes of consciousness. Humans not only experience a sense of Spirit, they also try to communicate this sense through language, and when this communication becomes written, we have what have come to be generically referred to as sacred texts, as found in all of the major religious traditions. But as we enter into the 21st century, we must ask if the existing sacred texts, as the product of an earlier modality of spiritual consciousness, are still relevant. Some would argue that existing religious texts have lost their credibility in light of the rational/scientific mode of awareness that was not as fully developed when those texts were composed as it is today. Belief in a seven day creation was more credible when a pre-scientific mode of awareness rooted in a static concept of the universe was dominant. But that is no longer the case. Others would argue that, as a consequence of the expanding circle of moral concern that has accompanied the slow evolution of spiritual consciousness, some existing sacred texts are not morally credible, as seen for example in the portrayal of God as a temperamental, capricious, angry, vengeful being, who sometimes seems to act in a manner that would be considered morally unacceptable if engaged in by a teenager today. But such a wholesale rejection of these revered ancient texts would seem to be a misguided over-reaction. Yes, we should be honest in acknowledging that these texts contain much material that simply is not credible to a fully-informed 21st century sensibility. But we also must acknowledge that there is much wisdom in these texts, and this wisdom accounts for the enduring influence of these writings despite the fact that certain parts of the texts have lost credibility. And yet, as we move forward into the 21st century and beyond, clearly we need to re-examine our understanding of these ancient texts (their content, how they originated, their validity in the context of a 21st century sensibility, etc.) and, perhaps more importantly, consider what the sacred texts of a post-Axial type of religion might look like. This is an enormous issue, which is explored in more detail in Thinking About Religion in the 21st Century. For our purposes here, perhaps it would be easier to first affirm what the sacred texts of the future forms of religion are not going to be like:
With regard to positive content, an evolutionary spirituality would suggest that the sacred texts of the religion of the future will likely be:
The skeptic of this perspective on the future of sacred texts might understandably ask: where will these texts come from? If there is no revelation from God in the manner of the Abrahamic traditions or the words of an enlightened Buddha-like being, where will the content of such texts come from? We should first pay tribute to traditional sacred texts and acknowledge that we are in no manner suggesting that there will be a wholesale rejection of those revered writings. To the contrary, one source of future sacred texts will be the existing sacred texts that were written over the course of the past 2500 years. As acknowledged above, amidst the parochial prejudices of those writings we also find abiding universal truths, and such meaningful content from the traditional texts should be retained. The beatitudes of Jesus, exhortations toward social justice in the prophets of the Hebrew Bible and Qur’an, the moral aphorisms of Confucius, the cosmic sense of the Neo-Confucian Western Inscription and the Hindu Upanishads, the depiction of divine love and human devotion in the Bhagavad Gita – we could go on and on with examples of the abiding wisdom which is found in traditional texts and explains their persistence over the centuries. But the essential content of the sacred texts of the future is likely to develop organically (as did the sacred texts of the existing traditions, despite the denial of such origins by many believers) as the product of the ongoing spiritual experience of humans whose mode of consciousness makes possible a sense of Spirit that resonates with contemporary believers. Those texts which most effectively articulate the sense of Spirit available to humans in the 21st century will over time make their way into collections that function, as do existing sacred texts, as guides to the religious life, even while those texts are also understood as the product of human authors and exceptional human spiritual experience, rather than supernatural revelations. Humans – as least for now – need words to communicate, and words inevitably get strung together to construct more complex ideas, which eventually find their way into books. So humans in the 21st century, in an effort to communicate the sense of Spirit which they experience, will certainly produce the equivalent of sacred books, with the differences from traditional sacred texts referenced above. Saying nothing is not an option, even when we realize that whatever we say is necessarily a partial and imperfect effort to describe that which can be dimly experienced or sensed or intuited, but never adequately described. So we will continue to say something about Spirit and continue to produce “sacred” texts, but hopefully with a new sense of honesty, humility, and wonder. Evolutionary Religion Defined The explorations on this website suggest a strong connection between religion and an evolutionary cosmology. That is, in order to think meaningfully about religion in the 21st century, we need to recognize that we live in a universe that evolves. One can debate the specific mechanism of evolution (traditional Darwinism, Neo-Darwinism, even contemporary non-materialist interpretations such as that of Teilhard de Chardin), but the reality of the process of evolution (both biological and cultural) is assumed here as a necessary component of our understanding of religion and its possible future expressions. In a sense, then, like many contemporary explorations into religion from a non-traditional point of departure, we are working from the perspective of what is sometimes called evolutionary religion. But here is the problem with “evolutionary religion”: there is no clear definition of what it means! Hence, before proceeding further, in this post we hope to at least partially clarify what is meant by evolutionary religion. Immediately, however, we run into a challenge: there are two quite different ways in which “evolutionary religion” is being defined and used. Those two different definitions are for the most part compatible but, as we hope to clarify below, one definition tends to restrict itself to a descriptive function, while the other moves beyond empirical description to suggest that evolution itself has a spiritual dimension. The first definition sees religion as the product of the evolutionary process; the second definition sees the evolutionary process itself as an actual manifestation of Spirit, meaning that in the broadest sense, evolution is a spiritual phenomenon. In an effort to sort out and clarify this distinction, we will differentiate these two basic interpretations of evolutionary religion as weak/descriptive evolutionary religion and strong/spiritual evolutionary religion. “Weak” and “strong” are not used here in evaluative, critical terms to suggest a difference in qualitative value. Rather, the terms are used with reference to the intended scope of the two definitions, as should become clearer below. Weak/Descriptive Evolutionary Religion Weak, or descriptive, evolutionary religion asserts that religion changes or evolves over time, generally in the direction of a fuller understanding or sense of Spirit, and this evolutionary quality of religion is understood to be the product of an evolutionary process (biological and cultural) that has produced conscious beings which have the capacity to perceive (however dimly and imperfectly) the existence of a spiritual dimension to the Cosmos. Evolutionary religion of the weak/descriptive sort does not negate the possibility of discrete acts of divine revelation such as those which form the basis for most traditional religions, but it does suggest that belief in such events is not necessary to be a religious believer. Weak/descriptive evolutionary religion is a naturalistic account of religion with a twist: whereas as naturalism is usually equated with materialism or physicalism, weak evolutionary religion suggests that the “natural” process of evolution in the Cosmos has resulted in at least one species (humans – and perhaps more elsewhere in the Universe) which has developed the capacity to sense or intuit that the totality of the “natural” world includes more than just the dimension of matter/time/space/energy: the totality of the Cosmos includes Spirit, and this is known (again, quite dimly) not through a discrete top-down act of divine revelation in the past but rather through our evolved human capacity to perceive the spiritual dimension of the Cosmos. Weak/descriptive evolutionary religion is exemplified by the recent work of contemporary philosopher J.L. Schellenberg, both in his more strictly philosophical works and in a shorter work accessible to the general reader, Evolutionary Religion. Schellenberg situates the ever-changing nature of religion in the context of a fully informed temporal contextualization, which is to say, a recognition that the human species is at a very early stage of its historical existence, and as such should be seen as an “immature’ species which has only begun to penetrate the nature of Spirit. As humanity matures, our understanding of Spirit will expand, and religion will change – perhaps in rather dramatic fashion. But even though Schellenberg asserts that religion is the product of an evolving and progressive understanding of Spirit, he does not characterize the evolutionary process itself as a spiritual one. Strong/Spiritual Evolutionary Religion By contrast, strong/spiritual evolutionary religion does not hesitate to describe the evolutionary process as a spiritual process which is somehow driven by a spiritual force toward a spiritual goal. There are several examples of strong/spiritual evolutionary religion, but three of the most notable ones are found in the works of Teilhard de Chardin, Aurobindo, and Ken Wilber. We will touch on all three in future posts, but for now, just to provide a stronger sense of what strong/spiritual evolutionary religion is all about, let’s take a brief look at Teilhard Pierre Teilhard de Chardin (1881-1955) was a French priest and paleontologist. In many ways, Teilhard was a paradox, as evidenced for instance in how he remained a faithful ordained Catholic priest throughout his life while building a successful secular career as a paleontologist, all the while developing an evolution-based theology that reflected such a radical departure from traditional Christian dogma that he was forbidden to publish or teach by the Catholic Church. Only after his death were Teilhard’s extensive writings on an evolutionary interpretation of religion transformed from mimeographed sheets secretly shared among a largely hidden but growing community of sympathizers to mainstream publication and both widespread acclaim and harsh criticism (by both traditional Christians and materialist scientists). The foundation of Teilhard’s thought is the acceptance of an evolutionary cosmology: the starting point of Teilhard’s theology and the theme that runs through every page is the recognition that we live in a Universe that has evolved over a period of close to 14 billion years. Teilhard may have remained a committed Catholic, but his writings contain scant references to Bible passages or church dogma. Where references to Bible passages and Christian dogma are found, they are often in the context of a cosmicized interpretation that traditional Christians are not likely to recognize. Teilhard believed that an honest, empirical, rational examination of evolution, free from any sectarian religious prejudice, demonstrated that there is an orderliness, or teleology, to the process. Specifically, over long periods of time (and with periods of regression), evolution eventually produces increased levels of complexity in the Universe (from simple particles to elements to compounds to unicellular life forms to multi-cellular life forms to, eventually, entities with sufficient complexity for something new to emerge in the Universe: consciousness, thought, subjectivity, interiority). In the human species this evolved consciousness includes an awareness of the non-physical, or spiritual dimension of the Cosmos. In a sense, in humanity, the Cosmos awakens and becomes conscious of itself. Religion is the product of humanity’s attempts to make sense of this awakening sense of Spirit. Teilhard saw no evidence to suggest that this evolutionary process (which he called the law of complexity/consciousness) would cease with the emergence of the human species, and suggested that evolution will continue in the direction of increasingly complex entities with increasingly expansive consciousness, culminating in what he called (some would argue rather ambiguously and mysteriously) the Omega Point (bear with me here: Omega Point is perhaps the fuzziest piece of Teilhard’s thought, so we will need to wait until a later post to tackle it). Teilhard believed that we can’t explain either the orderly, progressive nature of evolution, or the emergence of a non-physical reality (consciousness) from matter, in purely materialist terms. For Teilhard, the explanation requires acknowledgment of a Spirt which initiates, drives, and is the goal of the process: God – although a God that might not look very familiar to traditional theists. Remarkably, while Teilhard was developing his evolutionary theology, the one-time anti-British Indian revolutionary, Aurobindo Ghose, developed a remarkably similar model of evolutionary spirituality, apparently without knowledge of Teilhard’s similar and near-simultaneous work. More recently, the prolific but controversial transpersonal/integral thinker Ken Wilber has proposed his own evolutionary spirituality model, largely free from any sectarian connection to an existing religious tradition (unlike Teilhard who, at least nominally, remained a Roman Catholic Christian, and Aurobindo, whose evolutionary vision was rooted in the Hindu Vedanta tradition). Differences between these three (and other) proponents of a strong version of evolutionary spirituality are many, but Teilhard, Aurobindo, Wilber, and other strong spiritual evolutionaries all agree that evolution and religion are entirely compatible, and that the evolutionary process itself is the result of the gradual emergence of Spirit in the Cosmos. Religion is not about faith in an event of supernatural revelation in the past, but rather about recognition of the ongoing and ever-expanding presence of Spirit in the Cosmos, culminating for the moment, at least in our little corner of the Universe, in a species that has achieved the epistemological capacity to intuitively sense the presence of Spirit. Going Forward As we explore evolutionary religion in future posts, we will always do so from at least a weak/descriptive angle, and at times we will explore various expressions of the strong/spiritual evolutionary religion model. In all cases, we will be examining religion from the point of view that in order for religion to remain credible to a fully informed 21st century sensibility, it must be accepted as something that, like consciousness, evolves over time. We have arrived at a key point of transition from the traditional static Axial Age religions of the past to a post-Axial form of evolutionary religion whose contours have barely begun to emerge, leading to a situation of considerable confusion and uncertainty for those who reject the religions of the past but do not see any viable alternatives emerging. But they will emerge.
Defining a “fully informed 21st century sensibility”
Introduction On this blog site and in the forthcoming book, Thinking About Religion in the 21st Century, we frequently refer to a “21st century sensibility,” and suggest that in light of that sensibility, religion in the coming years will change dramatically as certain aspects of traditional religions, founded 2000 and more years ago in the Axial Age, lose their credibility. So given the significant role of this phrase, perhaps we should take a moment to define what is meant by a “21st century sensibility.” First, let’s clarify what a 21st century sensibility does not mean: it certainly is not meant to suggest that humans in the 21st century have achieved some superior state of enlightenment. Intellectually, morally, spiritually, and in many other ways contemporary humans remain very imperfect creatures with a remarkable capacity to think irrationally, make mistakes, do great harm to each other, do perhaps even greater harm to the non-human parts of the planet, and just in general, think and act in a manner that is indicative of a very imperfect species. As traditional Christian theology would put it, humanity continues to provide ample evidence of our “fallen” status. But amidst that general continuation of human imperfection, there clearly are certain ways in which humans today think and act differently than humans did during the Axial Age when the existing world religions originated. Humanity, while still far from perfect and, one might argue, a threat to the existence of the entire planet, has nonetheless changed in some meaningful ways, and it’s those meaningful changes (existing side by side with the perennial human flaws) which we are referring to when we reference a 21st century sensibility. Specifically, we would suggest that this sensibility includes (but is not limited to) the following components: 1. Historical awareness Humans in the 21st century display a widespread historical awareness. We recognize that things change over time. This change includes human institutions, including religion. In order to understand the nature and value of something, it is necessary to investigate its historical context and development: what were the circumstances that led to its origin, what circumstances influenced its changes over time, etc. As applied to religion, this entails a considerable skepticism about the belief that religious texts, doctrines, rituals, and authority structures have a divine origin. Indeed, an entire field of study, the History of Religions, developed in the twentieth century based on this basic premise. Any credible perspective on religion must take into account this historical dimension. 2. Scientific awareness The explanatory power of science in explaining phenomena in the world of matter, or the “natural” world, is so overwhelming that the acceptance of scientific explanation in the 21st century hardly needs elaboration here. As applied to religion in the 21st century, however, acceptance of this role of science means that any credible religious perspective must be compatible with the scientific explanation of the natural world. Science works as an explanatory device for understanding the realms of matter/energy, and a credible religion must acknowledge this. 3. Post-mythic consciousness The existing traditional religions emerged at a time when myth (stories about superhuman beings performing super-human tasks) was commonly used as an explanatory device, especially with regard to aspects of the world which were seen as mysteries. Lacking an explanation of why the sun consistently rose in the East and set in the West according to a rather precise pattern, stories were created about a god (Apollo, Surya, and many more) who rode or otherwise controlled the orderly movement of this heavenly body. But mythic explanations have been supplanted by scientific explanations with regard to natural phenomena, and a credible 21st century religion must accept this fact. Religion which is rooted in supernatural explanations of scientifically explainable natural phenomena is not credible to a fully-informed 21st century citizen. This does not mean that religion has no basis! To the contrary, this entire site, and Thinking About Religion in the 21st Century, are both an extended argument in support of religion, but a religion that is credible to a 21st century sensibility. This means a religion that is grounded not in mythic explanations of natural phenomena but rather in faith in the basic assertion that we live in a Universe in which meaning and value are real, fundamental, ontological elements. A 21st century spiritual outlook is one that affirms that while there is indeed a transcendent meaning to our existence, that meaning and its related moral value can no longer be effectively described and communicated through ancient mythic language. 4. Critical sensibility The notion of a critical sensibility is not so much something different from the above three components of a 21st century sensibility, but rather a category that underlies all three. By “critical”, of course, we do not mean negative criticism per se, but rather an orienting perspective that always looks for deeper explanations and does not settle for how things look at first glance or how things are commonly understood by the prevailing unexamined beliefs and ideals of one’s culture. Whether looking at natural phenomena or human/cultural phenomena, including religion, a 21st century sensibility seeks to understand the origin and nature of things, incorporating the categories of historical, scientific, and post-mythic consciousness which we have described above. This is problematic for certain aspects of traditional, Axial Age-based religions. A 21st century religion must be one that can stand up to such critical scrutiny, and traditional religions, at least in certain ways, cannot do so for many contemporary citizens. Hence, as we have proposed from the beginning: religion needs to change, and in some ways radically so. 4. Cross-cultural/global perspective The existing religions all originated at a time when communication between distant cultures was non-existent for most humans and severely limited even to the elites who had sufficient wealth and power to travel long distances. This meant that, 2000 years ago, it was easy to believe in the god of your own culture since you had little or no exposure to any alternatives. But dramatic changes in transportation, communication, and literacy are slowly but steadily transforming humanity from a localized to a global species. Given this accessibility to the ideas, values, practices, etc. of other cultures, it is irresponsible for a 21st century citizen to narrow-mindedly cling to the notion that only his/her culture holds the “right” ideas. We live in the context of global knowledge, and our consciousness should reflect this accordingly. When applied to religion, this global consciousness means that allegiance to claims of religious exclusivity by traditions which emerged in isolated cultures of the past loses all credibility. The religion of the future must be a religion that incorporates elements from any and all traditions. The religion of the future must be globally-grounded, not parochial, and to the extent that traditional religions refuse to recognize this, they are likely to wither away. 5. Global moral sensibility Over the centuries, the human sense of moral responsibility has moved in a slow but ever-widening circle. Whereas early humans might have felt a sense of responsibility only to their family, this eventually expanded to a sense of moral responsibility to larger units, from tribe to clan to ethnic group. With the emergence of the classical civilizations, we see moral responsibility extended beyond kin and tribal connections to members of one’s larger socio-political unit, such as a nation-state or empire. But in a 21st century sense of moral responsibility, that sense of responsibility is extended, at a minimum, to all people, regardless of race, ethnicity, nationality, etc. Moral responsibility has assumed a global scope. Some would further suggest that a truly contemporary morality extends beyond the human species to other sentient beings – animals, plants, perhaps the entire biosphere, as we see in the ecological/environmental ethics that, while virtually unknown a mere century ago, are now quite commonplace, taught to children as early as kindergarten. As applied to religion, this means that a credible, morally acceptable 21st century spirituality must be one that includes such a global morality, and existing religious traditions, which emerged in the Axial Age with a more confined and restrictive sense of moral responsibility, may find it difficult to remain relevant in the coming years and decades. So what’s the point? We are suggesting that these components of a “21st century sensibility” are representative of how increasing numbers of people are thinking today. Certain ways of thinking have become widespread in the early 21st century to a degree which simply was not the case as late as the mid-20th century. The “average” sensibility has changed. What could once be found in the thought of exceptional individuals is now found in the general population. As applied to religion, this means that there are certain aspects of the way that many people think today that are incompatible with components of the traditional Axial religions. Consciousness has evolved. Hence our view of the world has evolved. And now religion, or our understanding of Spirit, must play catch-up and similarly evolve. To the extent that we are simply honest with ourselves (intellectually, morally, and spiritually) at the beginning of the 21st century, adherence to many traditional religious texts, creeds, doctrines, and practices won’t work. But the alternative isn’t disbelief: rather, the alternative is a form of belief that is appropriate to our time, a 21st century spirituality which is still in its infancy. Natural vs. Revealed Religion
In the previous post we suggested that religion should be seen as the product, rather than an enemy, of evolution – which is to say that religion owes its existence to the long process of the evolution of human consciousness. There are many ramifications of this naturalistic evolutionary understanding of religion, which we will explore in this and subsequent posts. To begin, consider two very different models of the origin of religion, traditionally referred to as revealed religion and natural religion. The revealed religion model views religion as being the product of a top-down act of revelation from a deity (usually male) to humanity, with that act occurring at a specific point or points in the distant past, leading to the creation of a sacred text which contains the content of that revelation. This is the understanding of religion that dominates the Abrahamic religions of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. In this model, religious knowledge and salvation are dependent on such a revelation. The natural religion model views religion as the product of the evolved human capacity to know God or Spirit, and hence is not dependent on a specific revelation event. In this model, a revelation event is not necessarily denied, but neither is a revelation necessary for humans to sense the spiritual dimension of reality. Clearly, on this site, which is addressed to contemporary persons who do not find traditional religion based solely on belief in an unverifiable past event to be a credible approach to faith, we are advocating for a contemporary, evolutionary version of natural religion. As I have suggested elsewhere (Thinking About Religion in the 21st century, 7-9, 189-190), we can look at religion as simply a natural product of the long, slow evolutionary development of the Cosmos, from the Big Bang 14 billion years ago through the emergence of elementary particles to simple elements to complex compounds to molecules to simple life forms to complex life forms which, eventually, produced the species which we identify as human, a species with a sufficiently complex neurological system to allow the emergence of something quite remarkable: reflective consciousness. Part of human consciousness consists of the capacity to perceive and reflect on sensory experience (sight, touch, sound, etc.). But the most remarkable development in the evolution of human consciousness occurred with the appearance of the capacity to perceive super-sensory aspects of the Cosmos. Human consciousness, in other words, evolved to the point where it made possible the perception (admittedly vague, dim, and intermittent) of Something More than the sensory world, Something More than the realm of time, space, matter, and sensory experience. Human consciousness evolved to the point where humans acquired the capacity to perceive Spirit, by whatever name one might choose to call it. And religion, including sacred texts and accounts of revelatory events, can be seen as the product of humanity’s attempts to make sense of, harness, articulate, tame, tell stories about, and otherwise master that Spiritual dimension that the human consciousness had evolved the capacity to sense. Or as put in Thinking About Religion: “There is reason to believe, in other words, that humans have developed an innate capacity for spiritual experience, or an innate capacity to experience their connectedness to part of something larger than their individual embodied self. Some have suggested that this spiritual capacity is an evolving aspect of human perception, such that just as humans have slowly evolved the capacity to engage in increasingly complex rational calculations, so they also have slowly evolved the capacity to directly experience the spiritual nature of the unitive reality that is the essence of spiritual experience. If this is the case, one could postulate that religious experience of this sort will continue to become more and more common in the coming centuries. “(189-190) From this perspective, religion is the natural product of the evolution of human consciousness. This does not in any way diminish the truth of the fundamental religious insight that Spirit/God/the Scared/Ultimacy/a Spiritual Dimension exists. To the contrary, this model provides support for such an insight, since it grounds that insight in empiricism and consciousness, albeit in a more expansive sense of empiricism and consciousness than traditional religion and science have been inclined to grant. Not only does this model free religious belief from dependence on a sacred text and belief in a top-down revelation, but it also provides support for our position that religion is constantly (slowly) changing, and as such we should anticipate the continued evolution of consciousness and spiritual awareness into the future, leading to new expressions of religious belief and practice. So for the 21st century citizen who is reluctant to identify as spiritual because of an unwillingness to accept the validity of a religious text grounded in supernatural revelatory events from centuries ago, another approach to the spiritual life is available: simply follow the natural path of the evolution of the Cosmos which has led to the emergence of beings (including you) with the intuitive capacity to sense the existence of Spirit. |
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