Philosophical Musings on God

So, I’m going to get a bit more philosophical than usual, and I hope it’s a trend that continues over the coming posts. The purpose of a blog is to share your thoughts and opinions with the world, not to bitch about your crappy day and expect people to care. I’m not saying that venting like that isn’t healthy, but as I’ve learned the hard way, grudges are best expressed in that secret Microsoft Word document on your computer, not on the Internet.

Quick background on those who don’t know me very well – I went to a private, Catholic school for eight years before coming to UT. Talk about a reality slap. I took religion/theology classes for sixteen consecutive semesters, so I like to consider myself pretty well steeped in Catholic dogma. All of this knowledge is a blessing and a curse. On one hand, I’ve been seeing the world through this lens for so long that I almost forgot that not everyone agrees with it. For example, in a biology discussion section last year, we were flogging around the creationism/evolution debate. Our TA mentioned how evolution contradicts the book of Genesis, and I promptly raised my hand and talked about how “pretty much everyone with a brain” sees all that as nothing but an allegory. About five hands went up, and the TA just goes, “Well, that’s one opinion…”

On the other hand, I have a pretty firm set of beliefs and the facts to back them up. This comes in handy during late-night philosophical discussions with whoever happens to be studying in the Carothers lobby. Last week, some friends and I were chilling on the front porch talking about Catholicism, and for whatever reason, the seven sacraments came up. I rattled them off in under ten seconds, something that surprised even me – I haven’t consciously thought about that stuff since sixth or seventh grade. We talked about various historical developments like the Inquisition and the Crusades, and I was able to hold my own. If nothing else, then, I can thank Cistercian for giving me the ability to sound intelligent every once in a while.

Anyway, on that same night, we started talking about what exactly “God” is. I remember all of those qualifications that Fathers Roch and Paul pounded into us, qualifications like omniscience, transcendence, immanence, “homoousious,” etc, but those are just descriptions. What is the essence, the fundamental nature, of God? My friend Libby introduced an idea by saying that it would forever change the way we thought about God. I was a bit skeptical at first, but since I’ve been thinking on it, she was kind of right. The gist of the conversation was this – I don’t think many people believe that God is a physical being. The idea of some corporeal figure lounging around on a planet somewhere, watching Earth through a giant pair of binoculars, doesn’t inspire much respect. Everywhere we go, we hear “God is perfect, God is everywhere, God’s spirit is within us.” Most people (well, at least me) just nod along and accept it without really thinking about what that might mean. The idea that completely blew my mind is this – what if, instead of saying, “God is perfect because He’s God,” you say, “God is God because he’s perfect?”

According to this thought, God is an idea. He’s an ideal. He’s THE ideal. He’s perfect truth, perfect love, perfect justice, all of that. These are the things that make Him God, though, not the other way around. He’s the embodiment and compilation of all of these “good” ideals rolled into one. God is a measuring stick. If you believe that there’s such a thing as perfect justice (not that mankind has already attained it, mind you, but that it’s possible to reach), then hey, guess what – you believe in God. If you believe that there’s such a thing as perfect love, whether it’s fraternal, romantic, whatever, then you believe in God, whether you know it or not. If you believe in the concept of total and complete fairness, an idea admittedly more socialist than Machiavellian, then you’re on the same wavelength as God. Anyone who believes that these ideals exist and are worth achieving believes in God, basically.

My senior year government teacher defined politics as “The struggle for the good life for man.” If by this “good life” we mean a system of perfect justice, perfect fraternity, a perfect economy, and an agreed-upon morality, then, by using these definitions, the purpose of politics is to attempt to achieve union with God. Once you throw out all of those technicalities and restrictions that various faiths and governments have piled up since the dawn of man, religion and politics are really the same thing.

That’s just something I’ve been thinking about over the weekend, thought I’d write it down before the concept gets pushed out by an Art History test or an Econ reading. I’m not saying I buy into it wholeheartedly, but it’s definitely an intriguing theory.