Commentaries
VVRS
Various Views On Religion and Science
1.
Reflections on Science and Religion
Homo
sapiens is one of millions of species that thrive and perish on this beautiful
buoy in the cosmic sea. Every species is unique in its own way. Humans are
unique in that because of the enormous complexity of their brains, the range and
variety of our experiences are greater than
those of any other biological entity. We eat, drink, procreate and
propagate like other creatures; but we also reflect and rejoice, sing and dance,
create art and science, build places of worship, conceptualize truth and
justice, and engage in a thousand other mentally, morally, and spiritually
enriching activities. Science and
religion are among the loftiest expressions of the human spirit.
Science
is a quest to explain the world, to understand natural phenomena in a
consistent, coherent, and rational framework. Through its meticulous methodology
science has shown the causes of rain and thunder and a thousand other things we
observe every day. It has also revealed the marvels of the microcosm, the
molecular bases of life, the magnificence of invisible galaxies invisible, and
much more. It has eradicated diseases afflicting the human body, and needless
fears afflicting the human mind.
Religions
arose from the recognition of the significance of consciousness in a mindless
universe. They have formulated ethical principles that channel our instincts for
gratification and restrain self-centered aggressive behavior. They have fostered
caring and compassion, inspired great art and glorious music, given rise to
subtle metaphysics, created magnificent architecture, and provoked massive
scholarship.
Religions
also carry the weight of tradition. Sacred
history which is deeply etched in the collective psyche of billions all over the
world tells us that religions emerged from the visions of Hindu sage-poets, from
the covenant of Moses with God, from the enlightenment of the Buddha, from the
commitment of Mahavira to non-violence, from the sermons of Jesus of Nazareth,
from the revelations to Prophet Mohammed, and from such momentous milestones in
the cultural saga of humanity.
The
core question in the conflict between science and religion is: Which is primary:
matter-energy or consciousness? From the scientific perspective, we live on an
inconsequential speck in the vastness surrounding us. Consciousness is but an
emergence from the brain which was an accidental eruption among the countless
random formations in a blind universe. It is but a glitch in the universe story,
a wink in the temporal stretch.
From
the religious perspective, the universe would be dismal as a dungeon without our
presence. But for us, all the dust and stone, planets and stars, waves and
vibrations would be cast in a dark expanse, unnoticed and unsung for all
eternity. Light and color, beauty and splendor arise but in human heads. From
science's perspective, we have descended from apes; from the religious
perspective we are also descended from poets and sages and saints. Science
informs us that the matter in us was formed in the core of supernovas; religions
affirm that the consciousness in us is related to the Cosmic Whole.
Science arises when the finite mind tries to grasp the infinite complexity of the world. Religious experience arises when the finite mind contemplates on the infinite mystery. Both science and religion instill awe for the wonders of the world, respect for the flora and fauna that enrich our planet, and reverence for air and fire, for sunlight and soil, for rivers and oceans and for all the myriad forces that sustain life.
2.
The traditional mode: views on revered personages
All
of us function in the framework of values and worldviews. Religions furnish us
with a grand backdrop for life which provides meaning and purpose in the
framework of a community. From this perspective, all of us are religious one way
or another. It has been rightly said that in a deeper sense human beings are
more religious than rational.
There
are many dimensions to religions. Of these, the two most important relate to the
theoretical framework and the practical aspect, and the associated value system.
There
are a variety of ways of being religious. Perhaps the most common one is what
may be called the traditional mode. Here too there can be a wide spectrum in
theory and practice. Generally speaking, on the theoretical side, a person
following the traditional mode accepts as absolute truth the sayings of the
recognized authorities of the tradition. In the Hindu world these include
saints, gurus, babas, and certain revered texts. Which of these one accepts will
depend on one's sectarian affiliation.
One
reason for this is that in the traditional framework,
certain historical personages are regarded as embodiments of the Divine,
or at least that they have achieved higher spiritual knowledge and wisdom,
either by virtue of their own spiritual efforts or through actions in previous
births.
Some
of them are historical personages. Such, for instance, are the saint-scholars
Shankaracharya and Ramanuja. Others are revered through the works they have left
behind, more than for their historicity. Such are the Vedas and the Upanishads.
Then, there are some instances of the text and its traditionally accepted
author. The Bhagavad Gita and Lord Krishna stand out as the supreme example in
this case.
Finally,
there are the current and more recent masters of spirituality. In the Hindu
world, every generation has its own foci of spiritual attention. During the past
century or so we have had, for example, Sri Ramakrishna Paramahamsa and Ramana
Maharishi, at least two Sai Babas, and Prabhupada, Ma, and others. They attract
numerous devotees who experience significant spiritual fulfillment in their
presence and from their teachings. Thus, aside from worship of the traditional
gods of the religion, one calls oneself a devotee or follower of this swami or
that guru.
I
recognize that such saintly personages provide - and have provided over time -
much comfort and spiritual experience to their countless followers, often
serving as the closest one gets to a god for the longings of many people. They
have attained what is generally recognized as spiritual enlightenment and the
associated charisma.
But
all this, to me, does not put them on a higher pedestal except in a community
setting. I have seen some of them, and I pay due respects to them with folded
hands in reverential modes. This comes to me as a result of cultural
conditioning. In other words, while
I respect such revered personages and their teachings, I have never been able to
take any of them as more divine than any other human being I run into in the
course of my everyday life.
Thus,
in my mind, the lives and thoughts of even the greatest swamis and saints of the
tradition are as subject to logical challenges and critical analyses as of any
philosopher or writer. I feel this way not only because, I rather suspect that
when this is done, one can always find aspects which are either objectionable or
not altogether as becoming of the near-god souls they are supposed to be, but
also because, in my view, no human being of whatever religion or stature or
reports of charisma, knows more about God and the hereafter than any other.
3.
Views on the Vedas
Every
religion has its sacred works. In the Christian tradition the Bible is reckoned
as the most sacred writing, and it is called Scripture (always with a capital
S). The term is used by English-speaking Hindus to describe the Vedas and other
such works revered in the tradition as Hindu scriptures. Technically, this is
not quite correct since Scripture literally refers to what has been written
down. Vedic mantras are believed to have been heard by rishis, and
transmitted from generation to generation through the oral tradition, and are
therefore more properly known as shruti (that which has been heard).
Be
that as it may, in the traditional framework, the Vedas are to be taken as
eternal knowledge. This is reasonable if one accepts that their sources
were super-human, and their contents revealed to Vedic rishis by a higher
source. There have been thinkers and religious movements within the Hindu
tradition that have rejected this thesis. Those who do not consider the Vedas to
be God-given are described as nâstikas by the orthodoxy.
A
few years ago, I attended a lecture by a swamiji who spoke fairly well about the
Vedas and their significance. He chanted some of the mantras beautifully. I was
very impressed with his knowledge and presentation. During the question and
answer period a student, who had not grown up in traditional Hindu
culture, asked the saffron-robed swamiji when the Vedas were composed. The
learned speaker answered something to the effect that the question that was
raised was "more blasphemous" to Hindus than Rushdie's Satanic Verses
were to Muslims. He went on to explain that the Vedas were eternal and
impersonal (apaurusheya), and have existed since the birth of the
universe.
The
young man had asked the question out of a genuine wish to know about his
tradition, and he felt terribly embarrassed. Was the swamiji wrong? I don't
know, but he was honest from the traditional perspective. Was the student
wrong in posing the question? Not in my view. I thought he was sincere and
no less honest. Though he was unfamiliar with the system in which
traditionalists look at such matters, his question was natural and valid in the
age in which we live, while the answer he got may seem very strange to someone
who is familiar with biological and cultural evolution.
I
have respect for the traditional belief on this question. I am familiar with Sri
Aurobindo's profoundly meaningful analysis of the symbolism behind Vedic hymns,
and I was fascinated by his thesis that the Vedic seers expressed in a
twilight language experiences which it was impossible to convey directly. I
liked his interpretation of Vedic sacrifice as an elaborate effort to transform
humans into the divine.
With
all that, I do not and I cannot accept the notion that the Vedas have been there
all through cosmic history, much less that Sanskrit sounds have existed in the
void of space for billions of years until they were recorded in the brains of
Hindu sages a few millennia ago. I believe that the Vedas were uttered or
written down in historical times, perhaps some 3500 or more years ago, but
certainly not millions or billions of years ago.
There
have always been Hindus who have held such views about the Vedas, especially if
they have gone through the texts as poetry rather than simply as mantras to be
recited by rote. As I see it, the poetic stature and spiritual value of Vedic
hymns are not affected in any way if they happen to be just a couple of thousand
rather than 13 billion years old. I am inclined to think that being a Hindu in
these times has little to do with the acceptance or non-acceptance of the
divinity or the eternity of the Vedas.
By
mythologizing sublime poetry by our foremost thinkers, which convey deep-felt
mystical experiences, we are not elevating them to higher levels.
4.
On Temples
I
have always considered places of worship to be among the most uplifting
edifices. Whether it is cathedral or kovil, mosque, pagoda, or
synagogue, there is something awesome about structures which were inspired by
pure faith and erected from love of God. Places dedicated to the Divine are
joyous expressions of the human heart to give thanks and to reach out to the
Unfathomable Mystery that has given rise to conscious life.
As
a Hindu I have been to many temples in India and beyond. In my boyhood days I
used to visit them with the piety instilled in me by my parents and cultural
milieu. I admired the colorful icons (mûrtis),
beautifully adorned and often garlanded. Whether it was serene Rama-Sita or
joyous Radha-Krishna, austere Shiva, ferocious-looking Kali, charming Ganesha,
or mysterious Venkateshvara, I have stood in their presence with customary
reverence, sometimes recited a mantra or two. I have circumambulated deities in
holy precincts, washed myself in temple ponds, dipped into sacred rivers in
temple towns. I have sipped sanctified water from my cupped palm, and relished prasâdam,
free or for a fee. I have stood in line for darshan
and tipped minor temple employees to get unmerited priority in the queue, and
flung flowers at the altar with fellow worshipers. I have prayed shamelessly to
Sarasvati for good grades in school. All this I did because I was convinced that
Divinity was present in those adorable and adored mûrtis.
Later
in life I became consciously aware that practically all the temples into which I
gained easy entry were verboten to
some of my fellow Hindus, because they belonged to lower castes. During a visit
to a major temple at Canjeevaram I saw a banner proclaiming that
non-Hindus were not welcome. Slowly I began to feel that temples were not as
sacred as they once were for me. I reflected on Prahalada's statement that God
is in a sliver as also in a pillar, meaning that Divinity is not confined to
church or mosque, to temple or gurudvara. I came to look upon these as centers
with sectarian significance, and historical reminders of how communities paid
homage to their different versions of the Divine. But the Divine is equally
present in lakes and mountains, in caves and dungeons, in filthy puddles and in
fancy palaces, in minute atoms and in grand galaxies too.
I
still go to temples, for sure, and participate in bhajans,
in arati, and in relay readings of
Tulsi Das. I do all this, not because I believe God dwells especially in
temples, but because temples are part of my heritage, the icons are associated
with my youthful years and with the worldviews of my ancestors. I recognize that
temples have deep spiritual significance for vast numbers of my co-religionists.
And I am happy for them.
For
me, however, communion with the Cosmic Mystery has no longer anything to do with
priest or puja, or periodic rituals of the tradition. I am not against these,
and I continue to be culturally enriched when I watch them: they are
aesthetically satisfying and have a magic implicit in them by virtue of the
weight of centuries. Yet, from my current perspectives, their value lies
primarily in the happy memories of years and eras gone by. If I am now moved by
places of worship, whether Hindu or other, it is for their impressive
architecture beautified by marble, stained glass, carved pillars, old
sculptures and such. I also reflect on the associated myths that have inspired
great art, music, poetry, dance and drama. I also regard places of worship
as convenient community centers for celebrating festivals, singing sacred songs, and
listening to discourses. But they are as essential for my own religious
experience as they once were. I feel fortunate there was a time when temples
added meaningful experience to my life, but I also feel a sense of liberation
that I am not affiliated to them any more in those ancient ways.
5.
On rational, irrational, and transrational
An
ancient maxim, sometimes attributed to Aristotle, is that Man is a rational
animal. We should take this to mean that human beings are capable of rational
thinking, rather than that they are always rational. But what is rational
thinking? Generally, we describe that as rational which conforms to basic
logical reasoning, and is also consistent with well established facts of common
experience and observation. Through evolution, human brains, though each is
unique in its own way, share certain commonalties in their functioning. One of
these is the universal logic to which normal brains conform.
Perhaps
nowhere else are the principles of strict rational thought as meticulously and
successfully applied as in mathematics and theoretical science. On the other
hand, when it comes to issues involving history, politics, religion, and the
like, logic is seldom unadulterated. Subtle factors, springing from emotions,
ideals, frustrations, and cultural
conditioning come into action. They play important roles in our being human.
Though they often color our reasoning, without them we would be merely thinking
machines, spewing out impeccably correct results that follow from inputs to the
brain, but devoid of the feelings that make life rich and meaningful.
Decades
ago, during the horrific Hindu-Muslim riots in Calcutta, a Hindu mob circled a
Muslim vegetable vendor at the Lake Market, and beat him up to death. This was
irrational behavior. My father intervened and tried to prevent the lynching,
risking his own safety and in vain. In that context, my father's behavior was
not rational either.
Reflecting
on this episode years later, it occurred to me that there are, in fact, two ways
in which one might deviate from rationality. The first is through the irrational
mode. Here, one adopts positions or engages in actions which are grotesque,
absurd, silly, and even dangerous. Abusing through words or deeds, regarding
groups of people as inferior, refusing to accept evidence against one's
cherished beliefs (such as the earth's rotundity, or biological evolution), are
all examples of irrationality. None of us, scientists, mathematicians, scholars,
intellectuals, whoever, is altogether immune from spurts of irrationality.
Sometimes institutions, political ideologies, economic schemes, religious
systems, or even governments, become irrational. Any individual or system that
preaches needless hate and hurt qualifies as an irrational entity.
The
second way in which one may digress from rationality is through beliefs and
actions that are non-hurtful, fulfilling, uplifting, enriching, or helpful to
others. I call this transrationality. Thus, while elements in the religious
framework may be non-rational, religious behavior need not always be irrational.
It can be transrational. Praying for the well-being of others, and going through
the rites and rituals of a tradition, are instances of transrational acts. Doing
an act of sacrifice, giving up one's own needs for the service of the sick and
the needy, are transrational gestures. Religious doctrines which call for the
death and destruction of those who don't subscribe to particular tenets or
prophets, which deny salvation to non-believers, or deny spiritual rights to
some members of one's own group, are all examples of irrationality in religious
systems. On the other hand, singing hymns to the Divine and reading from
time-honored texts are instances of transrational elements in religions.
Transrational belief and behavior are meaningful and fulfilling.
Art, poetry, and the tales in mythology are transrational. They add to our aesthetic experience. But it is important reckon the distinction between the real which is related to rationality and the ideal or the imagined which may be transrational. Rationality must be respected for intelligent living, and transrationality cherished for meaningful life.
6.
On sectarian affiliation
Of
ten major religions of the world, eight - Zoroastrianism, Confucianism,
Buddhism, Jainism, Christianity, Islam, Sikhism, and Bahai - are known to have
historical founders. Hinduism doesn’t have an identifiable initiator, and with
Judaism, the names of Abraham, Jacob, and Moses figure as prominent first Jews.
In
every religious tradition, splinter groups have arisen because religions are
based on doctrines. New thinkers emerge who claim that their own interpretations
of the original doctrines are more faithful to the religion, and argue that
the religion practiced by the majority is an unacceptable transformation or
corruption. Break-off groups from a religion are called sects. There are
hundreds of religious sects connected with the various religions. Scholars of
religion make distinctions between sects and denominations; the latter term
usually refers to groups with a very large following.
In
the Hindu world we many sects. But not all of them were formed as splinter
groups. The Shaiva, Vaishnava, Shakta, and Smarta sects which are the major
subdivisions of Hinduism, date back to very ancient times. They too don't
have traceable historical founders. Dvaitins
and Advaitins base their separateness on different visions about the nature of
Ultimate Reality. These sects were started by eminent philosopher-sages who (as
also their scholar-followers) have argued their positions ably through debates
and books. Sages like Kabir, Sai Baba, and Swaminarayan have also initiated
their own sects. Some Hindu sects, like the ones initiated by Gautama Buddha and
Guru Nanak, have evolved into separate religions.
The
advantages of being affiliated to a particular religious sect are not unlike
those of belonging to a happy family. We feel a special kinship with our
brothers and sisters, with our cousins and aunts and uncles. This is a circle
with whose members we share common experiences, and
in which we feel morally and sentimentally comfortable.
Indeed,
in the Hindu tradition, traditional affiliation generally results from one's
birth in a family, which has for generations belonged to that sect. Thus, it
does not result from a conscious acceptance of the doctrines professed by the
founder of the sect. In fact, very
few Hindus belonging to any of the major sects can spell out the tenets on which
their sect is based, nor explain how these differ from those of other Hindu
sects. This situation changed in the 19th century with the formation of new
sects which emerged as a result of our encounter with Christianity. That is how
the Brahmos, the Arya Samajis, the Prarthana Samajis, and the Ramakrishna
movements arose. In these and similar instances, one gains membership through
conscious decision. In any event,
sectarian bonds, when healthily nurtured, can give people a sense of belonging
and fulfillment.
Though
conscious sectarian affiliation can inform or reinforce doctrinal beliefs, and
though such reinforcements could bring spiritual benefits to its
practitioners, my birth in a Tamil Shaivite smartha family has not added much of
significance to my own religious life. I have learned some mantras and modes of
puja specific to this group, and have gathered some understanding of its
metaphysics, but all this has not helped me be a better human being, or even a
better religious person in any way I can recognize.
There have been many squabbles between members of various sects even within the Hindu tradition, and more hurtful internecine hatred and persecution within other religious traditions. My own respect for sectarian subdivisions is therefore not of a high order. As to my religious affiliation, I regard myself as a human being first, then a Hindu, and that’s all.
7.
On theism and atheism
We
don't know who first thought or became aware of God, nor even when or where
the recognition or the imagining of God first arose. All we know is that
in practically all cultures there has been some notion or other of a superior
being that is above and beyond the world of perceived reality. Such a being has
been variously called and described in many regions and religions of the human
family.
God,
in most religious frameworks, refers to a supernatural personage who is
ultimately responsible for the creation of the universe, its sustenance, and its
possible ultimate dissolution. This seems to be a reasonable, but by no means a
universally demonstrable, proposition. Those who are convinced of the existence
of such a God are called theists (Greek theos:
God). Those who explicitly reject this notion are the atheists.
It
is important to distinguish between metaphysical theism (MT) and religious
theism (RT). Not making this distinction can lead to needless controversies. MT
posits God as a plausible explanation for the emergence and existence of the
universe, and stops at that. RT goes beyond the proposition of a Creator. It
envisages God as someone with extraordinary capabilities and several attributes,
most of which are infinitely enlarged versions of the best of human qualities.
Thus, the God of religions is all-powerful, all-knowing, and present everywhere.
This God is imagined to be kind, loving, merciful, noble, good and everything
positive that one can imagine. Such a God is pictured in some traditions in a
human form, with head, body, and limbs, even with a gender. The God of
historical religions is primarily male, though Hinduism also associates a female
principle (Shakti) to its three primary male-divinities.
Atheists
say that there is really no God except in the human mind. Though I won’t call
myself an atheist, I can think of at least three good reasons why the God of
religions could seem highly improbable to some. First, God cannot have humanoid
aspects because the human form is just a couple of million years old in the 13 +
billion years of cosmic existence. Such a God would not have spoken to just a
handful of people in a few languages, as alleged by the great religions. Thirdly
- and this is a powerful argument – a merciful God will not tolerate the kind
of unwarranted pain and suffering that we see all too often in nature and in
human experience. How can a compassionate God, atheists ask in anger, allow
innocent children, helpless invalids, and praying persons to die in earthquakes
and tsunamis, in hurricanes, tornados and the like?
But
then, how did the idea of God emerge in the human mind? Anthropologists,
sociologists, psychologists, cultural evolutionists and other scientists have
offered a variety of interesting answers to this question, just as in distant
times, theologians offered a series of proofs for the existence of God.
Scientific theories of theogenesis often account for the notion of a generic
God, rather than for the Gods of particular religions, such as Marduk, Minerva,
Zeus, Vishnu, Allah and the hundred other gods and god-like beings that have
become part of the religious culture and psyche of humanity.
And
yet, while one may challenge the logic that upholds anthropomorphic gods, one
should also recognize that belief in a religious God is deep in the emotional
and mystical experience of billions of people. Not all theists are fools as
atheists sometimes say, and not all atheists are evil as theists often believe.
My
own view is that one cannot rule out an undergirding consciousness in the
experienced world (the Hindu Brahman) on purely logical grounds. The principle
of metaphysical theism cannot be as easily demolished as notions of historical
divinities.
8.
On the virtues and vices of theism
I
am personally not convinced that religious theism, as I defined it in the last
essay, can be defended on purely logical grounds. But I recognize it as a valid
and meaningful belief for vast
numbers of people belonging to the various religious systems of the human
family. Now I would like to reflect a little on some of its merits and demerits.
It
is a fact of experience that belief in a personal God, irrespective of whether
such a God exists or does not, contributes considerably to the psychological
well-being of many normal people. We experience a sense of security from the
conviction that there is a superior being that cares for our safety, security,
and happiness.
For
the theist, the idea of an overseeing God could carry greater weight than
conscience which is the internal witness of all our thoughts, unuttered words,
and deeds, unobserved by, and often unknown to, anyone else. The awareness of or
belief in an inescapable supernatural
moral police has restrained countless souls from licentious thoughts, obnoxious
words, and illicit actions, because of the certainty of being caught one way or
another for engaging in unethical modes.
Then
again, at a deeper level, the conviction that sooner or later we will be in the
presence of, or merge with, a cosmic benevolent God gives courage and hope in
the context of one's ultimate phase as a conscious being here on earth.
Moreover,
if one feels a need to express one's gratitude for all the happiness and
richness that one feels as a human being here on earth, there is in the vision
of a personal God a meaningful target for that thankfulness which, otherwise,
would have to be addressed either to a vacuous non-entity or be stored within
oneself with place to go.
Belief
in a personal God has inspired creative artists to draw and to paint, to sculpt
and to compose in the form and name of the God of their religious persuasion. It
is doubtful that without belief in a personal God, in no matter what form and
name, human culture would have so grandly produced so much magnificent art and
music and worship-centers in various parts of the world.
Thus,
in my view, the theistic framework has been of enormous value to human beings in
practically all cultures.
One
might then wonder why thoughtful people would object to theism, given that it
has so many positive aspects. Leaving aside the absence of solid evidence or
rationalistic support for theism, innumerable acts of hurt and hate have been
committed in the name of personal Gods. Extending human attributes to a personal
God has resulted in angry and
destructive Gods: Gods which blurt out in rage and curse humans to death and
damnation for straying away from their prescribed course. The Greek Gods were as
human in their meanness, vengefulness, and jealousies as were ordinary mortals.
This is also true in the case of the puranic Gods in Hindu lore where Gods
compete with each other for securing the first place for worship. It is doubtful
that any God would stoop to such levels, but people believing in personal gods
have.
In my view, the idea that one’s own version of God is the only correct one is a legitimate position within a given religious system. But to claim that it is the only God there ought to be is a dangerous next step. While one may spread the good word, when a person or a group adopts a position as to which God has a right to exist, it becomes difficult to restrain oneself from denigrating the gods of other people, and even destroy with ugly violence their symbols of the Divine. Though it may not always find explicit expression, there is potential for hurtful fanatical behavior in religious theism.
9.
On the virtues and vices of atheism
Atheism
is the emphatic affirmation of the non-existence of God. It has a long history.
From Anaxagoras in ancient Greece to M. N. Roy in modern India there have been
many atheist thinkers over the centuries. Various shades of atheism have been
there in China, Greece, India, and the West.
Often
atheists have had to pay a price. They have been burnt at stake in medieval
Europe for their sin. In the Soviet Union and Communist China, it has been just
the opposite: Belief in God was/is the crime. In classical India, atheists were
not looked upon with much respect. To a degree this is true in modern India and
in the U.S.A. also. However, atheists can remain Hindu. No aracharya or Baba or
Hindu organization can boot an atheist Hindu out. In this matter, the Hindu
world is as enlightened as the modern secular West where atheists can live in
freedom and speak out boldly.
When
we are born, we are neither theists nor as atheists, but as ignoro-theists,
i.e. individuals who have never even heard of God. Belief in God arises because
from one’s upbringing. One reason why many people are theists is that they
have grown up in families affiliated to a theistic religion. Atheism is the
erasing of a belief that was inculcated (like love of parents or respect for
elders) in an individual at a pre-reasoning stage. All our ancestors some 50,000
and more years ago were ignoro-theists. Nothing to be proud of or be ashamed
about. There are probably pristine ignoro-theist cultures still in the world.
In
history, there have been two kinds of influential atheists: To the first belong
philosophical atheists. Some of
them have been enlightened humanists. Charvaka and Brihaspati in ancient India,
Lucretius of Rome, Karl Marx, Bertrand Russell, and Richard Dawkins in the
modern world come to mind. On the other hand, Stalin, Mao Zedon and Phol Pot are
among the notorious monsters who were rabid atheists.
Enlightened
atheists are intellectually honest and meticulously rational. They can be as
caring and compassionate as truly religious persons. But now and again they can
become as rabid in their non-belief as some religious fanatics. Atheist
extremists are not only unbending in their denial of God, sometimes they have
the same kind of passion for converting believers into their fold. This in
itself may not be bad, but in this context some of them display unwarranted
arrogance and speak with contempt about theists. Atheists equate belief in God
with affiliation to religions. They regard religion as a competitor to science
in explaining origins and ends. As a result, they think that all religious
people are misguided or ill-informed. This, to me, is like saying that musicians
are misguided because they don’t understand that musical notes can be
Fourier-analyzed.
Another
serious drawback with atheism is that unwittingly or otherwise, it deprives
people of a metaphysical source for hope in despondency, consolation in
bereavement, and joy in celebrations. This is one reason why it fails to draw
many adherents. Philosophical atheism is intellectually sophisticated, just as
philosophical theism is, but it has little practical value. Atheism is allied to
modern science, just as theism is allied to cultural comfort.
Atheists don’t always realize that one can be decent and caring even if
one is a theist. Belief in God also gives inner peace to countless people who
feel that this is more significant, relevant, and important for sane living than
being right or bright.
Most
traditional religious theists are proprius-theists (believing in their
own God) and allus-atheists
(rejecting the gods of other religions). Most philosophical atheists are
insensitive to the deeper emotional and cultural needs of people and groups.
10.
The agnostic approach
Once
I witnessed a heated debate between an ardent Christian and a devout Hindu as to
how we will be rewarded or punished in the long run by the Almighty. The
Christian spoke about the day of reckoning and eventual entry into heaven or
elsewhere, while the Hindu argued for successive reincarnations for paybacks
until one finally merged with the Source. I was more impressed by the certainty
with which the participants argued their tenets than with the arguments that
each presented. I must confess that I was persuaded by neither. Though both made
passionate cases for their respective position, the strengths of their arguments
lay mainly, it seemed to me, in how ably they revealed the weaknesses in the
opponent's position. In this, they both did this very well.
Then
again, both were merely repeating what they had been taught, and there wasn't
much indication that either of them would convince the other by reasoning and
logic. It occurred me that views on these matters are formed from an early age
in keeping with the religious framework which has been drilled into a person, or
perhaps from books one reads later in life, but not on the basis of empirical
evidence.
I
must admit that I have seldom had great confidence in narratives about the very
distant past and prognostications about the very distant future, even in the
scientific framework, let alone as presented in religious doctrines. This is not
to suggest that they are wrong, but merely to recognize the limitations of my
own mind when it comes to comprehending the Infinite and its possibilities. As a
result, when it comes to fundamental questions, I am more inclined to be what T.
H. Huxley called an agnostic. I am
glad that I live at a time and in a country where one can be an agnostic or an
atheist; there are and have been places where you better accept as true whatever
the authorities - religious or lay - dictate, or else... Indeed, aside from
economic factors and historical rancor, whether or not such freedom of thought
in religious matters is to be maintained and spread or restricted and disallowed
is a cause for some of the tensions in the world.
For
ages, keen minds have been enunciating divergent views on God and the hereafter.
Their loyal followers have sometimes engaged in verbal and physical combat.
Corporal punishment for wrongdoing is bad enough. But to pester and persecute,
or look down upon fellow humans because of their differing notions of what
constitutes God and afterlife, seem to me expressions of extraordinary
perversion of the true religious spirit.
Someone
once said that agnosticism could lead to paralysis of action, because if one is
not sure of heaven or hell, or of a happy rebirth, or of a punishing or
rewarding God, one cannot choose between moral options. I don't see why
uncertainty about long-range aftermath should necessarily lead to naughty
behavior, or why honesty, decency, truthfulness and other such social virtues
should be linked to receiving a bonus sooner or later, in this birth or in the
next or on doomsday or whenever.
As
I see it, I doubt that ultimate questions like the existence or nature of God,
the relevance of man in the cosmic scheme; long-range meanings of love and
laughter; and possibilities of post-mortem persistence can ever be answered to
the satisfaction of all.
While
I plead ignorance, I respect the convictions of atheists and theists. I am not
telling anyone, "You are wrong," but only that "I don’t know
for sure." I am impressed, but seldom offended, by the certainty with which
people proclaim their truths about ultimate questions.
I believe that it is enriching to ponder these, and accept some
non-hurtful conclusions that are fulfilling to oneself, even if it is only “I
don’t know.” Acceptance of some mysteries is for me as fulfilling as its
resolution is for others.
11.
Analytical and traditional approach to sacred history
Questions
relating to the historicity of the personages and episodes mentioned in
religious literature have been vexing scholars for at least two centuries. It
is difficult for some to take as a historical fact that Moses met with God and
received the Ten Commandments personally from Him. Many papers and volumes
have been written on the historical Jesus. Such inquiries cast some doubt
on the miracles and magical feats associated with the religious personages
mentioned in sacred texts, causing unhappiness and anger in some.
Dispassionate
scholars, even with great reverence for the Ramayana and the Mahabharata, have
explored the genesis of these marvelous works which strike them as impressive
poetic creations of the human spirit. But the upholders of orthodoxy find such
stances impertinent, perhaps even disrespectful. Some of them fear, not
without reason, that the knowledge unraveled by scholarship might shake the
stability of ancient icons and practices. There is therefore a derision on the
part of traditionalists for no-nonsense cold-blooded scholars whose concern is
for solid facts more than for soothing feelings.
As
I see it, this is a cultural manifestation of the perennial conflict between
the head and the heart. All through human history, in practically every
society touched by civilization, the behavior and beliefs of traditionalists
have been challenged by inquiring minds. This has resulted in new insights and
understanding about the past for an elite minority. But they tend to cause
pain and shock, even discomfort, to a great many people. The conquests of the
mind in religious matters can upset the joyful heart. An impeccable proof to
the effect that no almighty God lovingly holds His protective hand over our
heads when we go to sleep could result in restless and worrisome insomnia in
some.
Whether
one should accept the evidence of carefully gathered data and the logic of
arguments, or respond to the call of a deeper faith that endows us with peace
and spiritual ecstasy is the dilemma that we sometimes face. Some make a
decision, and claim their preference to be the right one. There is perhaps no
right or wrong choice in this matter, if only because one is as human as the
other, and both have contextual significance..
This
dichotomy an illustration of what is called the principle
of complementarity: reality is recognized as consisting of
apparently contradictory, but in fact mutually complementing, features. Niels
Bohr used to say that there are two kinds of truths, small and great ones. A
small truth is one whose contrary is false. That milk is white is a small
truth, because to say that milk is black is clearly wrong. But a great truth
is one whose contrary is no less true. To say there religions have done much
good is as true a statement as that religions have done much harm. That
the electron is a particle as that it is a wave.
As
long as we are experiencing one side of a coin, we cannot perceive the other.
But it would be simplistic, if not a grave error, to imagine that the coin has
only one side. For the analytical scholar to maintain that the spiritual
dimension of the Ramayana is without significance would be as partial a vision
as the claim of the religious devotee who doesn’t realize that bhajans
and mûrties have evolved over the ages in human culture, and are
meaningful modes towards a greater goal, rather than reflections of objective
truths.
The
charm of Aesop’s Fables lies, not in the conversations of animals but
in the morals they spell out. I drink deep of the spiritual fountain of
our epics because I was brought up in the tradition. Yet, I look into those
works as creations of inspired poets. However, I am well aware that scholarly
perspectives are not the only or even the best mode of approaching sacred
works. All I can say is that I have been
enriched by them.
12.
On the Relevance of Remembering our Heritage
Many
in the modern world, recognizing the superstitious elements in religious
frameworks, question the need for religious traditions. They wonder how
people, informed by the knowledge and worldviews of science, still cling on to
ancient pictures, taking legends and hagiography seriously, and regarding
works like the Vedas and the Bible as holy books. They wonder why otherwise
intelligent people recite the psalms and sacred chants. To vast numbers of
people there are perfectly legitimate questions.
It
seems to me that individuals can lead sane lives in a world of science,
technology, and modern medicine, without religious rites or rituals, or
knowledge of one's history or culture. Indeed, ancestral wisdom is seldom
helpful in solving our current problems. I see nothing morally objectionable
in this.
However,
while this is possible for individuals, the matter is different for a
cultures. In so far as we are cultural beings, that is to say, bound together
in community through meaningful practices and interactions, we can’t afford
to erase the past from our collective psyche. There arise occasions in the
life of a people, as of individuals, when we need to rejoice in the triumph of
a community, mourn a loss to a nation, celebrate a memorable event, or
confront a collective crisis. In moments like these, culture and history and
bonds of a shared past become very valuable, if not necessarily absolutely
essential.
Then
again, in the case Hindus (as with some other groups), our ancestors had
suffered subjugation by aliens;
they have been exploited and oppressed; and our culture has suffered
marginalization, ridicule, and distortion by ill-wishers. In such contexts, it
is a relief and a necessity to affirm one's robust past and culture, for no
people can afford to be regarded as having been always a loser in the
conflicts and foul-plays of history. There is no need for Hindus to create an
imaginary heritage rich and worthy of respect: By any objective measure, Indic
culture has been colorful and creative in art and music and joyous
festivities, productive and prolific in poetry and philosophy and literature.
It would be unfortunate if one were to forget the weighty legacy of our past.
Every people would do well to remember their heritage, not in vainglory, but
with intelligence and sensitivity.
These
then are some reasons why people must remain culturally connected to their
history. One doesn’t have to preserve untenable beliefs to sing beautiful
hymns. One doesn’t have to show that modern physics is implicit in ancient
utterances to admire in them penetrating insights into the spiritual dimension
of Man and meaningful commentaries on the human condition. One doesn’t have
to defend anachronistic social practices, but one has to eradicate them with
historical understanding and sensitivity.
It
is important, however, not to let our lives and outlook be overburdened by
history and heritage. One must guard against becoming obsessed with past
glories, or flaunting it as the best in the world, no matter how great, or
deluding oneself that it was never without a blemish. The reason for
remembering is not to proclaim to others how grand our culture or religion is
compared to what others may have, but for deriving for ourselves the
aesthetic, spiritual, and cultural fulfillment it can provide to those who
come to know about aspects of it in any serious way.
To
ignore or denigrate one’s cultural roots is like flinging family albums into
the fire. Remembering a culture’s past is also like periodic housecleaning.
We clear the clutter and the
cobwebs accumulated over time, discard irrelevant trinkets, and hold on only
to precious possessions. Erasing heritage and history would be like waking up
one morning, having forgotten the events, friends and kin of one's life: a sad
psychological disaster.
13.
Conception and consciousness
From
the merger of a microscopic sperm and egg in the darkness of the fallopian
tube arises an entity that gradually acquires self-awareness and an identity
all its own. This embodied consciousness reflects and rejoices, creates and
communicates, and engages in countless activities for a brief time-span. Then,
after a final breath, its non-physical attributes vanish from the tangible
world. No thinking mind can remain unimpressed by this remarkable phenomenon.
If anything is a mystery, human consciousness is.
Each
one of us carries within a totality that is more than the sum of our body's
material substrate. Not so long ago, many of the atoms and molecules that make
up our anatomy at this hour were not part of us. Millions of microorganisms
thrive and perish in our saliva and alimentary canal. With all that, there is
a subtle self that has been illumining every one of us, something that etches
the identity of a separate existence within a hugely interconnected whole.
This self has been with us since the first utterance of I
and me, and it will be part of us
until the dusk and dimness of life when, gradually or suddenly, our individual
memories will falter and fade away for good.
We
cannot deny the biochemical basis in the persistence of personhood. Some day,
silicon configurations in plastic casings may acquire feelings and emotions,
mimicking the heaves and exhilarations of the human heart. Computers create
music today; they may be enjoying it tomorrow, and may be reflecting on life
and death the day after. But this is not sufficient proof that there is or is
not anything beyond matter and energy in space and time. This metaphysical Gödel’s
theorem is at the root of much controversy.
From
the perspective of science, nature appears to be essentially a tangible
manifestation of matter and energy. However, the laws of nature, which
organize and sustain it, cannot be located here or there or anywhere. They
pervade the span of spread-out space and ceaseless time. One way of
considering the Hindu perspective is that consciousness is implicit in these
laws, an intangible principle that breathes order in the universe, and life
into inert matter.
The
Copernican revolution displaced our earth from the center of the universe.
Science has been enormously successful in exploring the entire physical span
of the universe from the far-from-visible microcosm to faint and farthermost
specks in the vast expanse. And science may be right in regarding
consciousness as just another among the countless occurrences in the stretch
of time since the first creative bang.
But
we will be missing the point if we don't see the role of consciousness in the
unfolding of cosmic history. Science has displaced our habitat from center
stage, but not dethroned human consciousness from the center of the perceived
world. Like invisible air and earth-binding gravity, we take consciousness for
granted because it is with us all the time. Consciousness deserves more than
passing mention in any serious commentary on the universe, for it is
consciousness that has lit up the universe with beauty and color, and infused
it with meaning and understanding. Until the last decades of the twentieth
century, science did not inquire about the consciousness.
Four
centuries of modern science have thrown much light on the physical basis of
this uncommon wonder, which may have parallels in other pockets in a universe
studded with billions of stars and planetary systems. Some day we may explain
consciousness in terms of neurons, microtubules, or other matter-based
principles. But, as of now, consciousness continues to be a fantastic anomaly
in the mindless morass of mass-energy cluttering the cosmos.
14.
Consciousness in religious frameworks
The
conscious human is the center of all religions. Our distant ancestors
recognized more than we do that there would no universe to observe or
contemplate upon if we were but brutes, which eat, procreate and perish
periodically. So religions have reflected on consciousness in different ways.
On this issue, as on others, even if we don’t subscribe to all that the
ancients said, we may pay homage to the thinkers who pondered these matters
for they led the way to thoughtful appreciation of human existence.
In
(at least one stream of) the Judaic tradition, the calendar is reckoned as
having started in 3761 B.C.E. when consciousness was breathed into Adam and
Eve. This reckoning is attributed to This reckoning is sometimes
attributed to José Ben Halaphta of the second century C.E. who is said to
have arrived at the year by adding up "the ages of various patriarchs,
kings, and historical periods listed in the genealogies and histories of the
Bible." There is also a belief that after some two and a half centuries
from now, humanity will be raised to a state of a new consciousness.
In
the Christian tradition, consciousness is taken as an agency of God and the
Holy Spirit. It is an awareness of the world, an essential element of the
human condition that is crucial to an understanding of the difference between
good and evil. There are no metaphysical classification of consciousness here,
or any probing into its ultimate nature. God has endowed us with
consciousness, which is a unique gift, and it is our responsibility to make
the best of it, i.e. exercise the will that is associated with consciousness
in fruitful and worthy ways.
Buddhist
thinkers recognized consciousness at various levels and contexts. At one
level, we are conscious of
material things and to sensuality. Next there is consciousness directed to
external forms. The third is concerned with the formless sphere. This involves
ideas and values, and is not concerned with matters of material or visual
interest. The fourth kind of consciousness is related to transcendental
matters. In other words, thought and consciousness were identified in some of
these perspectives, perhaps significantly so, for it is the thoughtful being
that is also self-aware, or it is perhaps the conscious being that engages in
thought. Buddhist thinkers also classified subjective consciousness into four
classes, namely: consciousness which is wholesome and consciousness which is
unwholesome in its effects; consciousness which is a consequence of past
actions; and consciousness which is totally ineffective.
We
note from all of this that the more one reflects on these matters, the more
complicated and rich the field becomes. Such categorizations lead to an
understanding of one's own thoughts, attitudes, and behavior. From that
understanding may come a more balanced and fulfilled life.
Islamic
theologians talk about levels of consciousness (fana, baqa, and ma-rarifa)
depending upon the extent to which we become one with the divine. In the last
stage one is supposed to have become part of the consciousness of Divinity.
However, only believers can attain these stages. Here, as in the Hindu world,
consciousness is described in terms of one’s awareness of transcendental
reality.
Thus,
the recognition of the significance, perhaps even the uniqueness, of
consciousness in a cold and careless world is at the basis of all major
religions. And this is quite contrary to what is assumed in the modern
scientific framework in which consciousness is essentially an interesting and
emergent byproduct of complex matter.
15.
Consciousness in the Hindu vision: Tat tvam asi
In
ages past, sage-poets in India probed into the roots of consciousness, and
they formulated some fascinating views on the subject. Their startling
conclusion was that human consciousness is a pale echo of something far more
magnificent. Expressed through the aphorism, tat
tvam asi: Thou art That, it says that every conscious entity is a spark
from an underlying effulgence, and can flash a radiance as its source alone
can.
The
capacity for awareness and experience, for logical analysis and joyful
interaction is an intangible component of Homo sapience. This is the essence
of what one calls the human spirit. Just as there is more to a flower than
soil and tree-branch, so in the Hindu view, the spirit is more than neural
network, heartbeat and vital breath, though these are what create and sustain
it here below.
Hindu
thinkers reasoned that if there is splendor in the perceived world and pattern
in its functioning, and if it can all result in the grand experiences of life
and thought, then even prior to the advent of humans, there must have been an
experiencing principle of a vastly superior order. This Cosmic Experiencer (Brahman)
spans the range in space and time. Just
as the expanse of water in the seas is scattered on land in ponds and lakes
and cups and bottles, all-pervading Brahman finds expression in
countless life forms. We are miniature lights from that universal brilliance.
We have emanated from that primordial splendor, like photons from a glorious
galactic core, destined for terrestrial experience for a brief span on the
eternal time line, only to re-merge with that from which we sprang.
Is
this is really so, is it a scientific hypothesis, or just poetic imagery? But
if it is only poetry, let us remember that poetry and prayer are for the human
spirit what the telescope and the microscope are for human eyes. Lenses enable
us to discern entities beyond our normal sight, and profound poetry is a
response of the human mind or spirit to that which is not fathomed through
logic and reason. Poetry brings home to us, indeed it forces us to reckon, the
world of experience, not in terms of sense data and charts and proofs, but in
subtle and holistic ways. It reveals the meaning and majesty in the universe
that lie in a realm beyond the plane of rigid rationality. Poetry is mystic
experience verbalized.
Thus,
Hindu spiritual vision paints individual consciousness on a cosmic canvass. It
recognizes the transience of us all as separate entities, yet incorporates us
into the infinity that encompasses us. It does not rule out the possibility of
other manifestations of Brahman, sublime and subtle, carbon or
silicon-based, elsewhere amidst the stellar billions. It recognizes the role
of matter, and the limits of the mind, but sees subtle awareness at the core
of it all. It does not speak of rewards and punishments in anthropocentric
terms, nor of a He-God communicating in local languages. Yet, it regards the
religious expressions of humanity as echoes of a Universal Spirit, even as
volcanic outbursts reveal submerged forces of far greater magnitude.
Going beyond the tenets of mechanistic-materialist science, one may find
something elevating in regarding every conscious being as a spark from a
Cosmic Whole. I have presented a vision from the Hindu world, not as a Truth
that I call upon others to accept, but as an uplifting thought to
regard ourselves as part of that from which the universe sprang. In this grand
scheme, every fellow human becomes yet another spark from the same sublime
source. When such a worldview is internalized, it can inspire an outpouring of
caring and compassion, of love and respect! From this perspective, as our
materials bodies are stardust, our spiritual dimension is cosmic dust.
16.
Thoughts of Death: For the theist and the atheist
Nothing
that is born lives on for ever. Life, as someone quipped, is a terminal
disease: sooner or later we all must cease in our current bodies and minds.
Death is a curious puzzle in one’s youthful days, and the recognition of an
impending event in one’s graying phase. Different people react to the
thought of death in different ways.
For
the theist, irrespective one’s religion, there is the hope of a more
glorious life in the hereafter. Even with threat of punishment by a severe God
for sins slight and serious, there is a feeling that with repentance and after
payment of dues, one will enter a state of eternal peace in the region of an
all-merciful Almighty. Even when there is the requirement of revisiting earth
to reap the consequences of conscious actions, the cycle will end sooner or
later, and ultimate liberation with merger with the Universal Spirit is a
cheerful and uplifting possibility.
When
a near and dear one breathes no more, there is the conviction in the heart of
the believer that he or she is safe and secure in a world beyond, away
from the rough and tumble of this arduous life with its fears and fury,
residing with the certainty of our own eventual arrival there. What can be
more promising than the thought that after all is said and done, there will be
a joyous eternity in the realm and reflection of the Creator!
Thus
the person who lives in faith and conforms to the norms of ethics has little
to fear about death, for it escorts one to a place non-existent for
doubters. Contrary to what some atheists say, death is not, or shouldn’t be,
ugly or intimidating to religious people.
However,
it is important for the theist to know that atheists aren’t disturbed by the
thought that in due course they will be turned to dust or ash, pulverized
beyond recognition, lingering perhaps in the fading memory of some who too
will some day with the atoms of mindless lumps in mud and slime. The
awakened atheist rejoices in life while it lasts in love and laughter, and
feels that all of life’s splendor is intense and exhausted in lived moments,
focused only here below in this insignificant niche in the cosmic stretch.
Life is like reading a fascinating novel without wanting the narrative
never to have an end, or sipping a fine glass of Bordeaux without
craving for the glass to be an endless fount. Be born, be well for a
while, then be gone for good, is the commandment of blind biology.
To
the atheist, death is simply the inevitable cessation of the vital functions
of a living entity. Sure, it is a threatening idea to some, it is intense pain
for the loving ones who are left behind, and a mystery to some thoughtful
people. Even atheists sometimes toy with a what-if-question in this context,
for it is not easy for everyone to imagine that the thoughts, feelings, ideas
and experiences accumulated and encapsulated in a brain and body for years
vanish into void with an interruption
of oxygen-intake. It is as if when the covers of a book are closed, all its
contents are erased in a jiffy.
Since
very ancient times, people have wondered and argued about death and the
beyond. Even with all the progress in science, wonderment about death persists
at the philosophical level, and firm convictions about it persist at doctrinal
levels. These are likely to continue for as along as we shed tears, eulogize,
write epitaphs, and wish or pray for the peace of the departed.
One
may react to the thought of death meaningfully whether one is a believer or
not. However, what matters now is not if we will live disembodied for
evermore, or if we will become no more than unrecognizable bits scattered
on earth’s mantle, but how we spread
joy, alleviate suffering, and serve others while we are alive and kicking.. In
this context, atheists and theists of goodwill can join hands and work
together as fleeting earthlings for
the good of all.
17.
Places of worship
The
Gods of Greece resided on Mount Olympus, which Homer described thus:
"Olympus, abode of the gods, that stand fast for ever. Neither is it
shaken by winds nor wet with rain, nor does snow fall upon it, and the air is
outspread clear and cloudless, and over it hovers a radiant whiteness."
This reminds us of the Himalayan peak where Shiva and Parvati of Hindu lore
reside. The gods could well be up above in the vast expanse of
extra-terrestrial space, beyond the starry firmament. The ancient vision was
that the Gods resided way too far for ordinary humans to climb and reach.
Because
they are so distant every religion constructed halls and altars where the
Divine might come to reside, where men and women can gather to pay homage to
the Almighty. Temples were built for Minerva and Jupiter on the hills of Rome.
The grand edifices built for them have crumbled down for archeological probes
or they have been renovated to attract tourists. All man-made gods have a
history.
In
ancient India there were devâlayas
(Houses of Gods) for the Sun-God Sûrya and the Sky-God Indra, but now we have
mandirs and kôvils
consecrated to Rama and Krishna, Shiva, Kali and Murugan.
In
the Judaic tradition, the place of worship was also a place where people went
together (synagogé). It was in the
synagogue that religious teachings were proclaimed to the faithful: i.e. the
synagogue also served as a kind of public school for religious studies. The
Jewish scholar Arthur Herzberg explains that "The central function of the
synagogue was to cultivate a value perhaps more important that prayer to
Jewish faith, the study of the Torah.” On Sabbath, people gathered in the
synagogue to hear a reading of a passage from the Torah and to gain
understanding of its interpretation. To this day, this is enshrined in the
central act of public worship in Judaism on every major occasion.
In
the Christian world assemblies for common worship services became churches.
When Paul and Peter initiated such groups, perhaps they did not realize that
some day churches would spread to every corner of the world, just as, when the
first temples were erected in India no one foresaw a day when there would be
temples in Malaysia and Madagascar, in London and Pittsburgh.
Periodic
calls to prayer through a hearty proclamation that God is great is an
important feature in the worship centers of the Islamic world. Here the
traditional mode is to prostrate as a gesture of surrender to the Almighty:
which is why the place is called a masjid, which literally means a place for
prostration. Known as mosque in English, it has a wall without doors with a
niche called mihrab
which points to the direction (qilba)
of Maccah where the Prophet had established the very
first mosque of the tradition. Then there are the stûpas and
the multi-layered pagodas
of Buddhism. To these may also be attached residence halls for the monks of
the tradition. The architectural elements of the building are also regarded as
worthy of reverence. Though Buddha himself was indifferent to questions about
God's existence, he has been symbolically deified in the tradition. Therefore
his images are revered and worshiped in Buddhist temples. The gurudwara
(Doorway to the Master) is the Sikh place of worship where the faith’s
scripture (Guru Granth Sahib) is all that is worshiped in reverence, and the
One God is invoked as waheguru.
Places of worship are the sanctified centers where one expresses gratitude to that which caused the world to be. here, the human spirit invokes with humility the Unfathomable Mystery that has actualized this world. This is a lofty goal of religions.
18.
Purpose and Goal
Life
is a series of experiences and activities. The experiences come to us, and we
initiate the activities. Activities are of two kinds: Those to whose
consequences we are indifferent, and those we perform with definite
consequences in mind. The former may be called purposeless actions, and the
latter, purposeful or goal-directed.
In
this context, questions like the following sometimes arise: What is the goal
or life? Is there a purpose to the universe? Answers have ranged from: The
goal of life is to enjoy it to the full, to achieving self-realization; and
from: The purpose of the world is nothing at all to the purpose is for God to
manifest Himself fully.
Here,
it is useful to make a distinction between goal and purpose. A goal is a
point or state towards which the activities of an individual or a system
seem to tend. Purpose, on the other hand, is the intrinsic reason why a system
functions to reach a goal. A careful external observer may be able
to infer the goal of a system from its behavior. But an outsider
cannot fathom the purpose for sure. As Shakespeare's Cicero said:
...
Men may construe things after their fashion,
Clean
from the purpose of the things themselves.
Biological
entities are often governed by goal-directed behavior. But they may not be
always aware of why they seek the goal. The goal of a heliotrope is to receive
as much sunlight as it can. The reason why it does so is not within the plant,
but in the realm of biological evolution. Even purely physical systems often
have a goal. For instance, the goal of many mechanical systems is to attain a
state of minimum potential energy, which is why unsupported objects fall to
the ground where the potential energy is least. Systems with many constituents
strive to reach a state of maximum entropy. When light travels from point to
point, its goal is to follow the path of least action (Fermat’s principle).
Why these happen is not clear. We simply say that they are the laws of nature.
From
this perspective, two insights emerge. First, purpose implies conscious
behavior, whereas goal directed behavior need not be so. Secondly, only the
entity which acts can know what the purpose, if any, is. This is evident in
practically all human contexts. We may know that a person striving to achieve
something has a definite goal. But
only he or she can know why the striving is there. The goal of a student is to
pass the course creditably. Her purpose may be anything from a desire to get a
degree to satisfying parental pressure. When a philanthropist gives
generously, the goal of the action is to support an undertaking. But he or she
alone knows the real purpose behind the munificence. It could be commitment to
the cause, it could be to gain fame, it could be to redeem a feeling of guilt,
or whatever.
Scientists
tend to think that there is really no purpose to the universe. The reason for
this is not philosophical, but observation-based. In the systematic study of
natural phenomena, it is difficult to detect any purpose in the world, not
only in the countless organisms on our planet, but in the continued existence
during eons of routinely shining and dying stars, let alone in aimlessly
wandering comets and galaxies. This apparent absence of any purpose in a vast
and wondrous universe impresses some naturalists as a pointless universe. This
may well be so, but only the universe can know what the purpose of the
universe may be, if there is one. Then again, to imagine the universe to have
a purpose, one must grant consciousness to it, which current science is
unwilling or unable to do. Thus, in principle, the question of purpose in the
universe can never be resolved.
19.
The religious roots of ethics
Human
life is directed not only by worldviews, but also by values. Science provides
worldviews based on observation and analysis. It functions on the basis of a
value system, which includes disinterested quest, commitment to truth, honesty
in reporting of results, and the like. But science does not prescribe
rules in interpersonal interactions which are an important part of societal
ethics.
Traditionally,
the principles of ethics were formulated by
religions and inculcated by
elders in a community. Thus, in the Judaic tradition, the Ten Commandments
were given to Moses on Mount Sinai. Though one may doubt the literal veracity
of God handing over a do-don’t list to an individual, tradition records the
date on which this occurred as the third day of a Hebrew month (Sivan).
The Judaic world celebrates this event as Shavuot: the season of the
giving of law. The commandments instill the values of honoring parents, of
remembering God at least once a week, of not stealing or killing, and the
like. One is asked not to have any other God but the one who gave the
commandments: perhaps what was demanded was loyalty to the enunciated
principles.
Christians
derive their moral inspiration from the Biblical life of Jesus, in particular,
from the Sermon on the Mount. Of this, St. Augustine wrote: "If
any one will piously and soberly consider the sermon which our Lord Jesus
Christ spoke on the mount, as we read it in the Gospel according to Matthew, I
think that he will find in it, so far as regards the highest morals, a perfect
standard of the Christian life…. The sermon is brought to a close in such a
way that it is clear there are in it all the precepts which go to mould
life.”
Values
in the Hindu world are enunciated in various sacred texts. For example, the
Bhagavad Gita recommends the following essential virtues to be cultivated:
"Fearlessness, purity of mind, determination in pursuit of knowledge and
austerities, charity, self-control, and performing prescribed rituals,
recitation of the Vedas, meditation, rectitude; non-violence, truthfulness,
being without anger, self-sacrifice, peace of mind; not criticizing,
compassion towards beings, non-coveting; gentleness, modesty, steadfastness;
courage, forgiving, fortitude, purity, freedom from malice and
haughtiness." The Dharmashastras prescribe behavioral norms and laws.
In
the Islamic world, the moral and legal framework is inspired by what is known
as the Sharia which is derived from the Holy Qur'an where it says:
"…We gave you the Sharia in religion. Follow it, and do not follow the
lust of those who do not know." Traditional Muslim world regards the
Sharia as the will of God, which has been described as "the totality of
religious, political, social, domestic, and private life."
Like
the Dharmashastras of the Hindu world (which are no longer in vogue in India),
the Sharia (which is practiced to varying degrees in various Islamic nations)
spells out not only what one must do, but also punishments for specific
derelictions. It includes the so-called Hadd-offences, mentioned in the
Qur’an, which must be dealt with medieval severity, such as lashes on the
back, severing of hands, and stoning to death. There are complex and varied
commentaries on it, and also different schools of Sharia.
Thanks largely to world-wide communication systems, the recognition of barbarities inherent in some traditional systems, as also a growing global trans-religious ethical system, modernists in all traditions are trying to re-interpret, modify, and even discard some of the injunctions in traditional religious frameworks which strike us as anachronistic, unconscionable and unacceptable in our present age. In the process, however, some socially beneficial traditional values are also being lost.
20.
Ethics: secular perspectives
Confucius
spoke with gentleness on the basic guidelines for being fully human. We read
in his Analects about benevolence, charity, love, right conduct, duty
towards others, selflessness, loyalty, reciprocity, honoring parents, and the
like: simple, yet sophisticated virtues with no mumble-jumble about God or
after-life or heaven. While stressing self-control, he did not recommend
self-denial.
In
the seventeenth century, while Gentiles and Grotius argued that the notion of
the law of nature "in the
juridical sense had come to be seen as that part of the divine law which
issues from the essential nature of man, who is distinguished from animals by
an appetite for tranquil association with his fellows and by his tendency to
act on universal principles,” Thomas Hobbes speculated that even the highest
moral behavior was ultimately instigated by selfish motives and colored by
unhealthy passions. In Hobbes’ view, even gratitude was never pure, but
tainted by a secret hostility toward the giver.
Gradually,
like other long-held prerogatives of religions, ethics too began to be usurped
by the rush of rationality and science. With knowledge of the mores of various
cultures and study of the behavior of different species, as also with an
understanding of the role of genes in biology, scientists have been analyzing
the source and significance of ethical principles. Fields like anthropology,
biology, and evolutionary psychology have brought down the sources of morality
from scriptural pedestals to survival needs, cultural forces, and genetic
programming.
Many
do's and don'ts are explained in terms of what is conducive to societal
survival and healthy species-propagation. Scientifically inclined thinkers are
persuaded that the impetus for ethics may often be traced to DNA; i.e. that
moral acts are emergent manifestations of molecular matter. Researchers into
the behavior of animals have been revealing how non-humans sometimes act very
much like us in morally sound ways. Frans De Waal's work shows that lowly
animals can be mutually friendly, caring, and cooperative.
This is in consonance with the ideas on morality developed by Michael
Cavanaugh who has discussed the thesis that "inside each of us, as a
function of our muscular and nervous and hormonal systems, is a propulsion
toward various kinds of actions. We share that propulsion with animals."
Richard Dawkins developed the idea of the selfish gene, which may be regarded
as the twentieth century elaboration of Hobbes's thesis by which altruism is
no more than camouflaged self-serving scheme. In this view, whether it is bees
that kill themselves to protect the hive, or jihadists who blow themselves up
to protect their cause and creed, or Mother Teresa who dedicated herself to
serve the abandoned, ultimately it is all genes, which are at work to
propagate themselves. Dawkins argues that we are unique only in that we can
refuse to succumb to the selfish gene. Others, mostly from religious
perspectives, insist that there is more to kindness, compassion, caring and
love than gene-instigated neuron firing.
A
look into the history of ideas generates little hope that the question will be
settled by debate or laboratory revelations. This is the kind of issue that
cannot be resolved by reason, argumentation, measuring device and mathematics.
When subjected to explanation, morality tends to lose its potency as an imperative for action. One can practice much virtue without postulating genetic coding at the root of kindness or compassion. The Samaritan who feeds a hungry stranger accomplishes much of value even if she has no inkling of DNA and RNA, and hasn't read erudite philosophers who write books on what makes us moral beings.
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21.
Three kinds of laws
From
the most ancient times human beings have regulated life and society by adhering
to certain well-regulated patterns of conduct.
This has been achieved by the enactment of laws which, as a member
of a society, one agrees to obey. Such
human-made or statutory laws govern all civilized societies. Statutory laws
preceded the recognition of laws of nature.
This is one reason why the term law was introduced to describe
ordered behavior in the physical world.
It was reasoned that Nature is also governed by strict laws
formulated by its Creator.
Statutory
laws prescribe constraints on members of a society.
These are meant to safeguard the interests of all people, rather
than to promote those of a few. Obedience
to such laws implies that everyone sacrifices some personal freedom; and
there is a check on inconsiderate use of one person’s freedom that affects
others negatively.
Statutory
laws can be broken, i.e. one can violate these laws.
Such violations are, of course, subject to appropriate penalties in a
society. In other words, the
breaking of a human-made law may result in unpleasant consequences for the
law-breaker. But a law of
nature cannot be broken, even in principle.
Violations of statutory laws are crimes or felonies.
Violations of laws of nature are regarded by some as miracle.
Miracles are not allowed in science.
Between
statutory and natural laws are certain kinds of laws whose status has
been the subject of much controversy. These
are the so-called moral laws. They
arise from a unique characteristic of humans in an evolved state.
Human beings experience what is called a conscience: which is an
intangible pointer that seems to indicate the difference between good and
bad, between right and wrong action. External
and preached principles of good and bad behavior may be questioned or
discarded, but the inner impulses for right action, and the deeper personal
feelings of guilt are often inescapable.
But
it is also true that inner ethical directives don't always point in the
same direction in all individuals or in peoples of different cultures.
Anthropologists and psychologists trace the origins of some of our inner
ethical principles to inculcation of value systems from infancy, by mother,
father, friend, preceptor, and cultural environment.
And
yet, one may argue that human beings, even with completely different cultural
upbringings, do have certain common criteria of right and wrong conduct.
Consider the following extreme cases: The cruel torture of a wounded,
invalid, blind four year old child who is gasping for breath would be
regarded as a wrong act by normal human beings in any society.
Similarly, practically any normal human being will consider it a
preferable (good) gesture to offer some water to a sick, old woman dying of
thirst rather than take away whatever water may be within her reach.
Whether
or not moral laws have the same standing as physical laws, they resemble
statutory laws in one important way: They can be violated.
Those who are inclined to give objective validity to moral laws
invoke a new idea in the context of this possibility.
They maintain that there operate in the universe (by which they
mean in this context the world of humans) certain inescapable laws of action
and consequences governing our behavior.
Invariably and inevitably, our good and bad actions will be rewarded
or punished sooner or later. This
is implied in the law of karma in the Hindu worldview and in “Whatever a
man soweth, that shall he also reap” of the New Testament. This prompted
Immanuel Kant to declare: "Two things fill the mind with ever new and
increasing admiration and awe …: the starry heavens above, and the moral
law within."