Tuesday, July 24, 2007

A journey for skeptics

(How the idea of personal spirituality might be presented to a group of religious outsiders.)

I want to talk about the obvious — things most of you accept as part of your everyday reality. But I also want to explore the obvious a bit, to see if there are things beneath the surface that you may not have thought about. Before I start, I want to be upfront about one thing: This is a church-sponsored program. But I’m not going to talk about God or religion. We sponsor this program as a service, to see if what I have to say is helpful to you, whatever kind of God you believe in — or even if you don’t believe in God. I know you may be skeptical about that, so let me show you by doing.

Here’s something that is probably obvious to most of us: We have a “self.” You know the difference between “me” and “you.” You know who’s talking and listening when you talk to yourself. You know about looking out for your self-interest. You experience your “self” in your body and your consciousness.

And there’s probably something else that is obvious about your “self”: It can make decisions. Most of us know we can’t make something happen just by wishing for it. And we know that we’re influenced by lots of outside factors — the time and place we’re in, the physical characteristics of our bodies, what happened to us while we were growing up. But we also know that we have real options and make real choices. We may have habits and inclinations, but we can decide to go against expectations, and sometimes do.

Also, I think we’d agree that we live in an orderly world of physical laws. This allows us predict what will happen — the sun will rise tomorrow, pressing the light switch will turn on the bulb, the microwave will pop the popcorn. Sometimes something will go wrong, but it isn’t because the sun or the light switch or the microwave decided to be contrary. Most of us accept the idea that physical objects around us don’t decide things on their own. They are simply obeying cause-and-effect laws.

Wait a minute! We are physical objects, yet we think we have the ability to make decisions. How can that be? There are two obvious explanations. One is that our ability to make decisions is an illusion, that we trick ourselves into believing that the choice was made by our “self.” The other is that our ability to choose — our free will — exists in harmony with material law but is not governed by physical law. Another way to say that is this: Our “self” receives input from the physical world, and our decisions affect the physical world, but, between input and output, there is a process that is real, but non-physical.

I don’t think anyone has been able to prove which option is correct. But I think it’s obvious that most of us live as if the second option is true — that the human “self” is “the decider,” not mechanistic external laws.

So what is the “self”? The short answer is that it is consciousness, self-awareness. Now, it is possible that other animals have consciousness. Never having been an aardvark, I don’t know. But I think you would agree that there’s a richness and complexity to human consciousness that is unique among the creatures we know. We can think abstractly: A gold ring is not just a shiny object; it is also a code on the periodic table of elements. We are driven to ask “why?” For example, we are not simply curious about what’s around the corner of a building up ahead, but we wonder why we can see around the corner when it’s made of dirt fused into glass but not when it’s made of dirt baked into brick. We are creative. We thrive on humor. We can make decisions based on the experiences of people we’ve never met. All these elements reinforce and expand each other in the human “self” in a way that enables us to experience life in a special way. And at the core of this experience — the reality that turns thought into action — is non-physical free will.

To me, the best word for non-physical reality is “spirituality.” But I know that word means different things to different people. So, when I talk about “Human Spirit,” I am simply referring to that special richness of the human “self” that has at its core the non-physical phenomenon of free will. But you can think of it simply as “human life,” if you’re not yet ready to buy into my definition.

One of the obvious things about the Human Spirit (or human life, if you prefer) is that I feel wildly fortunate to be able to experience my “self.” What are the odds that I am what I am, and you are what you are? Most atoms in the universe are some form of cosmic dust. Most objects are not alive. Most creatures are not human. I think it’s awesome that I exist at all. And to be who I am? Did you know that if you could trace your family tree only as far as the beginning of the Middle Ages, you would have more than a billion ancestors! That means that, if any one of a half-billion sexual encounters hadn’t happened at the moment it did, you wouldn’t be here. Someone else, perhaps, but not your body and your “self.” I think that’s miraculous. Not miraculous in the sense of a freak supernatural event, but in the everyday-miracle sense, in the way a spectacular view can thrill us or a piece of music can touch our hearts. The existence of my “self” fills me with awe and wonder. I am a miracle, and you are, too!

I think it’s also obvious to most of us that we had no part in creating ourselves. I didn’t earn my “self.” That I exist is not a sign of my merit, or my inferiority. I know that my existence is a gift, even if I don’t know where the gift came from — my parents? Mother Nature? God? Lady Luck? Whatever the source, I know that it’s a gift that is precious to me. And not just a precious gift, but the most precious gift I will ever receive. It stands to reason, then, that how satisfied I am with my life is tied to how well I respect and cultivate that gift.

But if my “self” is a precious, unearned gift, isn’t that true of everyone else? Can I respect my own gift if I don’t respect the equal gift received by others? That doesn’t mean that I have to like them, or let them run all over me. But it does mean that I shouldn’t turn other people into stereotypes or dehumanized slogans. I should try to recognize that we share a gift in common, I should be curious about their lives and concerned for their well-being. I should be cautious about assuming that my free will has led me to the Truth, while their free will could not lead them to an equal or even better Truth.

This has led us to the matter of morality. Obviously, this is not a morality based on rule books or simple certainties. And this is not a morality that encourages us to look for loopholes or try to fool the judge. Ultimately, we take stock of ourselves, and we know our tricks and evasions. I hope we don’t try to judge ourselves against perfection, but we will certainly know how hard we have tried to respect the gift of Human Spirit (or human life) in ourselves and in others.

But, even as I say that, I realize that we can no longer treat Human Spirit and human life as two ways to describe the same thing. Here’s a deep question to ponder: If human life doesn’t include free will, can it include moral responsibility? If you don’t have control over your decisions, why sweat it? What happens is what was destined to happen, shaped by a thousand factors beyond your control. You’re not responsible!

I don’t want you to make a snap judgment about free will and the Human Spirit. And I don’t want you to decide that free will is true just because the alternative seems unpleasant. Instead, I hope you will take time to think seriously about how you could rule out non-physical free will without ruling out the ability of your “self” to make choices. Think seriously about how you would find meaning in life if all your decisions are dictated by outside forces. And think seriously about your own experience, to see if free will doesn’t seem more likely than not.