Conventional wisdom has long advised against conversations on politics and religion. But the more conventional the wisdom, the greater my desire to prove it wrong. Politics is a minefield, but I believe it’s possible to have mutually enriching conversations on religion. First though, everyone has to be willing to admit what they don’t know.
The ultimate questions, “What happens after we die? Is there a God? Is there life after death? Is death final?” are best approached with humility.
The only thing we know for sure is that we don’t know anything for sure. It’s a curious paradox. No one knows if there is an afterlife and no one knows if there isn’t. We won’t find out till we die — and only then if consciousness endures.
Great certainty is professed on both sides of the question, but that’s belief, which is different from “knowing.” Belief is a powerful force that deserves respect, but it’s not proof. Some who have had “near-death” experiences claim glimpses into the unknown that are tantalizing but rise only to the level of “possibility.” Others contend there are different kinds of knowing: intuition, altered states of consciousness, vivid dreams, visions, even divine revelation. And some testify that they have been visited by loved ones who have died. None of this should be dismissed.
Jesus and Lazarus from the New Testament of the Christian Bible are the best known accounts of rising from the dead — though not everyone accepts the Bible as literal truth.
Still, all of this qualifies as “evidence,” which shores up our dearest hopes — that there is something beyond death, that we might meet loved ones again and encounter a divine entity of ultimate “goodness.” I have similar hopes.
However certain we might be in our beliefs, we won’t know for sure until we die … yet that is our common ground on these ultimate questions, which everyone wonders about — because it’s impossible not to.
The good news: humbly acknowledging that we don’t know frees us to honor the wide range of human “hypotheses” about life beyond death and what that might look like. No one taking part in such a conversation would have to feel defensive or threatened about their most cherished speculations. Having established that no one knows for sure, we can share our respective scenarios with the assurance that no one can dismiss them or try to “impose” their belief systems on us because we all stand, shoulder to shoulder, before this great mystery on the same firm and equal footing of not knowing.
To do this, obviously, is a stretch for anyone who clings tenaciously to the notion that they possess “the truth” or belong to the “one true faith” or that their conception of God is superior to anyone else’s — or conversely, that there is no God or afterlife at all and what’s the point of wondering?
Well, what’s the point of curiosity? Curiosity drives us. We can’t help wondering. Besides, it’s great fun.
Faith has inspired human beings to do much good work in the world, but also to commit acts of awful cruelty, resulting from the need to be “right,” branding those who believe differently as dangerous. When belief combines arrogance with pride, it brings out the worst in human beings. Humility, on the other hand, brings out the best.
Humbly admitting we don’t know does not undermine anyone’s beliefs. On the contrary, it affirms them and allows all of us to share our spiritual, or non-spiritual, journeys and how we came to our beliefs, including atheism, which is also a belief. Everyone can join this conversation simply by saying, “I don’t know, but here are the stepping stones that forged my belief and this is how it affects the way I live.” Or “I don’t have a firm faith, but here are my hunches.” We can learn much from one another.
It is the antidote to arrogance. It might even end religious warfare. You never know.
We have learned so much from science about the complicated and mysterious universe we inhabit, but scientists only “know” things about it until their admirable pursuit of knowledge forces an adjustment. The practitioners of science are regularly humbled by new discoveries. They know how to let go of what they knew for a deeper, better knowing.
Religious practitioners likewise could loosen their grip on “divine revelation” enough to allow for “ongoing revelation,” the process of gradual growth known as evolution, which the Creator set in motion — if there is a Creator. And if evolution is that Creator’s modus operandi, then what if God, too, is evolving — or at any rate our conception of God? Something fascinating to wonder about if we can free ourselves from the chains of dogma.
“You never know” could be our universal mantra, and the rock on which we build the convergence of a new cosmology-theology.
Really, we should talk.
