After my brother Gordon died yesterday, I learned that some of my evangelical Christian family members were distressed that they did not have the chance to “save his soul” before he died. I had to tell them that I share Gordon’s disbelief in God, and that I was glad they did not have the opportunity to pester him on his deathbed.

All of this reminded me of a discussion I had about ten years ago with Jeff, my gentle and intelligent nephew, who also happens to be a devout Christian. Jeff had written an opinion piece on his religious blog, wherein he argued that one cannot truly appreciate the beauty and wonder of the Cosmos without believing in a Creator. He said “I look at the beauty of nature, or the magnificence found in a clear night sky, and I tremble with awe for the wonders laid out before me by a loving creator.” Jeff, in his essay, also took offense at some statements by Richard Dawkins mocking the God of the Old Testament.

I wrote some comments to Jeff following his essay. As I told Gordon at the time, “I was interested in the possibility of having an honest discussion with someone whose beliefs were radically different from my own” (someone whom I love very much, by the way). The following are my comments to my nephew Jeff (which I shared with Gordon, who agreed with me):

Beautifully expressed, as usual, Jeff. I especially liked your reference to how much mystery still confronts all honest seekers, and how all human beings are “hardwired” to be spiritual. You write:“… every human ever born on this earth is a spiritual being. We crave transcendence. We seem to be “hardwired” with a desire to connect with humanity, nature, and the cosmos. Most of us sense intuitively that it is a marvelous thing to immerse our lives in causes greater than ourselves. Those who do not, who simply live for their own pleasure and gain, end up shriveled and emaciated husks.”

As an atheist myself, I deeply honor the spiritual path that you are on, and see in your openness an opportunity to talk with mutual respect.

Dawkins clearly goes out of his way to provoke. He’s a provocateur. I wouldn’t do that because it tends to create anger and reaction and shut down the possibility of dialog.
At the same time, he’s not all wrong, is he, about the striking difference between the description of God in the Old Testament and the description of God in the New Testament (which is to say, after the world-altering appearance of Jesus).

For some years I was very interested in the writings of Carl Jung (or, since his own writing was very heavy and abstruse, the writings of his followers and interpreters) particularly his book, “Answer to Job.” As I understand it, Jung believed that the descriptions of God in both the Old and New Testaments were a reflection not of the reality of God but of the evolution of human consciousness from an archaic tribal, paternalistic and punitive mentality to a more modern awareness tempered by forgiveness. In his view, Jesus himself was the “answer to Job.” In other words, the “answer” to the relentless, punishing trials and misery inflicted on Job by the God of the Old Testament who needed to “test” Job’s faith (as if God lacked the sure knowledge of that faith). The same God who asked Abraham to sacrifice his son as an act of faith. If I understand Jung’s argument, he probably felt that Jesus would not have imposed such “tests.”

Your recent posting about fathers and the return of the Prodigal Son is a great example of the sort of forgiveness that would be out of character for the God of the Old Testament but completely in character for Jesus (that story was in fact part of his teaching, wasn’t it?).

Not that I have any standing to say this, but I think it would be OK for Christians to understand that they are primarily followers of Christ, not primarily followers of the God of the Old Testament, whom Dawkins has so rudely and provocatively indicted.

But, back to your description of our human hardwiring. I also believe that a hunger for transcendence is built into our natures.

Again as an atheist, I have spent the better part of a lifetime thinking about whether my sense of awe and wonder and pure joy at the miracle of existence has been in any way diminished by my lack of belief in a creator, and I cannot see that it has.

Jane reminded me just now of a preacher who often refers to our “unearned blessings.” I love that! It’s at the core of my sense of my place in the Universe. So I feel a deep kinship with all believers in God who come to that same appreciation and that same sense of gratitude.

I feel a tremendous joy that science, rather than conflicting with my spiritual beliefs, is completely in accord with them.

I recently tried to make a list of the essential ingredients of our built-in spiritual nature, a list of what we long for. It went something like this:

* An explanation of how the Universe began
* An explanation of how we are connected to all of creation
* A way to understand the community of all life

You wrote “Like so many people before me, I look at the beauty of nature, or the magnificence found in a clear night sky, and I tremble with awe for the wonders laid out before me … “

I completely share your feelings in this.

When reading science, I pay particular attention to the little factoids that prove our connection to all things. The iron in the hemoglobin of our red blood cells could only have been produced by the thermonuclear reactions in the hearts of stars, and was scattered into the Cosmos when they completed their lifecycles and exploded. This speaks too of how we as creatures are deeply embedded in the unfolding of time in the Cosmos. The Universe had to evolve to just a certain stage before the clay appeared out of which we were fashioned.

So, I don’t feel that we as creatures are merely connected to the Cosmos in some abstract sense. I feel that we are a deep expression of the Cosmos. In a manner of speaking, all conscious creatures are the Universe’s way of knowing itself.

And I know that when my life comes to an end I will return this clay, which I have been privileged to use for a brief time, to the Universe for its continued mysterious uses.

I heard a story some years ago about a twelve year-old girl who attended the planetarium show at Neal deGrasse Tyson’s Museum of Natural History in New York. It was apparently a journey at ever increasing scales through the entire Cosmos, from the Earth to the Solar System to our galaxy to our local group of galaxies to the largest fabrics of our Cosmos … and then a return home to Earth. The young girl was seen to emerge from the auditorium with tears streaming down her cheeks.

She was not made smaller by her grasp of the immensity of the mystery in which we live. She was enlarged, ennobled, made more meaningful by the immensity of it.

That’s exactly how I feel. And many of my tears of joy are just like hers.

So I feel, with my particular style of atheism, a tremendous respect for and kinship with your particular style of religious belief.

I agree with you when you say that we are all seekers. And I would add … seekers in search of understanding the mystery into which we were born and into which we will all too soon die.

Much love to you, Jeff

Uncle Don.

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POSTSCRIPT:

Concerning that twelve year-old girl I mentioned above, I spent years trying to track down exactly what planetarium show she had seen. Without boring you with all the clues I chased, let me just tell you that I found that it was a show written by Ann Druyan, widow of astronomer Carl Sagan (I think she also collaborated with him on his “Cosmos” series). So I wrote to her at Cornell University, and here’s her reply:

Dear Don Pelton,

I appreciate your kind letter. I believe you are referring to “Passport to the Universe” the planetarium show I wrote with Steve Soter for the Hayden Planetarium at the American Museum of Natural History in New York City.

I treasure the recollection of seeing two little girls open their arms wide to embrace the cosmos during that show. I found your account gratifying in that same way.

Thanks for taking the time to write.

With best regards,

Ann

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Note: Jane and I — along with a couple of friends — were able to see this planetarium show a few years ago at the Morrison Planetarium at the California Acadeny of Sciences in San Francisco.