The prolific Karen Armstrong, the renowned historian of religion, has surtitled this her twelfth book, "What Religion Really Means." I imagine she conceived it as a response to the militant atheists, such as Dawkins and Hitchens, whose polemics against religion in any form have become bestsellers. Armstrong is at her very best at succinctly summarizing long stretches of religious history, which she does here. I think it is her best work since the seminal "A History of God."
One of her main points is that if one criticizes any subject, one should primarily discuss the best the subject has to offer. If one's subject is music, for instance, isn't it more informative to discuss Mozart rather than Musak? (Unless, of course, one is writing about the role of music in society.) It is easy to dismiss debased religion, which the atheists largely do,as if a televanglist epitomizes the subject more than a great religious philosopher. Her criticism of the militant atheists is fair and Obama-like--she concedes that they have some valid points and wants to bring them into dialogue in order to reach a sort of coincidencia oppisitorum. This is in marked contrast to the current and popular diatribes against religion. Surely something that has accompanied humanity since before recorded history must have developed some positive aspects over the centuries! Armstrong has no ax to grind; her ideal is the Socratic philosopher who does not set out to destroy his opponents. She states her case gently yet clearly, but is never arrogant or condescending.
Just what is the case for God, as she describes it? First of all, she makes clear what it is not. She believes that the problem many people have with religion lies with what she calls "the modern God," an idol. The tremendous success of rationality and science since the Enlightenment has corrupted religion; since science became the touchstone of everything, people confused religious truths with scientific facts. Her contention is that the belief that dogma are every bit as factual as the periodic table is a modern phenomenon. I am not quite sure this is true, since early Fathers of the Church, such as Irenaeus, were indeed biblical literalists. But she presents very convincing evidence that religious thinkers in the past went deeper. Aquinas might have written five proofs of God, but then goes on to undermine them as quod omnes dicunt Deum--what people call God. The reality, of course, is much more profound. She favors the aphophatic approach, that is, approaching transcendence through silence, and discusses Dionysius the Areopagite (whom she refers to by his alternate name, Denys) at length, who is one of the greatest masters of this approach. Another concept she often discusses as an alternative to religious arrogance is kenosis, the Greek term for a humble self-emptying.
What if a caveman were confronted with a piano? He would have no idea of the glories that a pianist could produce from the instrument; Mozart would be as unimaginable to him as the existence of distant galaxies. He would make some noise, perhaps, and then, perhaps, use the Steinway as firewood. This is how Armstrong sees the lack of appreciation for the instrument of religion, the human being, prevalent today. Critics talk, they don't practice. Religion must be practiced, as ritual and as a social and moral phenomenon, to be able to gradually effect a positive change both in the individual and in society. I remember an old Carol Burnett skit in which she plays a troubled person who sits down at the piano and plays a brilliant polonaise by Chopin. She gets up from the bench and says, "Now I know I'm going crazy--I never played the piano before!" In real life, religion, like music, takes years and years of practice.
Armstrong is a master of saying a lot with little, in clear, lucid prose. She is often able to strengthen her thesis, that is, that religion is both more profound and valid for contemporary life than popularly assumed by many these days, with brief quotes from geniuses of the past. Her brief reference to the great Italian poet, Petrarch, is as follows: "(Petrarch) argued that 'theology is actually poetry, poetry concerning God' effective not because it proved anything, but "because it reached the heart." Well said! Religion is less the opium of the people than the poetry of the people. Sure it is often bad poetry, Halmark verse rather than poetry, but an attempt at poetry nevertheless. Armstrong is never condescending to the less sophisticated--she allows freely that many decent people, who have very little relation to science, may believe in the Bible literally--and if this helps them to be humble and do good, she will not criticize them. But, as Armstrong states, this is impossible for many, for whom she presumably has written this book. Sympathy for the less educated is the source of one of Armstrong's most cogent criticisms of the militant atheists: "They do not appear to consider the effect of such nihilism on people who do not have privileged lives and absorbing work." A very valid point!
She presents a cogent and brief analysis of how postmodernism has made the strident certainties of even science obsolete. It is time for reconciliation. She does not advocate an abstract, postmodernist "weak thought" approach to transcendence; religion must be struggled with and put into practice.
Although, as the sentence from Petrarch amply illustrates, religious thinkers of the past went beyond literalism, Armstrong, I think, is somewhat inaccurate in this regard. Aquinas used the ground of literal belief as a springboard; he did not deny its existence. The Capadocians did not deny the importance of kergyma, that is, literal doctrine; they did believe that it must be transcended. I doubt if we would know so much about Jesus of Nazareth today--how much is historical is debatable, of course--if people hadn't believed after the crucifixion that this man was "really" the son of God. In those days, there was no conflict between literalism and science since scientific knowledge was so rudimentary in first-century Palestine. An intelligent person centuries ago might have seriously considered how many angels could fit on the tip of the pin; only the woefully ignorant or haplessly mad could consider such a subject today.
Armstrong presents a strong case for religion at its highest. This excellent book, however, will probably not change many lives, since reading about religion without practicing is nothing more than refined entertainment. The fault is ours, however, if we fail to put the quest for transcendence into practice. Life is full of our terrible failures to do just that. What a pity!
