Mysteries for Poets and Skeptics

A partial response to the thread of "Do you go to hell for having the wrong theory of atonement?"

AnAtheist.Net enjoys watching theologians continue to dispute a theology of atonement after two millennia:

"This seems like something that God could have clarified from day one. I wonder if He gets a certain amount of pleasure (as much as I do) from watching all of these theologians wrestle and disagree with one another over His plan of salvation for 2,000 years."

That could be. If it is then I bet God gets equal pleasure watching scientists fumble trying to understand the origin of the universe, the nature of dark energy and dark matter, the origin of life, the relationship between consciousness and the brain, and innumerable other issues.

And I'll bet that God enjoys most of all watching people blithely ignore the paradoxes, problems and perplexities in their view of the world (the planks in their own eye) even as they titter like little school girls at the paradoxes, problems and perplexities in the views of others.

TheOtherSorcero complains about the nature of metaphor in theology:

"You acknowledge that the scripture includes these metaphors to explain the mechanics of atonement. You futher deny that these metaphors are an accurate representation of the mechanics of atonement. Therefore, you are saying that the scripture at this point is wrong on the mechanics of atonement."

My guess is that TheOtherSorcero does not have a degree in English literature, for he seems to have no appreciation here for the heuristic power of idiom. Metaphors have a powerful function in our language, but it is not the function of literal description.

Alas, the person who thinks they can avoid metaphor and only "speak the truth straight" is kidding themselves, for our language is completely saturated with metaphor. (Pick out the metaphors in the last sentence just for fun. "Saturated"? As if a mind is a sponge and ideas water? Oh yeah, and what does it mean to speak the truth "straight" as opposed to "crooked"?)

Metaphors do not apply theoretical explications of phenomena, but they do enable novel, heuristic ways to think about things, especially things that transcend our understanding.

Transcend our understanding? There's an idea! Is it even possible that some aspect of the natural world transcend our understanding?

The hubris of the question should make us blush, whether we are theists, atheists, or anything in between. Of course we should expect this! Our brains are pretty amazing, but analyze that spongy folded lump of grey matter between your ears and you'll find no guarantee that it provides penetrating insight into everything.

Here on earth, we can in principle see the top of any mountain from a suitable vantage point at the base. Not so on Mars. Olympus Mons, the tallest mountain in the solar system, is so high (three times the height of Mt. Everest) that standing at its base you cannot see the summit because it disappears over the horizon of the planet.

Could it be that there are problems in our understanding of the natural world which are similar to Olympus Mons? They are so complex that they disappear over the horizon, beyond our understanding? Atheist philosopher Colin McGinn recognizes this and has even dubbed the position "mysterianism". Though still a dirty idea in some neighborhoods, thankfully more atheists, naturalists, skeptics and others are conceding the possibility of things - the universe emerging out of nothing, the origin of life from non-life, the origin of consciousness, et cetera - the origin and/or nature of which might in principle transcend our understanding.

If we concede that some problems in our understanding of the natural world may be like Olympus Mons, is it possible that there might be aspects to reality transcending the natural which likewise transcend our understanding? Might the theologian have his (or her) own share of problems, paradoxes and perplexities?

And at such points as these, perhaps we might begin to shed our chains of prejudice against the rich resources of the poets' toolbox, instead grabbing the flotsam of idiom as we tentatively wade into a sea of mysteries.