Yesterday evening we watched another episode of ‘Scottish Sacred Islands’ on BBC iPlayer, narrated by the very likeable adventurer, broadcaster and writer Ben Fogle. It was pleasant watching, Mrs Hayes and I both love the Scottish landscape, have had a couple of holidays there and hope to return.
However, I was a bit perplexed by the narrative, including Fogle’s monologues. It did not come across to me as an accurate or balanced history of the essentially Christian religion of these islands, which you might have expected from the title. The above poster for the series indicates that Fogle was keen to search out minority Eastern religions and people who liked to talk about their feelings rather than the historical Christianity that the Scottish islands are well known for. Above all, he used the word ‘spirituality’ maybe 20 times, the term ‘Christian’ not so much. On one occasion, visiting the picturesque abandoned island of Mingulay where there are some particularly spectacular cliffs, he proclaimed ‘This is my church, my synagogue, my mosque’.
Can anyone tell me what ‘spirituality’ means? I have my own ideas about what people think it means when they use the term subjectively, but objectively, what is it? Is there anything about ‘spirituality’ that is definite enough to be discussed? People whom I hear using the term about themselves seem to be saying ‘I am a good person because I think nice thoughts…when I look at the beauty in nature I experience certain pleasurable feelings…I have a warm heart and feel that there is ‘something’ beyond but I won’t be tied down by dogma: dogma is divisive…‘ The latter idea is interesting and somewhat contradictory because it is of course a truth statement, i.e. a dogma. All truth claims are divisive, including the claim that ‘division’ is automatically bad. See St Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians in which, while deploring the fact that there were divisions in the church, it was appropriate that those who were in the right stuck to their position.
Like C S Lewis, I believe in real reality: truth claims of all kinds may be set out to be questioned and if questioned must be defended. Also, competing/contradictory truth claims cannot both be equally true. A true truth is still true if set out imperfectly and/or by an unpleasant person-the Devil himself can tell the truth when it suits his purposes. Dangerously false claims may be put forward in a winsome and persuasive manner, and yet ‘There is a way which seems right to a man, but it ends in death.’ (Proverbs chapter 14 verse 12).
People understand this when we are talking about matters of physics and chemistry. It really does matter how you design and build bridges, medicines and aircraft because if you get these things wrong, people can die. Since physical realities are what they are objectively shown to be, however ‘inclusive’ and ‘non-dogmatic’ people may be disposed to feel, why do so many of us feel that it’s fine and dandy to embrace any kind of ‘spirituality’ that we fancy at any given moment? Hard line materialist atheism seems a more logical position, at least it’s a defined truth claim that can be questioned and/or defended, but how do you evaluate the truth or falsehood of ‘spirituality’? I have heard people address departed loved ones with terms like ‘wherever you are’ as if they could be anywhere, or perhaps wherever you, or they, might daydream of being. Somewhere nice of course. Assuming on the basis of subjective feelings that our lives in some sense continue after our body dies but giving no thought as to what this future eternal existence might be like or making suitable preparations for it seems to me more intellectually lazy than atheism. And, like atheism, ‘spiritual but not religious’ seems for most who adopt it as a philosophy to depend on a handful of unexamined sayings than any sort of intellectual rigour.
In Elwin Ransom’s initial dialogue with the strangely altered (*) Professor Weston in ‘Perelandra: A Voyage to Venus’, Weston talks about his new ‘spiritual’ life. As the conversation develops, Ransom grows increasingly uneasy. Weston talks about ‘the religious view of life’ to which Ransom replies that he is not at all sure about ‘the religious view of life‘ as he is a Christian. This might seem an odd reply to some (certainly Weston doesn’t’ like it) but Lewis knows exactly what he is writing here. The authentic Christian is not interested in ‘the religious (or ‘spiritual’) view of life’ but in God, the God who is What He knows Himself to be. Accept no substitutes or imposters! Similar views are expressed in Lewis’ after-life fantasy ‘The Great Divorce’ in which a protagonist says ‘We know nothing of religion here, only Christ.’
As the conversation between Ransom and Weston develops, Weston states that he has a new sense of purpose as he has been guided by a spiritual force. He asks if Ransom does not worship God because He is a spirit? Ransom replies that Christians worship God because He is good, not because He is a spirit. He mentions that a thing could be a spirit and not good for you, that the Devil is a spirit. Things go downhill from there, do read the whole book (indeed, the whole trilogy).
Just saying-spiritual does not automatically mean good. I have nothing against Mr Fogle or the BBC’s right to commission, create and broadcast a ‘spirituality lite and vague’ documentary (although I wish there could be something about authentic Evangelical Christianity for balance) but I do think such an intellectually vacuous approach should at least be politely questioned.
In ‘That Hideous Strength’ which I have just finished re-reading again, the character William Hingest, a chemist, when discussing a serious matter with Mark Studdock (a sociologist) responds to Studdock, who has just said that there are many ways of looking at certain things. Hingest responds that this may be so, until you know the answer. After that, he says, there is only ever one way of looking at it.
Truth is, always has been, and always will be, divisive.
(*) You’ll have to read the book to understand the full horror of what this means.
Old Hampshire C S Lewis Society 