Lois Hope Walker,

Religion Gives Meaning to Life [From Louis Pojman, Philosophy: The Quest for Truth, 2nd edition (Wadsworth Publishers). Lois Hope Walker is a pseudonym for an author who wishes to remain anonymous.] SEVERAL YEARS AGO during a class break, I was discussing the significance of

religion in our society with a few students in the college lounge. I, at that time an

agnostic, was conceding to a devout Christian that it would be nice if theism were

true, for then the world would not be simply a matter of chance and necessity, a sad

tale with a sadder ending. Instead, “the world would be personal, a gift from our

heavenly Father, who provides a basis for meaning and purpose.” A mature woman

from another class, whom I knew to be an atheist, overheard my remarks, charged

through a group of coffee drinkers and angrily snapped at me, “That is the most

disgusting thing I’ve ever heard!” I inquired why she thought this, and she replied,

“Religion keeps humans from growing up. We don’t need a big Daddy in the sky. We

need to grow up and become our own parents.”I recalled Nietzsche’s dictum that now

that “God is dead,” now that we have killed the Holy One, we must ourselves become gods to seem worthy of the

deed. The atheist woman was prizing autonomy over meaning and claiming that

religion did just the opposite. In other words, she held two theses: (1) It is more important to be free or autonomous than to have a grand

meaning or purpose to life. (2) Religion provides a grand meaning or purpose to life, but it does not allow

humans to be free or autonomous. I’ve thought a lot about that woman’s response over the years. I think that she is

wrong on both counts. In this essay I will defend religion against her two theses and

try to show that meaning and autonomy are both necessary orimportant ingredients for

an ideal existence and that they are compatible within a religious framework. Let me begin with the first thesis, that it is more important to be free than that there

be meaning in life. First let us define our terms. By “autonomy” I mean self-

governing, the ability to make choices on the basis of good reasons rather than being

coerced by threats or forces from without. By “meaning” in life I mean that life has a purpose. There is some intrinsic rationale

or plan to it. Now this purpose can be good, bad, or indifferent. An example of

something with a bad purpose is the activity of poisoning a reservoir on which a

community depends for its sustenance. An example of something with an indifferent

purpose might be pacing back and forth to pass the time of day (it is arguable that this

is bad or good depending on the options and context, and if you think that then either

choose your own example or dismiss the category of indifferent purpose). An example

of a good purpose is digging a well in order to provide water to a community in need

of water. Now it seems to be the case that, as a value, autonomy is superior to indifferent and

bad purposes, since it has positive value but these other two categories do not.

Autonomy may be more valuable to us than some good purposes, but it does not seem

to be superior to all good purposes. While it may be more valuable to be free than to

have this or that incidental purpose in life, freedom cannot really be understood apart

from the notion of purposiveness. To be free is to be able to do some act A, when you

want to, in order to reach some goal G. So the two ideas are related. But the atheist

woman meant more than this. She meant that if she had to choose whether to have

free will or to live in a world that had a governing providential hand, she would

choose the former. But this seems to make two mistakes. (1) It makes autonomy into

an unjustified absolute and (2) it creates a false dilemma. (1) Consider two situations: In situation A you are as free as you are now (say you

have 100 units of autonomy — call these units “autonotoms”) but are deeply miserable

because you are locked in a large and interesting room which is being slowly filled

with poisonous gas. You can do what ever you want for five more minutes but then

you will be dead. In situation B, however, you have only 95 autonotoms (that is, there

are a few things that you are unable to do in this world — say commit adultery or kill your neighbor) but the room is being filled with

sunshine and fresh air. Which world would you choose? I would choose situation B,

for autonomy, it seems to me, is not the only value in the universe, nor is it always the

overriding value. I think most of us would be willing to give up a few autonotoms for

an enormous increase in happiness. And I think that a world with a good purpose

would be one in which we would be willing to give up a few bits of freedom. If we

were told that we could eliminate poverty, crime, and great suffering in the world by

each sacrificing one autonotom, wouldn’t we do this? If so, then autonomy is not an

absolute which always overrides every other value. It is one important value among

others. I turn to the atheist’s second thesis, that religion always holds purpose as superior to

autonomy. I think that this is a misunderstanding of what the best types of religion try

to do. As Jesus said in John 8:32, “Ye shall know the truth and the truth shall set you

free.” Rather than seeing freedom and meaning as opposites, theism sees them as

inextricably bound together. Since it claims to offer us the truth about the world, and

since having true beliefs is important in reaching one’s goals, it follows that our autonomy is actually heightened in having the truth about the

purpose of life. If we know why we are here and what the options in our destiny really

are, we will be able to choose more intelligently than the blind who lead the blind in

ignorance. Indeed theistic religion (I have in mind Judaism, Christianity, and Islam,

but this could apply to many forms of Hinduism and African religions as well) claims

to place before us options of the greatest importance, so that if it is true the world is

far better (infinitely better?) than if it is not. Let me elaborate on this point. If theism is true and there is

a benevolent supreme being governing the universe, the following eight theses are

true: 1. We have a satisfying explanation of the origin and sustenance of the universe. We

are the product not of chance and necessity or an impersonal Big Bang, but of a

Heavenly Being who cares about us. As William James says, if religion is true, “the

universe is no longer a mere It to us, but a Thou … and any relation that may be possible from person to person

might be possible here.” We can take comfort in knowing that the visible world is part

of a more spiritual universe from which it draws its meaning and that there is, in spite of evil, an essential harmonious relation between our world and the transcendent reality. 2. Good will win out over evil — we’re not fighting alone, but God is on our side in

the battle. So, you and I are not fighting in vain — we’ll win eventually. This thought

of the ultimate victory of Goodness gives us confidence to go on in the fight against

injustice and cruelty when others calculate that the odds against righteousness are too

great to fight against. 3. God loves and cares for us — His love compels us (II Corinthians 5:7), so that we

have a deeper motive for morally good actions, including high altruism. We live

deeply moral lives because of deep gratitude to One who loves us and whom we love.

Secularism lacks this sense of cosmic love, and it is, therefore, no accident that it fails

to produce moral saints like Jesus, St. Francis, Gandhi, Martin Luther King, and

Mother Teresa. You need special love to leave a world of comfort in order to go to a

desolate island to minister to lepers, as Father Damian did. 4. We have an answer to the problem why be moral — it’s clearly in your interest.

Secular ethics has a severe problem with the question, Why be moral when it is not in

your best interest, when you can profitably advance yourself by an egoistic act? But

such a dilemma does not arise in religious ethics, for Evil really is bad for you and the

Good good for you. 5. Cosmic Justice reigns in the universe. The scales are perfectly balanced so that

everyone will get what he or she deserves, according to their moral merit. There is no

moral luck (unless you interpret the grace which will finally prevail as a type of

“luck”), but each will be judged according to how one has used one’s talents

(Matthew, chapter 25). 6. All persons are of equal worth. Since we have all been created in the image of God

and are His children, we are all brothers and sisters. We are family and ought to treat

each other benevolently as we would family members of equal worth. Indeed, modern

secular moral and political systems often assume this equal worth of the individual

without justifying it. But without the Parenthood of God it makes no sense to say that

all persons are innately of equal value. From a perspective of intelligence and utility,

Aristotle and Nietzsche are right, there are enormous inequalities, and why, shouldn’t

the superior persons use the baser types to their advantage? In this regard, secularism,

in rejecting inegalitarianism, seems to be living off of the interest of a religious capital

which it has relinquished. 7. Grace and forgiveness — a happy ending — for all. All’s well that ends well (the

divine comedy). The moral guilt which we experience, even for the most heinous acts,

can be removed, and we can be redeemed and given a new start. This is true moral

liberation. 8. There is life after death. Death is not the end of the matter, but we shall live on,

recognizing each other in a better world. We have eternity in our souls and are

destined for a higher existence. (Of course, hell is a problem here which vitiates the

whole idea somewhat, but many variations of theism [e.g., varieties of theistic

Hinduism and the Christian theologians Origen (in the second century), F. Maurice,

and Karl Barth] hold to universal salvation in the end. Hell is only a temporary school

in moral education — I think that this is a plausible view.) So if Hebraic-Christian theism is true, the world is a friendly home in which we are all

related as siblings in one family, destined to live forever in cosmic bliss in a reality in

which good defeats evil. If theism is false and secularism is true, then there is no

obvious basis for human equality, no reason to treat all people with equal respect, no

simple and clear answer to the question, Why be moral even when it is not ‘in my best

interest? There is no sense of harmony and purpose in the universe, but “Whirl has

replaced Zeus and is king” (Sophocles).Add to this the fact that theism doesn’t

deprive us of any autonomy that we have in nontheistic systems. We are equally free

to choose the good or the evil whether or not God exists (assuming that the notions of

good and evil make sense in a non-theistic universe) — then it seems clear that the

world of the theist is far better and more satisfying to us than one in which God does

not exist. Of course, the problem is that we probably do not know if theism, let alone

our particular religious version of it, is true. Here must use a Pascalean argument to

press my third point that we may or, at least, it may be good to live as if theism is true.

That is, unless you think that theism is so improbable that we should not even

consider it as a candidate for truth, we should live in such a way as to allow the

virtues of theism to inspire our lives and our culture. The theistic world view is so far

superior to the secular that even though we might be agnostics or weak atheists — it is

in our interest to live as though it were true, to consider each person as a child of God,

of high value, to work as though God is working with us in the battle of Good over

evil, and to build a society based on these ideas. It is good then to gamble on God.

Religion gives us a purpose to life and a basis for morality that is too valuable to

dismiss lightly. It is a heritage that we may use to build a better civilization and one

which we neglect at our own peril.