I’m sentenced to death. Let’s say it’s because of a terminal disease and there’s the certainty that I’ll suffer a miserable, agonizing, slow demise. I’ve done nothing great in my life. I won’t leave behind any piece of me except what others’ memories may tell; no great writings, inventions, ideas; no children or spouse whose lives I’ve touched. As I’m lying on my deathbed, with my final, piercing gasps of breath, my life might, as the cliché goes, “flash before my eyes.” Will I be comforted by the thoughts of what I’ve done, or be sorry for all I haven’t? My reputation means nothing to the “me” there is once I’m buried. There’s little condolence to think that, if I’ve been good enough, at least my funeral will be well-attended and some people might be sad for a while. On occasion, they’ll say they miss me. Maybe even think back to the good times we had, or, if I’d been an especially important figure, write about me. And so what? What is bitter-sweet nostalgia, or fame and glory, or anything, to me in the end?
When your body goes into the earth, and they speak of you as such, as your “remains,” what of you really remains –– is your “self” as dead as your flesh? There’s your memory, belonging to others, the fading, abstract “remains,” and then also your body, the also fading, but slightly more concrete “remains.” The graveyard is piled high with those who were once important, and not; those who were loved and loved in return, and those who weren’t and didn’t; the virtuous, and the not. All come to the same fate. We leave behind on a stone slab a few scribbles to differentiate us from the countless others: our name and two dates separated by a line. A mere line! Maybe just a dash, really. And that’s our whole life, our existence, and experiences, summed up between two numbers.
What if that didn’t have to be the end of the story? What if we could pass on and then hear, “but wait, there’s more!” Maybe we have an eternal soul, and maybe there’s an afterlife after all. Would knowing that influence our actions on this earth? Does one act more virtuously or less if he believes there is life beyond this one, and should he? Little is certain in life, but dying is. While I’m not advocating becoming death-obsessed, I think we must wryly accept death as a fact of life, and only then can we master the art of living well. If we believe that death is the final end, that there is nothing beyond this life, what is the effect on our ethics?
We can never know that there is going to be more, but what we can know, and maybe the only thing, is that we exist (what existence is and what it is to “know” are tricky things in epistemology, but that’s not for this post). The only thing we’re assured is the present, and the knowledge that what we have in this present will not last. Actions reflect who we are, so do they become more important in light of an eternity, or less?
I’m tempted to say that I’m less virtuous if I believe there’s nothing beyond this life. Being a goody-two-shoes or actually doing great and worthy things means being admired, loved, and respected for a while. There is the possibility of “living on” by example though history, but that seems like weak incentive to me to sacrifice the only life I’m assured if it means constantly doing things I don’t want to do and aren’t in my immediate self-interest. I’m less likely to adhere to societal constructs if it’s better for me that I don’t and I know that my actions don’t, in the end, mean anything more than what they can do for me individually, in the here and now. Retaining liberty by staying out of jail is worth ensuring, of course, but anything beyond that is up for grabs. Actions, and life, ultimately become all that’s important; they also become completely unimportant too. All that I do is really all that matters, and that idea leads to some not so happy places if we want. I can strive to do my best, or to do anything else really, and it has no supreme meaning for me as a person with a soul if it really only has earthly meaning for me as an individual product of society.
We can say that. However, if we think there’s nothing more, no Supreme Reality or Ultimate Existence, or eternal damnation or eternal life, we could also choose another way. We can take it that, if this is it, our actions and character is all that much more important for their finality. We can choose to make our lives, instead of insignificant, meaningful and momentous, and cherish our short time, and seek to be and to do good, for there will be no second chance. To say, I know that this is all I have so I will make the most of it. I will choose to be happy knowing that I only have one shot at this life business, and that I did with it all that I could, even if there’s nothing more.
If, instead, there is an afterlife, and/or we do have eternal souls, this too would influence our course of actions, and there’s a world of interesting possibilities for that, but I’ll stop here for now. And, well, if there is life beyond this one, all I can say is that I hope there are the following things: Music, Love, and, of course, Baseball (but without the Yankees). So what do you think: Would the belief that there is no Great Beyond be a positive encouragement or a detriment to the common good, morality, and ethics?
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Be Good for Goodness’ Sake?
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7 comments:
Wonderful set of reflections, Andrea. I'm not sure, finally, whether it matters one way or the other when we look at humanity as a whole. It seems to me that you can find a mixture of morality and immorality have existed in every culture regardless of the substance of their theological beliefs. I think the question must be put to the individual, not the societal, level. There will always be reason to be good, and always be reason to break rules to one's own perceived advantage. Oddly, though, regardless of a culture's beliefs in the afterlife, there has never been a culture without rules of good or bad. So...though Mother Teresa needed God to be Mother Teresa, it's conceivable of other Mother Teresa-like women who had no such belief.
There seems to be within a sense of morality that is found across the bounds of culture. It is this sense of morality that prompts people to tell the truth and to not cheat on their spouses. If there is really a belief in the afterlife, specifically in regards to judgment, then I do believe that people do act differently. The early followers of Jesus would have behaved much differently if they did not believe the claims of Christ. Paul would have kept on killing the Christians and demolishing the church, even if he knew that something was wrong with his actions. I think that those that truly believe in an afterlife have a higher view of morality. If there is no afterlife, then it's okay to tell lies here and there in my own self interest, especially if those lies really don't "hurt" anyone.
Dr. Bailey: good points for consideration. As Mother Theresa had vivid, personal religious experiences which had profound influences on her life, she had deeper assurance than many about why she should do good works and where she would go after death. As you suggest, perhaps the certainty of religion is not necessary, though. It is conceivable that non-religious or non-Christian others would do good for its own sake, or for the feelings it creates, or in the hope that others would/will do the same in turn to make life better for all. Religious certainty about an eternal reward prompts people to do many things they would not otherwise do, like hijacking a plane and flying into the World Trade Center. And it can promote good things too. But, without religion, or even with it, if I am uncertain about a life or existence after death, how might I justify over-the-top, common good actions? More than the little, not inconvenient niceties, would I be keen on donating huge amounts of money and time to charity just because it’s the proverbial right thing to do? Would I invest myself in preserving the environment for the next generations? It would have to be not for my own children, as I have none, but in consideration of the kids to come who will not know or care about me. I am not sure about a common sense of morality within, as Anonymous writes, that universally and consistently spans across culture and time. I might be inclined not to lie and to be faithful for many different reasons than fearing such actions would make me feel guilty or that they are sins in the eyes of a God. People can be honest and have integrity apart from believing in an afterlife, because then the actions and the character you build here on earth are all the chance you’re going to get. But if I value being a faithful spouse, but I know I will be forgiven for adultery, and will still by grace have an eternity in heaven, I would not be a more “moral” person if I take advantage of that grace – I would be a libertine, and yet still believe in eternal life, and act, by most standards, immorally.
Wow... quite a bit of valuable (interpret that however you like, with respect to the upcoming SPC event) thoughts and argument in the post and comments. Except for the snippet about the Yankees-- I take extreme exception to that comment, but to each his own, with respect to baseball, I suppose.
While there is too much here to touch on everything, here's a few things. I warn you that am am very long in these comments, and might stroll along tangents which grab my attention. Unfortunately, my comments turned out to be too long for the blog, so I'll separate them into two posts.
1. There's an interesting epistemological tension in your post. Let's say that an afterlife exists, but that it necessarily the case that I am unable to know of its existence-- that is, there is no possible way for me to know (that is, I have no justified true belief) that there is anything after death, although it is the case that the afterlife does in fact exist. Let's also assume that I know that it is unknowable whether there exists an afterlife (as you mention in your post). Such a belief would therefore be true, but must be incapable of being justified (if you accept that the three components of knowledge are justification, truth, and belief, seeing as how truth and belief are posited), or else it would not necessarily be unknowable. The possibility of a belief which is true for all people and yet cannot be justified-- its truthfulness cannot be "known" in a strict sense-- is an interesting facet of this struggle, because we (read: I) have a tendency to assume that a belief which cannot be (not merely "has-not been") justified is untrue.
Is it reasonable, then, to think that a belief in the afterlife is unjustifiable? If such a belief is not unjustifiable, if such a belief is true, the only contingency determining whether you "know" of the existence of an afterlife is whether your particular belief about it has been justified. What criteria, then, should you use to determine if your belief in the afterlife is justified?
2. Presumably, a belief in an afterlife does not entail any sort of judgment or reward. Say, for example, that the "afterlife" only meant a sort of reincarnation into another realm with no judgment passed or responsibility carried over from your former life. Such a belief, regardless of whether it is true, seems coherent. If that is the case, I don't think you can really claim that a justified, true belief in an afterlife entails much of anything. Things change if we're talking about the "heaven" subset of afterlives, but it's interesting to consider how the situation is altered by the possibility of afterlives that do not entail judgment or compensation.
3. To get back to your post: ultimately, I am going to have to disagree with a fundamental element: that "all that I do is really all that matters" seems wrong and somewhat dangerous. I think that such a thing is a convenient way for dealing with people we are not familiar with-- for example, I went to a friend's grandfather's funeral recently, and his actions are how I "knew" him and why I paid my respects. However, I offer that true significance actually lies outside the sphere of action. Actions tend to be excellent indicators of what one values in a person, but they are not that which one ought to actually value. It's a tough topic, and probably not one for a simply comment, but here are some examples:
3a. I love my father, and his actions (as well as my own) help to reinforce that love. However, I do not love him for his actions-- I love him for his internal being, his "soul". Let's assume that he had acted in all the ways he has acted before, but did so in order to have a son who would help him get into a good retirement home, not actually because he loved me. While his actions would be the same, his character would be substantively different.
3b. I could be writing this post in good faith, but assume instead that I am writing it to show just how cool I am-- I can write really long comments! Whoohoo! Check it out! And, I use really long words, lile "substantively"! If this were the case, my actions would be the same as they are now, and yet I ought to be "judged" quite differently. You might object that, if I really were just trying to have long comments, you will know me by my fruit and the actions will give it away. I would not disagree-- actions tend to be excellent indicators-- but your objection would nevertheless be against my internal characteristics, not my actions.
3c. If I try my hardest to live a good life and depend upon grace to get into the heaven-afterlife, that seems significantly different than doing bad and depending on grace to get into the heaven-afterlife. While the external grace factor might appear the same, the internal characteristics are uber-different. I propose that any individual who "takes advantage" of a belief in heaven by trying the grace-on-the-deathbed trick has committed a gross misunderstanding; perhaps grace is not contingent upon external choice/earnestness, but rather upon internal choice/earnestness.
And with that, I should probably wrap it up. You began with, "I'm sentenced to death". Perhaps I'm the one who "sentenced" you with this post. At any rate, hopefully you'll survive long enough to make it this far.
Mother Teresa did not "need" God to be Mother Teresa, she merely led a fulfilled, rich and abundant life. She was able to do this because she understood, unlike the author of the original post and some of those who commented, that there is only an empty and hollow existence for those who lead a life that is only for "their own self interest" and "all that I do is really all that matters." The extent of such self absorbed adolescent nonsense is astounding. It's sad to think that there are people who have such an ill conceived notion of who God is, the definition of grace, the source of either morality or immorality, etc., etc. The end result is a clueless person thinking of themselves and other supposedly deep philisophical thinkers as "wise" with no idea of how to ever have any hope of living a fulfilled, meaningful and abundant life.
Its also sad that Anonymous above left this blog post with the sour taste of a religous philistine.
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