A few years ago, a philosophy professor named Philip Goff published a book titled Why? The Purpose of the Universe. Goff intended the book to be an uncomplicated response to the universal question about the meaning of human existence. The book begins with a brief review of some of the more popular answers to that question.
Goff aptly describes organized religion as believing that the universe is infused with meaning by God, and that humans exist to participate in God’s plan for the universe. Atheism, on the other hand, believes that there is no plan for the universe and, consequently, human existence is completely absurd. Rather than reject, or disagree with, the popular theories, Goff makes a case for his own perspective.
Unlike Goff, I disagree with both the popular religious view and the popular atheistic view of the world. The first point on which I disagree is the belief that the universe owes us meaningful lives. Organized religion advertises itself as a provider of ready-made meaning while atheism feels cheated by the lack of pre-packaged meaning in the world. Both views are oversimplifications; neither view is supported by empirical evidence.
The second point about which I disagree with the popular theories is the false image of God that underlies both popular organized religion and popular atheism. Organized religion uses God as an explanation for the confusing experience of encountering both justice and injustice in the world. Atheism blames its non-existent God for the unavoidability of the same experience. Both teleologies ignore the radical discontinuity between the universe and God.
If you’re beginning to feel like you’re drowning in philosophical abstractions, here’s a life buoy: today’s Gospel reading provides practical guidance about how to consider the questions of existence and meaning without tying your brain in knots.
In last Sunday’s Gospel reading, Simon the son of Jonah had a brief flash of insight. He proclaimed to Jesus, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” (Mt 16:16) In response to this proclamation, Jesus gave Simon a new name, Peter, the rock upon which the church would be built. Surprisingly, Simon Peter gains yet another new name in today’s Gospel reading.
After Peter’s proclamation of faith, Jesus began to explain precisely what was entailed in being the Messiah sent by God. Jesus said that he would have to “suffer greatly . . . and be killed.” (Mt 16:21) Peter was so surprised by this revelation that he replied, “God forbid, Lord! No such thing shall ever happen to you.” (Mt 16:22-23) Peter’s stunned response earned him a second new name, Satan, the one who tries to prevail against Jesus’ church. One might wonder who this Simon Peter Satan really was.
Peter’s tragic fall after such a promising start was the result of his failure to grasp the irreconcilable difference between being created and being the creator. Peter rejected the name “created” and coveted the name “creator.” He wanted to control God’s will, how God’s will would be accomplished and, therefore, the fate of the universe. Jesus was not impressed by Peter’s overreaching.
Both contemporary religion and contemporary atheism make the same mistake made by Simon Peter Satan; they conceive of the difference between God and the world as little more than a matter of proportionality in which the universe is mind-bogglingly big and God is mind-bogglingly bigger. Peter wanted to graduate up the hierarchy of existence to take control of the universe; contemporary organized religion tends to think of itself as having attained that distinction already. Contemporary atheism thinks of itself as having been cheated out of the possibility of achieving those higher honors.
Simon the son of Jonah is an ideal example of what happens to human persons in the absence of faith in God and mercy for others; he was given two names because he was torn between two diametrically opposed identities. Like our contemporary society, he didn’t know how to choose between Peter and Satan, between hope and despair.
We are creatures; we are not the Creator. When we forget this distinction, we consign ourselves to endless wandering in a meaningless desert composed of our own selfishness and childishness.
Jesus found perfect satisfaction in bearing the burdens his existence implied; he tried to teach his disciples to do the same. He accepted unjust condemnation that we might learn how to live faithfully and responsibly in a world where justice and injustice intermingle randomly.
Giving meaning to one’s life by giving faithful worship to God and giving mercy to people is much more difficult than falling short or overreaching. Sadly, many choose the easy route into a meaningless desert constructed of their own self-concern. The truth Jesus hoped we would learn from his death is that we control nothing except our own choices, but this limited power is nonetheless sufficient to bring blessedness to our own lives and the lives of others.