Faith

Is “faith” the most misunderstood word in the English language?

There are those who sneeringly refer to faith as all belief that can’t be substantiated by scientific method, or more severely, any beliefs that are held in spite of science. Those who hold this perspective are called “Materialists”. By faith (ironically) they believe there is no truth to be had outside of the material.

But most people are rather attached to some idea of faith. Their faith may be no more than a suspicion, or maybe a hope based on a longing, but they are loathe to let go of that hope and belief. Many have a sense that a passionate, unwavering optimism deserves to be rewarded by God, or by a god, or by the Innate Sympathetic Soul of the Universe. “Faith can move mountains.”

Knowledge is the enemy of faith, we are often told. “There is faith, and there are facts.” Enlightened people of the 21st century do not live by superstition—they live by facts. Ironically, and I suspect, underlined by an active Providence, the 21st century has already earned quite a reputation for “alternate facts”. Disinformation has become ubiquitous. Propaganda and disinformation have always been around, of course, but because so much is being said these days, so much on impulse, without reflection, that an unknowable but significant portion of what is said is sophomoric bilge.

Think of advertisements, to which we are exposed without relief. Advertisements are mostly constructed sentimental associations, and contain little information about the product they ostensibly represent. Think about international political hacking—a favorite activity of our Russian friends—but not an unusual product of American imaginative “Defense” either. News of an African American planting anti-black racist scrawls at the Air Force Academy was an interesting twist. We can’t even be confident in the sincerity racism anymore. (Is there nothing sacred?)

The fact about facts is, the manufacture of facts is normal human behavior. It is second nature for us to adjust reality to our preferences. We cheat at solitaire. Aligning our thoughts and behavior with reality is not nearly as comfortable. We are practiced at reality avoidance.

But even when we commit to integrity and resolve to “follow the facts wherever they may lead,” actually finding facts is not easily accomplished. We can test our facts against a plumb line, but we still have to identify a reliable plumb line. One plumb line is experience. It would be bad judgment to ignore experience but, on the other hand, experience is limited—the vast majority of knowledge by which we function comes from outside our experience as individuals. To a large extent, we trust ourselves to strangers—those who are “supposed” to know what they are talking about. (This is a bit of a crap shoot.)

We can test our knowledge by “bouncing it off” people we trust. This is a valuable process, but there is an inherent danger to it. In practice we tend to be careful with people we don’t know—we don’t talk about controversial subjects with them until we get a good sense for who they are. Once we’re fairly sure the person we’re speaking with agrees with our perspective, then we pour forth our grand and eloquent proclamations. This “miner” approach is useful for keeping the peace, but it’s counter-productive where it comes to actually learning anything. Similarly, we can test our knowledge by accessing independent news sources, but, apparently, we tend to turn to news sources that tell us what we want to hear.

What are these “facts”, then, that people refer to as if they were gods? Do they mean the facts of history? Sure, only that which has happened has happened. However, pick a subject— the origins of democracy; the character of Robert E. Lee; how Manifest Destiny guided the settlement of America; the impact of space exploration; the integrity of Martin Luther King, Jr.; the most influential Beatle—you can read about these events and people from hundreds of sources. But every source will have a different perspective. Every source will include unique details, and most of the sources will have details contradictory to the other sources. History may be something absolute, but the recording of history is more of an estimation, flavored by the interests and biases of the historian. How much do you remember of the history of your own life? Aren’t you the number one expert in the world on the subject of you? How accurate would your autobiography be? Is there such a thing as a historical fact? I believe so (which is to say, I have faith in that). Do we possess any historical facts? Well, if you mean certainty about any particular historical event…then, for the most part, no.

What about scientific facts? Surely we have those, right? See the article, “Science and Truth” for more about this, but the short answer is again, “No”. It takes faith to believe the universe is unchanging and has always behaved the same way. But more fundamentally, science is all about research and discovery. This means that all scientific fact is provisional. Today’s scientific “fact” is revised tomorrow. This is the expectation of scientists. Because of this, scientific “fact” is better understood as the “theory by which we currently operate”. Are there scientific facts? I am inclined to believe so…but that is faith on my part. Whatever the facts of science may be, it is necessary to be omniscient in order to recognize them. So, for humans, there are no scientific facts.

When all is said and done, humans are dependent on faith. We are not smart enough to have facts. And, yet, here we are. We all have chosen our guiding principles. We have put our faith in an ideology. In a world tending toward secularism, that ideology, increasingly, is the “Ideology of Me”.

The Ideology of Me is a shaky conglomerate of experience, trust in experts, trust in family and friends, a cross-checking of all the input, and then topped off with a heavy icing of wishful thinking. We put a great deal of faith in ourselves, even though we know how fickle we are and how limited our scope of knowledge. It’s a conundrum, but who can we trust more than we trust ourselves? We put faith in ourselves because it’s the best option we know.
There are religious people who are inclined to faith. It often seems like they see faith, in itself, as something good. But it is not. There have been religious folk who have been convinced of the return of Christ on a certain day and at a certain time. Some of these people sold their earthly goods and climbed mountaintops in order to get a good view of the big event. They demonstrated their conviction…but they were wrong. Eventually they walked down those mountains, wondering about the disconnect. The disciples of Jim Jones drank the Kool-Aid. Disciples of Mohammed blow themselves up in marketplaces, sure of the goodness of their acts, and of the consequential heavenly reward. Passionate belief can be and frequently is…folly.

Faith is not wishful thinking, even when the wished for outcome is something very good. The quantity of passion, the measure of zeal felt by the believer is irrelevant. The issue is, does faith match reality? The most important element of faith is that the object of faith is worthy of that faith. The faith I put in chairs is (nearly) always rewarded—those chairs hold me up when I sit in them. If my faith in chairs was an expectation they would fly me to Boston, my faith would nearly always be misplaced (unless the chair happened to be inside an airplane headed to Boston).

Faith is trusting that something will come to pass when you have good reason to believe it will come to pass. Faith is well-placed confidence.

Here is an everyday example of faith. Imagine a young child at a public swimming pool. The child has some experience with the water. He has spent time in the wading pool. He’s swallowed water a few times and understands that he can’t breathe under water. He is rightfully afraid of the water, particularly since he cannot swim. His mom has reminded him numerous times to stay away from the pool unless either she or his father is with him.

But now he is standing beside the pool. His dad is standing in the water and coaxing him to jump in. Should he jump in? Why would he do that? The essence of what he is asking himself is, “Can I trust my dad to take care of me in this situation? Does he have something good in mind for me, or is he coaxing me to my death? Even if I trust in his good will, does he have the ability to protect himself and me from the hazards of the water?”

How will the boy know? He doesn’t. All he has to go by is the history between himself and his father. Has is father been arbitrary and cruel? If so, he would be wise to walk away from the water. Has his father been an advocate, a teacher, a protector, someone who has demonstrated sincere care and concern? Has his father shown himself to be physically strong and coordinated? If these things are true, the young boy is thinking, “This is scary, but if my dad says it’s okay, it’s okay.” In he jumps, taking one of those early steps in the adventure and joy of swimming.

This is faith. It is not taking mindless, irrational leaps; it is taking thoughtful, history-based leaps. Our steps into the unknown are taken in consultation with the similar steps we have successfully taken in the past.

People who say they live by the facts are delusional. It never takes much effort to discover where they have placed their faith. They just need to face the facts about their faith.

We all live by faith. To be human is to live by faith. But the key to faith is not our “measure” of it. The key to faith is the object or the system or the being in which we place our faith. Can these be trusted? We have to face the question. We live our lives based on where we place our faith. We bet our lives on where we place our faith.