Religious Inner-Conflict and Finding Personal Identity

Upon reaching a level of auto-cognizance, one meets the questions that have predated cognizant society: “Why are we here? What is our purpose? Who are we? And, what is our place and inheritance?” Through the ages a great deal of minds vaster than mine have provided myriads of answers that bewilder and astonish me. Many point to an innate human subordinance to a higher power as a solution. Indeed, it satisfies most all questions, “We are here to worship, our purpose is to please, we are servants, and our inheritance is that of divine life via works of faith or obedience.” Perhaps to most throughout history, this has been an ample answer, and in these followers of theism, a plethora of complex and vast mythologies and religions and theologies have developed. However, in more recent decades at least, it seems for every theist there is an opposing atheist, and sometimes it seems that the latter even outnumber the former. Everywhere we look social and pop media is proliferated with staunch advocates against the largest faiths. Those of us in western societies seem to idolize and prop up atheists, anti-theists, and agnostics as being more intelligent, sophisticated, and rational than their faithful counterparts, and it seems to me, religious apologetics has become a necessary tool for the survival of the theist intellectual rather than the apostate's. It used to be that faith was the natural state of man, and apostasy was the movement of injured minds - or in more gentle opinions - the thrusting of man’s will and mind against the inalienable truth. What changed? Has society and human reason simply continued on in its purpose? That is to say, it has finally begun to universally eliminate the antiquated philosophy that was indeed once beneficial as we reach more glorious and lofty frontiers in science, technology, ethics, and politics. Perhaps we no longer need our metaphorical north star (for we now know it is not a god, but just that, a star). Perhaps we’ve reached an adequate level of enlightenment, and are no longer in need of a moral sherpa. Well, this doesn’t seem to be the case, as with one flip to the news channel reveals the perversion of law and ethical morality by these very same celebrities and aristocrats we so highly praise. Or, conversely society has had its heart hardened by the urbanization and industrialization of mankind, perhaps we are no longer vulnerable to divine truth and that is at no fault of anyone but our own. But of course, this too isn’t evident upon inspection of these metropolises. Our cities are no longer built on the backs of slaves, we work towards equality – or equity, we haven’t quite seemed to have worked that one out – literacy and freedom of thought is at an all-time high whereas poverty and infant mortality is at an all-time low. Where is the reconciliation? Does it make a difference in our lives if we have belief or not?

I don’t aim to solve any of these problems concerning the nature of our existence, or the nature of existence itself, and similarly I do not claim to have some new revelation, or even to be asking new questions. In fact, if you are looking for answers, you have come to the wrong place. Simply, I am looking to put out my thoughts and questions, and hopefully, I will have the privilege to hear the voices of the world, and particularly, of those who disagree with my current presuppositions.

To start, a little about myself. The past few days, I have been plagued with one simple question that I’ve never really given much credence to: “Who am I, personally?” Really, who is it that I say I am? And, I don’t mean this in a trivial sense; I know my name, I know my nature – that is a human – and I know my goals and aspirations in life, but instead, I mean to ask, what are my spiritual qualities, who would my children say I am 100 years from now, and what would be written down about me in a history textbook. If I were to ask my father, he would say, “Owen, you are a teacher, you are one who loves to learn and spread information.” And it would bring me much pleasure to hear him say this. I think that is certainly a part of the puzzle. I do love learning, as I earlier mentioned, and I do love sharing that which I have learned with those I care about. Yet, this doesn’t seem to satisfy me. If I were to instead ask my closest friends, they might say, “You are a generous man who loves to listen.” Well, that doesn’t seem to do it either. My roommate and my peers might say, “You are quiet and shy, and I really can’t say much on you.” And those who don’t care to flatter me would say, “You are one who loves control and authority, and are overpowers conversations.” All of these things I’ve heard and all I agree with, but yet, I still feel like I’ve only uncovered a thin layer of dust on an ancient archeological temple site. After contemplating these things, I allowed my own thoughts to speak. The first thing I turned to was my faith. What is my faith identity? And what do I believe? “Well,” I thought, “that’s easy. I am an Eastern Orthodox Christian.” But I further contemplated and decided, well, that’s not entirely true. And I now come to my first point and issue on the topic of faith. How reliable is mankind in regards to the communication and preservation of divine revelation, and how involved is God in the protection of his own word? The Orthodox perspective seems to spend a whole of five minutes on the topic, and then proceeds onwards to more theological pursuits, and that perspective is that divine revelation is very well protected and very well kept in the avenue of Holy Tradition. Orthodoxy teaches that the scriptures as written in the Septuagint and compiled in the Council of Carthage are inerrant and that further theology and doctrine can be accurately and divinely deciphered through the congregation and interpretation of church leaders in synods, where votes are cast on theological issues. It does not claim the inerrancy of individual participants, or even the ultimatum as a whole, but that the Holy Spirit will correct the false teachings of the church over time. The religious brain in me loves this concept, and has full trust in it. And yet, I recognize its logical and objective shortcomings. Most obviously, the circular justification of it all, that is, the councils justify themselves through scriptures which are justified through councils. This fact alone is what initially brought me from Protestantism to Orthodoxy, as it seems to bring me closer to the naked singularity at the center of having divinely inspired and inerrant scripture. Furthermore, there seem to be irreconcilable truths between these councils and scriptures. For instance, Orthodoxy has long established the perpetual virginity of the St. Mary, and yet Matthew 1:24-25 clearly states, “When Joseph woke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took his wife, but knew her not until she had borne a son; and he called his name Jesus.” Further, it seems that Jesus had siblings, and they are even named in the gospels. And I’ve heard plausible explanations. My own priest has claimed that these siblings are possibly step-siblings, from Joseph’s previous marriage. Maybe. And that Joseph “knew her not until…” is more implicative of him never knowing Mary, and must be read with extra context that can be found in the complex tenses and moods and inflections and what not of the Koine Greek it was written in. I suppose this could be so, but still, it seems to be a stretch, and my mind rests easier deploying Occam’s Razor: that the biblical authors and translators wrote as is, that Joseph waited until the birth of Christ before begetting the other named siblings of Jesus. But if I reject the inerrancy of synodal Holy Tradition, then how does scripture stand by its own merit? Well, it seems to me that perhaps it is given more credit than it deserves. Modern science seems to be in direct conflict with the very first texts in our modern canon. Notably, Genesis 1:12, “The earth brought forth vegetation, plants yielding seed according to their own kinds, and trees bearing fruit in which is their seed, each according to its kind. And God saw that it was good.” Which in the seemingly chronological account of creation, is then followed by verse 14, “And God made the two great lights, the greater light to rule the day, and the lesser light to rule the night; he made the stars also.” So, it is apparent to me that either God created a form of land-based plantation that did not need sunlight to survive, or God forgot this minute detail of his creation account when dictating it to Moses. Perhaps the exact details are not what matters, but instead the message of what is being conveyed is that simply God creates and created. But this leaves me deeply unsatisfied. How did God benefit his people by misinforming them. Surely, had he given an accurate account of what happened it would have the same effect? And almost certainly had God truly given Moses scientific knowledge of creation thousands of years before humans truly began to understand time’s first moments it would only serve to strengthen the believer’s claim to divine revelation. How odd. Perhaps there is a third, more sinister and controversial option. Perhaps the bible isn’t quite as inerrant as I was led to believe. And now that I know that plain empirical observation and scripture’s first words are incompatible, what now do I stand on? How am I to decipher between what is true and what is false when it comes to God?

Despite these objections, still I remain an Orthodox Christian. Albeit, an Orthodox Christian who softly rejects certain doctrine, and does not trust the inerrancy of scripture, nor that the church will always produce correct dogma, so now I am left wondering, how much of an Orthodox Christian am I? I seem to be stuck between a rock and a myriad of hard places as a god-fearing man. It seems to me that this hole in my identity cannot be made whole through my doctrinal faith; it cannot be determined through my attempts to salvation.

Despite my objections, I remain a son, I remain a friend, I remain Orthodox, for what is faith without good doubt. It seems to me that I have two features: a mind and a heart. My mind reasons all day and night and it works to protect me from danger and heresy, but my heart still calls out to the Lord. What does this mean? Is this wrong? Even still I stand without an identity that I can point to and definitely say, this is me, this is my whole, or this is my majority. I think identity has no truth and no meaning and religion may not serve as a substance of identity. For what effect does my identity have on my past. And how firm is its grip on the future if it truly is subject to my own free will in the present. But maybe the topic of free will