| Thought Map - Dualism
Assumptions lurk at the heart of
every person's understanding of the world in which we live. Christians
are no exception. At a personal level, each of
us during childhood takes on beliefs about ourselves, about the world,
and about other people. These beliefs are, as it were, scripts about how
to live out our lives. We are stuck with them, for better or worse
because they are made at an emotional level long before we mature enough
to think them through. Some personal scripts can
be life-denying. Failure to deal with them can damage or even destroy an
individual. Ideally we should first recognise our scripts, then
understand them, and finally consciously negate those aspects we don't
want. Organisations are similar. They also
have "scripts" passed down from previous generations. These
are interpretations of the world which once matched the organisational
environment well. They eventually become received wisdom taken as fact even though they no longer relate to the environment.
And when
mismatches between received wisdom and the external world become too
great, an
organisation may die. An important feature of both personal and organisational
scripts is that they tend to be beyond awareness. They have to be dug
for. The Church is no exception. One such assumption, buried deeply
beyond awareness, is that everything is
fundamentally polarised. The doctrine of polarisation extends to
almost all aspects of Christian teaching. Christians are on the inside,
while unbelievers, heretics and other religions are on the outside. There is good and evil, God and Satan. There is
Christian wisdom from God, and secular wisdom from human
beings. Right and wrong are polarised into self-contained categories,
black and white with little or no grey between them. Although Christians will recognise these
and many other dichotomies, they will
seldom reflect that buried deep beneath all of them them lies a belief that reality
as a whole is
divided into polar opposites. As L S Rouner puts it:
... dualism is the view that reality is of two distinct and
irreducible kinds ... [1]
As it stands today, very few Christians consider this narrow,
technical sort of dualism important. Nevertheless, the splitting of reality into
distinct polarities extends far beyond technical dualism into many other
dimensions of human experience. Technical dualism may be of little
importance but practical, everyday dualism remains a powerful force. Perhaps
the most pervasive instance of practical dualism in Christianity today is
a perception of the world which
divides the average Christian congregation from the community around it:
"We are in, and they are out". A congregation may run dynamic social programs, and
experience close affinity with non-Christians at neighbourhood level. But
there is nevertheless a deeply-felt assertion by most churchgoers that
they are saved and others are not. That is, they define
themselves as relating to life
in a way to which others have no access unless they also become
Christian. The attitude resolves into a "them and us"
polarisation, one often keenly felt by the excluded. When this dualism is writ
large on the regional or national stage, it becomes a determined
effort to ensure that religion and politics are kept separate. The
Christian pole of social life is there to serve "holy" ends.
The political pole is grounded in the necessary but "dirty"
facts of power broking. Another
pervasive Christian dualism divides reality into the
natural and the supernatural. On one hand are the things we can see and
otherwise experience in life. On the other is an entire reality which we
will experience only after death - or, if we're holy enough, in various
mysterious ways before death. The two realities shade imperceptibly into
each other. Certain people have a gift of inhabiting the
border country between the two. But the two realms or dimensions are
nevertheless distinctly separate. The dualisms above are only a few of
the many which, if we step aside from our preconceptions, underpin much
of the way we relate to the world. Behind them all, however, is one which
subliminally affects the way many
people - not just Christians - think about all the other polarities. It is, in effect,
a type of dual personality. The first is a Sunday personality. It is childlike. It accepts
that it is unable to either ask or answer certain questions about life.
For those it depends upon a superior type of person who is trained
to understand what God has revealed to humanity, and who is in touch with the
deity to a degree unattainable by ordinary people. And even though daily
life presents challenging ethical problems, the Sunday personality relies on
its spiritual parents to pronounce on what's right and wrong. This
personality does not accept the findings of science when they flatly
contradict the teachings of faith, otherwise known as the doctrines of
the Church.. So, for example, when a person
dies, the Sunday personality does not expect that person to rise from the dead.
But when the Bible - backed up by all the machinery of the Church - pronounces that resurrection from death has taken place more
than once, the reversal of death is blindly accepted. Similarly, the
Sunday personality will accept that both Jesus and Peter could walk on
water because the normal laws of physics can, given the right
circumstances, be suspended. But offered an escape route across the
water from a sinking ship, the same person would reject the suggestion
that he or she might walk safely to the shore. The second personality
generally comes alive on weekdays. It usually starts functioning the moment the so-called
"religious" environment is left behind. It accepts
"science" as a way of knowing the world, while usually
acknowledging that many mysteries remain unexplained. God as a real
person to whom one can relate like any other is relegated to the special
domain of the Sunday personality. In daily work, for example, a person must
rely on intelligence, common sense, hard work and luck to get ahead. God
helps those who help themselves. But when crisis or tragedy
strike, the weekday personality may abandon the normal world and switch
over to the Sunday personality, the one who does the praying. Examples
of this deeply hidden dualism could be multiplied over and over again.
It is a dualism which will, I'm certain, always be with us. Such is
human nature. Particularly
when stressed beyond a certain point by uncertainty about life's purpose, people will
tend to polarize whatever dimensions of human experience are most under pressure at
the time. The question arises: Why should the human tendency towards
dualism matter? So what if the ordinary person splits his or her life
into various polarities? The stratagem has been proven genuinely useful. Life goes on much as
usual even though dualism is pervasive. It doesn't seem to be
particularly harmful. There is no quick and easy answer to this
question. The best I
can do here is to indicate the general direction which might indicate
why dualism is increasingly a less-than-adequate response to life. A standard
defence against dualism is to insist that only one or other pole of any
polarity is correct. For example, suggest that God is an unbreakable
unity and you'll be told that God is a trinity. Insist that God has many
aspects, and you'll be warned not to divide the God who is a unity.
Again, you might remark that we should accept that nothing is wrong with
a Church divided into many parts. Disunity is a fact, comes the reply,
but the real Church is an invisible unity. This sort of
polarised response is not confined to Christians. All religions do much
the same. And so do most politicians and philosophers. Politicians make
a living out of policies which are distinctively polarised from those of
the opposition. Philosophers by nature seek solutions which support one
definitive answer over all others. Conflict between polar opposites a
familiar thing in our lives. The all-pervading dualism we're
addressing here arises, in my opinion, out of a natural tendency to
analyse. Analysis is one important way of understanding coping with our
environment. Greek philosophers analysed thought patterns; Christian
theologians analysed doctrine. And now scientists analyse nature. Analysis
identifies parts of a whole. The unity of a physical body is reduced to
its components so that we can work out how the whole operates. We
dismember a novel the better to comprehend its overall intentions. We dissect
the human body to be able to diagnose illness. Similarly, science
reduces the whole to its parts. How does our sun work? Assemble a huge
number of disparate facts, and eventually we'll know roughly how the
sun's nuclear processes operate. That is, break the sun down into its
components if you want to know what it is and to predict how it will
operate in the future. But reducing things to their parts often
results in losing sight of the whole. And when the whole is lost sight
of, the parts can be all the more easily perceived as polarised.
Conflict between poles follows almost inevitably when the overall
connections between them are no longer in the equation. Such damaging
tensions are, says Fritjof Capra,
... an inevitable consequence of the ancient dichotomy between
substance (matter, structure, quantity) and form (pattern, order,
quality) ... [2]
This dichotomy is what I mean here by dualism. It is the ubiquitous
opposition of apparently contrary poles which results from a focus on
the parts at the expense of the whole. Break the human race into its
components and before you can say "Jack Robinson" racial
animosity, that hatred of the different, raises its poisonous head. Take
a business and break into its human parts and very quickly worker will
be pitted against boss, and unions against management. Thus practical
dualism remains almost as pervasive and powerful today as it has always
been. But since the early decades of the 20th century there has been a
gradual switch from the parts to the whole in such a way that the place
of the part in the whole is not lost but enhanced. Fritjof Capra
again:
The properties of the parts are not intrinsic properties, but can
be understood only within the context of the larger whole ...
Ultimately - as quantum physics showed so dramatically - there are no
parts at all. What we call a part is merely a pattern in an
inseparable web of relationships.
Do you want to know how the sun works? Analyse its components - but
at the same time see it as part of a vast solar system. The sun gives
life to all it touches and is part both of the solar system and also of
an even larger galactic system. No part of either system is of enduring
value without every other part. The whole cannot exist without all its
parts. The whole made up of diverse parts, none of which can exist
without being in the whole. What about the human race? It comprises a
vast array of different beings. Racial differences are very often less
important than individual differences. Humanity has meaning both as a
whole and in each of its parts. But even that meaning is of little
account without its context as but one element in a much larger and more
complex system we call the Earth. So dualism has served humanity well.
It has allowed us to understand our world to a degree - but with the
increasingly unfortunate result of polarisation and conflict where there
is no need of either. When the part is made into an absolute, bitter and
often fatal conflict is inevitable - and perhaps even leading to the
destruction of the whole. And when the world around us is set
against itself in a series of polarities, it's but a short step to
setting person against person and all the pain and destruction which
follows.
_________________________________________
[1] A New Dictionary of Christian Theology, SCM
Press, 1983
[2] The Web of Life, Flamingo, 1997
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