That Annoying Inner Voice



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Hellooo! Anybody there?

That may be what we feel like saying, or may actually say, while praying. Many of us repeatedly return to the question, “Is anybody listening? Is there a God and if so, does he/she care about me and hear me?”

Though non-believers may not be keen on prayer, I think both believers and non-believers ask those questions. I believe neither group likes them, however. Many believers would never acknowledge their doubt, believing that such an acknowledgement might weaken their own or someone else’s faith. Many non-believers may avoid such questions because they like to think they’re beyond them.

I don’t think they are. I think doubt is the companion of most humans – doubt about their abilities, about their own value, the loyalty of others, even doubts about their doubts. I think non-believers have doubts about their agnosticism or atheism. And I think believers must acknowledge their doubts, understanding that if God exists, he/she obviously expects us to live by faith, which doesn’t come with the certitude we may want.

Believers and non-believers, then, have something in common and in one sense may not be as far apart as is portrayed. What they have in common is the search for truth, though some in each group may be a bit cynical about the other side’s sincerity. And if they care about the truth, they will acknowledge other things they have in common, such as the shared need to facilitate the evolution toward being more human.

Being more human may seem like heresy to some Christians. It has become associated with atheism and agnosticism, but I believe that among other things, Jesus was all about being more human. He taught that God is a parent who loves his/her children and who urges the children to love each other. He talked about such things as forgiveness, understanding, hope, honesty, and truth – the “things” that make us most human.

Non-believers have pretty much appropriated the term “humanist,” however. The American Humanist Association describes humanism as “a progressive philosophy of life that, without theism and other supernatural beliefs, affirms our ability and responsibility to lead ethical lives of personal fulfillment that aspire to the greater good of humanity.” Except for the “theism” clause, that description is profoundly Christian.

Some of the heroes of Christianity described themselves as humanists, in fact. They include Erasmus, the Dutch Renaissance priest, social critic, teacher and theologian, and Thomas More, the chancellor of England of the same period who was executed by King Henry VIII. More’s character is featured prominently in the HBO series, The Tudors.

An example of the felt need to separate Christianity from humanism can be found at the on-line site, History Guide. Calling humanism “the predominant social philosophy and intellectual and literary current of the period from 1400 to 1650,” it says the “…the humanist mentality stood at a point midway between medieval supernaturalism and the modern scientific and critical attitude.”

Thomas More
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Today’s scholars like to see Renaissance humanism as the beginning of “modernism,” which includes rejection of the supernatural and religious influences. They draw distinctions between “conservative” humanists, like Erasmus and More, and the later, presumably “real” humanists like Bacon and Rabelais.

It ties in nicely with the view, promoted by some scientists and some religious people, that there is a basic conflict between faith and science. It’s good to remind ourselves that faith and science are simply different ways of knowing. Science seeks the reality that is observable and measurable. But “not all that counts can be counted.” Faith seeks reality that isn’t observable but still believable.

Ron Rolheiser, a priest who teaches theology in San Antonio, recently wrote about C.S. Lewis, who some of you may remember from high school or college literature classes. Lewis, who died in 1963, was an English novelist and poet whom I would describe as a modern-day humanist. Rolheiser recounts Lewis’ conversion at the age of 32 to the Christian faith of his childhood.

“In explaining why he finally became, in his words, ‘the most reluctant convert in the history of Christendom,’ Rolheiser writes that, for years, (Lewis) was able to effectively ignore a voice inside him precisely because it was almost non-existent, almost unfelt, and largely unnoticed. On the other hand, in retrospect, he realized it had always been there, a gentle, incessant nudge, beckoning him to draw from it, something he eventually recognized as a gentle, but unyielding, imperative, a “compulsion” which, if obeyed, leads to liberation,” a byword of Renaissance and modern humanists.

“Why doesn’t God show himself to us more directly and more powerfully so as to make faith easier?” Rolheiser asks. “That’s a fair question for which, partly, there is no fully satisfying answer. But the answer we do have lies in understanding the manner in which God manifests himself in our lives and in our world.

“Unlike most everything else that’s trying to get our attention, God never tries to overwhelm us. God, more than anyone else, respects our freedom. For this reason, God lies everywhere, inside us and around us, almost unfelt, largely unnoticed, and easily ignored, a quiet, gentle nudge; but, if drawn upon, the ultimate stream of love and energy.”