Infinite Skeptics

An infinite skeptic is a man whose position I do not envy.

I won't delve into specifics, but I really struggled about three weeks ago, when I was placed in a Christian community where I felt that the appearance of righteousness was valued more than a relationship with God. As I'm reading about in Keller's Prodigal God right now, this love of the appearance of righteousness is equally as poisonous to our relationship with God as a sinful lifestyle. Worse yet, it's probably the harder of the two errant lifestyles to be snapped out of.

A rampant sinner recognizes his sin, but someone who counts on saving himself through 'righteousness' thinks they need no other savior. Tim Keller points out provocatively that at the end of the parable of the prodigal son, the wayward son has entered the father's banquet halls, while the older son remains outside (at least at the point that the told story closes). Both disrupt the relationship with the father for material goods. The older son wanted celebrations and a fatted calf, and the younger son wanted his monetary inheritance.

My response to what I saw as a Christianity-sham was to want to run from this 'Everything-that-Rises-Must-Converge'-type Christianity. I found something I didn't like, and I chose to stand aside and point fingers. It's always easier to point fingers and to question than to answer. I started to question for two weeks what God really was doing in most Christian's lives. At some point during this past week, however, I realized that (1) God does act in Christian's lives through his Holy Spirit, but only if we don't opt for this 'older brother' sort of proclaimed self-righteousness and (2) if I continually question everything, I'm going to end up clutching at wisps of vapor as I sink through invisible floors.

In our minds, we build houses and cities and universes out of our beliefs. We start at the foundational level with observations of the world around us, and then start building concepts upon that until we have larger structures that we place on side-streets of cities that host a range of other similar concepts. We connect those cities super highways, and thus make little kingdoms in our minds based on our beliefs about the world. If we choose to begin questioning our beliefs to the point that we start on the path of an infinite skeptic, then our mental structures start to crash to the ground, and we eventually fall with them. It's easier to not believe, but then we become an empty soul. G.K. Chesterton wrote in Orthodoxy 'But the new rebel is a skeptic, and will not entirely trust anything. He has no loyalty; therefore he can never be really a revolutionist.' It's easy to live with no loyalties, but life becomes only about us and our instinctual desires.

How exactly would that sort of a life look like? In About a Boy, Hugh Grant does a pretty good job of showing what that life would look like. The movie opens with his claiming that man is an 'island.' Grant's character soon beings to recognize that his easy loyalty-less life has left him devoid of anything meaningful, 'I'm the guy who's really good at choosing trainers or records, okay? That's it. I can't help you with real things. I can't help you with anything that means anything.' Then at the climax of the film, he's stuck in the position of trying to stop his first real friend from becoming a social outcast in front of the whole school. He does all that he can, but then, as fate would have it, his friend is thrown out to the lions anyways.

Here's where the skeptic is separated from the stalwart. The skeptic would say, 'ah, he's so uncool. I warned him. His loss.' The courageous man says, 'my loyalties lie with him. It's not about consequences, it's about relationship.' Grant steps on stage to join his friend, and becomes part of his suffering.

I've been the skeptic in more than one way. I've stood by to criticize Christianity when I'm chatting about it to my non-Christian friends. I've preferred to do things alone rather than to have to work with someone that I think might 'hold me back.' I've left people hanging because I wanted to do things my way rather than to trust them. These are things I've done to other humans and their institutions. But I have also been a skeptic to God. I struggled near the beginning of this week to stand by my faith during studentlife outreaches. It's easier to distance ourselves from anything awkward about Christianity when we are talking to a skeptic, but if we start breaking down our loyalties simply because we find them uncomfortable, then we end up with a world full of comfort, but no meaning, for meaning is not constrained to the kiddie pool of comfort or pleasure. It is opened in the boundless oceans of frigid, tempestuous waters.

Sarcasm is a fantastic metaphor. I think sarcasm has a great place in community because it fosters an environment where people can let their guards down, and give and take friendly shots at each other in jest. It becomes dangerous, however when people can no longer communicate simple truths with each other. The benefit of sarcasm is that you don't have to commit to a truth. You can say something in a humorous tone and people can take it to mean a number of different things without accepting the spoken words on their literal face value. If we play at sarcasm with our life decisions where we prefer to play around with our purpose and make choices that don't reflect our full heart, than we cheapen the one life that we each were given. Make your choices meaningfully, even when they hurt.