April's Blog_Dead Gods Wandering Around Lost in the World of Men

(Part I of a loosely knit series).

I can think of few topics more appropriate to this particular season than Dead and Dying Gods. The season is especially festive for Christians, of course, coming off the long season of Lent, which culminates in Easter, a surfeit of chocolate bunnies and Easter eggs, and the Holy Week, which prepares the way for Whitsun (Pentecost) and the descent of the Dove; but also for Jews because it marks the beginning of Passover, and the life of a people over whom the Shadow of Death has passed. 
            The Christian Whitsun also happens to correspond seasonally to the Pagan festival of Beltane, the Walpurgis Nacht of Faustian fame, which, falling six months after All Hallows Eve, marks the beginning of summer (traditionally early May). 

In this springtide season, then, during which men’s fancy seems to turn away from the dying and the dead, and lightly turn to thoughts of God, the question for our reflection concerns the possibility of verifying authentic religious experience in a period of existential intellectual crisis. The short and honest answer to this question is that, although everyone seems to have an opinion, no one actually knows anything for real. HOWEVER, what I, the Reasoning Man, do absolutely know about the possibility of authentic religious knowledge in an existential period, is that the onus remains on the Magical Man TO DEMONSTRATE to all and sundry that Gods are relevant to human existence, which is to say that they can in fact be experienced.

            Insufficient to this task is any pretend-answer that seeks to pawn off on the philosophically shortsighted some religious ritual, which is nothing but a metaphor for interpreting an in-experience, or a lack of some quantifiable experience. It is necessary for the Magical Man—the religiously minded—to bring to the round-table of thoughtful citizens neither metaphor nor psychology (i.e., some vague notion of “belief” as a precondition of psycho-experience), but rather some real, verifiable human evidence for an experience of the Gods.

            Let me also be quite clear when I say that although my naturally critical nature is fairly indisposed to the more philosophical concept that gives support to the idea of “deity,” I am certainly not opposed philosophically to the possible historical existence of Gods, as are some. So I am sure that any Divine Critters out there will forgive me if I presume to be so intellectually bold as to pose questions concerning Their relevance and/or existence, and concerning how men might acquire knowledge about these things… But then I suppose that Such Enormities as Gods must be big enough to get over my little pissant philosophizing.

            However, if it should in fact turn out that the Gods cannot tolerate the pint-sized musings of thinking humans, Dear Reader, which might actually be the case upon closer reading of the story of the Tower of Babel (Gen. 15), then you best watch out for the bolt of lighting coming your way if you dare to continue reading this post—friendly fire is just as deadly as if the bolt were meant for you! The Index Librorum Prohibitorum was intended for just such as me, whence the name of our Phrontisterion URL: nonimprimatur.

[The following essay is condensed from research (complete with references) entitled, “On the Death of God. Reflections on His Life and Post-mortem Future (2011),” which is archived on our Phrontisterion site. ]

Other prophets of the Death of God… and other Dead and Dying Gods.

Similar to generic dying God stories typical to agrarian cultures, announcements of the death of a God in the western world may also perhaps be seen to follow cycles. A first important announcement occurred in the mid-first century, at sea off the western coast of Greece, with the proclamation that the Great God Pan was dead. Some believe that this moment marked the beginning of the end of the pagan era. The announcement was heard a second time, in the late 19^th century, when Nietzsche’s Zarathustra, returning into the world of men from a self-imposed exile, encounters a holy man in the wood worshipping, says the Heiliger, “the God who is my God”-- a statement that leaves Zarathustra wondering at the fact that this holy man had not heard in his woods that God is dead. Nietzsche mitigates the matter-of-fact flatness of Zarathustra’s wonder by also composing an exalted, quasi-mystical dirge in the now-famous madman story from the Gay Science.

God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him. How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers? … Is not the greatness of this deed too great for us? Must we ourselves not become gods simply to appear worthy of it?

Many have been the assertions that “God is dead,” and sundry the variations on the theme: from the “flight of the Gods,” the “Entflohene Götter”, of Hölderlin, to the contemporary God is Dead movement in America. It seems, however, that there is always hidden within the very language of the assertion, a second proposition: namely, that the Gods, and especially the God that surfaced in the theological traditions of the Christians, once existed. More philosophically oriented than the German romantics and their “Gods,” the high priests of the American Death of God movement offered up the death of the Christian God not by talking about “Him,” but rather, by talking about how humans seem to have transcended the need, interest, or even the possibility, of Him. So what has been at issue in this Death of God tradition, it would seem, is really not (the) Deity, but rather the human (lack of) interest story.

         In the light of the various traditions of God/s in the West, then, and of Their dyings, let us examine a different alternative—let us assume that we moderns do in fact live post mortem Dei christiani. Let us also assume that there are plausible intellectual justifications for why the modern world has moved beyond the Christian faith.

In the Great Conversation, the "death of God" thinkers have laid the theoretical foundations of an idea. For when Plato posited the reality of the Forms to explain how things came into being and (were) moved, it was not long before Aristotle came along to point out that, at the end of the day, the Forms are only a theoretical model with logical issues (e.g., their immovable, yet causative natures), and that a very adequate, persuasive, and almost entirely empirical description of reality could be posited without them. Similarly, I would like to suggest that the modern God-is-Dead propositions and treatments also contain an untenable logical assumption – that the Christian God ever existed.

         The wider evidence of Western history, and not simply the evidence from the history of the Western philosophical tradition, suggests that it is in fact the Christian God, and very specifically The-God-of-the-Bible, who has gone missing. And there is no need of a romantic and exalted post mortem: for the failure of The-God-of-the-Bible, equal to that of His Alter Ego The God of the Christians, is that as a philosophical Fiction derived from debate and consensus, He/They never had any historical reality.

Is the Christian God, the Protagonist of the Bible, really dead? The question is certainly of academic interest to the scholar of religions, and also a challenge for the believer in the fides christiana.

            Evidence clearly shows that The God of the Christians is not The-God-of-the-Bible; rather “It” is a Concept of philosophy—an extraterritorial Deity of Logic born out of the speculations of the earliest Platonized Christian philosophers. It could in fact be argued that Western philosophy already reached its zenith in the first half of the Common Era with the philosophical conception and articulation of this God, whose genealogy can be traced in its evolution from a Hellenistic Abstraktum, to a Supreme philosophico-religious Idea(l). This “God,” conceived very literally out of season, corresponds to the highest ideals of western neo-platonic thought, and bears no comparison, either in actions or character, to the historico-geographical deities of the Hebrew Bible. There is considerable evidence to substantiate this argument.

The-God-of-the-Bible.

Buttressed by archaeology, biblical scholarship has paved a wide road for the articulation of this argument; and much of recent scholarship received its impetus from Albrecht Alt’s groundbreaking 1929 essay on the God of the Fathers, which was so fruitfully furthered by the works of Albright, Gordon, D.N. Freedman, and the Harvard scholar Frank Cross, of Dead Sea Scrolls fame. The Albright “school,” in seeking to identify more fully the various Deities of the Bible in the light of Their ancient Near Eastern origins, has led some to wonder whether the Western Religious narrative has not in fact completely “lost” the Yahweh of the Hebrew Bible in its attempt to articulate a philosophical God. Such is R. Friedman’s recent thesis: that the Hebrew Bible is literally a record of the disappearance of God—that it is the story of a God who has gone into retirement, who, like the Canaanite El a thousand years before him, is become deus quiescens.

            This is a troubling state of affairs for the study of western religions. Indeed, it is potentially a worst-case scenario. For in addition to having perhaps identified the wrong deity as God, western religious scholars now must consider the possibility that the Hebrew Bible may be the narrative record of a God-become-absent from the world of men (deus absconditus).  Indeed, it has always been difficult for the missionary to make a persuasive case for a God who is not present to defend himself publicly—the Baalite priests of I Kings 18 learned from Elijah, much to their detriment, that les [dieux] absents ont toujours tort.

The German Assyriologist Friedrich Delitzsch profiled this argument already in a 1920 volume entitled, The Great Deception, in which he argued that, just like the other olden gods: “the Hebrew national god (Nationalgott) belongs also to the ‘anemic’ ones (elîlîm)—as the Old Testament relishes designating the gods of other peoples—and it is impossible that he should be identified … with the most-powerful GOD.” Delitzsch concludes with this: “Israel is not the people of ‘GOD’, but the people of Jaho, as Moab is the people of Kemosh and Assur the people of the god Asur.” In a similar iteration in the Interpreter’s Bible one reads: “The religion of the fathers was not the same as the worship of the thundering Yahweh of Sinai. The God pictured in Genesis is not like the God who reveals himself to Moses in the book of Exodus.”

End of Part I.