Burnout: the casualties of faith as gaming

Some of you may remember "Sex and Catholic religious culture: Is there a problem?" (Musings, May 28, 2009), in which we discussed Greg Krehbiel's ruminations on the subject.

Now, in "The Cheshire Christ, 2nd edition," Greg Krehbiel traces his itinerary from teenage atheist to Evangelical, through the Reformed and Lutheran churches and eventually into the Catholic Church, only now adding the most recent leg of his journey: from a tentative toe-hold in Catholicism to his most recent port of call: agnosticism. He says some interesting things about his sojourn in the Catholic neck of the woods along the way, before coming to this Sextus Empiricus-like conclusion:

So here I am, stuck with a room full of books, a head full of knowledge and arguments, and the only thing I know for certain is that I’ve missed 25 years of good parties. I’ve seriously wondered if the sole purpose of my life is to be a bad example to others.

I don’t believe, but I don’t disbelieve either, because I find the arguments for the faith and the arguments against faith equally unimpressive. Each side wins a round here and there, but it seems the fight ends in a split decision.

I particularly dislike the misanthropic attitude of the “New Atheists.” They seem to be driven by some sort of insane hatred of faith.

I think faith is a good thing. (Christian faith, anyway, and others to varying degrees.) Sincere believers are happy, healthy, productive, good people. The salt of the earth. I have nothing against them and — even if I thought I could — I wouldn’t want to harm their faith.

Of course the fact that religious belief has such clear and obvious benefits is itself an argument for faith, and that hasn’t escaped me. Nor has it convinced me.

I don’t want to promote religion and I don’t want to attack it. I can see the good and the bad in it. I can see the arguments for and the arguments against, and I don’t see any way forward — or back. I’ve heard the arguments a hundred times, and they bore me.

I continue to attend mass with the family, but I don’t believe a thing. Except that where I am is a very lonely place.

Lonely indeed. Others have been there before him, even Augustine during his brief fling with the "Academics" (Skeptics), after his nine years of "true believer" Manicheism, before his final conversion to Christ. What Greg wants (in the classic sense of "needs") is not another argument (he's tired of those and could articulate them more cogently than you probably could), but a Damascus road encounter with the Person of Christ. As Pascal knew so well, however, such encounters are not simply gifted to everyone who wants them. That battle for each of us, ultimately, is not one of propositional arguments, even though these most assuredly have their necessary place. The battle is fought by each of us in the crucible of his own soul in the little turning points and decisions we make about what we desire, love, fear. Whatever went on in that confessional and in his soul (for good or ill) was probably more significant than any of the arguments Mr. Krehbiel has entertained. As that old Christmas hymn puts it: "The hopes and fears of all the years are met in Thee tonight."

[Hat tip to J.M.]