I will praise the Lord all my life; I will sing praise to my God as long as I live. Psalm 146:2 (NIV)
Wendy and I went to see a wonderful play last night entitled Freud’s Last Session. It is set in the early days of World War II. Sigmund Freud fled Vienna and sought refuge in London. It is 1939 and his death from oral cancer is imminent. The play is a “what if” imagining in which the brilliant psychoanalyst and staunch atheist calls a young Oxford Professor and Christian apologist, C.S. Lewis, to visit him in his London office.
The two intellectuals spar conversationally for an hour and twenty minutes about life, death, God, religion, history, sex, and family. There is precious little agreement but plenty of humorous jabs and flashes of passionate verbal conflict in-between very poignant human moments. The German Blitz and impending war is a present reality in the room as is Freud’s impending death. Their world views are polar opposites and in conflict with one another, yet under the tense debate between proud, brilliant scholars is a respectful curiosity of the opponent, a delight in the conversation and the desire understand.
There is no “winner” or “loser” in the play. Neither man is convinced or converted. In the final minutes through his coughing up blood, Freud makes his declaratory statement that the truth he sees is that “the end [e.g. death] is the end.” Lewis amicably departs his session with Freud, and each audience member is left to weigh the arguments themselves and carry on the conversation.
I woke up this morning thinking about the play, the men, and their respective world views. As I read the psalmist’s lyric above, I thought of Lewis, the story of his conversion, and his personal faith journey which . I have a story like his, and I closely identified with the faith and world view which molded Lewis’ own life journey for another 34 years after the play’s end. I can’t imagine my life apart from my faith. Like the psalmist, like Lewis, it is a faith journey which I will walk to my grave. At the same time, because of my faith I can’t imagine not loving and respecting those who don’t share it. Even those who passionately disagree with me.
For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. Psalm 139:13-16 (NIV)
Wendy, Suzanna and I have been watching the new science fiction show Almost Human this year. While it’s not the greatest television show in the world, it is certainly one of the most unique. The basic premise of the show is that in the future technology will allow us to create human-like androids that can be used as police officers, soldiers, prostitutes, and etc. The android robots are almost human, and scientists in this future world are struggling with how to give these androids a human-like soul and emotions. Previous experiments to do so failed in disastrous ways forcing the extermination of the effort and the androids that were created from it.
Wendy and I have found the theological and spiritual issues/questions underlying the show fascinating. At the heart of it are questions about what it means to be human (and inhuman). Our conversations about the show lead me back to the beginning. They’ve led me back to the oldest, most foundational stories of humanity. Hidden in the temptation of Eden’s forbidden fruit was the desire to become God ourselves and supplant the will of our Creator and our accountability to Him. As our human technology builds Babel-like towards the mysteries of the heavens I see at the pinnacle of our current Tower’s blue-print the desire to wrestle the power of Life and Death away from God and to create and control Life ourselves. Cloning, medicine, cryogenics, robotics, genetics, and countless other areas of study are expanding into these basic, foundational questions about human life.
David’s lyrics in Psalm 139 are both beautiful and absolutely relevant to this conversation. David’s song leads me to ask if God is part of the equation in all of these foundational questions, or if we have successfully eaten the forbidden fruit and have ourselves become god without need or accountability to our Creator. If there is divine purpose in conception, if our days are ordained and the knitting together of the human soul is a mystery beyond human technology to replicate, then will our desire to harness, control and disseminate it like gods have disastrous spiritual consequences? I fear we will find our current technological and scientific pursuits will simply lead us back at the locked gate east of Eden and/or to the rubble of Babel.
These are the questions that have most plagued me with the issue of abortion (Please note: I am asking spiritual questions, NOT making political statements!). Science and technology push further and further into saving one mother’s prematurely born baby while at the same time medical science helps another mother discard an unwanted baby in her womb. In some cases the aborted life in the latter example was at a later stage of development than baby whom science saved in the former example. The common denominators between the two scenarios are the ability of medical science to save life or end it, and the will of the mother to choose which it will be. Setting the fate of the unborn aside, I wonder if we have unwittingly done long term spiritual harm to mothers in whom we’ve placed the power and responsibility to choose life or death.
I am increasingly concerned that science and technology are progressing faster than we can capably wrestle with the spiritual and sociological questions emerging from them. I believe these basic questions and conversations about who we are in relation to God, ourselves, each other, and the world around us are critical. I hear and perceive the sentiments of many who consider God a foolish myth and who place their faith in the limitless capacity and progression of human science and technology. Deep in my spirit, however, my soul echoes David’s lyrics and the notion that God the Creator is still very much involved in the ongoing acts and works of creation. No matter how far human knowledge and ability progresses, I suspect there will always be infinite mysteries “too lofty for me to attain” and I never want to lose sight of that nor disrespect it.
“Let us break their chains,” they cry, “and free ourselves from slavery to God.” Psalm 2:3 (NLT)
I was chatting the other day with an avowed atheist. Raised as a child in the church, my friend was not taught to be an non-believer. At some point, for some reason, they chose out – and struck out on the path of unbelief. I find that fascinating and I look forward to more conversations and hearing more of my friend’s story.
I thought of my friend as I read today’s chapter and came to the verse above. Along the journey I’ve met many people who’ve chosen the path of unbelief. As they share their stories I’ve noticed that their decisions are often as much reaction as they are reason: anger against repressive parents, anger against injustices done by the religious, crisis of faith from a personal tragedy, and etc.
Every one has their story. Every one walks their own journey. Sometimes they choose a path I would not choose. And so, when we cross paths I try simply to walk along side, to listen, and to try and be the best friend I can be. Jesus told me never to judge (that’s His job, and His job alone), and always to love.
