Healing the Schism
As one studies the history of ideas (philosophy, religion, spirituality, practices, ritual, etc) it becomes more and more obvious that something really strange and unfortunate has happened in recorded human history – what I would call a schism.
Consider ancient Eastern and Western philosophies; specifically Taoism, Buddhism, Confucianism, Stoicism, Epicureanism, and other schools of Greek philosophy. It seems that during the Axial Age (roughly 800-200 BCE) people like Socrates, Zeno, Heraclitus, Epicurus, Siddhartha (Buddha), and Lao Tzu were as close to naturalistic as one might imagine for their time. Certainly they had a number of ideas about the world which science later showed to be inaccurate. But - although their work preceded the emergence of a formalized scientific method brought to us by the Enlightenment period later - their approach was largely rational, not faith-based. Socrates would never permit a conversant to tell him they reached their position because they ‘had faith in their heart that it was true’. Socrates would want to know your reasons, what observations you had made that led you to them, and whether the logic of your argument was sound.
And, although their concepts were later adopted by faith-based supernaturalists, they were – at the time – naturalistic theories. The ‘Way’ (Tao) refers to the way of Nature, moving in accord to its own inherent patterns and principles. Anaximander conducted what could be the earliest recorded scientific experiment. Heraclitus keenly observed the complex activity of the natural world. Socrates debates the nature of the soul in material and psychological terms1. The Stoics were materialists who viewed all of existence as one unified whole operating by natural law2. Epicureans saw all things as products of the chance collision of atoms - including even souls and the gods. Yet when we read them speaking of ‘souls’ or ‘God’ today, it is common to envision these terms looking backward in time through a Christianized filter; a reinterpretation of these concepts that would come later.
Despite this largely rational approach and natural integrated view, the tone was a sacred. And, it was not only the Taoists and Buddhists who were spiritual in their approach. The ancient Greek ‘natural philosophers’, for example, were much more like monks than the academics of today. Folks like Socrates sought only to help others become more wise and was sentenced to death for it, Zeno preached Stoicism on the open steps in the marketplace, and Epicurus sought a flourishing life through clear thinking and serenity. Other philosophers took vows of poverty and simple living. These were times when the sacred was seen as existing within and as a part of nature. Even Pythagoras for example, known for his contributions to mathematics, saw mathematics as a gateway to sacred knowledge. His order, the Pythagorean Brotherhood, was as much a religious order as any and – though they had some strange ideas - rationality, observation, and proofs were their sacraments. Most importantly, these practitioners found meaning and value in a self sufficient Nature.
But eventually, in the West especially, a notion of the ‘super’ natural emerged – another unseen realm apart from the natural realm. Plato’s concept of ideal forms is thought to have had some influence in this, but some researchers say the emergence of a dualistic supernatural realm as conceived of today came surprisingly late – developing out of the Hebraic distinction between the Creator and the Created, and inspired perhaps as a response to the question of why Jesus never returned within the generation he claimed he would. Not until the 13th Century does the theology of Thomas Aquinas make the supernatural explicit3. In many ways the origin of supernaturalism doesn’t matter so much as the methodology that supernaturalism encourages – the idea that we can know things apart from (and sometimes in contradiction to) the natural world of experience, observation, and rational assessment.
In any event, once this notion of an unreachable supernatural realm emerged, we divided everything into these two categories. Then we tossed everything of meaning and value and intangible form into that black hole of the immaterial or supernatural. In the mind of the supernaturalist (which became the dominant conception in the West), there was a natural universe that was a shadow – mere puppets of meaningless meat and matter. This world had become mere artifact; its meaning and value dependent entirely upon the intentions of an external Creator rather than inherent. Everything of the sacred, of meaning, and of value was cast beyond this ‘pitiful’ realm into a supernatural one. The natural soul that Socrates and his associates reasoned about became an immaterial ghost dominating a lowly natural body.
This was the schism between the natural and the sacred.
It may seem that much of this has been about large-scale historical or social events, but the schism runs from the top of our cultural history, right down through the hearts of each and every one of us.
In the modern era, now that many are moving away from traditional beliefs, this schism presents a real problem. Today, when people imagine a life or a view of the world without the supernatural, they mentally ‘lop off’ that category that contains all the sacred and meaningful. This leaves behind, in their minds, only the shallow, meaningless husk that supernaturalism has defined as the natural universe.
With such a view comes the tendency to feel like, if we have a physical or scientific explanation for something, that it loses its sacredness, its awe, or its spiritual appeal.
Further, many hard atheists and secularists don’t even realize how the schism has affected the culture or their own perceptions on the sacred. They, having assigned all sense of the sacred to that other category that contains ideas they don’t accept, have also lost the ability to see the magic of the natural world for what it is. When the supernatural was discarded by some of us, so was the traditional source of meaning, value, spirituality, and sacredness.
Now we live in a state where those who don’t have supernatural beliefs are afraid of, or resistant to, using any kind of terminology that might be associated with religions or spirituality of the past, for fear of being thought a faith-based supernaturalist. But this ties our hands in incredibly damaging ways.
Fortunately, as many in traditional religions begin to shift toward naturalistic interpretations and many in the atheistic side start to see the value in many kinds of spiritual practices, what we see happening is a convergence. This coming convergence is happening at the intersection of spiritual and religious naturalism.
Anyone who has had profound experiences in a ritual or extensively engaged in spiritual practices will tell you that language (really our mental ‘framing’) matters. The technical, philosophic, clinical, and scientific language many secular people prefer simply doesn’t cognitively do the job. And, by ‘doing the job’ we don’t mean ‘making us feel good’. We mean the very real and practical job of cultivating character transformation. That is, changing our deep perspectives, value systems, and life experience through engaging all parts of our minds, not just the analytical.
Fortunately, deep knowledge of those systems of thought and practice that existed before the schism show us an example of how the natural, the rational, and the sacred can co-exist – not merely as ‘non-overlapping magisteria’4 – but actually become the very same thing. And here we see another aspect of the convergence happening within.
So, we reclaim our spiritual heritage with our heads held high. We do not put quotation marks around spirituality – we use it for real, as it was originally and properly used. And we engage in myth, ritual, language, and practices unapologetically. Is this religion? The word means too many things to too many people – let each decide for themselves. In the meantime, we will live better. This is how we begin to heal the schism and reunite the natural and the sacred, first within ourselves and then our society.