raising the standard

Suppose it’s a bit strange that I should be taking aim at such an easy target as the presumably long-dead Muggeridge (well, in fact he droned on until 1990), but since he’s written so much and so publicly about Christianity and the haplessness of a world without it, being obviously keen to share with others his deep convictions and to persuade others of their truth, and since he’s I think representative of a set of attitudes which still prevails in some circles (most notably in the hierarchy of the Church), I think he might be worth dwelling on, but I should pause here for a while and tell folks of my decision to devote this blog largely to the questioning of religious and spiritual belief systems, looking at their underpinnings, at people’s reasons for belief, cultural or individual, rational or irrational, sublime or silly. I want to range from the tensions between science and religion to the psychological needs that may underlie conversion to a religious faith. So I’ll be at times philosophical, at times psychological, and I’ll do my best to be fair to my opponents, but I’m sure I won’t always succeed.

People are wondering why I should bother. Maybe it’s just something to do. Maybe I’ll get over it. Maybe it would be better to focus on the things of this world, the big ethical issues, without worrying about religion, treating it as irrelevant, à la Peter Singer? Tackling religious belief head on is a sure loser, n’est-ce pas? It’s just that it’s the one issue I keep coming back to, that keeps on firing me up, and I think I like having a hopeless ambition, I like fighting for a cause that I know to be right, perhaps even more so when I know it has no chance of winning against the ever-increasing tide of believers out there. This is my crusade, and I see myself as a Don Quixote of a Luigi Funesti-Sordido, setting out to vanquish blind faith without even a companion by my side, throwing myself into the fray, spurning the scorn of the smugly convinced, raising proudly on high the urbane colours of the society for sceptical romantics, hoping they’ll catch the light for a moment and sparkle in someone else’s eye before being ripped down and shredded by the outraged or uproariously indifferent multitude.

It’s probably just all sublimation anyway.

Returning to Muggeridge, since he’s not making any attempt, it seems, in this set of essays, to give a cogent defence of or justification for a set of beliefs which I consider bizarre in the extreme and sorely in need of justification, I’m left with no alternative but to examine the psychology behind his beliefs. It’ll be a partial examination, as I’m not sufficiently interested in, or perhaps too frustrated by and contemptuous of Muggeridge’s worldview to read all the essays in this collection. I’ll try to glean as much as I can from thee first three essays, ‘Jesus rediscovered’, ‘Am I a Christian?’, and ‘Is there a God?’.