(We actually have a lot of threads on these sorts of topics, so I don't want belabor this for too long.) — Leontiskos

Fair enough. Let's get this Thread back on track, then. I find it odd that Christian philosophers only offer arguments for the conclusion that God exists, while not offering any arguments for the conclusion that Jesus is God. Why would you resort to logic in the former case but not the latter? Is there any reason that warrants this differential treatment?

- When you say "arguments" you presumably mean formal arguments, and on that reading the answer is that historical arguments are more difficult to formalize. I don't find arguments for Jesus' divinity to be at all lacking. In fact I see them more often, probably because it is usually admitted that Jesus is a historical figure, and because the question of whether Jesus claimed to be God usually precedes the question of whether God exists. This is because, if Jesus claimed to be God, then the atheist has a new case to consider, whereas if he did not claim to be God, then everyone is off the hook. And given the Christological theology that has become popular especially since Barth, leading with Jesus has become very common. This is particularly true in a secular age which is more opposed to traditional notions of God.

(Here is an example of just such an article published today.)

If I investigate textbooks which academic departments use to teach science -- there is absolutely nothing in there about Jesus or God.

Indeed, but there also likely won't be any reference to the date the Declaration of Independence was signed, who the victors of the World Wars were, or who the Roman Emperors were. Nor in any scientific journal will you find a peer reviewed double blind trial that confirms that Napoleon won the Battle of Austerlitz, or that he and Hannibal crossed the Alps, nor information about who won the last World Series or who the current mayor of New York is, etc.

Hence, "scientific justification" of that sort has some pretty severe limits. We have good reason to be much more confident in who won the World Series than most of what is published in scientific journals as well.

People do make arguments based on the natural sciences for the existence of God though, teleological arguments, etc.

Does it matter if Jesus claimed that he was God? My contention is that he could be God even if he never claimed such a thing.

Does it matter if Jesus claimed that he was God? My contention is that he could be God even if he never claimed such a thing. — Arcane Sandwich

It is logically possible, but it doesn't surprise me that no one goes around arguing that Jesus was God even though he never claimed to be God. Basically, if Jesus and the documentary evidence we now possess are not self-consciously presenting evidence for Jesus' divinity, then the whole point is moot. If that is not in place then one could as easily claim that Benjamin Franklin was the Son of God as Jesus.

Hence, "scientific justification" of that sort has some pretty severe limits. — Count Timothy von Icarus

Yup!

I feel the need to say that one of the distinctions I keep coming back to is the difference between science and history, even at the academic level, for a basis of judging knowledge (and noticing it's hard to unify it all in some kind of conceptual structure)

People do make arguments based on the natural sciences for the existence of God though, teleological arguments, etc. — Count Timothy von Icarus

Also yup!

Still... seems odd to infer from God's existence that God is such and such, yes?

EDIT: Also goes to show my skepticism credentials -- I don't question God on the basis of Science, I question Inferences about God on the Basis of a Skepticism of Science as the Truth of a Propaedeutic of Metaphysics. lol

Capital letters to make fun of myself for how many distinctions I feel the need to make.

Basically, if Jesus and the documentary evidence we now possess are not self-consciously presenting evidence for Jesus' divinity, then the whole point is moot. If that is not in place then one could as easily claim that Benjamin Franklin was the Son of God as Jesus. — Leontiskos

Columbus died thinking he had landed in Asia (India, specifically). But he still arrived at the New World, even though he never claimed such a thing. If one claimed that Benjamin Franklin is the Son of God, that wouldn't make that statement true, just as saying that Columbus reached Asia wouldn't make that statement true either.

Is Jesus God? — Arcane Sandwich

First of all, there cannot be God, for a mind/brain in a system and that is composite, and in this case, very complex, which thus cannot be Fundamental and First, making the question of the Divinity of Jesus to be moot,

Secondly, to sink into the blah, blah, blah, about it, the nations around at the time didn't go for it and still don't, like the Greek Orthodox and the Jewish, even though he was one of their own, at least until he converted to Christianity (ha, ha), and of course the Romans crucified him.

The issue of difference which I see between your approach and mine is that you are trying to formulate arguments on the basis of logical propositions. In contrast, I am trying to understand the philosophy of religion by viewing it in the cultural and historical context in which it developed. They are such different perspective and I do not dismiss the validity of looking at logical propositions but, equally, the hermeneutics underlying the philosophy of religion have a critical role in consideration of concepts.

Interesting comments, but I'm going to have to ask you both if you have a horse in this race, otherwise it seems (per some folks' deluded opinions) that you can't philosophize about religion. Source: The Boy Scouts. Secondary source: Trust Me Bro. — Arcane Sandwich

I'm not sure what you mean. Horse in what race? The idea of using logic to establish some kind of "fact" about a mythological character (Jesus) and an incoherent notion (God) about which there is no agreement seems odd. Setting the reasoning aside, I generally hold that belief in god is similar to sexual orientation - you can't help what you are attracted to. The arguments are likely to be post hoc justifications. I find the arguments of incidental interest. I'm simply incapable of believing in god - the idea is confused, at best ineffable and doesn't assist me in my approach to sense making, so it's of no use to me. :wink:

:up: I think I'm mostly in agreement with your last post. I probably wouldn't go as far as to say god is false as far as science is concerned, but I would agree that the idea is undemonstrated and therefore of no real use except as a form of poetry. But given many people spend a lot of time living emotionally and aesthetically, it is easy to see how god might be of use to them.

What do you think of the uses of logic? Aside from finding it boring, I see it as a rather blunt tool - capable of demonstrating almost anything, regardless of whether it aligns with reality. :razz: Just because something appears to be logically necessary within a system of ideas doesn't mean it exists in the world. For example, we can define a perfect unicorn, but this doesn't mean such an beast must exist.

Sounds fair to me :up:

I'm not sure what you mean. Horse in what race? — Tom Storm

It's a joking reference to .

For example, we can define a perfect unicorn, but this doesn't mean such an beast must exist. — Tom Storm

True, but I think there's a difference between God and the perfect unicorn, because some people have religious experiences (mystics, for example) while no one has had a religious experience involving unicorns, perfect as they may otherwise be. Not to my knowledge, at least.

Ok :up:

But given many people spend a lot of time living emotionally and aesthetically, it is easy to see how god might be of use to them. — Tom Storm

Definitely. So I ought tone down my assertion that science says they're all false -- the sciences which have true things to say about religion are sociology and psychology.

What do you think of the uses of logic? — Tom Storm

I like to use logic when I feel the need for something clear and explicit. Sometimes, even in philosophy of religion, that's necessary to do.

I don't think anyone believes religious things due to the arguments, though. Like you said, and I think it's a good analogy, religious beliefs are more like a sexual orientation than an attitude towards a particular proposition "God exists" or "Jesus is God"; we have less choice over it than is often presumed by rationalist discussions on religion.

I'm all for rationalism, but I think the philosophy of religion is a good place to begin showing its limits. Not-pejorative -- I hold poetry in the highest regard, and so I hold religion. Religion, and its texts, expresses something deep about human beings.

Even though I'm an atheist I believe that Mystics have visited God, for instance.

True, but I think there's a difference between God and the perfect unicorn, because some people have religious experiences (mystics, for example) while no one has had a religious experience involving unicorns, perfect as they may otherwise be. Not to my knowledge, at least. — Arcane Sandwich

Religious practice develops its own kind of knowledge is what I tend to think. The logic within can be important, but oftentimes it's not.

But, as a philosophy nerd, I like to clarify things and see where they go -- and where they don't go -- so I am pro-logic, even if it's often misused.

Even though I'm an atheist I believe that Mystics have visited God, for instance. — Moliere

This piqued my curiosity. Can you please elaborate? How can mystics visit God if, by atheist lights, God doesn't exist?

This piqued my curiosity. Can you please elaborate? How can mystics visit God if, by atheist lights, God doesn't exist? — Arcane Sandwich

The "how" I'm not sure on. It's part of why I'm uncertain about all the other things we've been talking about :D

They claim something that's meaningful to them. Insofar that there is an object "God" as they describe it with various predicates I don't really think it's there. But I do believe the words mean something, and that my belief that they are false isn't really that important after all. And I believe that words mean, and they are sincere, so there's something there, like you said here:

True, but I think there's a difference between God and the perfect unicorn, because some people have religious experiences (mystics, for example) while no one has had a religious experience involving unicorns, perfect as they may otherwise be. Not to my knowledge, at least. — Arcane Sandwich

Even if someone did have a mystical experience with unicorns -- which really might not be that unlikely, now that I think on it, just embarrassing so people wouldn't say it -- I think I'd put it in the same box as other religious experiences.

But we could come up with another example to demonstrate the point that we can say true things about what we name which are still fictional and thereby not persuasive when we're talking about attributing existence to things.

The mystics, however, really do attribute existence to things which others do not because of their experience. Given my fixation on empirical justification for existential claims it throws a wrench into my thinking which I have to accommodate.

I still think what I think, but I think the mystics make sincere claims that are pretty much on par with saying "The cat is on the mat".

Insofar that there is an object "God" as they describe it with various predicates I don't really think it's there. — Moliere

Why not?

But I do believe the words mean something, and that my belief that they are false isn't really that important after all. And I believe that words mean, and they are sincere, so there's something there, like you said here — Moliere

What would that "something" be, if not God?

Even if someone did have a mystical experience with unicorns -- which really might not be that unlikely, now that I think on it, just embarrassing so people wouldn't say it -- I think I'd put it in the same box as other religious experiences. — Moliere

Yes, so would I.

But we could come up with another example to demonstrate the point that we can say true things about what we name which are still fictional and thereby not persuasive when we're talking about attributing existence to things. — Moliere

I'm not quite sure I understood this part. Could you explain it to me, in a simpler way?

The mystics, however, really do attribute existence to things which others do not because of their experience. Given my fixation on empirical justification for existential claims it throws a wrench into my thinking which I have to accommodate.

I still think what I think, but I think the mystics make sincere claims that are pretty much on par with saying "The cat is on the mat". — Moliere

Yes, they are making sincere claims. They really do have those experiences. So what would we make of that? If religious experiences are literally experiences, the least we could say is that something is going on inside the brains of those who have those experiences. When I look at my kitchen table, I'm having an experience. A visual experience, to be more precise. Something is going on in my brain while I'm looking at my kitchen table. But there is an external correlate in this case: the kitchen table itself. Do religious experiences have an external correlate?

And I'll add something that may surprise : I've actually had religious experiences. Under the use of psychedelic drugs (LSD, in particular), and to a lesser degree, under the use of marijuana. They weren't Christian experiences, though (despite the fact that I went to a Catholic school for a few years when I was young).

What did I experience? It's hard to say. First of all, in keeping with the distinction between ordinary objects and extraordinary objects (which is something that I picked up from the metaphysics of ordinary objects), I'd say that these were not ordinary experiences. They were literally extra-ordinary experiences, philosophically speaking.

So what were they like? Again, it's difficult to pinpoint. They (the experiences) begin as a sort of depersonalization. You feel like you're no longer an individual, somehow you feel like you've been "fused" with the Universe, in some sense. You get up and walk towards the refrigerator, you open it to find some food, but it's like you're doing this in a very primal, or primitive, or animalistic way. It's like you're a part of Nature and you know it, your "human" part is gone, you're just an animal now. And then you feel some sort of "presence". If I had to call it something, I'd call her Gaia.

At some point, the drugs wear off, and you're back to your ordinary life, with ordinary experiences. Now you have to make sense of what you just experienced a few hours ago. The only rational, scientific conclusion here, is that the drugs simply altered my brain's chemistry. Gaia doesn't exist. I simply imagined it, because I was under the influence of psychoactive drugs.

I've never tried ayahuasca or DMT, and the reason is simple: I honestly don't think that I could come back from that trip. The reports sound far too intense, and I don't think that I have the mental strength to cope with it. I'd probably never be able to return to an ordinary life, with ordinary experiences, if I took something that potent.

Good to know! I too had astounding experiences with lysergines, when it was still legal, which says something (I am after all a baby boomer). As you say, impossible to really describe, and even to remember, in some ways. Although one vivid memory that stays with me was seeing something like 'the great perfection' - this sudden realisation of the overwhelming beauty of all nature, one morning at dawn, looking at a young sapling growing from the crevice in a moss-covoured rock. Along with the realisation that we're generally dead to that beauty because of the weight of habituation (gee, I said that well).

At some point, the drugs wear off, and you're back to your ordinary life, with ordinary experiences. — Arcane Sandwich

Buddhist meditation teacher, Jack Kornfield, wrote a book called After the Esctacy, the Laundry, which is exactly about this point (although not specifically related to hallucinogens).

I'm sure that hallucinogens do provide a window to a higher or alternative reality - once you've seen it, you can't deny it. But integrating that insight or vision with daily life is a very different matter. Part of those insights have stayed with me, but there's a lot of it buried under...well, I've already said that.

I know a current Zen master, an American roshi called Meido Moore. He often emphasises that with some training and diligent application, an initial satori is not that uncommon. But what's really hard, is stablising that insight and actually living from it day in, day out. I guess that's why Zen training is so legendarily rigorous.

Why not? — Arcane Sandwich

No reason, exactly. Just a cause.

To differentiate the two -- I'd give you a reason if I thought maybe it'd be important to your thinking, but I'm saying that there's merely a historical cause for the belief.

Nothing rational here, just a report. I believe the mystics -- and given my weird positions that means I have to understand what it is they are referring to -- but I don't know how to get there.

I'm not quite sure I understood this part. Could you explain it to me, in a simpler way? — Arcane Sandwich

You're gracious for saying "simpler" when I'm just garbling along the best I can :)

I only meant that if someone were to come to this thread and claim something similar to Anselm, but with unicorns, I'd be able to come up with another example they haven't thought about which attributes perfection to the new named thing (which is also a fiction, to my mind)

What would that "something" be, if not God? — Arcane Sandwich

The atheist is forced to say "well... not-God, at least"

But that "not-God" is pretty ambiguous. The atheist and the spiritual seeker can understand one another in saying "not-God" because they've tried to make sense of it but couldn't, or at least didn't find some kind of conditions which were persuasive.

If forced I'd put it back onto poetry and literature. I read the Bible because it's ancient literature which reveals things about human beings, but as an atheist, I don't really even care if it's true or false.

When the mystics talk about seeing God I'm a little jealous, but I know that it's not for me because I can have spiritual reveries without all the structure. I only need to go for a walk and see things in the right way -- a poetic way -- and it's the same experiences I had when I was in church.

So my skepticism on mystics is somewhat based in experience, though not science -- the world is amazing if you let yourself look at it and stop caring about this and that.

Yes, they are making sincere claims. They really do have those experiences. So what would we make of that? If religious experiences are literally experiences, the least we could say is that something is going on inside the brains of those who have those experiences. When I look at my kitchen table, I'm having an experience. A visual experience, to be more precise. Something is going on in my brain while I'm looking at my kitchen table. But there is an external correlate in this case: the kitchen table itself. Do religious experiences have an external correlate? — Arcane Sandwich

If forced I'd prefer to drop the distinction between external/internal, but that's not easy to do.

I don't like to reduce experience to the brain, naturalist or otherwise, but it might take us too far astray. I just wanted to note that.

I think, even as atheist materialists, we can say that people are experiencing things. There can be "physical" correlates to that -- starvation, LSD, etc. -- which are frequently part of the mystical literature. But I'm hesitant to say it's just something going on in the brain -- that's not what is being claimed. It's not what they are saying means -- and I suppose I believe meaning is much wider than true/false, or even truth-aptness.

As you say, impossible to really describe, and even to remember, in some ways. Although one vivid memory that stays with me was seeing something like 'the great perfection' - this sudden realisation of the overwhelming beauty of all nature, one morning at dawn, looking at a young sapling growing from the crevice in a moss-covoured rock. Along with the realisation that we're generally dead to that beauty because of the weight of habituation — Wayfarer

Would you believe me if I told you that I more or less know what you're talking about here, and that I've had a similar experience? Especially in relation to this part:

seeing something like 'the great perfection' — Wayfarer

I've seen it myself. And I would even use those same words, more or less. I've experienced it as such. But I should emphasize once again that this isn't an ordinary experience, it's an exceedingly rare one, and I've only had it under very specific conditions. It's not like I can see 'the great perfection', as you have called it, when I'm doing my taxes or when I'm at the supermarket.

But I'm hesitant to say it's just something going on in the brain -- that's not what is being claimed. — Moliere

True, it's not what's being claimed, but is that the only (or the main) reason why you're hesitant to say that it's just something going on in the brain?

True, it's not what's being claimed, but is that the only (or the main) reason why you're hesitant to say that it's just something going on in the brain? — Arcane Sandwich

First thing that pops to mind is the problem of consciousness and the problem of other minds: brains all by themselves are as dumb as a pile of guts.

In terms of the mystic it's sort of undermining to attribute their philosophical or religious belief to a brain-event. If I were to utilize that same reasoning I'd have to be consistent and note that my own belief is also the result of my brain-events, and furthermore, since our brains are different, I would have to conclude that their brain-events are not like my brain-events, and therefore, I would have no real way to disbelieve the mystic.

Since all of our brains are different we all live in our own worlds and the mystics claim is probably true in his world, though not in mine.

But I really don't believe we are in our brain or our experiences are in the brain like that. I think we have a shared world, and the mystic saw a different part of it than I did. Which part of the world we seek out depends much on what we want in the first place -- if we're building a bridge we want predictable repetition to hold it sturdy.

But if we're seeking meaning in life then visiting God probably is a bit better at that.

I just don't really think these experiences secure scientific justification. There's no science which will tell us which mystic is right -- and while there is some overlap in their feelings when it comes to more concrete claims and descriptions there's a lot of divergence too. Sometimes people come away from mystical experience with a deeper appreciation for life, and some people prefer that there's a strict list of rules by which to judge oneself and others and so seek out the mystical experience, and some people are just born poets and so don't have to jump through all those hoops to appreciate the beauty of the world.

But for all of these people the sciences will remain relatively invariant. They'll have different takes or develop things in different directions and find different flaws because of that, but the justifications there demand more intersubjective agreement than what the mystics provide.

Which is kind of a naturalized, bastardized Kant -- there may be mystical knowledge which helps us live pragmatic lives, but it won't be a proper scientific knowledge.

Since all of our brains are different — Moliere

Are they really that different? Granted, they're not identical, as in, you and I don't have the same brain. But they're quite similar. They're human brains, aren't they? Your brain has a temporal lobe, my brain has a temporal lobe. Your brain has two hemispheres (left and right), my brain has two hemispheres (left and right). Your brain has a pineal gland, my brain has a pineal gland. And so forth.

I think we have a shared world — Moliere

Sure. And perhaps the similarities of our brains are, in part, responsible for that shared world. That's another way to think about it. We both speak English, but we also have similar brains, at least anatomically, and I'd argue that their neurochemistry is similar as well.

There's no science which will tell us which mystic is right — Moliere

Maybe Reality (with a capital "R") is like a multi-faceted crystal, such that each mystic perceives one facet at a time. It's not that one of them is right and the other one is wrong, maybe each of them perceives just a small part of what (and I) call "the great perfection".

But for all of these people the sciences will remain relatively invariant. — Moliere

Notice that there's also something else that seems to remain invariant: religious experiences seem to be distributed worldwide. There are tribes in the Amazon rainforest that have never had any contact with tribes in West Africa. Yet both tribes have their own religions, with their corresponding religious experiences. And we could also mention native Australian tribes, which have never had any contact with the Amazonian or the African tribes. And they have religious experiences as well. How is that even possible? What is the explanation for this phenomenon? Is it just a coincidence?

Are they really that different? — Arcane Sandwich

At the level of function they're not -- but conscious experience has no function, as far as I can tell. There is no point to it.

But mostly I'm meaning that as a reductio that what we are is our brain since we do experience a similar world and are even able to determine that our brains are similar.

Sure. And perhaps the similarities of our brains are, in part, responsible for that shared world. That's another way to think about it. We both speak English, but we also have similar brains, at least anatomically, and I'd argue that their neurochemistry is similar as well. — Arcane Sandwich

It's possible, but I don't think it's true. I think it takes much more than a brain -- a body, a community, and language all seem to be a part of conscious experience to me.

Maybe Reality (with a capital "R") is like a multi-faceted crystal, such that each mystic perceives one facet at a time. It's not that one of them is right and the other one is wrong, maybe each of them perceives just a small part of what ↪Wayfarer (and I) call "the great perfection". — Arcane Sandwich

That's basically what I think, but not crystalline.

But I can tell that the mystic means something different than this -- by visiting God they are taken away from this world, this world is somehow lesser, or the divine is somehow greater.

Whereas for me, while I believe the mystic I don't think that the mystic has scientific knowledge, and going back to the "if forced to choose" thing I simply don't believe that such experiences are anything more than a deeply human need that not everyone has.

Basically I think about it in terms of psychology and anthropology rather than what the mystic often means. I can tell that we don't believe the same thing because even if I had the experience I would be skeptical of God's existence -- mystical experience may satisfy the need for meaning, but it does not provide a basis for scientific discovery.

Notice that there's also something else that seems to remain invariant: religious experiences seem to be distributed worldwide. There are tribes in the Amazon rainforest that have never had any contact with tribes in West Africa. Yet both tribes have their own religions, with their corresponding religious experiences. And we could also mention native Australian tribes, which have never had any contact with the Amazonian or the African tribes. And they have religious experiences as well. How is that even possible? What is the explanation for this phenomenon? Is it just a coincidence? — Arcane Sandwich

I tie it to language -- with the ability to know comes the ability to crave more than the animals. We can conceive of things which are impossible to satisfy. We have fears which cannot be assuaged. In a way the acquisition of language, looked at metaphorically, is The Fall as portrayed in the Bible. Before the ape lived an animal life, and after new desires were born.

Insatiable desires are what religion seeks to satisfy.

But this is very "Anthropologist sitting in a chair looking back" wondering -- it's not something I really believe I know an explanation for. It's part of why these arguments are interesting to me; but at the end of the day I know I'm more like an anthropologist of religion than a true believer. (I just don't claim that this is based on rationality) -- and I definitely think that science has nothing to say on the matter, for or against. The psychology or anthropology of religion just isn't treating the phenomena the same as the mystic is.

The thing with religious experiences (speaking only from my own personal experiences) is that they sort of impose themselves upon you, whether you're an atheist or not. Granted, I've only had them under the influence of psychoactive drugs. But it's not like my state of mind was "alright, I'm going to choose to experience the world from a religious perspective", instead you just sort of "have" the experience, in the same way that you just sort of "have" a visual experience whenever you look at an object, such as your kitchen table, for example.

I have an anthropological theory (an untested theory, which could of course turn out to be false) about this. My theory is that religious experiences are somehow rooted in the anatomy and neurochemistry of our brains. Specifically, in the most "primitive" parts, the parts that we have in common with non-human vertebrates, such as other mammals, and some species of birds. My wager is that those animals tend to live in a sort of zen-like state, more or less as described by . Why are we not like them, in our ordinary lives? Precisely because of the more "human" parts of our brains. The humanized parts of our brains are like a double edged-sword: on the one hand, they allow us to live in a more rational way. They are responsible for our science, technology, art, and philosophy. However, they also sort of "disconnect" us from our more primal, animalistic nature. Shorter: our extra-ordinary experiences are ordinary for non-human animals, and our ordinary experiences are extra-ordinary for non-human animals.

But this is just a theory, it could be false, and it probably is.

The thing with religious experiences (speaking only from my own personal experiences) is that they sort of impose themselves upon you, whether you're an atheist or not. Granted, I've only had them under the influence of psychoactive drugs. — Arcane Sandwich

Heh. I would call some of my experiences mystical, at least -- reveries or communions or a dissolution of the self. Much of life is not explicable in terms of scientific knowledge. I grew up in a church and noticed how the feelings which are evoked to persuade people into belief are frequently evoked everywhere in order to maintain beliefs. So it wasn't God, exactly, but us who cared about all these various things and human beings being human beings. From my perspective the desire for the mystical and God is about as human as human comes -- it's a natural desire to want more than to eat, shit, sleep, fuck, and die.

For my part I also see value in keeping science out of mystical experiences for the sake of the science -- I've often found it very interesting how people of competing faiths can nevertheless find common ground in producing knowledge. It hints at, to me, that metaphysics are entirely disconnected from the sciences -- whether we are material or spiritual we can still know things about the world.

But the moment you start talking about what the science ultimately means, in some philosophical sense, then the same people who can work together in producing knowledge will wildly disagree.

But this is just a theory, it could be false, and it probably is. — Arcane Sandwich

Oh I think it's definitely a worthy theory! It's possible!

I certainly don't think that my just-so story is even a theory -- just a way to answer the question so I can then say "But I don't know" without feeling completely lost.

it's a natural desire to want more than to eat, shit, sleep, fuck, and die. — Moliere

Is it? I'd say that it's an unnatural desire. It's a human desire. It doesn't seem to be the case that other animals share that same desire. So how could it be natural? Unless such a desire is part of human nature. But we humans are not just humans.

It's a human desire. It doesn't seem to be the case that other animals share that same desire. So how could it be natural? Unless such a desire is part of human nature. But we humans are not just humans. — Arcane Sandwich

"Natural" as in "understandable" -- and I do tend to think of human beings as animals, and that insofar that a human being can conceive of something more than the basic life process they will, naturally, come to want more than a biological existence.

That is, I don't think there's a God in the external world, though there may be one in someone's internal life. And maybe we could visit him through the spiritual rituals. Though in keeping with dropping internal/external, I would simply say "Even though God exists, there will not be an afterlife, and there is no knowledge of goodness. God exists to sooth the human soul, not to create the world"

So the God which mystics speak about, how they mean it, would not exist for all that. They mean it a bit more literally than I tend to think of these things.

"Natural" as in "understandable" -- and I do tend to think of human beings as animals, and that insofar that a human being can conceive of something more than the basic life process they will, naturally, come to want more than a biological existence. — Moliere

José Ortega y Gasset spoke of a distinction between what he called "biological life" and "biographical life".

We humans are more or less similar as far as our biological lives go. As you so eloquently said, all of us eat, shit, sleep, fuck, and die. Well, perhaps not everyone fucks, at least not on a regular basis, but you get my point.

It's our biographical lives that make us truly different. You and I are more or less biologically similar. Yet we are biographically quite different. Your biography is almost completely different from my biography. The circumstances in which you were born and raised are not the same circumstances in which I was born and raised. The circumstances which currently surround your everyday activities are not the same circumstances that currently surround my everyday activities.

I agree with that distinction. That makes sense to me.

My wager is that those animals tend to live in a sort of zen-like state, more or less as described by ↪Wayfarer. Why are we not like them, in our ordinary lives? Precisely because of the more "human" parts of our brains. The humanized parts of our brains are like a double edged-sword: on the one hand, they allow us to live in a more rational way. They are responsible for our science, technology, art, and philosophy. However, they also sort of "disconnect" us from our more primal, animalistic nature. — Arcane Sandwich

Quite. A passage from a powerful essay that I will sometimes cite. (It was originally published online as a reaction to 9/11, by a Californian Zen teacher and poet, reproduced in a book of his essays. It provides a rich framework for consideration of the deeper issues.)

The animal world is a world of pure being, a world of immediacy and immanence. The animal soul is like “water in water,” seamlessly connected to all that surrounds it, so that there is no sense of self or other, of time, of space, of being or not being. This utopian (to human sensibility, which has such alienating notions) Shangri-La or Eden actually isn’t that because it is characterized at all points by what we’d call violence. Animals, that is, eat and are eaten. For them killing and being killed is the norm; and there isn’t any meaning to such a thing, or anything that we would call fear; there’s no concept of killing or being killed. There’s only being, immediacy, “is-ness.” Animals don’t have any need for religion; they already are that, already transcend life and death, being and nonbeing, self and other, in their very living, which is utterly pure.

[In his book, A Theory of Religion] Georges Bataille sees human consciousness beginning with the making of the first tool, the first “thing” that isn’t a pure being, intrinsic in its value and inseparable from all of being. A tool is a separable, useful, intentionally made thing; it can be possessed, and it serves a purpose. It can be altered to suit that purpose. It is instrumental, defined by its use. The tool is the first instance of the “not-I,” and with its advent there is now the beginning of a world of objects, a “thing” world. Little by little out of this comes a way of thinking and acting within thingness (language), and then once this plane of thingness is established, more and more gets placed upon it —other objects, plants, animals, other people, one’s self, a world. Now there is self and other—and then, paradoxically, self becomes other to itself, alienated not only from the rest of the projected world of things, but from itself, which it must perceive as a thing, a possession. This constellation of an alienated self is a double-edged sword: seeing the self as a thing, the self can for the first time know itself and so find a closeness to itself; prior to this, there isn’t any self so there is nothing to be known or not known. But the creation of my 'me', though it gives me for the first time myself as a friend, also rips me out of the world and puts me out on a limb on my own. Interestingly, and quite logically, this development of human consciousness coincides with a deepening of the human relationship to the animal world, which opens up to the human mind now as a depth, a mystery. Humans are that depth, because humans are animals, know this and feel it to be so, and yet also not so; humans long for union with the animal world of immediacy, yet know they are separate from it. Also they are terrified of it, for to reenter that world would be a loss of the self; it would literally be the end of me as I know me.

In the midst of this essential human loneliness and perplexity, which is almost unbearable, religion appears. It intuits and imagines the ancient world of oneness, of which there is still a powerful primordial memory, and calls it The Sacred. This is the invisible world, world of spirit, world of the gods, or of God. It is inexorably opposed to, defined as the opposite of, the world of things, the profane world of the body, of instrumentality, a world of separation, the fallen world. Religion’s purpose then is to bring us back to the lost world of intimacy, and all its rites, rituals, and activities are created to this end. We want this, and need it, as sure as we need food and shelter; and yet it is also terrifying. All religions have known and been based squarely on this sense of terrible necessity. — The Violence of Oneness, Norman Fischer