politics, philosophy, and other lonely musings
God is dead, death is certain
To borrow an oft-used phrase of a close comrade, “God is dead, death is certain.” Camus’ project is to convince us of the ultimate futility of hoping for eternal life, divine reward, or transcendent truth. In short, we need convincing that, given God is dead (or never existed, perhaps, would be closer to Camus’ own feelings), it is only when we accept that death is certain, and do our best to live on in spite of the crushing weight of this knowledge, that we can ever have any chance of finding some meaning in the universe—even though it is meaning that will have been constructed by us, in our works and experiences, and perhaps in our relationships with others, for there is no intrinsic or inherent meaning or value “out there” in the universe.
Now, considering this from the perspective of the modern atheist movement, troubles emerge. Should it not be the case that an atheistic, humanistic, (supposedly) science- and reason-based worldview be vastly different from that of a theistic, faith- and revelation-based scripturally-grounded worldview? It has been my experience (and of course I am speaking here of my own experiences, coloured as they may be by my own biases and rationalizations with fellow atheists on campus, as well as off-campus and online) that the difference between the worldviews of the modern religious and the modern atheist are but metaphorical and substitutive. Replacing the divine and transcendent God and Christ with the natural and human (supposedly) reason and science turns out not to be the Copernican shift that it ought to be, or could be, but is merely a substitution of metaphor.
Camus writes of a such a vast, vast difference that is, when all is said and done, a vast, vast sameness when he notes in the Myth of Sisyphus, “[f]rom the abstract god of Husserl to the dazzling god of Kierkegaard the distance is not so great. Reason and the irrational lead to the same preaching.” The substitution of scientific truth for divine truth is just this sort of abstract god, set atop a new, gleaming pedestal for all to worship. Having the advantage of the more obviously concrete (or so it seems to True Believers) foundations of empiricism, it is nevertheless elevated into Faith which, contra Camus, tells us that there are objective (scientific) values in the universe, and that we can fundamentally discover them with reason; there are no limits to science as there are no limits to God and Christ: “With Husserl the reason eventually has no limits at all.”