[NOTE: If I were a better writer, I would have developed each of these thoughts into a full-length essay. But this is the best I can do right now.]
How does an atheist explain Euclid? In a purely material world, what is a perfect circle or a straight line or a point? These do not exist in nature. If they are mere ideas, mental constructs, thoughts made up of flashing neurons, then why do they work so well to explain reality? Why does geometry work? Why can a mere thought become a building or a bridge?
Would it be fair to describe Richard Dawkins and his progeny as “Hard Shell Atheists”?
I am of course thinking of the term “Hard Shell Baptists”, coined to describe (indeed, self-describe) the “Primitive” or “Old School” who self-separated from the more mainstream Southern Baptists. Starting in 19th century rural America, they rejected any religious activity beyond the church walls and home prayer; even missionary societies and Sunday schools were unacceptable to them. “If it isn’t explicitly ordered in scripture, it is untrue and unchristian.”
Some of today’s atheists sound vaguely similar, at least in tone. “If it isn’t written in science, it is untrue.” “If it hasn’t been answered by science, it soon will.” “If it can’t be answered by science, it can’t be asked.” Dawkins’ thinking often seems to be carefully isolated within a hard protective shell. Some writers have called this “scientism”, a faith in science as the one and only path to understanding: “sola scientia”, instead of “sola scriptura”.
Am I being unfair? Maybe. I will try to pray for the enlightenment of all atheists.
When does purgatory begin? Not until we die (assuming we die in a state of grace)?As I understand it, purgatory is the state of suffering in expiation for the sins we have repented. If so, then purgatory begins with repentance, and does not end with priestly absolution. “Ego te absolvo” is not the finish line. The memory of our sins is the lifelong experience of the repentant sinner whenever he contemplates his own past. Every memory can conjure up the pain and shame of his sinfulness at its worst. At least it is so for me.
Perhaps this unwillingness or inability to cast off the memory of my sins is in itself a sin, an unwillingness to accept God’s merciful love. If so, I am just digging my hole deeper.
But if this pain of remembered sin is in fact the act of purgation, if this is the unstated part of penance, then perhaps I should not resist.
Dante’s Purgatorio (purgatory) is by far the most interesting part of his Divine Comedy. For me the Inferno (hell) is too darkly comcal, and Paradiso (heaven) is frankly too sweet. But in Purgatory, our humanness is realistically but hopefully portrayed.
I think I will read some Dante tonight; you should too. There are many good translations, with helpful notes explaining the characters in Dante’s world. I recommend Anthony Esolen’s version (and everything else he ever wrote).
O Ben Finiti 