1: Perception & Reality

This is the first of five chapter in HUMANÆ DESIDERIÆ, a philosophical inquiry into the true nature of human longing. I will post one chapter each Tuesday for the next five weeks.

————–

Life is unbelievable. Every detail of existence, when probed, seems beyond comprehension, too exotic to take seriously, too beautiful to really believe. Yet it is here. We are. This incredible fact demands to be pondered, and on it, humanity has pondered throughout its history. Life is not intuitive. While some are satisfied to live their lives without asking why or how, the philosophers among us cannot let these questions rest.

Humanity is always on a quest for greater knowledge, our desire spurred by these most basic questions: Who are we? Why are we here? What does it mean? Unfortunately, as our knowledge continues to grow, so do our questions. This can be seen so clearly in the scientific fields, where the answer to one question, sometimes thought to be the final path to these basic questions, opens up not only new questions, but new fields of science. This is absolutely clear when one reviews the history of physics in the twentieth and early twenty-first century, as physicists seek a “final theory,” the so-called “theory of everything,” which would be the Holy Grail of scientific discovery. Albert Einstein spent the last thirty years of his life unsuccessfully seeking this unified theory, and dozens of the world’s top physicists have continued his search.

Humanity, with our infinite questions, is forever shackled by our finite knowledge. The very finite idea of a “theory of everything” is a comfort to us, in that it cases our questions in a graspable goal. Yet by making the answer finite, we have limited it. Thus, if our epistemological history has taught us anything, it is the absurdity of the idea of a “final theory,” after which there will be no more questions. I certainly share the hope of modern physicists that one day (and soon!) we will find a way to explain in one theory, the four forces of nature, and to unite the concepts of general relativity with quantum mechanics—this is usually what is meant by the “theory of everything.” But this answer will by no means end our questions. I would warrant to guess that such an answer will burst open an entirely new field of physics, replete with a host of new paths of inquiry and theory, just as Max Planck, by “answering” the question of heat waves, opened up the field of quantum mechanics, with more questions than he could ever have imagined.

Our questioning will never end. The more answers we find, the more questions we will ask. Karl Rahner compares knowledge to “a small island in a vast sea that has not been traveled. It is a floating island, and it might be more familiar to us than the sea, but ultimately it is borne by the sea and only because it is can we be borne by it.” The sea he calls mystery. (Foundations of Christian Faith. Into: 3) Any “theory of everything” may turn out only to be valid for everything on the island.

We are now brought to the point of asking what is, and is not, real. Indeed, this is where our inquiry must begin. As philosophers, we often lose touch with everyday reality. If a philosophy stretches out of the realm of human experience and thought, it becomes essentially a philosophy of nothing. Nor are scientists free from this accusation, much as they may insist that they deal only with the truly real. But as theoretical physics attempts to probe reality on a smaller and smaller scale, and things suddenly seem to become very bizarre, the question must be asked, as some top physicists even have, whether distance scales that small even can be considered to exist. Ultimately, philosophy, science, and certainly religion, must provide answers to the questions of everyday life (relationships, health of one’s body and soul, the structure and well-being of the world, etc.) if they are to be considered at all valid. Sometimes, in all three of these fields, the utter depths must be probed in order to gain an understand of reality. I am hardly one to shy away from probing to the depths. Yet it is when we have probed to the point that we are no longer seeking to understand reality, but a strange new theoretical world of our own creation, when we know we have gone too far. And so at each point of our inquiry, we should be able to ask whether it concerns what is truly real; if we cannot honestly answer “yes,” then it is time to redirect our course. Philosophy must keep itself firmly pointed toward reality.

Philosophy is natural, and necessary to us. A philosopher cannot bear to live without inquiry, and is perpetually fascinated and tormented by the most basic questions of existence: Who are we? Why are we here? What does it mean? Yet an equal or greater number of those who share the human condition feel no need to inquire into these questions. Oftentimes the philosophers (with whom I include any who seek answers to the questions above) wonder and marvel at what they consider the simple thought of the masses. But this simplicity, which is more in touch with reality than we are, is not only valid. There is truly a majesty to those who do not inquire. Theirs is the truth, in that they live what is real without the burden of needing to probe its depths. They already understand.

What is real? At what juncture does science or philosophy usher us round a corner where reality is no more? Obviously, this could be a hotly contested question. Some would argue that it is only the depths which are real, and what we see, the everyday life we perceive, is the mirage. Some theologians claim that the heavenly, blessed life to which we are aspiring is reality, and our lives on earth are nothing but a stage on which our greater destinies are played. This existence, they say, has meaning only in context with the next.

There is an old adage that says, “Perception is Reality.” And there is vital truth to this phrase. The depths of existence have meaning only in the context of what we perceive. In the current study, reality shall be treated as that which we perceive. As science breaks the world down into ever minuter fractions, the ingredients of the world only make sense as applied to the whole. Similarly, religion makes sense only in regard to the presently perceived reality. The depths of inquiry must be understood in their context of seeking answers to the questions we face in every day life.

Of all that is real, most real of all is the relationships we have with others who share this existence. Based on the premise that perception is reality, my relationships prove my own existence. Without others who perceive me, I run the risk of becoming confused by my own perceptions, where dream and reality become unclear. But the attention of others validates my own perceptions.

The entire world and life itself is a miracle. But greatest of all is the miracle of love: that human hearts may bond in companionship and bliss. If anything should be treated as real, it is this. Even the reality of self is dulled without shared human contact. Without another to justify my place, I would begin to doubt my own reality. All religion, and all science only make sense in the context of the bonding human hearts, what I shall refer to hereafter as community. The assurance of a loving smile, or the comfort of a warm embrace, are the truest of the human experiences. It is the human bond that makes life worth living, assuring us that this is not a dream, or a mirage, but the greatest reality imaginable. Love is real, based on our perceptions and interactions with one another. If it is real at all, then it must be treated as such, both with in philosophy and science.

Now in regards to religion, since indeed that is the primary focus of this exploration. Some may have already questioned my statement that religion makes sense only in regard to the present perception. But think of the full spectrum of human perception, including and beyond that of community. It does not only involve flesh and blood, matter, and the senses. It also involves emotions such as hope, fear, anger, love. All of these feelings are imminently real, and religion addresses them in ways that science cannot. Even if science identifies a chemical reaction in your brain which causes love, how real is that based on our present definition. It is a clue as to the inner workings of reality, but the love you feel is already real based on your perception. Science may be able to tell you how, but it cannot tell you why.

Let us focus on the emotion of hope. Humanity has a very real longing for meaning, for something which is more powerful than this present life. At first sight, human existence looks to be completely meaningless. If suffering behaves randomly, as it appears to, if our desires can find no satisfactory gratification, and if we have no hope for a great equalizing afterlife, then the most basic questions of the meaning of life grovel for answers. (John Paul II: Fides et Ratio. 26) But instead, hope drives us in almost everything we do. If we believe in a religion, it drives us to adhere to sometimes uncomfortable creeds. If we do not believe in a religion, it haunts us as a dark unknown. Morality trumps selfishness in human behavior exclusively due to this longing, which makes us fear the consequences of ill behavior. Based on our definition of reality, hope, along with love, must be considered real.

We have looked briefly at the idea in science of a “final theory” or a “theory of everything.” This search has arisen out of a grand symmetry which has been observed in the universe. It has not yet been proven that the world is physically symmetric, but most physicists agree that there is truth to the idea that all the laws of nature are somehow interconnected, and that all the forces of nature work together in a way that essentially has to work. Albert Einstein saw in the universe the necessity of logical simplicity, such that he doubted God could have made the universe in any other way than what it is. Any study of science will eventually convince the student that the universe has an incredibly grand order. Everything that we perceive as real works together in an intricate framework that is beautiful beyond anything we could imagine.

How does this fit into the concepts of hope and love, along with our human longing for meaning and something beyond this present? Well, as these emotions are indeed real, if there is a physical symmetry to the universe, then these emotions, must fit into that symmetry. An empty answer to the desire of humanity would be inconsistent with the beauty, order and elegance of the universe. Whether we see emotions as something contained in a soul separate in essence from the human body, or as something triggered by chemical reactions in the brain, these feelings are as real as the matter which makes up our bodies. The same scientific and philosophical laws should apply to both physical and emotional reality. And if emotions of the heart and soul can be combined into this physical symmetry which science is striving to prove, then the questions of humanity must necessarily point to an answer which is more than an illusion, ergo, an answer which is real.

Can that answer be given by what we call God? If so, then God must also be real, not in an intangible sense, as a distant supremity outside this universe, but real by our present definition. God must be so close that we can touch him, feel him, and interact with him in a manner consistent with the reality we perceive.

Let me summarize the preceding argument. If our perception is indeed reality, as opposed to being an illusion shone by something entirely else, then our emotions must be treated as equally real, including the emotion of hope, which is the human longing for something which transcends this perceived reality. Further, if science can succeed to show that the laws of the universe are physical symmetric, than the human longing must be included in this symmetry, necessitating an answer which is greater than nothing.