'My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?' These are the words spoken by Jesus as he agonised over God's divine absence on the cross. These words form the central thesis of Peter Rollins' controversial work Insurrection, which claims that religion is a psychological crutch, and that only by embracing the level of existential doubt and torment experienced by Jesus will we find meaning.
Rollins rails against the certainty expressed in worship songs and sermons in church services, and condemns it as a kind of faith by proxy. We are allowed to have doubt, he says, because of the certainty expressed by our church ministers and worship leaders, which gives us psychological equilibrium. What if we expressed frustration and anger and doubt in our worship? It is a stirring question.
But then, it seems as though Rollins would not only have us include these troubling emotions and concepts in our services and life, but embrace them deeply above feelings of certainty. His critiques of the church range far and wide, to the extent that apologetics are analagously likened to the torture of the Spanish inquisition and any positive assertion about God is seen as like a comforter to a baby, that protects us from the real truth.
And the real truth, Rollins would say, as that on this earth, we don't know what's true. We don't have the security of certainty. So we shouldn't act like we do.
"This is pyro-theology, insomuch as it sees the unchanging truth of faith nestled not in any positive claims to reality but in the ongoing testing and transformation of those claims through the fires of passionate, loving debate."
It is this passionate certainty about the uncertainty of God, this absolute knowledge of our unknowing, and this truth claim that truth is not 'nestled...in any positive claims to reality', that makes me wary of Rollins' as a philosophical or theological guide. He wields radical doubt like a scalpel, slicing open religious thought with his critiques, and rather than removing the defective parts, decides to dispose of the entire body.
I'm not one to appeal to tradition as the default position of truth, but the way in which Rollins packages thousands of years of theology as myth without proper theological analysis makes his thesis seem like a forgone conclusion in his head. He offers Bible verses to back up his point, but they are often utilised in spite of their textual context and intentions, rather than in support of them. And then, Rollins gives us a mythology of his own creation - that the crux of the cross is a kind of existential crisis - largely based on one thing Jesus said: 'My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?'
When talking about the resurrection, it seems as though Rollins' interpretation of the 'good news' is that it's not just OK, but desirable to live in existential doubt and not assert any religious truth. While I'm all for honest grapples with doubt and despair, I don't think that they constitute the Gospel story. The crucifixion shows us God's absence from Jesus, but the resurrection shows us their oneness. This is the resolution that Rollins ignores, or writes away as a myth or psychological crutch.
Furthermore, Rollins does not acknowledge how his own position, one of radical doubt, could act as a crutch, too. It means never intellectually committing to an absolute truth, which may be comforting to the non-committal.
In addition, we should ask this question - is it wrong to make comforting truth claims even if we lack certainty? That seems to be the thrust of Rollins' backlash against many of the liturgical features of religious services. He critiques one preacher for saying that while we may doubt God, God never doubts us.
"While we are told that it is fine to doubt and struggle with our faith, in the same breath the preacher was able to perform a sleight of hand that enables him to relocate certainty at a higher, hidden level."
Rollins hits on an important point here: people need space to doubt, without being given the assurance of certainty to fill the void. Churches are guilty of 'covering over the cracks' of people's doubt, which can lead to its repression and find expression in unhealthy ways.
On the other hand, we should not begrudge people of faith for making truth claims about God, even if they are not certain. There are many things that we take for granted in life, not because we have absolute proof, but because we have made a decision to trust. When a someone tells their spouse that they love them, we could argue that they are giving them psychological comfort, or even acting as a crutch. The spouse has no way of knowing for certain if the other really does love them, or has some other motive. This is not intended to be analogous to God's relationship with us, because clearly the two are very different. However, the example serves to show us that choosing to believe in an expression of certainty ('I love you') in the face of uncertainty, and the psychological comfort that this brings, do not necessarily render those involved as 'in denial' or having an indoctrinated form of belief.
There is much more to say about this book, for while its centre is that of fully embracing doubt, there are many ideas that orbit around this thesis, that are more convincing than the thesis itself. Rollins speaks into how we fight for social justice while perpetuating an oppressive system, how we justify our actions to process our guilt, how God is revealed in the very action of loving another, how doubt is integral to the experience of the crucified Jesus, why belief in God is so compelling, and many more ideas. Rollins writes with eloquence in all areas, often doubling down on explanations in order to make himself clear, which is useful in the meatier, wordier topics.
To further illustrate these ideas, Rollins peppers the book with parables, both borrowed and original, which are a delight to read, but sometimes do not seem to marry up completely with the points of their relevant chapters, or perhaps are not explored fully. Nevertheless, the parables are wonderful in and of themselves, often demonstrating the inherent contradictions in human behaviour and belief.
Rollins uses a lot of bellicose language (the favourite seeming to be the word 'rupture') to describe what he thinks a Christological worldview does to religion. This will appeal a lot, I think, to those who have become disillusioned with the church and can't wait to deconstruct it. At one point, he quotes the Spanish anarchist Buenaventura Durruti as saying "The only church that illuminates is a burning one." But I wonder if Rollins' radical doubt and lack of comittment to truth claims can offer us something better, or if they are simply the antithesis of all structures.
Overall, there is a lot of value in this book. Rollins makes so many points about psychology, philosophy and religion that something is bound to spark a new thought or line of inquiry. While his conclusions about how far we should embrace doubt seem too extreme to allow us to live consistently, his injection of doubt as an essential aspect of faith into public discourse is one I welcome with open arms. And while his critiques of belief threaten to dissolve us into a postmodern sludge of doubt, he makes insightful and important observations about the way religious structures function to make certainty the highest virtue. And finally, while his extrapolation of one Bible verse into an entire worldview is perhaps a little hasty, his exploration of Jesus' experience of divine absence is one that is revelatory for the human experience.
Rollins' conclusions are somewhat fraught, but along the way we find many enlightening observations about the human condition that will certainly reshape the way we live. I once heard someone say that you don't have to agree with everything someone says to agree with anything they say. I don't agree with everything Rollins says, but much of his work is challenging, inspiring, poetic, and often even prophetic.