In the Brothers Karamazov, Ivan’s philosophical and theological
ideas are complex and develop in the course of the novel. However, near the
beginning of the novel in Book 2 Chapter 6 an idea is attributed to him by a
character named Miusev. He reports that at a recent meeting Ivan began by
saying that if love has existed between people it is only because they have
believed in immortality. Moreover without the belief in immortality there would
be no morality and everything would be permitted. If someone ceases to believe
in God, then logically he should be an egoist and even become an evil doer.
Ivan is asked by the Elder Zosima if this is his view and he says “Yes, it was
my contention. There is no virtue if there is no immortality.” (p. 70) The
Elder seems to commiserate with Ivan, accepting that indeed he neither believes
in God nor in immortality.
There is no need however, to go into the ins and outs of Ivan’s
theology, nor be overly concerned about who said what and when in the novel.
The idea that is being put forward is that morality and love of other human
beings in some way depends on immortality with the implication that immortality
depends on God. The implication is that God and immortality are really one and
the same belief or at least interconnected. To cease to believe in the one is
to cease to believe in the other.
But why should this be so? It is worth investigating in what way
morality is dependent on belief in God or perhaps more accurately in the
existence of God.
Let’s look at the situation from the point of view of someone
contemplating doing wrong. If by wrong we mean something like theft or murder,
why do I not do these things. One reason is that there are laws and there is the
police and I realise that if I commit a crime there is a reasonable chance
that I will be caught and punished. I therefore decide out of self-interest not
to steal from a shop or to commit murder, because I don’t want to end up in
prison or have some other punishment given to me.
The problem with this is that if everyone thought in this way, law
would rapidly collapse. The population of a country massively outnumbers the
police. If everyone sat waiting for their chance to break the law, when they
thought there was a chance of getting away with it, how could the police catch
all of them? The law works only insofar as a minority of people are
criminally minded. The majority do not break the law because they are scared of
the police or punishment, but because they think breaking the law is wrong. But
from where do we get this other sense of wrong, meaning morally wrong?
Moreover, what of things which most of us consider to be wrong,
which are not illegal? Why should couples remain faithful to each other, why
should we not tell lies? Is it that we fear that if we are unfaithful perhaps
our marriage will break up, or if we tell lies then no one will trust us
further? But what if we know at this moment that we can tell a lie and get away
with it? What if we are in another country when we have the chance to be
unfaithful? And yet we might choose not to be. Why do people act sometimes in a
way that suggests self-sacrifice, why are people kind and altruistic?
It’s worth focussing on how we actually learn morality. We learn
morality normally from a mother who watches. From an early age, she sees me do
something and says don’t do that. If I continue to do the thing which is wrong
she may punish me. Let’s say I steal sweets from the sweet jar. The first time,
she says don’t steal sweets. It’s wrong. And so I learn not to steal sweets
while she is looking. I may think that I can steal sweets when she is not
looking and so when she is in another room I creep up to the jar and steal a
sweet. But mother is cleverer than me, she has counted the sweets. I’m asked
did you steal a sweet. I say no. She knows better. She counts out the sweets,
one is missing. I’m punished, moreover she shows disapproval and I want that
approval. I feel shame. In time I don’t steal from the sweet jar even when I
know that I could get away with it. This feeling of guilt is developed in a
myriad of ways such that eventually about a whole mass of matters I have an
internalised sense of guilt when I contemplate doing wrong. This is what we
call conscience. It is based on the the idea of mother somehow overseeing what
I do, even when she is not there.
But when I grow up and can reason about these things, why do I not
realise that I can throw off this conscience? Mother is now far away. I know
that she will not discover if I take from the sweet jar. Who else can be
overseeing me. The police observe. And so I should be careful not to be caught.
But this is simply a matter of self interest and we are back to the idea of
morality being simply a matter of law. What about God? Can he take the
role of the mother watching to see if I steal from the sweet jar? Perhaps. But
if I begin to study philosophy I quickly realise that this whole matter of
God’s existence is rather uncertain. Descartes is not even certain of the
existence of the outside world. Perhaps all my perceptions are deceptions.
Any course of philosophy seems to see scepticism win out. First year
philosophy classes are dominated by questions like “How do I know the sun will
rise tomorrow?” But if I don’t even know this, how can the fact that a God who
might exist might be observing me steal from the sweet jar, motivate my
behaviour? Is God indeed not just an extension of the observing mother, who
created my conscience in the first place?
Moreover I quickly realise when studying philosophy that there are
lots of systems of morality that do not depend on God. Each major philosopher
seems to have such a system. One says that I should do that which leads to the
greatest happiness of the greatest number. Another thinks that I should imagine
what would happen if everyone followed a course of action and act accordingly.
There are any number of such systems and they don’t all mention God. But why
should I follow such a system? Who is to make me? Perhaps its in my self
interest to do so. But that is not morality. That is just another form of
egoism. Perhaps I realise that its my duty to follow a particular philosopher’s
system of morality. But why should I follow my duty? Perhaps I realise that
rationality calls for me to follow a particular morality. But then why be
rational? Let me be irrational just so long as I get what I want.
This is our problem. Either I follow the system of morality out of
self interest in which case it is really the same as law (Just a matter of
pragmatism and self-interest), or I follow the system out of duty. But then I
already am moral. But whence this morality as it can not be coming from the
system? There is obviously circularity here.
The problem of morality goes far back. The problem is stated as
well as anywhere in Plato’s Republic with the story of the ring of Gyges. If I
had the ring of Gyges which makes me invisible, such that I could get away with
any crime, would I refrain from doing so. Only if I I would refrain from doing
wrong, even if I could get away with it, can I be said to be truly moral.
The idea of the watcher is present here also. If no one can watch,
because I am invisible would I steal from the sweet jar. I don’t steal from the
sweet jar, even when mother is not around, because she has shown that sometimes
she knows better than me. Eventually I internalise this into conscience and I
don’t steal even when I know I would get away with it, because I have this
thing called conscience taught by my mother. But what if I realise that I’m
being a mug, that this conscience thing is just a fraud? Why then not put on
the ring of Gyges and do what I wish so long as I can get away with it?
Of course, here God can play a role. Even if someone wears the
ring of Gyges and can do what he likes on Earth, God observes him. The idea of
God and with it the idea of immortality is the idea that even if you get away
with immorality on earth, even if you are a criminal who is never caught by the
law, still God watches. God is the ultimate mother and the fundament which
underpins conscience. God’s justice, the fact that he can reward or punish can
be seen as a reason to be moral, for it may seem to solve the problem of the
ring of Gyges. Even if I am to get away with evil here and now, it may not be
rational to do so if I am to be punished later in eternity. God is like a
universal police force. The lawbreaker may not be sent to prison on earth, but
there is the equivalent of prison after death. Is this the reason that Ivan
thinks that if there is no immortality then everything is permitted?
The observant mother is now in the transcendent sphere and able to
judge according to how I lived my life. There is no chance that I can escape
detection. All my sins will be found out. But this is our problem. If I do good
in order to gain salvation or to avoid hell, then this is really no different
from law. It is my self interest in the long run to do good. Out of egoism and
selfishness, it would be rational for me to choose to do good in order to
obtain a reward and to avoid punishment. But this is no more morality than the
person who is law abiding solely because he fears the police. The police have
simply been transferred to a transcendent realm with powers to detect every
crime even those committed with the ring of Gyges.
Perhaps the solution is in this way. The idea that I can treat God
as a policeman who rewards and punishes like the police and the courts is to
misunderstand the nature of God. Salvation both does and does not depend on
what I do, how I live my life. My actions are both necessary and unnecessary.
Salvation is by faith alone and by good works. In Kierkegaardian terms,
salvation is a matter of both Religiousness A and Religiousness B, inwardness
and externality, relation to self and relation to other. In the Reformation
debate between Protestantism and Catholicism we must hold together both sides
of the argument even though they contradict each other, we must have both
Luther and the Pope, works righteousness and faith alone.
What this means can be explained in the following way. I must
believe that how I live is decisive for my salvation. This is Kierkegaard’s
religiousness B and decisive Christianity. Therefore I must want to witness to
the truth and imitate the life of Christ as far as is possible. The lesson that
Kierkegaard has to teach us indeed is that my faith is my action. This is the
importance of the Epistle of James in his work. What is it is to suppose that
someone has faith. It is to see that he acts in certain ways. This was the
lesson from Wittgenstein. How can I know if I can whistle a tune? I must
whistle it. How can I know if I have faith? I must act according to it. There
is no faith without action. Once I understand that faith is action, then there
can be no question of faith without it. But and here is the crucial point.
Although I believe that how I live is decisive for my salvation, I cannot
bargain. God’s choice is free and from the point of view of eternity already
made.
Thus I cannot act in order to obtain a reward and to avoid a punishment.
I recognise from my faith the need to act as a Christian or try to act as a
Christian. I also recognise that these actions are crucial. Following
Kierkegaard again, only through relating to other people, through living the
Christian life, do I create the self that God can save. But I must trust in
God. I realise when faced with God that nothing that I could do would be
enough. Therefore I am absolutely dependent on his love and grace for my
salvation.
This is not something that can be understood, for it depends on a
Kierkegaardian paradox. Christian morality is the paradoxical unity of
salvation by faith alone and salvation by means of good works. This is a
genuine contradiction, and something that we cannot understand. A similar
contradiction exists in the two ideas that salvation is a matter of
predestination while how I live is decisive for whether I obtain salvation.
This is to look at the matters from the point of view of eternity and from the
point of view of temporality. The combination of the positions is the truth.
Just as Christ was the eternal in time. So my salvation is the eternal in time.
It is an absolute paradox and a matter for faith, not for reason. It is for
this reason that the Bible at times seems contradictory on this matter. The thief
on the cross will be with Jesus today in paradise, but salvation is a matter of
waiting until the Day of Judgement. But this too is just the paradoxical
combination of the eternal point of view with the temporal point of view. We
cannot expect to fully understand these matters. Here indeed is is something
that cannot be fully expressed, something that defeats language and thought.
Thus I believe both that my good works are decisive for my
salvation, that how I live my life is crucial and that nothing I do could ever
be good enough. I am saved from egoism by my realisation that God’s choice is
free and that I am absolutely dependent on his love and grace. Thus I am not
acting in order to gain salvation, for there can be no bargaining with God. Faith
is action. It can even be said that I am saved by faith alone. For when I
understand that faith is not, or not merely a matter of inwardness, I realise
that faith is simply what I do.
If faith is only inwardness, it is only the relationship to the
eternal. In Kierkegaardian terms this is paganism the relationship to God. The
incarnation brings the eternal into time and enables us to relate externally.
The only way to relate to Christ as a Christian is to love Christ and to try to
live as he did. This means action. Once I understand this then action
inevitably follows.
It is the free choice of God that makes Christian morality and
means that it is neither a matter of law nor a matter of egoism. God’s free
choice means that Christianity can never be a matter of self-interest. I have
no guarantee, no matter how saintly I live my life. Thus we have the Bible
story of the The workers who turn up late getting just the same. I can not gain
God’s perspective. But I know that God is love and therefore I have hope.
But what I realise also is that finally my way of relating to God
is through Christ. When I try to relate to the eternal, the infinite, the omniscient
and omnipotent then I deal with what I is forever distant and remote from my
life. I can try to relate inwardly and I can have a sense of this faith, but it
is not concrete. It's like the idea that I can whistle the tune. Until I
actually do whistle it, there is no whistling. Likewise with faith, it comes
into existence through my actions. But when I begin relating to Christ, through
imitation, witnessing. I relate to something, someone concrete. I can follow
his lead. And through the fact that Christ is paradoxically both God and man, I
in this way relate to God.
In Kierkegaardian terms it is the paradoxical combination of
religiousness A (relating to God, through inwardness), (the eternal), (relation
to self), (Protestantism, salvation by faith alone, for it has already from the
point of view of eternity been determined), and religiousness B (Relation to
Christ), (the temporal), (relation to another), (Catholicism, the idea that my
salvation is not yet determined and depends on how I live my life). It is this
combination that creates morality.
It is this combination also that creates the self that can be
saved. This shows indeed that God is the fundament of morality. If God does not
exist then ultimately everything is permitted. It is for this reason that Ivan
is to be pitied. Through his lack of faith he puts himself in a position, which
makes it impossible for God to save him, for he has no self to save. Following
Grushenka’s story in the Brothers Karamazov, God needs at least one onion in
order to grab the self.
For Ivan, God is dead and everything is permitted. The unbeliever
unbelief is for him the truth for he has put himself in a position where God
can not help him. This is his eternal punishment. His eternal punishment is not
that God judges him and condemns him, but that God cannot even judge him,
cannot even notice him. His hell is that his atheism turns out, for him to be
quite accurate.
Brothers Karamazov, Translated by Pevear and Volokhonsky, Vintage, 1992
Brothers Karamazov, Translated by Pevear and Volokhonsky, Vintage, 1992
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