After the Museum Closes

Winter                                                  Moon of the Winter Solstice

Holiday outing with Anne, Kate’s sister.  We went to the MIA, tickets for the 4:00 pm terra cotta warriors.  This is the last hour of the day, the museum closing at 5:00 pm.  There were crowds downstairs in the lobby, crowds on the 2nd floor wandering through the China and Africa galleries and crowds, many people, in the exhibit itself.

(who do you suppose the gladiator finds to fight?  One of the officers in Germanicus?)

This has been a big one, passing Rembrandt apparently already, though that’s hard for me to believe.  We meandered through, looked at the wonderful gold hilted dagger and the Bo bell, the beginnings of the Qin state back in that faraway time.  Homer’s time.  A time of marauding nomads in China.  770 B.C.

As we finished the announcement came that the museum closes in 5 minutes.  Doors were shut denying access to certain galleries.  All of us herded down the main corridor, the one with Doryphoros and out, the corridors becoming empty, going into the magical space that art takes on when the viewers leave.  What is art when no sees it?  Do the terra cotta warriors fan, sit on the benches before another tiring day of educating the masses?  Does Frank blink his eyes, no doubt dry from a day holding them open.  Perhaps Picasso’s baboon takes over the place, swinging from the Calder and the Chihully and maybe opening the door of the Tatris.

We’ll never know because all the art finds its way back to its stations before the next human returns.  I could sense them getting ready, perhaps willing us all out so they could get on with their night.  The Buddha wandering over to discuss divinity with Vishnu and Shiva and Parvati.  The old sages getting up from their poses beside waterfalls and on the balconies of secluded houses, perhaps dropping into the scholar’s room for a chat, some tea.

But then again, maybe everything stays the same, static and waiting.  Would be a shame if it did.

An Instrumentalist View of Religion

Winter                                                                    Moon of the Winter Solstice

There are the beginnings of an interesting apologia for religion.  I’ve seen it many times of late, most recently in a NYT article by chief rabbi of the United Hebrew Congregations of the Commonwealth and a member of the House of Lords, Jonathan Sacks.  His choice of references tells the tale.  He recounts how Robert Putnam, author of the influential essay “Bowling Alone” (and a Unitarian clergy btw), went on to search for the sources of social capital.  He found it in religious communities and congregations.

Sacks concludes his essay countering the oft-cited decline of religious affiliation and belief by claiming Putnam’s work finds religious organizations a necessary counter to the otherwise fragmented society of the secular individualist.  A similar note was struck in another NYT article, In a Crisis, Humanists Seem Absent.  This article takes notice of the outpouring of religious communities in the wake of the Newton tragedies and wonders where the humanists are?

Without getting into a debate about the fact that many folks who show up in traditional religious communities are in fact secular humanists I want instead to point to the instrumentalist assumption behind the article’s title.  The good religionists have shown up while the less worthy humanists are assumed to have stayed home.

What I want to highlight is how both articles point to a functional or instrumental test of religion’s value.  That is, if individualism needs countering, turn to religious communitarianism.  If a crisis occurs in the community, the religious communities show up, trumping the secular humanist, (also the individualist from Sacks article?), who apparently does not.

Both articles may well point to an existing reality, again I would challenge that they do, but that’s not the point here; however, their main argument is a curious one.  That is, religious communities are good because they a) counter the solitary turn of contemporary consumer capitalism and b) show up in times of crisis.  Let’s grant for now that these two things are the case; they still present a peculiar rationale for religious community.  It is an instrumental one.  In other words, religious communities are good (and by implication necessary) if they create a social benefit.

Here’s my point:  social benefits are side bars for religious communities which exist to promote and extend in time a particular metaphysics.  The Judaeo-Christian communities promote a monotheistic God who does real things and presides over the reality which we experience.  If you don’t believe this, you don’t belong to the community.  This metaphysical salute, or belief, or faith is necessary, the sine qua non of both Jewish and Christian religious organizations.

So, you can’t go backwards from the social benefits to the metaphysics.  Which is just what those do who promote the value of religious organizations by flagging their communitarian nature or their good works.  You have to have the metaphysics first.  In other words, the religious community that does not have its metaphysics in order is not, ipso facto, a religious community.  It’s something else.   But, if an organization with its metaphysics in place defines itself as religious, then social good is a side benefit, perhaps a valued one within the community, but very far from its primary purpose.  To argue otherwise is to take a cynical position vis a vis religion where belief becomes a stalking horse for social welfare.