<Exploring the Nature of Power and Goodness in Human Existence>
Written on
Men of violence take it by force. Matthew 11:12
Poetry and the notion of Self, with money as its tangible representation, embody the duality of God and Mammon in our world. Percy Bysshe Shelley
Goodness is delicate. The challenge in fully understanding goodness or love as a fundamental truth lies in its resistance to clear definitions, making its contrary—power or force—seem more attractive. The antithesis of love isn't solely hate; rather, it aligns more with the notion of power.
From a psychological perspective, this feeling of force can be understood as the surrender of desire to the ego's influence. While hate emerges from conflicting desires like anger, power dismantles the intrinsic value of goodness to acquire it as a possession.
Power is intricately linked to all values. To illustrate, if I create a Medium account driven by a passion for writing and discover that sensationalist content generates significant income, I acquire a form of power that challenges my perception of value.
The crux of our dilemma is that defining goodness is far more complex than the pursuit of material rewards, which necessitates recognizing and valuing that goodness. Money is quantifiable and concrete, while its benefits are evident.
The temptation to compromise writing for profit exemplifies a broader human condition. The Viking raid on the Monks of Lindisfarne in 793 revealed the vulnerability of peace when confronted with those who reject non-violence.
Despite our modern Western belief in moral advancement, one might argue that since the Industrial Revolution, we have merely transitioned from overt violence to different forms of power—technological and financial.
Moreover, money's tangible and measurable nature ties it to an era fixated on objective materialism. Although rooted in abstract truths, science often serves as a means to an end—power—highlighted by inventions like the atomic bomb and smartphones.
It's difficult to contest that power often prevails over intrinsic value. Scientific materialism dominates our philosophical landscape because it is effective, while the faith it disregards demands a more profound acceptance of the unknown—an area where science falls short. In a world where prayer cannot deter an atomic explosion, we in the West adopt a belief that power overshadows value to the extent that the latter becomes a mere illusion.
This belief manifests in various societal trends, such as the decline of marriage and the rise of pornography—products of a sexual revolution that prioritizes pleasure over deeper values, demonstrating a lack of comprehension about why such values matter. If sex is pleasurable and marriage is constraining, why would one choose restraint?
This query resonates with the familiar narrative from Genesis 3, where the serpent questions, “Did God truly command you not to eat from any tree in the garden?” Eve, drawn by the fruit's allure, perceives it as good for consumption and aesthetically pleasing. The serpent implies that God's prohibition is merely a denial of knowledge, suggesting that eating the fruit will elevate them to divine understanding.
The emergence of consciousness throughout human history does not signify the birth of power; rather, power governs the natural world, evident in the predatory instincts of animals. While values may unify society amid competition, they require aggressive defense against external threats.
However, self-awareness brings clarity to our actions, indicating that consciousness is the awakening of values, coupled with the temptation to yield to power. The enduring wisdom of Genesis 3 reflects a timeless human conflict: Why should we care about values when power offers immediate gratification?
Much of history chronicles the pursuit of power—whether by the Babylonians, Assyrians, Romans, or Vikings—through forceful acquisition.
In civilized societies, we often condemn such imperial actions. Yet, if we accept science's assertion that power ultimately eclipses value, why do we not idolize historical figures like Caesar for their conquests?
The ambiguity arises because we live in an era devoid of clear answers regarding existence. Our reactions to historical violence are instinctual rather than reasoned. Yet, another narrative has shaped our values, urging us to recognize that power does not hold ultimate dominion.
The crucifixion exemplifies the might of the Roman Empire, as it was a brutal and humiliating execution reserved for slaves, symbolizing the conqueror's authority. Yet, in the first century AD, a new belief emerged: a sinless man willingly suffering this torment to offer salvation to humanity. This narrative claimed that Jesus Christ's death empowered the marginalized and the outcast, emphasizing that he would ultimately judge humanity based on their treatment of society's least fortunate.
Throughout history, Christians have exemplified this moral commitment. They were known for rescuing abandoned infants and establishing the first hospitals, all while the Church expanded its influence. Even as Christianity became the state religion of the Roman Empire, the moral impulse persisted, resonating with those who adhered to its teachings more than to the lure of power. From the abolition movement to civil rights, fervent Christians championed the principles espoused by the early apostles.
For instance, as Hernán Cortés advanced through Mexico, Spanish Friar Bartolomé de las Casas condemned the "brutal and unjust wars" waged under the guise of faith, denouncing the Spanish Requerimiento as “unjust, impious, scandalous, irrational and absurd.”
In the twentieth century, civil rights leader Martin Luther King Jr. invoked biblical prophecy to support equality, expressing his dream of societal transformation.
The narratives shared by early Christians presented an alternative to the Genesis tale. They referred to Jesus as the "second Adam," proclaiming that, in God's eternal context, love—not power—ultimately prevails. An early Christian hymn found in Philippians captures this sentiment, illustrating Jesus's humility and obedience, culminating in divine exaltation.
Thus, early Christians posited that Jesus was not merely an exemplary man but in very nature God, asserting that God transcends all power and identifies with the downtrodden. For believers, moral values are both real and eternal.
Even when stripped of metaphysical implications, this belief persists. Why else would we be concerned with the oppression of the vulnerable or the degradation of marginalized communities? Many societies throughout history have remained indifferent, subscribing to the notion that power reigns supreme and that existence is ultimately doomed to entropy.
Contemporary Christians often view these values as part of a cultural struggle to preserve society against moral decline and authoritarian ideologies. Ayaan Hirsi Ali, a notable recent convert, cited these threats as a reason for her conversion.
While such arguments may hold some validity, they diverge from the teachings of first-century Christians. Jesus instructed his followers to "Render to Caesar what is Caesar's, and to God what is God's," living in communal harmony while anticipating persecution, whether from Jesus's return or a realization of faith beyond their mortal lives. Indeed, the apostle Paul declared, "For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain."
At the heart of Christianity lies a profound mystery transcending mere cultural expressions. Christianity emerged as a radical faith, advocating for a journey toward an existence defined solely by value. Paul articulated this in Ephesians, deeming all worldly gains as losses in pursuit of Christ.
Ultimately, the cultural battles within Western society distract from understanding deeper truths. Power and value are intrinsic dynamics of conscious existence, and as long as humanity endures, the apple remains consumed. The ease with which we invoke historical atrocities reminds us of the reality of evil and its violation of genuine worth.
For believers, this distinction transcends cultural discourse. J.R.R. Tolkien observed that Christian history is one of enduring defeat followed by ultimate victory, indicating that while power may dominate earthly affairs, it is value that possesses lasting significance. For believers, love, truth, and goodness are eternal, transcending temporal limitations.
How do we know their truth? The answer may be elusive to modern sensibilities. We grasp it intuitively, often described as "faith" by Christians, informed by love and hope. Goodness, unlike material wealth, cannot be measured or possessed; rather, it exists as the foundation of all being—the essence in which we "live and move and have our being."
Thank you for reading.