Chapter 11
Finding Purpose in a Godless World
by Ralph Lewis
Finding Purpose in a Godless World
by Ralph Lewis
Please discuss Chapter 11 of Finding Purpose in a Godless World by Ralph Lewis in this thread.
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I can see how my earlier claim that purpose and meaning were much the same was pretty far off. I'll go instead with meaning, significance, and value being in the same range. Purpose is like energy; it's needed to reap meaning but says nothing about whether meaning is captured. I think you may have said that meaning is something we can all agree on as a "good." It isn't just what automatically comes from our purposeful action, but has qualities that have always been known, and these are part of what religion has enshrined. Meaning is most likely to be present when we're acting on others' behalf, not surprising given that we're preeminently social animals. Perhaps bees feel the same.Harry Marks wrote: Lewis goes so far as to define meaning. Meaning is the value or significance that we believe life to have, "its importance, why it matters to us, why it is worthwhile." He distinguishes this from purpose, which is our "motivated goal-directedness or sense of our life's intended aim." I think he did a good job setting those out, but would have liked him to explore the intersubjectivity of meaning, which is a more "active" intersubjectivity (we seek more to shape it and it depends more on consensus) than whatever intersubjectivity there is in "purpose." Instead it seems he stops with the definition.
While I agree that abdication of responsibility might be a valid charge in certain cases, it is also true that we cannot intervene wherever a humanitarian crisis exists, at least not with troops. That might even apply to the UN. Almost all of us regret going into Iraq, but are we sure that had we not, many of us would not now be saying we should have used military force against Saddam? Colin Powell's original take on Iraq intervention--the Pottery Barn warning: if you break it, you own it--is worth heeding. We may forestall a serious problem, but this may not count or be recognized if other serious problems emerge from our involvement.Americans need to think about the bystander issue. We let others call the shots on Rwanda and kept UN peacekeepers from intervening when they could have forestalled full-on genocide. We backed away from confronting Russia as it enabled Assad's genocide. We have the most powerful military on earth, but we don't see it as our job to prevent further horrors, and now we are turning away refugees from the horror that we encouraged Central America to become. Evidently to simply say "the universe doesn't care but we can," is not to get very far with exploring the nature of moral obligation, or its connection to making sense of what matters.
Lewis elsewhere isn't willing to endorse "whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger," for the same reason that he wants to identify resilience as a strength not available to everyone in equal measure. There is judgmentalism in therapy/counseling on this matter of choosing the response to hardship. Maybe Lewis is reflecting on that. Whereas it is widely accepted that addiction is not the person's fault, being less able to fight back is more likely to be held as a moral weakness.Looking into Victor Frankl's "Man's Search for Meaning" he is pulled into the subject of resilience and disagree's with Frankl's assertion that people are free to choose their response to devastation. Human resilience varies, he says, and we need to avoid putting guilt on people for lacking the resilience that others may have. Meaning-making, I conclude, is a complex matter as well, hedged on one side by the abyss of absurdity, and on the other by the unfairness of stressing others with our vision of possibility.
Or not to become too anxious that we don't have enough meaning in our lives! That quality, too, can be something by which we compare ourselves unfavorably to others, a special tendency in this Facebook age.With little segue, he goes on to look at the issue of lack of control in adversity and how some people are shattered because they need control. The stories are good - this is one of his areas of specialization, after all - but he has little to share with us in wisdom about it, except "don't expect too much," and don't ruin the time you have left with frustration or with determination to leave a legacy of good or to have every moment count.
The current judgment, "It's all good," just about summarizes. If only we really believed it at the appropriate times. I'm sure that a large percentage of people Lewis treats feels that they've failed to achieve their potential in different ways. Why we are so insistent on being our own harshest critics is something that, as you say, whole books have been written about.Finally he has a few pages on dealing with our disappointment with ourselves - coming to terms with life, as facing death asks us to do. He urges us to be gentle with ourselves, accepting that there will be some regret without losing sight of the good we have done. And to the extent that we have had some failure, he reminds us this opens a door to empathy with others, since nearly everyone feels some falling short of their hopes for life. I think that is a profound insight - whole books have been written on that topic alone.
Yes, I think that's the right way to frame his intent. All in all I think he has made a substantial contribution along those lines. It's very true that the new atheism has shunned compassion - their general approach to people's argument that religion meets their emotional needs seems to be "Don't like it? Tough luck," or "You're delusional."DWill wrote:My impression of what Lewis is trying to do in this chapter as well as in others is to supply a missing ingredient to the "new atheist" discussion. That discussion has always made a strong intellectual case against belief in a creator or managing God, but it has not shown very well how from an atheist view the emotional, and I would say spiritual, needs of people can be addressed. Compassion hasn't been a strong suit of the new atheism.
Once he has eliminated false sources of comfort, as being mainly dangerous set-ups for disappointment, failure or distraction from the real issues, he has some good words for people's ability to play a meaningful role in the lives of others. I would say Christianity and Judaism are moving in that direction, too. Like Lewis in his practice, they are not all that intent on tearing down people's beliefs, but the structure being put up builds very much on interpretations that emphasize our "ministering" to each other.DWill wrote:Now here is Lewis showing that the facts of our existence can be faced without leaving us bereft of the comfort and support that we all need to get through. We aren't all skilled psychiatrists, but we don't need to be in order to make people in troubles feel less alone and hopeless. I was impressed that Lewis emphasized what he gained from his work with Mabel. This isn't the wise doctor dispensing treatment, but a true relationship.
I can see how that might be an issue. Counter-transferance and all that sort of thing. I'm really glad you commented on this chapter, because this would have gone right by me. But you raise some challenging questions for the nature of therapy. Since positive human involvement is often the person's most critical need, how does the therapist arrange it without just "being human" with the person? It seems there is a serious lack in a therapeutic relationship that only has the therapist in a role of Parent (to borrow TA terms) or possibly Adult. Often person-to-person equal engagement seems it would be much more appropriate, and surely goes on a lot.DWill wrote: There is in therapy/counseling an injunction against the therapist meeting his own needs through the relationship, but I sense that Lewis would say that obeying such a precept could actually be bad for the person seeking help.
That seems like a good way to see it, for me. In traditional religious terms "spirit" plays both roles, imparting motivation and assuring some value for the effort undertaken. "Power" and "guidance" are the terms I grew up with. But meaning isn't mainly about being "well-guided" either, because it has to make sense for the person being motivated by it. This is actually quite interesting theologically - thanks for the reflection.DWill wrote:I'll go instead with meaning, significance, and value being in the same range. Purpose is like energy; it's needed to reap meaning but says nothing about whether meaning is captured.
That doesn't sound like quite the way I would have put it, but generally the idea that I have. The notion of common endeavor, such as the beauty of ballet or the thrill of a really well-executed play in sports, can broaden this beyond some sense that we are acting purely for the good of others.DWill wrote:I think you may have said that meaning is something we can all agree on as a "good." It isn't just what automatically comes from our purposeful action, but has qualities that have always been known, and these are part of what religion has enshrined. Meaning is most likely to be present when we're acting on others' behalf, not surprising given that we're preeminently social animals. Perhaps bees feel the same.
Actually we probably could intervene in every crisis and eliminate all the bad guys. Americans don't have the "stomach" for it, and we have for a long time put a priority on costing few lives when we make these sorts of interventions. Even WWII had enormous adjustments made to avoid squandering lives. We are reluctant to be full-on humanitarians with our military adventures, and that may be appropriate to the world's current state.DWill wrote:While I agree that abdication of responsibility might be a valid charge in certain cases, it is also true that we cannot intervene wherever a humanitarian crisis exists, at least not with troops. That might even apply to the UN. Almost all of us regret going into Iraq, but are we sure that had we not, many of us would not now be saying we should have used military force against Saddam? Colin Powell's original take on Iraq intervention--the Pottery Barn warning: if you break it, you own it--is worth heeding. We may forestall a serious problem, but this may not count or be recognized if other serious problems emerge from our involvement.
This matches with what I have seen in the popular press. Do you think it may mainly reflect our lack of anything tangible to offer addicts in the way of help? Sometimes we do, and it seems to me most of the moral judgment drops away pretty quickly in favor of applying solutions.DWill wrote:There is judgmentalism in therapy/counseling on this matter of choosing the response to hardship. Maybe Lewis is reflecting on that. Whereas it is widely accepted that addiction is not the person's fault, being less able to fight back is more likely to be held as a moral weakness.
It probably sounds funny coming from me, but I definitely think it is futile to pursue meaning like notches on the gunfighter's gun. Rather I see the effort to do meaningful things as entirely natural, and the point of thinking about meaning is to work out how to empower that seeking. Overdoing it is definitely possible, and a few people do. Putting a lot of guilt on oneself about it is also a problem. I think Lewis probably could have said more about that.DWill wrote:Or not to become too anxious that we don't have enough meaning in our lives! That quality, too, can be something by which we compare ourselves unfavorably to others, a special tendency in this Facebook age."don't expect too much," and don't ruin the time you have left with frustration or with determination to leave a legacy of good or to have every moment count.
Well I guess it's natural to aim for high standards, and not easy to recognize when we are being "harsh" about it. Many people I know aim to be their own harshest critic to "get there first" so others won't be criticizing them. Probably overdone, but not totally misguided, either. The Catholic ritual of confession offers some help for our self-criticism, since it definitely pronounces forgiveness and also assigns a sort of penance. I am currently quite enthused about the transformational potential of seeing one's failures as a bridge to other fallible people.DWill wrote:The current judgment, "It's all good," just about summarizes. If only we really believed it at the appropriate times. I'm sure that a large percentage of people Lewis treats feels that they've failed to achieve their potential in different ways. Why we are so insistent on being our own harshest critics is something that, as you say, whole books have been written about.to the extent that we have had some failure, he reminds us this opens a door to empathy with others, since nearly everyone feels some falling short of their hopes for life. I think that is a profound insight - whole books have been written on that topic alone.
I like how this chapter ends. I expect many of his patients feel like the walking dead.Fixating excessively on risk creates even greater risk - of unintended consequences (you most definitely can be too careful) and of impairment of functioning by anxiety. We have no choice but to get out there and get on with our lives. When death comes for us, let it find us among the living.