Reclaiming Existential Theology: Part 2, Believing in God-Adjacent Things

Here at the start of this series I should illustrate what we mean by "existential theology." I'll use Paul Tillich as an example. 

A simple way to describe what Tillich was up to was that he attempted to replace metaphysics with human experience. The word "God," for example, could point to a Metaphysical Person or toward something within the human experience. Same with the word "salvation." "Salvation" could mean arriving at a Metaphysical Place (called heaven), or toward something within the human experience, like "the beloved community" or a place of spiritual, psychological, and relational wholeness. 

The idea here is that, in an increasingly secular and post-Christian world, belief in metaphysics is harder for us. Consequently, faith could be made easier if belief pointed toward things that were felt to be a little closer to home, closer to my lived experience. It might be hard to properly believe in God, but I can believe in some God-adjacent things. 

To illustrate this, here's a bit from Tillich, from his famous essay "The Lost Dimension in Religion" which appeared in the Saturday Evening Post in 1958:

The decisive element in the predicament of Western man in our period is his loss of the dimension of depth. Of course, "dimension of depth" is a metaphor. It is taken from the spatial realm and applied to man's spiritual life. What does it mean?

It means that man has lost an answer to the question: What is the meaning of life? Where do we come from, where do we go to? What shall we do, what should we become in the short stretch between birth and death? Such questions are not answered or even asked if the "dimension of depth" is lost. And this is precisely what has happened to man in our period of history. He has lost the courage to ask such questions with an infinite seriousness--as former generations did--and he has lost the courage to receive answers to these questions, wherever they may come from.

I suggest that we call the dimension of depth the religious dimension in man's nature. Being religious means asking passionately the question of the meaning of our existence and being willing to receive answers, even if the answers hurt. Such an idea of religion makes religion universally human, but it certainly differs from what is usually called religion. It does not describe religion as the belief in the existence of gods or one God, and as a set of activities and institutions for the sake of relating oneself to these beings in thought, devotion and obedience. No one can deny that the religions which have appeared in history are religions in this sense. Nevertheless, religion in its innermost nature is more than religion in this narrower sense. It is the state of being concerned about one's own being and being universally.

This passage illustrates what I mean by "existential theology." Notice, "being religious" here doesn't mean believing "in the existence of gods or one God." "Being religious" means, rather, "asking passionately the question of the meaning of our existence." 

In short, "being religious" means being existential. Tillich calls this existential interest in "one's own being and being universally" our "ultimate concern," a concern we engage with "infinite seriousness." 

I expect you can see here how this existential reframing of faith would be both attractive and controversial. The attraction is a very generous and inclusive vision of what we mean by "religion" and "faith." Since most people have at least some passing interest in the meaning of their lives, and seek answers to that meaning, pretty much everyone is religious. 

The controversial part should also be clear, at least for traditional and orthodox religious believers, as being interested in the meaning of life isn't quite the same as believing in, say, the divinity of Jesus, his resurrection from the dead, or the existence of God. Basically, while an existential faith might be very inclusive, it does so, in the eyes of many, by watering down faith to the degree that it is no longer recognizable. 

Because of these criticisms, as I said in the first post, many modern theologians have found Tillich and existential theology to be a dead end. And yet, I'd like to suggest going forward that what Tillich was doing is still very helpful, and often necessary. In an increasingly post-Christian world, where belief in God is harder and harder for many, sometimes God-adjacent experiences are precisely where we need to begin with people and ourselves. If so, theologians like Tillich are helpful in exploring God-adjacent experiences an increasingly post-Christian world.