But even at this stage it is possible to save natural trust. I said in the second chapter that the naturalist will accept the immanent god here. Perhaps now he would suit us? Do we need a God there, supernatural, outside of our system? (Notice, reader, how much easier it will be for you. It is this God there that seems primitive and ridiculous and repulsive to you.

I'm afraid you've calmed down early. A universal consciousness, which arose as a result of a special correlation of atoms, could certainly think and suggest thoughts to us. But, unfortunately, his thoughts would have been the fruit of unreasonable causes; and in itself it would be, like our reason, a part of nature. So our difficulty would have remained in force. It will disappear if we accept an eternal, primordial, self-sufficient universal consciousness. But this is the transcendent, supernatural God.

Thus, there is a God who is outside of nature. But we do not yet know whether He created it. Perhaps both of them are "on their own", independent of each other? If you hold this view, you are a dualist, which I think is more reasonable and trustworthy. There are many things worse than dualism; But dualism is not an option either. It is inconceivably difficult to imagine two things simply coexisting. We do not always notice this, because we think in pictures and it seems to us that they are side by side in some space. But if they were in the same space, or in the same time, or in some common environment, they could be recognized as elements of one system, that is, of a certain "nature." Even if we expel all images from consciousness, consciousness itself will be this general environment. The mind does not contain pure coexistence. And now we do not need it, because we know that it is the mind that is the meeting place of God and nature.

Things on this border are very complicated. The scout of the extra-natural, the mind, is so closely connected with natural feelings and sensations that we call it all together by the single word "I." In addition, as we already know, relationships are asymmetrical: when the natural states of the brain prevail over the mind, they only create chaos; when the mind dominates, neither the brain, nor the sensations, nor the senses cease to be themselves. Reason saves and strengthens both the psyche and physiology; and they, in opposing it, destroy both reason and themselves. The image of the spear is untrue, the mind is not a weapon; rather, it is a ray that illuminates the darkness. Reason is not an invader invading a foreign land, but a king visiting his subjects. Subjects may rebel, but when we see them in agreement, we involuntarily feel that obedience is much more inherent in them, as if they were made for this role.

It is absurd to believe that nature gave birth not only to God, but also to our minds. It is impossible to imagine nature and God simply coexisting—the very first attempt undermines the very possibility of thinking. There is a theological appeal in dualism, it would greatly facilitate everything, but it will not fulfill its promises; And the problem of evil, it seems to me, can be solved better. It remains to assume that God created nature. None of the contradictions discussed above arise here. Only this view is consistent with the fact that nature is not so much rational as intelligible – any events in time and space are amenable to reason. Even the act of creation does not present us with insoluble difficulties, there is also something remotely similar in our consciousness: we ourselves imagine, bring to life pictures, objects, characters and events. Of course, there is a difference; first, we only reconstitute what already exists (no one can invent, say, a fourth basic color or a sixth sense); Secondly, all the new reality is in our consciousness, and we only convey it inaccurately and incompletely to others. God, on the other hand, creates everything new and creates the real. He did not give birth to a new color, but color in general; Not the sixth sense, but the senses themselves, and time, and space, and everything in the world. Such an assumption, in my opinion, is not difficult to accept. At any rate, it is easier than the idea that God and nature are not connected in any way, and it is much easier than the idea that nature produces trustworthy thoughts.

It is more difficult to rigorously prove the creation of nature than the existence of God. But it is very, very likely. It is rare to meet a person who believes in a God who is external to nature, and does not believe in this. No philosophical theory has improved on anything important the opening words of Genesis: "In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth." I say "in something important" because, as Jerome noted long ago, this book is written in the spirit of a "folk singer," i.e., in our language, in the spirit of folklore. But if we compare it with other legends about the creation of the world — all these wondrous absurdities, where giants are cut to pieces and rivers are dried up even before creation, the depth and uniqueness of the Jewish legend will be revealed to us. Only it reflected the idea of creation in the strict sense of the word.

V. ANOTHER COMPLEXITY OF NATURAL TRUST

Even a strict determinist like Marx, who sometimes described the social behavior of the bourgeoisie as if it were physics, suddenly expressed a deep contempt that only a belief in moral responsibility can justify.

R. Niebuhr. Interpretation of Christian ethics. 1. 1. 3.

Those who think logical thinking is the driest of our manifestations will be grieved that I give it such a privileged place. But I had to base my arguments on it, because of all the possible claims of our inner life, only the idea of the special value of reason is the one that the naturalist is unable to dispute without cutting his own throat. You can, if you wish, regard all ideals as illusions and love as waste of biology without contradicting yourself or falling into absurdity. (True, a picture of the world arises, in which, perhaps, no one believes, but this is another matter.) And it is impossible to prove that there is no evidence.

We don't just think about things; We make moral judgments: "This is good," "This is bad," "I must," "This cannot be done." There are two views on such judgments. Some believe that we are using some special force here; others believe that it is still the same mind. I hold the second point of view, that is, I believe that the basic moral principles, on which all others depend, are comprehended by reason. We "merely see" that there is no reason to sacrifice the happiness of our neighbor to our happiness, just as we see that two magnitudes equal to a third are equal to each other. We cannot prove either axiom, not because they are unreasonable, but because they are self-evident and all proofs depend on them. Their inner intelligence shines with its own light. It is precisely because morality stands on such self-evident foundations that we, calling a person to virtue, say to him: "Come to your senses."

But all this is so, by the way; We will talk about something else. Now it does not matter to us which of the two views is correct. It is important that moral judgments put the naturalist in the same impasse as all others. In arguing about morality, we, as in any dispute, consider arguments to be devalued if they are due to non-moral or unreasonable reasons. We often hear: "He believes in the sanctity of property because he is a millionaire," "He is a pacifist because he is a coward," "He is in favor of corporal punishment because he is a sadist." Often these suspicions are wrong, but all that matters to us is that one side puts them forward and the other vehemently refutes them; Both believe that they would nullify the dispute. In our actual life, no one will attach the slightest value to a moral judgment if it can be proved that it is due to an extra-moral factor. It is on this basis that both Freudians and Marxists attack conventional morality with such success.

That which devalues a particular judgment must also devalue any moral judgment in general. If the ideas of right and wrong are explained by unreasonable and immoral causes, these ideas are an illusion. A naturalist will be happy to explain how it came to be. Some chemical processes gave rise to life. Life under the pressure of natural selection gave rise to consciousness. Conscious organisms that behave in a certain way live longer than others. Heredity, and sometimes upbringing, pass on to descendants their skills. Each type creates its own model of behavior. In humans, conscious learning plays a big role; In addition, the tribe strengthens itself by killing the disobedient. Finally, it invents gods who punish disobedience. Over time, a strong impulse will take hold, which tells you to subordinate your behavior to someone else's interests. But he clashes with other impulses, and a moral conflict arises: "I want to do A, but I have to do B."