Why God does not exist, or the subtle question of negative theology

If you frequently read my posts, you've probably already noticed this quote from one of my favorite thinkers several times:
"Deus itaque nescit se quid est, quia non est quid." "God does not know what thing he is, because he is not a thing."
John Scotus Eriugena
I dare hope that this quote strikes many minds. No, I'm not an atheist... although. I call to the stand the great Simone Weil:
"Case of true contradictories. God exists, God does not exist. Where is the problem? I am quite certain that there is a God, in the sense that I am quite certain that my love is not illusory. I am quite certain that there is no God, in the sense that I am quite certain that nothing real resembles what I can conceive when I pronounce this name. But that which I cannot conceive is not an illusion."
"Between two men who have no experience of God, the one who denies him may be closest to him. The false God who resembles the true one in everything, except that one does not touch him, forever prevents access to the true one. To believe in a God who resembles the true one in everything, except that he does not exist, for one is not at the point where God exists."
"Religion as a source of consolation is an obstacle to true faith: in this sense atheism is a purification. I must be atheist with the part of myself that is not made for God. Among men in whom the supernatural part of themselves is not awakened, atheists are right and believers are wrong."
Simone Weil, Purifying Atheism
Why do we say that God exists and that he doesn't exist? Why, as the quotes indicate, do we dare say that he is, then that he is not? I'm going to address here a theme that is quite complex. It's a theme very present in John Scotus Eriugena, Thomas Aquinas, Meister Eckhart, as well as the Spanish mystics of the 16th century (Teresa of Avila and John of the Cross), but extending much further: I'll try to be clear and succinct, but the subject is difficult.
If you're a non-believer and you're reading these lines, I partially agree with you: God is not. God does not exist. Let's not be afraid of words. It's good to confront one's beliefs with reality. And I don't think I'm wrong in affirming that God is not.
Why am I repeating myself here? I'm going to call to the stand a philosophical theologian extremely important in the history of the Church, whom I invite you to read. He is for me the model of what I would like to be one day, if I manage to successfully integrate faith and reason as much as possible. Our man in question is Saint Thomas Aquinas, and he has such importance for me that I cannot reduce him to a simple note here in this meager post; he will be the subject of a proper presentation.
It's interesting to ask whether God can be named. Indeed, how can one name God without sacrificing his transcendence? How can the content of revelation, which affirms that God is absolute transcendence, therefore incommunicable, render itself in language, a source of intellectualization? Any form of language and naming pushes toward a certain mastery of the named object, calling upon it to distinguish it from the rest and summon it. Where is divine transcendence?
Let's simply look at what Saint Thomas calls knowledge of God. He discerns four types:
1°) Knowledge "per modum causalitatis" (by means of cause and effect)
This is the means that allows knowing God from his creation, by induction. This path is often denied by Protestant theologians, for whom Original Sin has damaged Man's rational capacities. The Catholic Church, on the contrary, affirms this position, which allows knowing certain qualities of God: God is simple, pure act, unique, infinite, eternal, intelligent, loving and endowed with volition.
2°) Knowledge "per modum eminentiae" (by way of eminence)
Here, we indicate the possibility of knowing God through the qualities found in beings, considering them as more perfect, greater. We speak here of cataphatic theology1, because it's a theology that uses positive terms to describe God. We proceed by affirming what God is and strive to arrive at knowledge of God by enumerating his positive characteristics: perfect light, uncreated truth, measure of the true, infinite love, etc.
3°) Knowledge "per modum essentiae" (by way of essence)
There's a third mode addressed by Saint Thomas, called "per modum essentiae" (by way of essence), which is the means of knowledge by direct contemplation, in Heaven. The infinite Essence of God will be seen face to face by our intelligence.
I've deliberately paused before addressing the fourth mode of knowledge, because it's interesting to stop for a moment: let's dare to ask the question, can God be named? This fundamental difficulty comes, in the three monotheistic religions, from a contradiction between the content of revelation (the absolute transcendence of God, incommunicable) and its form (language, means of communication and source of intellection): how can one name God without sacrificing his transcendence? It's clear that any form of naming implies a certain mastery of the addressee, that it allows calling him in the double sense, that is to say both to distinguish him from the rest and to summon him. Isn't this then denying divine transcendence?
Then comes a very important mode named by Saint Thomas, the negative way.
4°) Knowledge "per modum negationis" (by the method of exclusion)
This is a radical mode of knowledge: we will deny in God everything that is limited on Earth. For example, we are finite, God is in-finite; we can only love with fragility, his love is perfect, etc. We then speak of negative knowledge, or apophatic theology2.
Indeed, this approach shows the limits of language in naming God: if the latter is transcendent, he is therefore beyond all thought, concept and language. Pushed to the radical form, it gives a theology without God; although the negation of God betrays the latter: such God implies such negation, just as such negation implies such God. It's interesting here to clearly set the boundaries of what can be affirmed, and what must be denied: are the perfections we apply to God (being, beauty, goodness, wisdom, etc.) correct, that is to say, do they reach God in his truth, or must they be surpassed? Are we dealing with discourse and speculative discourse, or must we return to a mystical union of the ineffable?
The current is not modern, and the negative way is not recent3. It's common today to say "such and such argument shows that God does not exist", or conversely "such and such argument shows that God exists"; yet neither Kant nor Heidegger truly innovated in this matter4. Its origin goes back to Plotinus, for the Neoplatonists, Maimonides in Jewish theology, or Dionysius in the Christian tradition. Taken up by Nicholas of Cusa, Meister Eckhart and Albert the Great, during the medieval period, Thomas Aquinas made a true synthesis of it in his work on the Divine Names. The Buddhists invented nothing5!
Let us dare, in the manner of Thomas, paraphrasing Plotinus, to say that "Of God, we do not know what he is but only what he is not". For Saint Thomas, God is outside our knowledge, his essence exceeds us: however, we know that we are ignorant of what it is. God is "completely unknown" to us, this eternal "Other" to think only as Levinas does. God is known to us, certainly, but as Unknown. For Thomas, this allows affirming together the cataphatic truths (by modum causalitis), the conceptual ignorance of what they designate (understanding of God by negation), and the designation of unknowing in terms of what is known. Even Descartes, though Cartesian, sometimes poses the question of the infinite: the infinite is not something great, it's by definition something that is not finite, without bounds.
We can take up the vision of John Scotus Eriugena cited at the beginning, and understand it better through Foussard's analysis: "it's therefore not by failure that God ignores what he is, it's simply because he is nothing defined."
Likewise,
"when we say that God is (Deum esse dicentes), we don't mean that God is according to a determined modality (non aliquo modo esse dicimus) [...]. For God escapes the comprehension of all reason and all intellect, and when we predicate Being of him (praedicantes ipsius esse), we don't mean that God would himself be Being (non dicimus ipsum esse): for Being proceeds from God (ex ipso enim esse), but God himself is not Being (sed non ipsum esse)."
To such a point that the notion of creation ex nihilo induces a profound contemplation
"for we believe that God created all existing things from nothing (de nihilo omnia fecisse); but what nothing are we speaking of, if not of Him who [...] is not without reason called a Nothing by eminence (non irrationabiliter per excellentiam nihil esse dicitur), since one can in no way count him among all beings (quoniam in numero omnium quae sunt nullo modo collatur)."
It's often a way, paradoxically, of seeking God while being certain (well, almost) of finding him. God is absent, in everything, and it's often through this lack that we perceive him best. The image of the believer is often posed as a happy human, certain of finding happiness (often accused of being illusory) in hope; which is far from the case: certainly, one goes through trials with a certain hope, but moments of doubt and absence are often strong. Yet, and this is what I'm personally convinced of, that one finds God better in his absence. One should not seek to believe "to reassure oneself", because that brings nothing more than the good of a ready-made thought, a more or less affirmed confirmation bias.
The act of believing is not trivial. God withdrew from the world, and it takes a certain courage to pose the question. One often prefers to avoid the problem, for lack of data, and to stick to saying, in the manner of Coluche, "I'm neither for nor against, quite the contrary!".
Yet, as Simone Weil said, today we only perceive knowledge as an active mode, in conquest, almost bellicose, through physicochemical phenomena and natural laws; without knowing how to inhabit it. The cosmos appears hostile to us, without possibility of peace. And yet, no matter what we do, we always focus on something we judge good6, to seek a meaning to our life. This amounts, for Weil, to "a choice only between the worship of the true God and idolatry".
It's in this sense that atheism is a cure. Yes, atheism is purifying: we must not believe in God to reassure ourselves, take concepts here and there that please us, and build an idol to reassure ourselves. A God who pushes us to float outside existence rather than anchoring us in it can only be a product of fear, and not of truth.
Because belief in God is difficult: misfortune, the implacable mechanics of the laws of our world, despair and pain, all this refutes God. Speak of God to one who has lost everything, and you'll see
"Misfortune makes God absent for a time, more absent than a dead person, more absent than light in a completely dark dungeon. A kind of horror submerges the whole soul. During this absence there is nothing to love. What is terrible is that if, in these shadows where there is nothing to love, the soul ceases to love, the absence of God becomes final. The soul must continue to love in the void, or at least to want to love, even with an infinitesimal part of itself. Then one day God comes to show himself to it and reveal to it the beauty of the world, as was the case for Job. But if the soul ceases to love, it falls from here below into something almost equivalent to hell."
Even Jesus, crucified, at the moment of expiring, also comes to be afraid: "Father, why have you forsaken me?", just before withdrawing from the world: again, there is absence, lack, abandonment.
God, as a transcendental power in the world, is much simpler, much "smaller" than anything... while being greater than everything. Only what is fragile is immensely powerful: only what is alive can die, only what thinks can stop thinking. To quote only Augustine, speaking of God, "you were more intimate than my innermost self, and higher than my highest".
God made himself absent. God is absent, God is not, God does not exist, God helps no one, God is useless, God does not love. God is not, God does not exist. God does not exist, God is not, God is no more, God never was. One can repeat it as much as one wishes. Let's say it: God is absent. Let's dare: God is only a useless concept. God is not, God is not, there is no God. Let's dare more: there is no God.
The first Christians were accused of atheism, denying the erroneous concepts that the pagans attributed to them:
"That is why we are called atheists. Yes indeed, we confess it, we are the atheists of these so-called gods, but we believe in the most true God, father of justice, wisdom and other virtues, in whom nothing evil is mixed."
Justin Martyr, in the 2nd century.
Phew, "thank God, I'm an atheist"! Yes... but atheist in the face of which God? As a Catholic, I hope to bear witness to it: faith is not immobility. God is not existing7, nor an essentiating. No, negative theology is a strong path of understanding, which pushes the Christian faith out of the quiet fatherism of good conscience and immobility. It's a permanent questioning. And there's nothing worse than honoring a false image of God: a god of the gaps, a utilitarian god, a god of fear, an indifferent god, a fabricating god, a god justifying our choices, an architect god, a clockmaker god, or worse, a god that is oneself.
God is immensely accessible, but we can only see him like the Moon lit by the Sun, on pain of burning our eyes. So, let's darken the sky to better see what illuminates. Let's learn to rid ourselves of our "idol factory", Nietzsche's very apt vision, through a true apophatic approach. Every time we speak of God, we must be both cataphatic, to say something, and apophatic, to limit the scope of our discourse:
- let us silence in ourselves the passions and anxieties8;
- until the inner silence where we will carry these anxieties;
- let us open our heart to a pure "loving" that is not "possessing"; let us die to ourselves, and exist with others, possessed by God.
So... What to say, to end this post? Well, that I think I've finished a first approach to negative theology, which falls silent to better listen. All that remains for me is to carry this silence. I'm going to be quiet, and leave the last word to Meister Eckhart.
Truth is something so noble that if God could turn away from it, I would keep the Truth and leave God. But God is the truth. Eckhart von Hochheim
Notes
From Greek καταφασις (kataphasis, "affirmation").
From the Greek substantive ἀπόφασις, apophasis, derived from the verb ἀπόφημι – apophēmi, "to deny".
One can go back at least to Clement of Alexandria, one of the Church Fathers.
Already, the Desert Fathers (4th century) were wary of using the phrases "God exists" and "God does not exist".
I invite you to read "The Monk and the Lama", co-written by Frédéric Lenoir and Mgr. Robert Le Gall o.s.b.
In the sense of the Good.
Existing comes from archaic Latin exsistere, i.e. ex + sistere, literally meaning to be outside oneself, outside of essence.
Anxieties, that which tightens the throat.
Sources
- Simone Weil, The Love of God and Affliction.
- Simone Weil, Purifying Atheism.
- Jean-Claude Foussard, Non aaprentis apparitio: the theophanisme of John Scotus Eriugena.
- John Scotus Eriugena, Expositiones in Ierarchiam cœlestem.
- John Scotus Eriugena, Periphyseon.
- Emmanuel Falque, John Scotus Eriugena: theophany as mode of phenomenality.
- A documentary on what negative theology is
- Conference by Father Thierry Magnin