AND ANOTHER THING
Looking forward to the battle for God as the millennium looms
PAUL JOHNSON
0 ne of the most fascinating aspects of history is not so much the things that hap- pen as the things which obstinately refuse to happen. Seemingly irresistible forces suddenly come to an unexpected stop. Pow- erful trends evaporate. Crumbling relics survive. Yesterday's men go on, and on, and on. The great non-event of the 20th century was the Death of God. Late-19th- century intellectuals did not quite agree with Nietzsche that God was already dead, but they were fairly confident that he would be by the year 2000. During the 20th centu- ry they assumed that belief in God would largely disappear in the West and that only backward societies would retain religious `superstition'. Yet here we are at the end of what was supposed to be the first century of atheism, with God alive and well and reign- ing in the hearts of billions all over the world. Partly as a result of the growth of population, to be sure, more people believe in God today than in 1900. I don't doubt there are more agnostics too. What there are not more of are atheists. The number of those prepared to declare, flatly, that there is no God has actually declined since the heyday of organised atheism in the 1880s. It is characteristic of Oxford Univer- sity, the home of lost causes, that it has just appointed Richard Dawkins its first Profes- sor of Atheism.
Indeed, at the end of the 20th century, the prospects for God are excellent. It could turn out to be His century. In the 19th century we worshipped Progress. It was real, visible, fast-moving and on the whole beneficent. But it came to a judder- ing halt in the catastrophe of the first world war. The human race felt that Progress had let them down. They turned instead to Ide- ology — to communism, fascism, Freudian- ism and even darker systems of belief. The 20th century was the Age of Ideology just as the 19th century was the Age of Progress. But Ideology failed its human adherents too and finally came crashing down at the beginning of the 1990s. One thing history teaches about human beings is that they do not relish believing in nothing. A credal vacuum is abhorrent. It may well be that God, who had to struggle to survive in the 20th century, will fill the vacuum in the 21st and so become the residual legatee of those dead titans, Progress and Ideology.
I have been thinking about this prospect because I am about to publish a little book on God. The Quest for God: A Personal Pil- grimage is not, primarily a work of piety. It is an inquiry, and not a wholly successful one, as I am the first to admit. I wrote it to satis- fy what I think is a common need. When the conversation turns to what we believe in now, as it often does, and I ask people, `Do you believe in God?' the answer is usu- ally 'Yes'. But if I press the point and ask, `What exactly do you mean by that?' answer comes there none, or the query is pushed aside by a jest: 'These are deep waters, Watson' or 'I require notice of that question'. People do not like to say 'I don't know' or admit that they have put off pon- dering what they mean by God or by their acceptance of His existence. They fight shy of thinking about God just as they would prefer not to think about death — their own in particular. And .even if they try to think about God, they do not know how to do it. So I decided to write a book, sorting out my ideas about God, in the hope that reading it would help other people to sort out their ideas. I cover most of the difficult topics, such as who God is, why He created the universe, and how He runs it — if He does run it — and why He permits evil to flourish. I discuss animals and their possi- ble souls and the earth and its future, the chances of life on other worlds and how this would affect the notion of our God. I deal with the Four Last Things: death, judgment, hell and heaven, and, finally, with prayer, the most important subject of all, because it is our way of communicating with this mysterious Being.
Writing the book proved more difficult than I had imagined because I discovered areas of ignorance and bottomless depths of uncertainty within me. I thought I had most of the answers and found I had very few, and had to think everything out all over again and do a lot of reading. But I am glad I made the effort because I am now much clearer in my own mind than I was. I am stronger in faith too and, most of all, I take enhanced delight in the fact that, through all the vicissitudes of six decades, I have somehow managed to retain, virtually intact, the beliefs taught me by my parents. Faith in a just and all-powerful God is the greatest of gifts. We may wish to be born handsome or rich or clever or fascinating, but faith is a more valuable inheritance than any of these endowments. When I am in London at the weekend I attend the 11 o'clock mass at the Carmelite Friars in Kensington Church Street. It is a sung mass in Latin, with a simple homily, and the entire congregation takes communion Catholicism at its best and most pleasing. Afterwards I usually have coffee nearby with my old friend and fellow historian Antonia Fraser. We often say to each other, 'How lucky we are to be Catholics and have access to this unique spiritual sus- tenance.' It sounds like complacency but it is not, it is humble gratitude. Our faith is a suit of armour which, whether we deserve it or not, is a marvellous protection against the slings and arrows of the world. Within it we feel secure, warm, privileged.
I would like every human being to have a similar garment. I do not proselytise but I pray for the conversion of those I love and indeed for the whole world. And I am will- ing to take on, in fair debate, the paladins of the other side. If Richard Dawkins wants to argue with me about the existence of God, on Channel 4 or BBC 2 or Radio Three or any other public platform, I am ready to meet him. These are indeed deep waters, Watson, but we must all plunge into them sooner or later. I suspect that, as the millennium approaches, the religious fer- ment which has already begun will rise. Most religious revivals, such as the Great Awakenings in America, have sprung from the depths of society. Christianity itself started as a religion of the poor, of women, the underprivileged and outcasts. It may again be so this time, but I have a hunch it will be ignited — in this country at least among the higher classes, and among the intellectuals and the educated. So in my judgment we are in for an exciting time during the next few years, at the dawn of a century when God may come into His own again. The battle will be fierce and I shall be in the front line if I can.
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