A clash of beliefs
Turning to the Gospel according to Harvard's preacher
Along about this time of year, the Observer ventures into the wilds of Cambridge to chat with Peter Gomes. He is, on the subject of Christianity, a font of knowledge, humor, and edge. The man carries more titles than the king of Spain, but in plain English, he is Harvard's preacher. Has been for more than 30 years.
The Rev. Gomes has a new book out called "The Scandalous Gospel of Jesus." Feisty title, but as a dreaded secular humanist, I don't have a dog in that fight.
However, I recently stumbled on "The Little Book of Atheist Spirituality" that buoyed my spirits no end. While this manifesto contains nothing particularly new, it stands as a refreshing breath of foul air against the irritating piety of religious tomes that blow onto the scene in droves.
Armed with both texts, I went calling on Gomes last week. Upon learning the title of the atheist tract, he said, without missing a beat, "Of course it's a little book." He held it in his hands and added, "It is very light, isn't it?"
I asked him if he believes in heaven and hell. "I don't have a better explanation for a future of misery or a future of joy," he replied. "Heaven and hell are fine metaphors for me. It is in my interest to stay out of hell."
But could he contemplate the possibility that there might be nothing?
"I don't think I could," he said. "My whole system of justice is that, ultimately, there is an accounting. Eventually the wicked will be punished and the virtuous rewarded. I don't choose to believe it. I have to. I can't believe the universe is sheer chance and sheer chaos. I don't trust chaos. I don't trust chance, and I can't trust human effort because I've seen what it does.
"The atheist appears to be able to do it on his or her own," he continued. "I can't. I need help. I need the whole ball of wax. I'm not the Dalai Lama. I can't sit, legs akimbo, and wait for good things to come out of me. They won't."
But, of course, Gomes is skeptical in the extreme that we heathen do it on our own. "I don't know what a good atheist is," he says. "There may be something that's helping you along the way. You have no idea whether you're doing it by yourself." Either way, he said affably, "You're good for business."
Despite great charm and humor, Gomes, 65, remains an implacable, if tolerant, foe of atheists, and he claims we will always be the odd folks out at the table.
"You see, a total negative has no positive energy," he argues. "You can stamp your feet like Christopher Hitchens and the rest. They throw culture tantrums, but the very fact of the tantrum suggests they've already had to concede much of the territory."
Balderdash. We're not total negatives at all. We're total positives who happen to reside off his reservation. We strive to live by the same ethics and moral behavior that believers do, and come up short no more than they do - maybe less for all I know. We simply don't buy what he's selling.
Believer or atheist, it all boils down to what my friend Jimmy says: "Do the right thing when no one's looking."
And since we don't buy into the hereafter, we don't wait for it either. As Andre Comte-Sponville, author of the atheist tract, writes: "We are already in the Kingdom. Eternity is now."
Horsefeathers, responded Gomes. "That's a pleasant aphorism, but I don't buy it. If this is eternity, I feel I've been cheated. I want something better than this. Eternity is not now. The clock is ticking. Your days are numbered."
Gomes saved his best shots for his colleagues: "I think church leaders are guilty of not challenging their flocks enough," he maintained. "They're guilty of suggesting the ultimate point of religion is comfort and consolation when it's really faithfulness and engagement.
"The trouble with that kind of religion is it tends to enforce who we already are," he said. "It doesn't raise any new challenges. It confirms our fundamental convictions.
"As a result," he continued, "the religious avoid what they don't want to hear: 'Who you are is not good enough. What you're doing is not good enough. The world you're trying to create is not good enough.' If they hear that in their churches, they'll leave and go to a church where they don't hear that, or they won't go to church at all."
What religions have forgotten, he said, are the two most fundamental tenets - modesty and charity: "Modesty in the sense that I don't know all there is to know. I might be wrong. And charity in the sense that I should treat everybody with a charitable disposition on the off-chance they're right. These are not qualities you see at church today."
His faith extends across the pond to the River Thames. Gomes was named preacher to the Henley Royal Regatta in England this year - a great gig where he rode in a launch on the river with other poohbahs to observe the rowing competition.
He watched with delight as the Harvard varsity eight won its race decisively. "When we got to the dock," he recalled, "I told them, 'I hope you boys don't think you did this on your own.' "
Sam Allis's e-mail address is allis@globe.com 