by Ian Harris Otago
Daily Times Nov. 23, 2012
How come that you are here,
living in this time and place? Previously I suggested that the answer lies in
chance upon chance over scores of millennia, producing the mystery that is you.
Others, however, would put their existence down to fate or its grander cousin,
destiny.
Such a view once belonged
naturally within a religious view of life, flowing from the conviction in
ancient times that the gods, later supplanted by an all-wise and all-seeing
God, must have a purpose for each of his creatures and tribes. Our human role
was to accept whatever life served up as the gods’ (or God’s) will. Success or failure in an enterprise, health or
disability, death or survival after an accident, your life partner – there are
still people who assume that fate or destiny lie behind each of these.
Our language reflects that. We
may say of a marriage that it was “meant to be”. Faced with an incurable
disease, most people will “accept their fate”, usually because they have no
option. They can then either live as positively as they know how for as long as
they are able, or grow bitter at the unfairness of their fate.
Before a sick or an old person
dies we may say their life is “hanging by a thread”. That taps into a
fate-laden image in Greek mythology of three crones, or “Fates”, who controlled
everyone’s destiny from birth to death. Clotho spun the thread of each person’s
life on to her spindle, Lachesis allotted length of life by measuring the
thread, and Atropos chose the manner of death, cutting the thread when life had
run its course.
Soldiers in battle face the
prospect of “their number being up”, or a bullet “having their name on it”.
Behind those phrases lies the notion, here tipping over into fatalism, that
events are beyond our control and nothing we can do will change the outcome –
which sometimes will be true. Literature is laden with fate. Romeo and Juliet
are “a pair of star-cross’d lovers”. In Tess of the D’Urbervilles, Hardy’s
“President of the Immortals” sports cruelly with Tess.
Fatalism gains religious force
when people believe God has both a plan for each person’s life and the means to
ensure it happens. Every event, good or bad, is then seen as God’s will, and the
role of his creatures is to submit in obedience and humility. The more a life
or event is thought to be pre-destined, however, the more helpless each of us
will feel, and the less responsible for the way events turn out.
On a larger scale, does anyone think
that wars and their outcomes are pre-determined by God? Or that the position of
the stars influenced the wheelers and dealers whose machinations triggered the
global financial crisis in 2008?
Hardly. Men in high places took
the decisions that culminated in war and meltdown, and it was totally within
their power to choose otherwise. In this secular age nothing, but nothing, is
bound to happen because the stars or a divine puppeteer ordain it.
Humans now realise they control
their own destiny to an extent unknown before. We cannot plead diminished
responsibility by reason of fate, destiny or divine will. Responsibility for
human affairs, and even for the future of the planet, lies squarely in human
hands.
All these modulations of fate
and destiny are evidence of the basic human impulse to find meaning in our
experience, and all flow from a pre-secular way of seeing the world. They point
to a hidden power and purpose, positive or sinister, behind every event. Fate
and fatalism have a negative bias, while destiny is usually more positive: you
suffer fate passively, but you participate actively in your destiny. We may say
it was Abraham Lincoln’s destiny to save the union of American states, but it
was his fate to be assassinated after the civil war was won.
Since ideas of fate and destiny
depend on belief in supernatural forces and beings, it is difficult for anyone
fully at home in our secular world to take them seriously – though zodiac
charts, horoscopes, tarot cards and crystal balls show that some people still
do.
Embracing any of these implies
a belief or practice for which there is no longer any rational basis, however
credible they must have seemed according to the lore of former times. Today
they have shriveled into superstition. People grounded in this secular century
will happily let them go, and accept the responsibility which is properly their
own.
http://www.odt.co.nz/opinion/opinion/236088/faith-and-reason-our-lives-no-longer-written-stars