Over the weekend, my wife and I watched Creation, a BBC film centered around the life of Charles Darwin. It takes place after his voyages on The Beagle, but before his publication of On the Origin of Species. I’m no scientific historian. I can’t speak to the entire historical accuracy of the film, but what little I know seems to jibe with it. Of course, we can’t know what was going on in Darwin’s head, but the story makes plausible enough assumptions in order to tell its story.
Paul Bettany as Charles Darwin, in this excellent BBC film from 2009.
Charles Darwin mourns the loss of his first daughter, Annie, eldest sibling of four. Of all the children, no one was more like him. Her loss dealt a blow to his faith, and, in the time that followed, found Darwin unable to let go. The distance between he and his family steadily grew.
By film’s end, his pious wife, Emma, bemoans this distance and his reluctance to move on. His retort is that she is guilty of the very same thing, only it takes place on a cloud. The rift between his deepened understanding of evolution’s forces and her still-strong faith proves almost irreconcilable. But only almost.
The story is about loss and the life that follows loss, all in the face of life’s inscrutable purpose, and it’s a damned good film.
Darwin had no interest in killing God. In his heart, he wanted to hold on to his faith, but his observations challenged the established dogma of the Church. His observations burrowed into dark places where he took little comfort, but he grew to appreciate the variety in nature and make a sort of peace with that. At film’s end, he got something back. It was continuance – faith after a fashion.
But faith is a term pre-loaded with all sorts of baggage. We see in it what we desire; it’s pliable enough. That’s either its strength or its weakness. I have yet to figure it out. Maybe we need a new word. How about Coraith or something.
Almost unthinkable
Yesterday, along with my wife and son, I attended a church service for the first time in decades. It’s of the Unitarian Universalist variety, so it’s leagues away from the churches I attended in youth. It’s deeply inclusive, lacks a creed, but professes strong values. When atheists are welcome, you know you’ve found a pretty tolerant community.
Anyway, by the end of the weekend I realized a truth in something I have often stated: there is a profound difference between faith and religion. The two are found together often enough, but it’s not a requirement. That’s never been more clear to me and falls under the heading of things you know without really knowing them.
If faith is adherence to a particular doctrine, then I don’t have it. But that’s what Coraith is for. It’s my continuing to live even in the face of a ruthless, seemingly uncaring universe. When we find the strength to go on, that’s a kind of faith, too.
