Published in Psychologies Magazine in January 2006 —
Abel Ferrara's film "Mary" sparked discussions and questions in our newsroom. Childhood beliefs, adult conversions… what is this faith that resonates with some and leaves others indifferent? Frédéric Lenoir, a philosopher of religions, sheds light on this call to transcendence.
Psychologies: You saw Abel Ferrara's film with us. What inspired you about it?
Frédéric Lenoir: This film interested me, but also moved me, because it explores, in a very sensitive way, different dimensions of religious faith. And right away, I want to make a distinction that seems essential to me, between faith and religious faith. We all have a form of "faith," that is to say, we adhere viscerally, more emotionally than rationally, to an ideal, a person, a value, which is the driving force of our existence. I would define this fundamental faith as a mixture of belief, loving trust, and hope. It begins with the baby, who has total "faith" in its parents. It is this complete adherence of its being to people in whom it believes that allows it to surrender and grow. From this first experience, a person will retain some form of faith throughout their life. This faith can obviously be directed towards God, but for many people, it doesn't have a religious connotation: it can be faith in an ideal, in humanity, in life… Throughout the 19th century, people who left the churches believed in progress, and their faith was a driving force of civilization. Until recently, people had faith in their country and were willing to die for it. To move forward in life, everyone needs, with varying degrees of intensity, to have faith in something or someone that transcends them. Religious faith is simply the transposition of this existential drive towards a higher being or a supernatural order.
For some, the transposition is radical! Mary, in the film, is swept away by a fervent faith that leads her to change her life…
Yes, this actress is completely captivated by her role as Mary Magdalene. Through intense identification, her burgeoning faith leads her to break with all her familiar surroundings and settle in Jerusalem. Through her, Ferrara explores, in a way, the figure of the mystic, the one swept away by a radical, personal experience of encountering the divine. Indeed, the film clearly shows that Mary's character lives a paradoxical, structuring and destructive, luminous and chaotic experience. But this experience is always borderline, and the line between madness and mysticism is very porous. This experience can frighten those who, for their part, experience their faith as reassurance and a need for certainty.
In "The Metamorphoses of God" (Hachette, "Pluriel", 2005), you address precisely the personal discovery of religious faith among a growing number of our contemporaries…
For a long time, this faith was framed by family traditions and institutions. One "inherits" it by being born into a Jewish, Muslim, Hindu, Christian, etc., family. It is then an almost natural adherence to supernatural beliefs and rituals to which one adheres without questioning. Even today, this model dominates in most parts of the world. But in Europe, the most secularized continent on the planet, and therefore the most distant from religion, we increasingly hear people say, "I rediscovered my faith after losing it in adolescence." The modern religious individual seeks to choose "their" religion. Some return to their original religion, but with a critical eye: they keep certain elements, discard others; others convert to a different spirituality that resonates with them more deeply.
Ted, another character in the film, finds faith after an ordeal. Is this common?
Yes, it's a common experience. When illness suddenly strikes, a loved one dies, anxiety grips us, we go to a church, we pray, we question. But faith in God can also be awakened by a positive event: we suddenly feel whole, we have a sense of fulfillment, we are captivated by the beauty of a landscape or a romantic encounter. We then experience an immense feeling of gratitude toward the Absolute.
After their encounter with God, Mary and Ted change radically. Does faith always imply transformation?
For many, in fact, the discovery of religious faith is accompanied by a profound upheaval, what is called in Greek a metanoia, a "turning around" of the self. They change their perspective on themselves and on life. Above all, they redirect their desires. Ted realizes that, deep down, he had wanted to be with his wife more than to succeed professionally. However, he focused entirely on his work and therefore missed what was truly important. Conversion leads to a rediscovery of one's true desires… Faith is always linked to our deepest desires. If I say I have faith in God, it's because I wholeheartedly wish that He exists. If I believe in eternal life, it's because I desire life after death rather than oblivion. For me, this is the difference between "faith" and "belief": the former is existential, it encompasses one's entire being, it is emotional. Whereas if I say, "I believe in extraterrestrials," it doesn't change my life in the slightest.
But if it stems from desire, isn't faith in God or immortality an illusion?
Freud was convinced of this. As we discussed at the beginning of this interview, a child has faith, an innate trust in their parents. But they will soon realize that their parents are not all-powerful and cannot protect them from all the dangers that threaten them. They then experience what Freud calls "helplessness," a profound distress. Rather than succumbing to psychosis, they will survive by unconsciously believing in benevolent supernatural forces. For Freud, therefore, there is a latent religious belief in every person, which can subsequently be activated to a greater or lesser degree depending on the circumstances of their life. I don't know if his theory is sound or not. Ultimately, that seems secondary to me. If someone finds happiness, inspiration, generosity, and courage in faith in God, even if their faith turns out to be illusory, so much the better! For me, the criteria for a successful life are meaning and love. The essential thing is not whether one acts in the name of religious faith, or secular faith or reason, but rather to ask oneself whether one's life has meaning or not, whether it opens us to the joy of communion with others or not. Therefore, in my opinion, it matters little whether one believes in God or is a complete atheist.
Published in Psychologies Magazine in January 2006