Published in Psychologies Magazine in January 2006 —
Abel Ferrara's film "Mary" has sparked discussion and questions in our editorial team. Childhood beliefs, adult conversions... what is this faith that speaks to some and leaves others indifferent? Frédéric Lenoir, philosopher of religions, sheds light on this call to transcendence.
Psychologies: You saw Abel Ferrara's film with us. What inspired you?
Frédéric Lenoir: This film interested me, but also moved me, because it explores, in a very sensitive way, different dimensions of religious faith. And from the outset, 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, in a more emotional than rational way, 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 his parents. It is this adherence of his whole being to people he believes in that allows him to abandon himself and grow. From this first experience, man will retain some form of faith throughout his life. This can obviously be about God, but for many people, it doesn't have a religious connotation: it can be faith in an ideal, in man, in life... Throughout the 19th century, people who left churches believed in progress, and their faith was a driving force of civilization. Until recently, people had faith in their homeland and could die for it. To move forward in life, everyone needs, with more or less intensity, to have faith in something or someone who transcends them. Religious faith is simply the transposition of this existential driving force towards a superior being or a supernatural order.
For some, the transposition is radical! Mary, in the film, is gripped by a torrid faith, which leads her to change her life...
Yes, this actress will be totally fascinated by her role as Mary Magdalene. Through identification, her nascent faith leads her to break with all her landmarks and settle in Jerusalem. Through her, Ferrara explores in a certain way the figure of the mystic, the one who is carried away by a personal, radical experience, an encounter with the divine. Moreover, the film clearly shows that the character of Mary lives a paradoxical experience, structuring and destructuring, luminous and chaotic. 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, live their faith as a reassurance and a need for certainty.
In "The Metamorphoses of God" (Hachette, "Pluriel", 2005), you precisely address the personal discovery of religious faith among more and more of our contemporaries...
For a long time, this faith was framed by family traditions and institutions. We "inherit" 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 we adhere without question. Even today, this model still 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 hear more and more individuals say: "I found my faith again after losing it in adolescence." The modern religious subject intends to choose "their" religion. Some return to their original religion, but with a critical spirit: they keep certain elements, discard others; others convert to a different spirituality that speaks to them more.
Ted, another character in the film, finds faith after a trial. Is this common?
Yes, it's a common experience. When illness suddenly strikes, a loved one dies, or we are gripped by anxiety, we enter a church, pray, and wonder. But faith in God can also be reawakened by a positive event: we suddenly feel unified, we have a sense of fulfillment, we are struck 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 a transformation?
For many, in fact, the discovery of religious faith is accompanied by an upheaval, what in Greek is called metanoia, a "turning around" of the being. They change their outlook on themselves and on life. Above all, they reorient their desire. Ted realizes that, deep down, he had wanted more to be with his wife than to succeed professionally. But he focused everything on his work, and therefore missed the point. Conversion leads to re-identifying one's true desire... Faith is always linked to our deepest desires. If I say I have faith in God, it is because I wish with all my heart that He exists. If I believe in eternal life, it is because I desire that there is life after death rather than nothingness. That, for me, is the difference between "faith" and "belief": the former is existential, it takes over the whole being, it is emotional. Whereas if I say: "I believe in extraterrestrials," that does not change my life in any way.
But if it is the fruit of a desire, isn't faith in God or in immortality an illusion?
Freud was convinced of this. As we mentioned at the beginning of this interview, the child has faith, an innate trust in his parents. But he will quickly realize that they are not all-powerful and cannot protect him from all the dangers that threaten him. He then feels what Freud calls a "dismay," a profound dismay. Rather than falling into psychosis, he will survive by unconsciously believing in benevolent supernatural forces. For Freud, there is therefore in every man a latent religious belief, which can subsequently be more or less activated depending on the circumstances of life. I don't know if his theory is well-founded or not. Ultimately, it seems secondary to me. If a person draws happiness, inspiration, generosity, courage from faith in God, even if it turns out that his faith is illusory, so much the better! For me, the criterion of a successful life is meaning and love. The essential thing is not to know whether one acts in the name of a religious faith, or a secular faith or reason, but rather to ask oneself whether our life has meaning or not, whether it opens us to the happiness of communion with others or not. Therefore, in my opinion, it does not matter whether one believes in God or is completely atheist.
Published in Psychologies Magazine in January 2006