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Before any epistemological inquiry, one must understand the psychological nature of religious experience. Hossein Dabbagh does not consider religious experience to be a kind of 'belief,' but rather an independent mental state akin to aesthetic appreciation—one that occurs involuntarily and explains religious beliefs, rather than making them true.

Philosophers and epistemologists of religion have so far spoken at great length about the epistemological validity of religious experience. This article, however, does not undertake that vast and lengthy discussion. In the author's belief, before addressing epistemological debates, one must attend to the psychology of religious experience in order to determine its nature. What kind of thing religious experience is and under which category of our mental states it falls can also assist us in epistemological discussions. In this article, I have argued that religious experience, whatever it may be, cannot be of the kind "belief." To regard religious experience as being among beliefs and to expect cognitive content from them is to cook up a misguided notion.
The title of this piece could also have been the psychology or phenomenology of religious experience. The discussion concerns what phenomenon religious experience resembles. What occurs when we undergo a religious experience? Or, in the terms of philosophers of mind, what mental state do we experience at such times?
It is recounted that Frithjof Schuon, one of the great figures of the Maryamiyya order, in 1965, while aboard a ship from Europe to Morocco, found his temperament altering, and shortness of breath and severe depression transformed his state. It was in this condition that a revelation drastically changed his life. In a religious experience, the Virgin Mary appeared to him naked; a feminine form that Schuon is incapable of describing. Schuon's connection with the Virgin Mary becomes so intimate that he declares it is not fitting for me to say more. Now Schuon becomes elated by this religious experience. Thereafter, by his own account, whenever he found the opportunity, he would practice nudity.[1] The Mary who did not reveal her nakedness to Gabriel and was abashed by that act now appears unveiled to Schuon:
A trembling fell upon Mary's limbs,
For she was naked and feared corruption.
As Mary became agitated for a moment,
Just like a fish upon the ground,
What has befallen Schuon that he has beheld the Virgin Mary in this manner? What state has overtaken him and what conditions have encompassed him that such a thought enters his mind and consciousness?[2]
In principle, two conceptions can be considered in response to this weighty question. One is to say that the mental state of religious experience is similar to the mental state of believing something. That is, when we say person A has undergone a religious experience with the content B, it is like saying person A believes B. In this conception, the person who undergoes a religious experience gains cognition of the object of their experience. In the example above, when Schuon, in his revelation, sees the Virgin Mary naked, he simultaneously believes that Mary has appeared to him unveiled. According to this conception, which I call the cognitive conception of religious experience,
Religious experience is the same as belief. When person A undergoes a religious experience with the content B, it is as if person A undergoes a belief in the content B.
But although the above conception is straightforward, an alternative conception can also be offered in response to what kind of thing religious experience is. In this alternative conception, religious experience has no cognitive aspect. That is, when person A undergoes a religious experience with the content B, it is not the case that they necessarily believe it. For instance, in Schuon's example, one can imagine that when the Virgin Mary appears to him naked, he does not believe that such a thing really occurred. In this conception, religious experience is an independent mental state that is not reducible to other mental states such as belief or sensory perception. I call this conception the non-cognitive conception of religious experience. According to this conception,
Religious experience is a kind of seeming[3]. In the sense that, at the moment and in the event of a religious experience occurring, something truly appears to us. When a religious experience with content B occurs, it seems that content B has occurred.
The obvious difference between belief and seeming is that belief in something is a phenomenon that voluntarily conquers the territory of thought. But a seeming involuntarily and suddenly captivates the heart. To better understand this claim, consider the Adelson test[4] shown below. In the left cylinder, square B appears lighter than square A. Yet this is not the case. The figure on the right clearly shows that we mistakenly have this perception, while squares A and B are the same color. This erroneous perception assails us so forcefully that even knowing these squares are the same color, we still do not see them as the same color.
As another example, consider the Müller-Lyer perceptual illusion (figure below). Imagine two parallel lines, one of which appears longer to you than the other. But when you measure them, you realize they are the same length. However, when you look at the parallel lines again, one still appears longer than the other. Even though you believe they are the same length, one seems longer. Seemings, like the perceptions resulting from these cases, are mental states that assail us and envelop us even if we do not seek them. Beliefs, in contrast, assail the external world from our side and at our command.[5]
Another difference between belief and seemings is that beliefs, insofar as they are cognitive, can be truth-apt. That is, they can pave the way for us to access the truth of matters. But seemings by no means possess such a characteristic. Structurally, they cannot bring us truth. Can one affirm that because something has appeared to me, it is therefore true? How can a seeming, which carries parts of our emotions, reveal the truth of matters? What seemings provide for us is an explanation of how we come to believe something through them.[6] If we consider beliefs to be "truth-makers"[7], seemings can be called "explainers"[8].
It is natural that different psychologies of religious experience lead to different epistemologies of religious experience. If one equates religious experience with belief, then to justify that religious experience (belief), one must also seek its specific epistemology. For example, according to the cognitive conception of religious experience, a religious experience can be said to be justified when it either corresponds to reality or is coherent with the rest of one's religious experiences.[9] Beliefs can not only justify something else but can also obtain their initial justification from something else, like sensory perception. But if we equate religious experience with seemings, our epistemology differs from the common epistemology. In this case, although seemings might be able to justify something else, since nothing is more foundational than them, they themselves are not justifiable. Seemings can explain why we believe something, but they cannot be justified by something else. The epistemology of seemings requires us to acknowledge that when matter B appears to us, the appearing of B justifies us, to a reasonable degree, in believing B unless a defeater overrides it and a superior reason for rejecting it is at hand.
Given the interpretations offered, one can claim that religious experiences cannot be both of the nature of belief and of the nature of seeming. How can a phenomenon be both voluntary and involuntary? Both truth-making and not? To show which of the two conceptions, cognitive or non-cognitive, is superior and prevails over the other, we need a separate argument. In my view, the cognitive conception of religious experience is invalid. Below, I attempt to argue that religious experience cannot be of the nature of belief. The reason is that one can conceive of religious experiences that, while being religious experiences, cannot be considered beliefs. My argument, which I call the argument from religious experience minus belief, is as follows:
First premise: If religious experience is of the nature of belief, then when person A undergoes a religious experience with content B, they are in fact experiencing belief in B.
Second premise: There are religious experiences that, while being experienced, do not necessarily result in belief in the content of the experience.
Third premise: Furthermore, there are religious experiences with content B that are experienced while the person holds a belief in the negation of B in their mind.
Conclusion: Religious experience cannot be of the nature of belief.
Is the above argument valid? Can the premises guarantee the conclusion? Setting aside the first premise, if it can be shown that religious experience is not necessarily identical with belief in the content of the religious experience, and that a religious experience with content B can coexist with a belief in the negation of B, then the argument succeeds.
Let us initially borrow from some moral experiences to clarify the discussion. Suppose Sara has a seeming that sexual relations between siblings are wrong. In other words, it appears to Sara that, always and necessarily, siblings should not have sexual relations with each other. However, after studying some ethical theories such as classical utilitarianism, classical contractarianism, or social relativism, she comes to the belief that sexual relations between siblings are not necessarily wrong. Thus, while it appears to Sara that sexual relations between siblings are necessarily wrong, her belief in this matter is not such.
Such a relationship can also hold true regarding religious experience. Imagine a Muslim person who, in a state of revelation, undergoes a religious experience. They see Jesus, son of Mary, gesturing towards them with his hand, beckoning them to come to him. Naturally, in these moments, although the object of this person's religious experience is an invitation from Jesus and conversion to Christianity, they do not believe in the content of their religious experience. For they believe in something else and are, in fact, a Muslim.
Religious experiences can also sometimes coexist with a belief in the negation of their content. Imagine a Muslim person (Shia) who, in their religious experience, sees Ali ibn Abi Talib as the recipient of revelation, while holding a belief in its negation. That is, they know that Ali ibn Abi Talib was not the recipient of revelation, and that Muhammad ibn Abdullah was the addressee and recipient. Although the seeming assails them that Ali ibn Abi Talib is the bearer of revelation, their belief, in accordance with their teachings, is that such a thing is false.
In addition to religious experiences, the above examples can also be extended to mystical and existential experiences. For instance, imagine a monotheist like Rumi, in his mystical experience, sees the world in such a way that it suddenly empties and is engulfed by its own absurdity:
What did I know that a flood would suddenly sweep me away
Like a ship cast into the midst of a blood-filled sea
A whale also raises its head, drinking that sea water
Such a boundless sea becomes waterless like a desert
Also, consider an atheist who, in an existential experience, suddenly finds the world appearing to them as full and replete. For example, in a fragment of his poetry, Mehdi Akhavan-Sales does not find the world deaf and blind and utters a skeptical cry: "O all existence from you, are you too existent?". At times when a person undergoes such experiences, even though the person does not believe in the content of their experience, the world presents itself to them in a different way. When Rumi said
One sees the moon plainly,
And another sees the world dark,
he likely had something like this in mind. For some, the world manifests in such a way that they see the moon plainly. For others, however, the world shows itself in a dark form.
Such examples multiply if we delve into the history of religious and mystical thought. Foremost among them is the Quranic narrative in Surah Yusuf, which states: "Ḥattā idhā istay'asa al-rusulu wa-ẓannū annahum qad kudhibū" (Until, when the messengers despaired and thought that they were indeed denied). The messengers despaired and thought that they had been told a lie. It would seem strange if we were to say that the messengers, in those moments, lost their belief in metaphysics and consequently fell into despair. It is difficult to consider what befell the messengers as belonging to their belief. It is better to regard this phenomenon as among the perceptions (istiḥsānāt) that came upon them. This conception of religious experience can even help relieve those commentators who have gone to great lengths, left and right, to avoid attributing despair to the prophets, from their strained interpretations.
As another example, according to the Gospels of Mark and Matthew, it is narrated that Jesus, son of Mary, in the final moments of his life on the cross, cries out and laments: "My God, why have you forsaken me?" (Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?). It would be strange if we were to say that in those moments, Christ lost his belief in God. It seems more reasonable to say that a tremendous event overwhelms Jesus's soul, and before his eyes, the world loses its color, at least for a few moments. Nevertheless, Jesus remains a "Christian" and does not abandon his belief.[10]
The same is true of Saint Augustine, the renowned Christian theologian. It is said that in his youth, he indulged so much in debauchery that an illegitimate child was left as a memento. Augustine's "Confessions" show that although he believed in Manichaeism during this period, his passion for the world had, to some extent, placed the idea of God in absence for him. Right during this time, when he was leaning against a tree in a friend's garden, a voice attracted his attention. Children were playing in the street and singing to one another: "Take up and read" (tolle lege). Augustine considers this voice divine, rises from his place, and opens the Bible at random. The verse that transforms him is this:
Let us behave decently, as in the daytime, and avoid carousing and drunkenness, sexual immorality and debauchery, dissension and jealousy. Rather, clothe yourselves with the Lord Jesus Christ, and do not think about how to gratify the desires of the flesh (Pirouz Sayar's translation, 810).
It is such an experience that turns Marcus Augustinus into Saint Augustine. In all the moments that Augustine underwent such an experience, he did not have a belief in Christianity, although he may have had an inclination towards such a thing. What is important here is the existence of such an experience, which, by Augustine's own confession, becomes a vehicle for him to abandon his prior belief and choose the posterior one. Thus, it is difficult to equate religious experience with belief.
One advantage of the non-cognitivist view of religious experience is that by appealing to it, one can better interpret certain unconventional religious experiences. For example, consider the religious experience of Abraham (pbuh) when he sets out to sacrifice his son. Muhyiddin Ibn Arabi reproached the prophet Abraham, arguing that he should not have "affirmed" his religious experience, as he lacked sufficient reason for doing so (Fusus al-Hikam, 364–365). Perhaps Ibn Arabi's point can be articulated as follows: what occurred in Abraham's consciousness was of the nature of seemings, not beliefs. Seemings, being non-cognitive, do not provide sufficient reason for action. For this reason, Abraham should have paused and reflected further.[11]
All of the foregoing has been said to demonstrate that there is a deep and unbreakable link between religious experience and seemings. Religious experiences are not themselves of the nature of belief, although they may cause us to come to believe something through them. It is natural that if seemings are involved, emotions also emerge from the sleeve of seemings. It is in this way that religious experiences become intertwined with emotions and act as causes. But if emotions enter the field of religious experiences, what do they bring upon their epistemic validity? Can religious experiences imbued with religious emotions be binding for us? Can religious emotions be granted epistemic authority? The above questions and others like them are, of course, a separate subject that requires an examination of the relationship between religious experience and emotions. I will leave this topic for another essay.
[1] For more information on Schuon's religious experience, see: Shahbazi, Abdollah, 1392 [2013], Maryamiyya: From Schuon to Seyyed Hossein Nasr:
http://www.shahbazi.org/pages/Maryamiyya1.htm
[2] As another example, consider the experience of Simone Weil:
At a moment of intense physical pain, while I was trying to feel love, without wanting to give a name to that love and without being in any way prepared for it (since I had never read mystical works), I felt a presence more personal, more certain, and more real than any human being, though inaccessible to the senses and the imagination (Reason and Religious Belief, translated by Ebrahim Soltani and Ahmad Naraghi, Tarh-e No, 1379 [2000], p. 219).
[3] The term estehsan is used by scholars of legal theory. In this article, I have used it as an equivalent for "seeming." Despite all the objections that may be raised against it, it suffices for advancing my argument. Estehsan literally means to deem good and to approve. In the terminology of legal theory, seemings can be employed as a proof. Seemings are similar to sensory perceptions, though they have many differences. For example, just as I have a sensory perception that there is an apple in front of me, and this perception may not correspond to reality, one can have a seeming that does not correspond to reality. Nevertheless, what I mean by seemings here is more intellectual than sensory in nature. That is, religious experiences are intellectual seemings rather than sensory seemings. In Western philosophy, among the most important figures who have written extensively on seemings are George Bealer and William Tolhurst. On this, see:
Bealer, G., (1998). “Intuition and the autonomy of philosophy”. In M. Depaul and W. Ramsey (ed.), Rethinking intuition: The psychology of intuition and its role in philosophical inquiry. New York: Rowman and Littlefield Publishers, Inc.
Tolhurst, W., (1998). “Seemings”. American Philosophical Quarterly, 35 (3): 293-302.
[4] Adelson Checker
[5] If we wish to follow the apt expression of J. L. Austin, the Oxford philosopher of language, our cognitive beliefs adapt from the mind toward the surrounding world. But conative attitudes adapt from the world toward our mind. John Searle and Elizabeth Anscombe later, following Austin, used the expression 'Direction of fit'.
[6] Whether conative attitudes can justify our beliefs is another matter that requires argument. The author of these lines believes that moral conative attitudes can provide reasons. But as to whether religious conative attitudes can also do so, this article remains silent.
[7] Truth-entailing
[8] Justification-entailing
[9] It is clear that one may, in one's theory of truth, choose neither correspondence with reality nor coherence. For example, one could adopt a pragmatist or deflationary theory. I have only mentioned the common theories here.
[10] In another story, narrated from Shams al-Din Aflaki's Manaqib al-Arifin, it is related that one day Rumi's disciples surrounded the Christian servant of his house in order to convert the servant to Islam. They brought arguments and reasoning to persuade him. At last, the arguments and evidence had an effect on the servant. He turned to them and said, 'I have no answer for you, but I am ashamed before Jesus to change my religion.' According to what was said above, the servant's expression can be understood thus: although he was inclined and a conative attitude overwhelmed him to embrace Islam, his belief in remaining a Christian remained untouched.
[11] What I have in mind in these phrases is what is referred to as 'prima facie justification'. That is, although the existence of conative attitudes initially justifies Abraham in believing something, for ultimate justification he must place his belief in reflective equilibrium. That is, he must at least weigh his religious experience against conventional moral intuitions. In this article, my focus was on the psychology of religious experience, and for this reason, not much was said about the epistemology of religious experience. I will examine this important matter in a separate article.
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