“According to some theologians, the metaphysical load that Christian practice and discourse carry needs little exploration. They would say, for example, that confessing the doctrine of the Trinity or the resurrection of Christ is much more important than worrying about the consequences for theological work of the ancient controversy between realism and idealism. They would say, even after thinking about it, that the epistemological bias of the age need not interfere with biblical exegesis or systematic theology.
To disabuse them would be a difficult task. I would say only that, if theologians proceed in the belief that they need neither examine nor even acknowledge their inherited metaphysical commitments, they will simply remain prisoners of whatever was in the antecedent 30 years earlier, when they were first-year students; or, more likely, 350 years earlier…”
Fergus Kerr, Theology After Wittgenstein, p.3
(He then goes on to show how a number of modern theologians are stuck in Cartesian ways of thinking).
The little thought put forward by Kerr, here, has seemed pretty obvious to me for quite a while. I remember, though, a time when it wasn’t obvious, and when I on the contrary assumed that direct, unfiltered access to the biblical texts was available, nearly 2000 years after they were written. Oh, how simple theology was before metaphysical presuppositions and epistemological biases came on the scene.
It is, of course, silly to think that as enculturated, temporal, historical, embodied, passionate we can approach anything with absolutely objectivity or neutrality, least of all texts that are themselves the product of a particular (distant) historical context and culture, let alone of another embodied and sweaty human, writing in very particular circumstances to a particular group of people. The sad and somewhat strange thing is that there are indeed “theologians” (though they are more systematic exegetes than theologians) who hold to this view, if not explicitly, then implicitly. The most high-profile of these are American. Their names rhyme with Grayne Srudem, Don Jiper and C.A. Darson.
It is not that such people don’t do some good work (no need to throw the baby out with the bath water, even if I personally disagree on a lot of details), but they are exactly in the situation Kerr describes above, captive to a metaphysics and an epistemology of which they are unaware, and which furthermore seems quite contrary to any coherent and meaningful Christian theological worldview. This is possibly the worst situation to be in as a theologian. We will always be creatures whose critical faculties are limited by our social context, upbringing, passions etc. – this is simply part of who we are as finite human beings –and while it’s not a reason to sink into relativism, it is a cause for intellectual humility. But more than that, when we are at least aware of our finitude; when we are at least aware of the need for a degree of intellectual humility; when we are at least aware that we have biases and prejudices, and that this is part of who we are, then we are in a much better place to, as far as possible, engage in self-criticism, so that the impact of these biases can be factored into our thinking. And it’s not even that we try and rid ourselves of these biases (that was the Enlightenment’s project, and it obviously failed), but merely that we be aware of them. As Gadamer said (in relation to interpreting texts):
“The important thing is to be aware of one’s own bias, so that the text can present itself in all its otherness and thus assert its own truth against one’s own fore-meanings [...]
Is not all human existence, even the freest, limited and qualified in various ways? If this is true then the possibility of an absolute reason is not a possibility for humanity. Reason exists for us in concrete historical terms – i.e., it is not its own master but remains constantly dependent on the given circumstances in which it operates”.
Hans-Georg Gadamer, from Truth & Method
According to this, the most dangerous place to be in is the position Kerr describes at the top, when we are unaware and unconscious of our prejudices (metaphysical or otherwise), and under the mis-impression that we have none, or at least can factor them out.
_____________________________
Does accepting any of this about limited rationality or intellectual humility mean “doctrine” or “orthodoxy” go out the window, as people like D.A. Carson have claimed?
Certainly not. It seems to me, that we’re left with at least two options (certainly more, but this is a blog). One is to follow the road of quasi-relativistic “postmodern” spiritual mush, John Caputo or Mr. Rollins being examples of this approach (which is pretty old hat by now, I know). Another is to bring tradition back into the picture, not as the bogey-man it is sometimes presented as in some contemporary, outward-looking protestant churches, but as the very life-blood of orthodox Christian belief and practice (and I mean a minimal or generous orthodoxy here, nothing more). If we are limited beings, without direct, unfiltered access to the biblical texts, then tradition has to be acknowledged as the avenue through which Christian truth has been passed down the ages within the Christian community. As Gadamer himself says, authority and tradition needn’t be seen as inherently bad things – they are, on the contrary, quite inescapable – rather, it is the kind of authority and the kind of tradition that is the real issue.
N.B. I’m not saying early or medieval or indeed 18th Century Protestant churches had everything right… again, I’m referring to a minimal orthodoxy here; the 21st Century is very different than the 3rd or 4th, and so Christian faith will necessarily look rather different in today’s context. Also, guys like Macintyre and Hauerwas and others have obviously talked about this kind of thing in relation to tradition, narrative and community for a while.
Amen.
I would also here posit the authority of the Bishop to shepherd in things theological, so that Tradition but also the “Overseer’s” play into faithful interpretation.
Simon,
Good to see ya again mate.
So, after all the tough stuff, you promise 2 options:
(1) Quasi-Relativistic “Postmodern” Spiritual Mush
(2) Tradition Embracing
I was all excited and expected clarity at the end. But option 2 tells me nothing. Seems like as much “spiritual mush” as number 1 so far. What are the epistemological options that change theologians? What is your goal? What dangers do you see? Please write a post for us common folk. I have no clue what you are talking about.
This all seems so careful, so hidden, so polished.
Hi Sabio,
I said the two options weren’t exhaustive and they’re not. Option 1 issues in something non-dogmatic and non-confessional where the actual content of belief wouldn’t matter. Questions of “orthodoxy” would be an irrelevancy. Option 2 would provide some epistemological grounding (outside of claims to absolute or objective reason) for an orthodoxy, or a set of core beliefs or doctrines that define a Christian community. Option 1 folks would see option 2 folks as oppressive, I think.
I always find your comments funny (as in unusual, and I don’t mean that harshly, it’s just an observation). This post was written in about 45 minutes at 1am yesterday morning while I was reading. It’s not a post for “common folk”. Just some thoughts for discussion by people who are interested and reasonably familiar with the area. I think Tony’s short response suggests that for those who are familiar, the point of the post is clear. I am certainly not making any original points, or saying anything especially creative that hasn’t been said before.
You’re comment seems to ask for a whole new post, which I have neither the time nor inclination to write. Is there a more specific question you have that we could discuss? Just one will be fine
So I must ask, what is so important about “orthodoxy” — especially considering what the orthodoxy is trying to stabilize.
Rollins shoots for praxy! Paul for orthodoxy and Jesus for praxy (if I must argue within the system).
Communities are more commonly defined by practice than by dogma, aren’t they. So if your object is community, then practice should be the aim.
If you practice is truth, then I can’t enter the dialogue because I don’t buy into the propositional truths though I can buy into the functional truths.
You guys could always make this post private for in-house echoing. But until then, here I am asking, “What did that mean?”
Hmmmmm, one question…. I know why epistemology is important for the social science and medicine, why do you think it is important for theology (and what elements do you feel are crucial, that Rollins is missing)?
Ooooops, that was two wasn’t it.
Remember, my questions may be odd simply because I am pretty ignorant of this stuff. But geez, isn’t it suppose to be stuff that can save humanity?
(I get the “inclination” and “time” thing — no need to respond)
Sabio, I think the distinction, as you’ve put it, between ortho-doxy and ortho-praxy is unhelpful. People don’t just act, they generally act a certain way because they believe a certain thing or see life a certain way. Rollins has his own orthodoxy even though he wouldn’t put it in those terms. Without an orthodoxy, even a very minimal one, ultimately everything dissolves. I identify with the way of seeing the world that has historically been called “Christian”, however difficult it is to define that satisfactorily, because I believe it offers a window to understand myself, others and human existence truthfully. That’s one reason why orthodoxy is important, because truth is important, even if it is difficult to find, and is not limited to pithy little propositions. In terms of dialogue you and I may agree on certain practical points, or indeed on certain philosophical points (epistemology for instance), but we won’t agree on theological issues, or on the particular content of our beliefs (e.g. I believe in God, and see the divine evidenced in the world around me; you believe “God” is an invention of my psyche, and interpret the world differently). I’m OK with this. I’m not treating this blog as a missionary endeavour, in any narrow sense. That would be horrible.
Re. your second question, the answer is in the quote at the top. I wasn’t really critiquing Rollins in the post, I was critiquing a bunch of American Reformed guys who make the mistake Kerr describes in that first quote. In their work, these gentlemen tend to ignore philosophical questions completely, and instead go straight to the biblical text, presuming they can interpret it directly and systematise it somewhat exhaustively. But because they ignore philosophical questions, they’re thinking is in many ways a mere product of their philosophical presuppositions, which they’ve picked up unconsciously and uncritically (and of which they claim, at least implicitly, to be free), and which are very Cartesian. Rollins is, in my opinion, in a much better place than they are on this score. He has a PhD in philosophy! I just think ultimately with Rollins you end up with nothing – no story, no way of building deep community, no proper accounting of the world, suffering etc. etc.
By the way, I didn’t mean to shoo you away with my first comment. I like talking with you, and I appreciate you taking the time to read and write here. It’s just inevitable that stuff on this blog will be more accessible for people studying the same kind of areas as we are. But the comment sections are good for this other kind of dialogue.
You do agree that the text compiled in the Christian canon are a hodgepodge of contradictory theologies, don’t you?
Do you think they share the same epistemlogy and philosophical bases even though they have different theologies?
Do you think those guys back then even considered these things?
No I don’t agree. That’s constantly levelled at the bible, and it’s silly. It’s only contradictory if you read it superficially and overly literally, as a textbook. There is no one clear theology (in the sense you use that word) in there, at any point, that’s why interpretation is an important issue, and it is an open question (which was one point of my post, re. why tradition can’t be ignored if you’re after a Christian orthodoxy). It’s a collection of ancient writings; a mixture of stories, myth, history, prophecy, poetry and letters. There are ways of thinking and epistemologies and theologies which undergird those texts (the way the stories were written, how God is spoken of, the very fact poetry is included), which perhaps need to brought out, but of course these things are not spoken of directly in the text, in the way they are in philosophy (the difference with Plato, for instance, is obvious), or modern systematic theology. It’s not a collection of academic documents.
That was another weird comment. You seem to presume that for Christian thinking to be valuable it has to be a direct representation of whatever the biblical authors did. Quite often in your comments I get the impression that your view of the bible, or at least of how Christians view the bible, is still very much informed by your time at Wheaton. I would take a guess that the criticisms I level in the post may well apply to a lot of people at Wheaton, at least when you were there, if not as much now, though I can’t really say. Robert Webber would probably have been an exception to that general rule.
Well, I won’t “that was another weird comment” & my limited vision because of Wheaton College red herring, if you don’t mind, and get back to my thoughts.
Great, so we don’t agree that the Bible is a mix of contradictory theologies. I am surprised. Many bright bible scholar (unbound by the fetters of Wheaton and who don’t read superficially and are not silly) disagree with you.
So, that is good, we understand our disagreements.
So, when you said,
That if those are “brought out”, they don’t ever contradict each other? That would be very surprising since humans wrote them — unless, you believe in some influence in their mind by a spirit [holy or otherwise]. In this post, did I list all the ways someone could hold such a inspired view? Did I miss your view?
Again, if you happen to look, let me apologize ahead of time for my Wheaton perspective, silly thinking, superficial readings and overall weirdness.
“That if those are “brought out”, they don’t ever contradict each other?”
This is the point, Sabio, whenever they are “brought out” it’s not possible to separate what is being brought out from the person who is bringing it out. No book in the Bible gives you, barely, a theology, so it is always a matter of interpretation. Yes, you can extract contradictory theologies from the Bible, but those are contradictory interpretations of some texts, it does not automatically imply the texts are themselves fundamentally contradictory. There is not enough formal theology in them for that to be the case. This only appears to be the case when working from an overly literal mindset, in my opinion. And that mindset, oddly, has seemed to afflict both conservative and liberal theologians equally (even though that distinction is now largely defunct) over the last few hundred years. In any case, I think narrative theology offers a better defence to those kinds of “the bible is self-contradictory” arguments than I can here. If you’re really interested THIS might be a good place to start.
Obviously the Wheaton comment irritated you, as you said you wanted leave it alone and then proceeded to mention it sarcastically throughout your comment. It wasn’t meant maliciously or in a patronising way. I’ve just noticed that a number of the discussions I’ve had with you are oddly similar to ones I’ve had with quite conservative Christians, and you come up with some of the same arguments they do. They tend to think that this “limited rationality” thing is a threat to “good, biblical Christian truth”. Paradoxically you seem to be making the same kind of argument here, suggesting that it undermines orthodox kinds of belief.
(1) Contradictory Theology
Yes, I agree, the person trying to uncover the theology, will cloud it. Such is the human mind. But:
(a) does the person writing it have a theology?
(b) [assuming "yes" to (a)] IF these theologies could be brought out, do you think they should all be consistent? Why? Because you are defending the position that the untainted theologies of the original writers are fundamentally the same. Why do you believe that?????
(2) ISRAEL
Are you pointing me at this book for more of a reason than this? You do not find it odd that:
(a) Many countries see themselves as choosen specially by their god. You really think Israel got it right and all the other countries were delusional
(b) A God actually chooses one country, when he could incarnate in many simultaneous. Yeah, yeah, “Gods ways are a mystery.”, “Who are we to question God?”
So what is your evidence that the GOD of the universe chose on country in the Iron age to redeem all of humanity. Dude, it comes down to being that simple. All the “epistemology”, “ontology”, “hermeneutic” chatter and knots in the world make it no more “nuanced”.
(3) Lastly, I prefer not engage the Wheaton conversation, or the other elements because they are all red herrings. Let’s stick to the conversation at hand. [...] Such talk would amount to Red Herrings in logic (specifically, the Genetic Fallacy family).
“So what is your evidence that the GOD of the universe chose on country in the Iron age to redeem all of humanity. Dude, it comes down to being that simple.”
Sabio, you have this habit of incessantly asking meta-questions as if people can just give you quick answers in the comment section of a blog post. I’m starting to doubt whether you actually are interested in the issues that are raised on blogs like this, given that you very frequently bring everything back to the same kind of issues i.e. “evidence” for or against God’s existence, actions or whatever. You are an atheist, we get it. You used to believe in God but have since discovered it is a load of guff. Fine. I appreciate that you tend to ask your questions with a good degree of respect, but they are the same questions all the time. And they are questions the “answers” to which you will never except because they don’t fit with your chosen worldview. “Dude, it comes down to being that simple”. We’re not talking here about bare facts, or some neutral “rational” discussion as some of your comments seem to imply. We’re talking here about two completely different ways of seeing the world, which are utterly irreconcilable because they’re embedded in infinitely complex structures of thought and being.
Here’s another well-known meta-question: “why is there something rather than nothing?” Any answer to this question is not objectively provable, it is beyond science, and it is far more important than science, ultimately, because if the *something* exists for a reason, that is surely the key to our existence. You and I answer this question differently, though neither of us would be as proud or pompous as to say we are completely certain about our answers and don’t have doubts and reservations. Indeed, neither of our answers to that question will be satisfactory to the other. I frankly find it absurd that you can look at the world, both its beauty and its ugliness, and say there is nothing but what we see, that there is nothing more than the material. You will find it absurd that I posit a divine creator with whom I believe men and women can have some kind of relationship. In either case, we would have to completely deconstruct and rebuild our respective worldviews in order to even make proper sense of the others arguments. As I was trying to say in the post, this is where are all, inherently and incessantly, subject to our own traditions and prejudice, even “rational, objective” atheists.
I can say you don’t really understand Christianity well enough to really know what you are rejecting. You can say I don’t understand science or psychology well enough to know how silly I am to believe my little ‘fiction’. I can say many high profile scientists and philosophers are orthodox Christians, and they know science better than you. You can say they’re as deluded as I am. I can say you lack imagination. You can say I lack sense. None of this gets us anywhere because we are talking past each other. And that’s not your or my fault, it is just the nature of things when you’re writing quick comments on a blog with someone with whom you fundamentally disagree on perhaps the most basic questions of life.
But please, and I don’t mean this harshly, can we stop with the polemical meta-questions as it is a waste of both of our time. I’m not asking you to justify what you believe, though I do have an interest in what you have to say. I am interested in learning from you, not challenging you to an intellectual dual, or convincing you that you’re wrong and I’m right. That doesn’t change the fact that I do disagree with you on the most basic of levels. Again, I’m not being obstructive or mean-spirited, I just think discussions such as these have very limited use, as we always seem to be coming back to these same kind of questions, we can never really be answered in the way you seem to want.
P.S. If you really are interested in the questions your asking, there are books on the subjects and have been for centuries. They would do more than I or anyone else can in the comment box of a blog post.
Also, Sabio, given that this discussion has gone quite far off the original topic of the post, can I suggest if you want to continue it (and that’s fine with me) that you drop me an email, and we do it that way, rather than clog up the comment section.
Cheers
Simon. Good post. I think we, as evangelicals (Grudem, etc al, but also myself), do certain things with the Scripture text that are unhelpful but we do it from a noble heart. What I mean is that Grudem and others (again, even I) so desire to uphold God’s glory and especially as He is revealed in Scripture, since we see it as a great revelatory tool today. Therefore, because we work from this noble point of trying to uphold God’s glory (especially in his faithful word), we end up creating these very serious boundaries and borders of what the text means and says and how it must be understood. I see this in the early chapters of Grudem’s Systematic Theology in the chapters on Scripture. It’s noble, but not necessarily helpful. It’s so strict and tight. And I suppose we fall into this trap a lot.
As one who thinks of these things from a pastoral-theologian perspective, I wonder how we get this balance of approaching the text faithfully (which includes realising our presuppositions) but also with that child-like (almost ‘foolish’) perspective. I don’t want to pit the 2 against one another, as they can be complimentary, going hand in hand. But there is a part of me that says not even I want to study the text to N.T. Wright’s level so I can more faithfully understand it in its historical context, but I want to approach it with child-like trust and simplicity, even if I’m not able to realise that Genesis 1-11 is myth or a real and actual historical accounting of the early days of humanity. Or even if I don’t realise the political perspective of first century Judaism. Sometimes the good balance between the two is difficult. I hope you understand a bit of my concern and question.
Simon, I really liked your post, especially after recently taking a class with James K.A. Smith on Wittgenstein, Rorty, and Brandom’s “realist pragmatism.” What do you think? Would Rorty sympathize with you and Kerr? After all, Rorty’s project is somewhat Wittgensteinian and wants to put community – hence, tradition – back at the forefront of the conversation about knowledge. Hence, he replaces “epistemology” (a mere product of the modern professionalization of philosophy that was produced by Kant and friends) with “epistemological behaviorism” (in “Philosophy and the Mirror of Nature”).
So I wonder what Rorty would say to Grudem and Carson, considering that his epistemological behaviorism submits to a limited rationality (to the extent that people won’t stop debating whether or not he’s a realist). What are your thoughts?
By the way, check out my new blog. Nothing much on it yet. It’s http://www.blogminsterabbey.blogspot.com
Hey Scott. Yeah, I understand your point. In all honesty, I’m not sure if I have anything all that constructive to add to what you’ve said. But I understand the tension. On one hand, the ‘childlike trust’ attitude to scripture can seem quite dangerous, and is perhaps not as appealing as it might appear to some. The idea that individuals can just sit down by themselves with a translation of the Bible and understand it straight off is obviously problematic philosophically (for the reasons in the post); it is both very modern and very protestant. But it is also dangerous insofar as it gives room for an infinite number of rogue interpretations to arise (the origin of dispensationalism would be exemplar here!). Even more though, I’m not sure if this approach is as appealing as it seems, in that it takes the interpretation and study of the bible out from its proper communal context and into a much more individualistic one. Obviously its not a flat either/or on that point, but you get the drift. On the other hand, I see why you and others obviously don’t want to throw that ‘childlike trust’ attitude out the window, as you’d effectively be taking the bibles back off the people, and leaving them solely with learned scholars or qualified vicars/ministers etc, – a kind of de-reformation, I suppose, which would be way too authoritarian. I think I see most value in emphasising the communal aspect of bible study etc., as a way of getting round this problem, but I don’t really know.
Sorry for the delay Matt, your comment came in as spam. I’m honestly not very familiar with Rorty (he’s not come up much over here), so it’s difficult for me to comment. From what I do know of him, I’m sure he would identify with what Gadamer says, re. limited rationality, the role of prejudice and tradition etc.. As I said in the post though, once that step’s been made past a kind of crude Cartesianism, there are a whole bunch of avenues available, e.g. from a Derridean kind of position, to the position Jamie Smith represents, to what the speculative realists have been saying more recently as well, I suppose, and many others. I don’t really know where Rorty would sit I’m afraid… maybe we can get Aaron in on this and you two can have a chat…? Thanks for the link, I’ll check it out!!
(A) Thoughts on the original post:
Funny Kerr quote, I just read something almost verbatim out of Merold Westphal actually! Good thoughts, I’ve been thinking about doing a blog series on the basics of hermeneutics lately as well.
I would assume that RC Sproul and the Thomistic apologists would all be epistemologically naive realists, as well.
Related to this, I’ve also been thinking about these themes with the New Atheists, especially the flock of followers, rather than the talking heads. These people are heavily invested in “objectivity” and the Enlightenment “prejudice against prejudice,” rather than realizing that it is inescapably human. I’m thinking about drafting a simple YouTube video to try and explain elementary hermeneutics and epistemology to these folks, since they are growing increasingly vocal. They claim to be the epitome of “reason” and “logic,” and yet they are still repeating the same problems from Descartes 400 years ago.
On the theme of tradition, there are some neat biblical commentaries that piggyback on such themes. I forget their proper name at the moment, but there is a series of commentaries that are strictly Patristic exegesis, and other volumes of specifically historical exegesis on various passages.
On a similar note, it’s funny to observe the die-hard Truly Reformed types in their hyper-protestantism and anti-Catholic-ness with regard to tradition. They are so anti-tradition with regard to anything prior to the Reformation, and yet if you look at the movement as it is now, they have their own “canonical saints” in the Puritans and their own authoritative texts, such as Calvin’s Institutes. These are great sources, but these folks have nigh-deified them to biblical status, much as they accuse the Catholics of for church tradition.
(B) Thoughts on various comments in the thread:
Adhunt, the authority of the bishop in things theological only works when you are yourself the bishop ;-D.
Sabio, I’ve missed you, I should start blogging again ;-D. You make a good observation with those that pit orthodoxy and praxis as opposed. However, drawing on Wittgenstein here, he emphasized that “meaning is use” — and perhaps I could paraphrase Wittgenstein a bit here to say that “orthodoxy is praxis,” or some such thing.
I’ve only read a couple comments so far, I’ll have to post more as soon as I can.
Chach, the new atheist point is 100% right. I’m sure they wouldn’t see their Cartesianism as a problem, either. Increasingly I’m coming across people from that kind of stream (whether scientists, or social scientists or whatever) who are straight down-the-line modernists in this sense. This is the case over here in some fields, but seems to be even more the case in the States, where Enlightenment assumptions still seem the norm in large parts of the academy (e.g. economics, political ’science’ etc.), at least from the impression I get. In some forms, analytic philosophy is still deeply indebted there as well, of course, hence their opposition to anything continental.
I think there’s an argument in all this too for charging Grudem et al with an underlying gnosticism.
@ Matt
Gee, I wish I could understand what you wrote. It looks packed with stuff I wish I understood. I have recently thought it might be helpful to try and categorize my philosophical stances. Epistemology seemed to be a good one to start with. But as I read the classic positions, one, I didn’t really get them, two, I wasn’t sure I fit into any of them. But mostly, I didn’t feel I really had an epistemological position in the normal sense and that was because my philosophy of mind did not allow for it.
Anyway, what you write about “Realist Pragmatism” — sounds like those guys may be my camp. So, for the philosophical unskilled would you recommend a reading or two to help clarify this form me. BTW, here is a link to another site where another Philosopher like you writes about a “Zen Epistemology” that I sympathize with too.
Hey, thanks if you have time.
PS– I was composing this reply to Matt before all these other great replies appeared. All you guys continue to broaden my perspective. Anyone else that can contribute to my curriculum, would be appreciated.
A list of the various epistemological stances would be nice — maybe Simon could partner up with Aaron in his YouTube project — that would be fantastic. Can I be a beta-tester screener?
I think this epistemology issue needs rounding out in the Atheist community, as you say. I just listened and commented today on one of my favorite Atheist sites (Luke’s Common Sense Atheism) where he posts the interesting You Tube videos of Theramin Trees.
You guys are often over my head — Simon’s last sentence, for instance — since I am academically naive, so I appreciate your patience.
OK, I am rambling. Love to hear from you boys.
Regarding the conversation on contradictory theologies within the Bible: Simon, you mention that this comes from an overly-literal mindset, and I agree. But I wonder to what degree this is not only an overly-literal mindset, but also the “verbal plenary” understanding of “inspiration” of scripture. Or maybe one could indeed subscribe to a verbal plenary inspiration, but careful hermeneutics will dismantle the typical baggage that comes with verbal plenary inspiration (hyper-literalistic fundamentalism).
Here’s an interesting observation in the “Simon & Sabio” dialogue above (that sounds like a sitcom title, by the way): your conversation galvanizes exactly what Kerr was on about. Our own hermeneutic traditions govern our perception, and they are indeed incommensurable. That is pretty ironic, indeed! =)
Matt, I think Rorty would agree one-thousand-percent =). Rorty is, after all, simply articulating “hermeneutics for analytic philosophers”
.
Scott, I agree that Grudem & Co. are well-intentioned. But you know what they say about good intentions… ;-D.
I’ve also been meditating recently on Jesus’s words on “faith of a child.” And ironically, essentially the big project of Continental philosophy is having to relearn all of the things that we take for granted — it’s almost like being a child again. Continental philosophy explores how in the imagination, a stick in the hand of a young boy can become a sword. What to us looks like a fork, to the Little Mermaid is a “dinglehopper.” So you are right that they are not only “not opposed,” but they may in fact be the same project. And I agree with you with reading the text with an open heart and mind, because essentially this is where the Holy Spirit illuminates the text. I should write an article on that — “Continental Philosophy as Childlike Faith”
.
Simon, yes, analytic philosophy is still a foundationalist bastardization of proper philosophy. This is exactly what Rorty’s project was: trying to show analytic philosophers (of which he was one) that they are all wrong about epistemology as a foundationalist Cartesian project, and that instead we should appropriate a Wittgensteinian pragmatism (and in his later writings, even a Continental swing).
Sabio, you would be very sympathetic with philosophical pragmatism, although I should note that what Matt surely meant to say was that Brandom calls himself a “rationalist pragmatist,” rather than “realist.” Indeed, epistemic “realism” is exactly the problem here. Rorty is also an atheist, but he is very sensitive of the fact that his atheism is simply another faith, alongside Christianity. It’s just the story that he narrates his life against, but he is very consistent, to argue that Christians are just as legitimate in their belief as he — and indeed, we might be right ;-D.
You can beta-test any video I come up with ;-D. Simon and I are separated by a large ocean at the moment, so it makes collaboration harder.
Aaron,
Ha! re: the Bishops. I would point out though, the exchange between Simon and Scott. Who will adjudicate competing interpretations? That is where “Church hierarchy” comes in, in my opinion. And it can just as well be a Presbytery or whatever, though I’m partial to a “catholic” ecclesiology.
Certainly in the day to day reading, reflecting and acting, we all “get along” with the interpretations that we feel are most appropriate. But it’s when whole parishes or wings of churches begin to seek approval for innovation (be it good or bad) that the “leadership” is responsible to provide direction faithful to the Word handed down and the Word received.
@Tony, good comment. It raises two questions. The first concerns how far it is necessary to adjudicate between interpretations, i.e. what issues are important enough that erring from the “orthodoxy” is a serious enough matter to necessitate intervention by an authority/leadership? Or, how far can you allow for multiplicity and diversity across the church? In what areas? What is “non-negotiable”, as it were? How far can you allow for the cultural contextualisation of churches (i.e. it’s obviously necessary for churches in Brazil to look different from churches in England, given that the gospel will outwork itself differently in varying cultures, but what is “too far”)? And are we talking about both doctrine and practice? If so, that makes things even more complicated. I’d tend towards a quite minimal orthodoxy myself (I have a quote of Graham Ward which sums it up very well, I think, which I’ll have to dig out).
The second question concerns how that adjudication, or intervention, by authorities is then carried out in practice, given of course that church authorities have historically acted oppressively, and have themselves, looking back now, been in error.
These are really tricky issues, I think, but they need to be thought through … and I totally agree that some kind of adjudication between interpretations is necessary, in some way, by someone. The idea that any interpretation is valid is what has given us the religious right and numerous other dodgy “Christian” phenomena which seem quite a long way, ideologically, from the (particularly social) thrust of the gospel. The alternative to adjudication is to jettison any interest in “orthodoxy” altogether, which I personally have no interest in doing (it seems absurd to me that people want to hold on to some concept of “Christian”, while jettisoning any concern for “orthodoxy”, why bother? Not to mention that there’s a huge, gaping aporia at the heart of that notion anyway…), but for which there remain well-reasoned arguments.
@Aaron, re. the irony thing… agreed, I noticed that myself. In fact, the whole thing was planned as an illustrative proof of the original post.
Sabio, I would recommend Brandom’s “Articulating Reasons” and “Between Saying and Doing: Towards an Analytic Pragmatism.” I would read this in light of Rorty’s “Philosophy and the Mirror of Nature” and Wittgenstein’s “Philosophical Investigations.” This is a route we took in a class I took on Philosophy and language, but epistemology is inherently in the conversation.
Simon,
I’m absolutely there with you that the point isn’t total uniformity, as if such a thing were even possible let alone desirable. For the most part there shouldn’t be a “thought” police out there attempting to slash down all creative, innovative, and even revisionist theologies. I would see Nicene Orthodoxy as the “minimum” “required” for recognition.
But I would look at what is going on in the Anglican Communion right now. We have decided that what is or is not appropriate for “local” churches to practice is not something that a “local” (here thought of loosely as “Provinces”) church can decide on it’s own.
While this is initially thought of as a possibility for “oppression” I have rejected such a false mode of conversation. It is just as oppressive that there are hundreds of churches out there saying things about “our” God, the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, in which I have absolutely no say. Indeed, because we are not connected by a hierarchy it is the epitome of totalization. They are free to determine on their own what is and is not appropriate to say. The “Free Church” in the “free market” economies of infinite denominational pluralization is the ultimate dictator.
Tony, quite. Such notions of ‘freedom’ are flawed, as well as, in the end, useless. Which is why I think these are important questions. It is certainly possible, perhaps even likely, for hierarchical authority in its usual mode to be oppressive; the alternative, however, is not some kind of libertarian free-for-all, but a different kind of authority. Formulating and practising that in a consistent way is, I think, the real challenge
(…and one which won’t be completed until the eschaton, I suppose).
Tony, yes, this is a subject I’ve been mentally wrestling with for some time — the role of authority and interpretation. Although I like the episcopal (“Catholic”) model of ecclesial governing, I am more inclined toward the presbyterian model for exactly the philosophical points we’ve raised. A presbytery provides a community to interpret together, whereas in episcopal models some decisions are made by isolated individuals.
I think an account that is thoroughly sensitive to the topic of this post (embodiment and therefore “tradition”), would lean toward a plurality of voices in such matters.
Aaron I’m not sure if a hierarchy has to be monistic in the way you imply (in practice at least it can work very communally e.g. the Anglican synods). Also, even in a presbytery, in practice, there is often a “first among equals”, which is code for someone who has the final say on decisions. Both models are obviously open to abuse and distortion. But I agree that communality seems like the most important thing. Other than that I don’t have an opinion either way right now.
Required in order to do what?
I remember Jesus’ list of required being much smaller and not nearly as complicated.
Hierarchy !
Sorry, this is a weird conversation to hear. Like I am a fly at a synod meeting to decide who gets excommunicated again.
Seriously, I think your Jesus would have laughed.
Sorry, I know this is an in-house conversation, but hell, a speak from the fly now and again can be too bad.
* a squeek from the fly now and again can not be too bad.
@ Matt — thanx for the book recommendations
Re: Sabio,
Yawn…Perhaps you should just tell me all about Jesus?
That was hilarious =D.
But yes, I understand your point. I think a lot of the reason it seems so counterintuitive is because Christians (and philosophers) have such a radically different notion of “freedom” than our liberal democracy culture promotes. In which case, this all sounds very strange indeed. This is what Simon’s recent comment above was mentioning.
Short version:
In liberal democracy, we value “negative” freedom: freedom from external influence/pressure/coercion etc. In Christianity, and in philosophers stemming from Plato to Kant to others, freedom is articulated in a “positive” respect: freedom towards acting according to your true nature, some sort of telos of what it means to be human.
So for example, our culture would say that being “free” is “doing whatever I want,” or some such thing. But Plato, for example, proposes that humans are rational animals. Freedom, then, is acting according to reason, and not giving into the whims of “whatever I want” at any given moment. So they have very different results.
The discussion over “orthodoxy” and Tony’s comments above highlight this exactly. Jesus and Paul both take care to note the importance of proper “belief”, not just practice. Our Protestant churches are shaped more by liberal democracy and the free market economy than the New Testament. As such, we have psychotic hyper-independent “churches” running amok, without any accountability whatsoever.
So, the church is a radically counter-cultural social gathering. While our culture demands “freedom,” we promote becoming slaves of righteousness.