Books I’ve Found Particularly Helpful in Grasping and Interacting with Postmodernism

The Relativity of Relativism

Though in our day we must wrestle with the postmodern expression of relativism, relativism itself is nothing new. Protagoras of ancient Greece, philosophical nemesis of Plato, held that “man is the measure of all things.” So, if relativism is an old enemy of God’s revelation, why tackle it here…again? Crystal Downing, in her recent work, How Postmodernism Serves (my) Faith, notes that speaking about relativism is a tricky matter. Not all forms of relativism are opposed to the Christian message. She notes at least three forms of relativism, with the second having three expressions.

The first form of relativism that Downing mentions is what she calls Bird relativism. This view approaches the matter from a bird’s eye view, assuming that it can understand the nature of truth from a non-situated position. This is the type of relativism that most people fear and denounce. It’s the view that says all views are equally true, or equally false.

The second form of relativism is Brain relativism. This form acknowledges that because of the plurality of human experiences, cultures, religions, etc., people think differently (“Brain”). There is therefore no way to enter in sympathetically to another’s perspective. In effect, we are trapped in our sphere of interpretation. Downing notes three sub-divisions of Brain relativism, namely the bouncing, bombardment, and lastly, the boundary form. Bouncing relativism calls us never to settle on a particular interpretative community, instead calling us to bounce around and “find ourselves” through multiple identity-forming communities. Since no one true interpretive paradigm has it all right, any attempt they make to totalize life under their scheme is inherently oppressive. In order to free oneself from the tyrannical control of just one worldview, the bouncing relativist must free themselves and “dip and dab” in various schools of discourse.

The bombardment relativist, like Stanley Fish, holds that discourse is always played according to the language games of our community. Since we live in a particular ideological commune our ultimate commitment is to that party, and we should radically defend our view of the world. While from a Christian perspective, at first glance this view may seem appealing, we must recognize that Fish’s sword cuts both ways; for a Muslim to question their towers of influence is inherently wrong. There is seemingly is no way to mediate between perspectives, we simply think about the world differently (this is way it is a subdivision of brain relativism). “If we endorse the bombardment position of Fish, we cannot say the that the actions of al-Qaida are universally immoral; we can only say that they are immoral according to our tower’s language of morality.” They took the notion of bombardment quite seriously.

Richard Rorty, the (im)famous American neo-pragmatist philosopher, is Downing’s representative of Boundary relativism. Immediately one will notice the parallels with the boundary and bombardment schools of relativism. Boundary relativism argues that one ought to cultivate the virtue of solidarity with one’s community. Why do Americans prefer freedom and democracy? Because those are American values. To break solidarity with the society’s paradigmatic view of the world is to be immoral. We ought to remain within our society’s boundaries because they work for us. Rorty is not concerned with the “how do you know?” question that has plagued western philosophy for centuries. He freely admits to parasitically feeding off of the Judeo-Christian worldview when he condemns cruelty and injustice. Were we to ask him why should he hold these standards as opposed to others, he would simply reply, “These are the values that have shaped America.  And I’m an American.” Before moving on, I note that such a view of truth, morality, and solidarity, the notion of a social, intellectual, or ethical reformer is rendered unintelligible; by definition to reform is to break solidarity according to Rorty, and hence is immoral (i.e it doesn’t ‘work’). Martin Luther King Jr., William Wilberforce (who fought to end the slave trade in England), and Einstein (who rejected the Newtonian scientific paradigm of his day) would have to be remembered with disrepute rather than honor. 

Lastly, Downing writes of Building relativism. Here she makes use of the word building as both a verb and a noun. As a noun the term building speaks of the structures, or towers, as she likes to call them, that act as ideological paradigms (such as fundamentalist Christianity, Reformed Christianity, Roman Catholic Christianity, progressivist Christianity, etc.). These towers serve as our worldview forming communities. As a verb, it speaks of the action of moving upward toward a truth that transcends our perspective. Thus, Building relativism is not mutually exclusive with a belief in absolute truth. 

I find her distinctions compelling. Her nuanced presentation of relativism fleshes out the notion that not all postmodern relativists are of the same stripe. Rorty is of the boundary stripe, while Fish is of the bombardment type. Though I would be less inclined to call this last type a form of relativism, and more to call it a form of perspectivalism. But, I would argue that behind much of the reactionary rhetoric of so many evangelical responses to postmodernism is a genuine recognition that without a transcendent God- One who is not subject to the limitations of human finitude- and His perspicuous verbal revelation- to serve as our ultimate presupposition-there is no way to escape enslavement to a creaturely authority structure. But, these power structures, these “truth regimes,” need not always be our only suzerain.

As has been expounded time and again by Cornelius Van Til, and other thinkers, our slavery is often to our own sinful passions. Relativity reigns when standards of truth, beauty, and goodness fluctuate from individual to individual. Unfortunately, many advocate an aggressive acquiescence to just such an enslavement.

Was Cornelius Van Til a Foundationalist?

One reoccurring critique by postmodernists is that the leading approach to epistemology during the modern period, classic foundationalism, is a hopelessly doomed project. Many Analytic philosophers have conceded the fact that foundationalism, in the sense critiqued by postmodernists, is not workable or realistic. Instead, in reponse to this critique, many epistemologists have proposed a modest foundationalism, one that opens up space for what is counted as a properly basic belief. Is Cornelius Van Til’s epistemology subject to the postmodern critique of classic foundationalism? Is it even accurate to categorize Van Til’s position as foundationalist? I am tempted to say both yes and no.

First, we will examine how VT’s position is not foundationalist. Traditionally, classical foundationalism has appeared in at least 2 ways (though, in reality, there are literally dozens of ways of cutting the foundationalist pie). During the Enlightenment period, the two major warring parties of epistemological schools, the empiricists and the rationalists, despite their major differences, shared methodological commitments to this form of foundationalism. They sought some bedrock upon which their entire epistemological structures could be erected. The rationalists rooted their positions in clear, distinct, and indubitable ideas, while the empiricists looked to basic sense impressions on the “blank-slate” of human consciousness. If some aspect of human knowledge could be proven to be beyond doubt, self-evident and subject to open inquiry the trustworthiness of human knowledge would be maintained. The problem with this project, from a Van Tillian perspective, is that both schools seek an epistemic pou stou 1) apart from the God’s word, and 2) as a way of preserving sinful autonomy (i.e. intellectual independence from God and His authority).

Van Til clearly rejects this project and instead presents the self-attesting revelation of God in the scriptures as our epistemic bedrock. We should not look to anything in creation to ground knowledge, for no finite thing can provide epistemic certainty. Instead, despite our finitude and sin, we are to turn to scripture for guidance and be content with the supernatural certitude that comes only by the internal testimony of the Holy Spirit. But does this leave us hopelessly agnostic, lacking any kind of confidence regarding the veracity of our knowing? No, Van Til was no relativist. Instead, he presents us with a theological framework for making sense of our everyday confidence in our cognitive faculties. This leads me to the affirmative aspect of my answer to our original question.

Is it even accurate to categorize Van Til’s position as foundationalist? Perhaps, but not in the sense open to postmodern criticism. Recall that classic foundationalism is an epistemological position. But, we’ve seen above that Van Til rejects the modernist’s notion of rooting certitude in anything in creation. Instead, we find our confidence in the living God. Van Til’s position is that knowledge is “saved” because God exists and we are created in His image (in fact for VT this fact is turned into a powerful theistic argument. For handy summary of VT’s “argument from unity of knowledge,” see James Anderson, “If Knowledge, then God: The Epistemological Theistic Arguments of Plantinga and Van Til,” Calvin Theological Journal, April, 2005.).

God providentially guides and preserves our knowledge to an overwhelming great degree. Thus, for theological reasons, we can have confidence in our knowledge. But this is no onto-theological leap by which VT calls God into the picture simply to fill in the gaps of his philosophy. Instead, this lies at the very heart of VT’s philosophy. Functionally, because of our creationally constituted knowledge of God (what I’ve called p1 ), we are always, whether believer or not believer, in contact with God. But, the reason why VT’s epistemology escapes the barbs against modernist foundationalism is because, though we have metaphysical confidence, epistemologically we have no direct or unmediated knowledge of the world. We all have baggage, whether that manifests as misleading worldviews (p2), or inconsistent heart-commitments (p3). Of course, this is not to say that our situatedness in an inherent impediment against obtaining true knowledge (cf. Vern S. Poythress, God-Centered Biblical Interpretation-Phillipsburg: Presbyterian and Reformed Publishing, 1999, pg. 66.), but it is against attaining to the impenetrable, philosophically certain knowledge that modernism sought. Secondly, how p1 plays out in our life is very difficult to express. It’s so common to our everyday experience that reflective contemplation of it is akin to a fish examining the water it swims in. Though this is a rough-and-ready term, perhaps we can call p1 a cognitive intuition.

Instead, we can categorize Van Til as a soft foundationalist, which is not open to postmodern critique. So, our confidence is in the power of God, and not our epistemic equipment. Let him who boasts, boast in the Lord.

Sartrean Existenialism (3 of 3)

Responsibility. Here is somewhere that I think Sartre can be a great help, his notion of personal responsibility. But even here, I think that his overall existentialist approach undermines his intended goal, which is to spring people into action. Sartre taught that we are all radically responsible for our actions. We cannot blame chance, desires, human nature, or God for our choices. Like I said last time, we can’t “pass the buck.” We, on Sartre’s account, must acknowledge that we create who we are by way of our personal choices, and must stand up and own them. Now, before I support this notion, a word of critique.

Responsibility implies two factors, 1) persons and 2) a relationship. I can only be responsible to a person. I have no ultimate responsibility to a rock, a tree, or a knat (I, as a Christian, believe that I have some level of responsibility to them, but more on that shortly). No non-personal thing or force can bind my conscience or demand my allegiance. Likewise, responsibility implies a relationship. The level of the intensity in a relationship and it’s “closeness” determine the level of responsibility I owe. I am responsible to my boss up to a certain degree, I am responsible to my brother even more so, and my mother and father even more. But to what, or more appropriately, to whom is ultimate responsibility and loyalty owed? Well, if responsibility implies relationship and persons, then ultimate responsibility implies a relationship with an ultimate person. This of course is exactly what the Bible teaches.

And this is exactly what Sartre rejects. But, in rejecting this notion, he has effectively cut off the branch he’s been sitting on. With no ultimate Person to whom we are responsible, we have not derivative responsibility to each other. This is especially true of Sartre’s golden rules (live in good faith and be authentic). Why should we think that Sartre has tapped into some metaphysical law that (ethically) governs human behavior? We shouldn’t, these are Sartre’s rules, or better yet, his preferences. Ultimately, on his wordview, they reduce to no greater than a hunch.

Nevertheless, I agree that we ought to treat people as ends and not as means, and as subjects rather than objects. I agree that we cannot “pass the buck” regarding our actions, and that we need to “own up” to our decisions. I affirm all these things, but I do them not because of Sartrean existenialism, but rather because I reject Sartre’s project and affirm Christian theism.

I believe that because there is a Creator, rather than because He doesn’t exist, that there are objective moral laws. Sartre wants binding standards without God; I say this is impossibility. He may reduce the number of obligations, but that misses the point.

I affirm the notion of a human nature; the Bible affirms this notion as well. Now, of course, the Bible doesn’t teach human nature in the same way we may be accustomed to think of the subject in our western, scientifically advanced world. So, to hold the Bible up to this standard is to force an alien standard upon the Biblical writers, one that they were never seeking to hold themselves up against. Many who deny Christian theism would quickly point out that human and primates share over 80% of bodily mechanics and biological makeup. Is this true? Well, insofar as we’ve been able to discover via genetic research, Yes, it is. As a Christian, I have no problem affirming this. The Bible doesn’t make any claims on this matter to the contrary that modern science has “disproven.” What marks out humanity as special in the creation account is the status of mankind, not it’s genetic fingerprint. Humankind is the only creature that is created in the imago Dei, the image of God. Chiefly, this points to humanity’s position as vice-regent of creation (under God, the supreme King). In the Ancient Near East, the vice-regent was the embodiment of the primary King’s authority. So, much more could be said here, but some of this has been covered elsewhere in my brother’s entries. (Here, here, and here).

As a last point of critique here, it should also be noted that something else is basic, and essential to human nature (at least since what Christian theologians have called The Fall in Genesis 3), and that’s our moral proclivity to do things we know aren’t good, i.e. sin. With this in mind, we need to acknowledge two senses in which something can be considered “natural” for humans. I’ve dealt with this briefly here.

Now for my support of this notion of responsibility. I think Sartre was unto to something here. Once placed on a Christian footing, human responsibility makes perfect sense. And here I’m not speaking primarily of the notion that if we don’t obey the “Big Man upstairs” is going to throw a lighting bolt down on us. Far from it. The concept of responsibility is rooted in our humanity, in the very imago Dei itself. God has placed me in this world to reflect his love, glory, and justice. Since this world has fallen into sin, we need this ever more so. We are stewards of God’s realm. We are to beautify and develop this world in order to present it to God as an offering of devotion and love. Other human beings are likewise God’s vice-regents, and I should treat them as ends in themselves and not simply means because they aren’t sludge or some other morally insignificant thing, but royalty. Likewise, I have a responsibility to be a good steward over the earth, and how I use it.

People aren’t “things,” objects to be moved around and manipulated like so much furniture. As Sartre said, we are subjects! We have hopes, dreams, aspirations, and in classical Christian language, we have vocations, callings to which God has given us both desires and abilities. I am responsible to others because the development of human flourishing is essential to what it means to be human. When I act in irresponsible ways, when I pass blame for my actions, and fail to acknowledge how my choices shape both who I am, and as a result, who others will become, I’m not living up to my full humanity. In fact, it’s flat out dehumanizing.

This is one of the main reasons why when someone becomes a Christian, that is to say, they are born again because the Spirit of God graces them with new spiritual life, the Bible speaks of them being “renewed in the image of Christ.” Christ is the image of God, par excellance. He walked as God’s man, healing the sick, loving the outcasts, feeding the needy, atoning for our sin and brokenness, etc. While on earth, Christ lived a fully robust human life, and to this we are called.

A Primer on Perspectivalism

Several months ago, I revised my summary of John Frame’s perspectival approach to both theology and philosophy (from Wikipedia, though what’s up now is slightly different from what was originally posted.). I don’t think it’s half bad, but of course you can’t beat getting it straight from the the man himself. Here’s a great primer to his overall approach, written by Frame himself. In his summary, Frame shows the greatest implications and foundations for his approach, as opposed to mine which stuck closer to the realm of epistemology.

Sartrean Existentialism (Part 2 of 3)

Now that’s I’ve quickly sketched out some of the main themes in Sartre’s thought, I think it’s safe to begin a reply. I say “begin” because I don’t intend on dragging out a long interaction and rebuttal to all of the points with which I either agree or disagree. But here are some quick thoughts.

Atheism. First, Sartre never truly argues that God doesn’t exist. In fact, as I mentioned in the previous post, he said he would have preferred if God did, at least because that would mean that someone, somewhere, has imbued the universe with some cosmic significance. Yet, on the other end, Sartre taught that if God did exist, He would dehumanize us because His constant gaze would turn us into objects, again challenging the subjectivity so highly prized by Sartre. But again, just because the notion of an all-knowing, all perceiving God bothers Sartre and caused him great unrest doesn’t mean that this God doesn’t exist any more than saying that because it bothers me that when I eat chocolate I tend to gain weight means that chocolate doesn’t exist. Neither my, or Sartre’s likes or dislikes determines what exists apart from our perception. This is all to saying that Sartre never sought to argue for atheism, he simply assumed it. And that’s a huge deal, because so much of his system (though he would never have called it that) is dependant upon atheism’s truth. Take that away and, for all his positive insights into human interaction, etc, what we’re left with is floating truths here and there, not a coherent worldview.

Morality. My second critique is built off of what I began to say in the last post, namely that Sartre’s notion of authentic living, combined with his teaching that no objective moral values exist, mix to make a dangerous and deadly combination. In Sartre’s scheme, no one can say that torturing babies for fun is wrong, no one can say that Hitler’s actions against the Jews was wrong, and no one can say that the slavery of Africans was wrong either. We can say that we don’t like them. That’s a nice little bit of autobiographical information, and perhaps we should be nice and indulge person who share that sentiment. But, no one can denounce it as evil. Hitler was simply being the person he wanted to be, he was “authentic.”  And, if Hitler rejected passing the buck for his actions, then he was living in good faith. Therefore, he passes both of Sartre’s golden rules and hence is a perfect Sartrean existentialist!

Authenticity. Sartre, as I mention earlier, gave pride of place to his notion of authenticity, of “good faith.” I see a major problem here. In order to “be all you can be” we need to know what we’re supposed to be. That is, the notion of authenticity, rather than existing within a framework where essence is excluded, actually presupposes the notion of human essence. If not, on what basis on Sartre say that a person is living inauthentically? I can only know if person A is not living according to the way they should if I already have an idea of how they should be living.

Rules and norms. Likewise, and this touches on Sartre’s rejection of moral norms, it is arbitrary to oppose any rules given his rejection of a Creator God and human nature. You cannot say on the one hand, “there are no rules that bind our conscience,” and then, on the other hand say, “but you must live authentically and in good faith.” Given Sartre own philosophy this reduces to a power play, a way of him imposing his own philosophic “laws” on us while ruling out the authority of any others. It’s purely arbitrary and thus without warrant.

Next I’ll develop both my critique of Sartre’s doctrine of radical responsibility and offer some thoughts based on a Christian worldview.

Sartrean Existentialism (Part 1 of 3)

Existentialism is a particular school of thought in the history of philosophy that greatly interests me. This is because I believe that –in it’s Sartrean form- existentialism both gets so much right and gets so much wrong. But first, it’s helpful to step back and take a look a the basics of existentialism. What are its basic assumptions about reality? What are it’s motives and goals?

French philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre developed his brand of existentialism building off of the teachings of Nietzsche and Kierkegaard. But, unlike Kierkegaard, and following in the footsteps of Nietzsche, Sartre rejected the notion that God, especially the God of the Christian Scriptures, exists. Interestingly, Sartre admitted that his belief in atheism distressed him. He wished that there was purpose, direction, and a loving hand guiding his life. But instead, all he found was the cold, hard, “thrownness” of human existence. This gets at one of the foundational tenets of Sartrian existentialism, a denial of any objective human nature or coherent pattern for the world around us.

There is no God to create us in His image, so human life is not inherently sacred. There is no God to tell us what is good and beneficial for human flourishing, and neither is He there to warn us of which actions dehumanize us and harm others and our world. In summary, there is no objectively “given” code of ethics and behavior, nothing inherently evil or good. Likewise, we aren’t the special creation of a loving Creator, but instead the products of blind, natural forces; an infinitesimally small bubble of sea foam floating in the infinitely large sea of nothingness and meaninglessness. So, if there is no human nature, there is no “pattern” or end toward which we should strive. Here Sartre flips the ancient philosopher Aristotle on his proverbial head. Aristotle taught that we all have an essence, something that determines what we are, and our entire existence is defined in terms of “becoming what we are.” We fulfill our potential by becoming fully human. Essence precedes and guides existence.

For Sartre, just the opposite is true; existence precedes essence. Since we have no human nature, our essence is determined by our lived life, the actions we take and the choices we make. Thus, if someone was to ask, “Who is Joe?” We couldn’t really answer that question while I was still living, since my time period to define who I am (my life span) isn’t over. Only after my existence comes to an end can we determine my essence. Now, this can have both good and bad ramifications. On the one hand, it means that I cannot be defined by the poor choices I’ve made. Essentially, I can remake myself by altering my decisions and taking another course of action. My failures don’t define me because the “whole story” isn’t in yet. On the other hand, we cannot ever, if Sartre is correct, say that we “know” a person’s character, since they are radically free to change their “essence” with any given decision. This leads to the next major foundation to Sartre’s thought, one already hinted at thus far, radical freedom.

If no God exists, and we have no human nature to direct us how to live, then, according to Sartre, we are “radically” free. The freedom that Sartre speaks of is radical because we are ultimately accountable to no one but ourselves. The responsibility for our actions cannot be passed off to something, or someone (or someOne) else. This is what Sartre speaks of as “bad faith.” Bad faith is the label Sartre uses to categorize the actions of someone who explains their choices in terms of causes or influences other than their own will. To say that I had to make decision X because of my heredity, environment, human nature, or divine will is, essentially in Sartre’s mind, to “pass the buck” and avoid responsibility and ownership for my own life. Instead, we are to be “authentic” persons, people who embrace our actions and take ownership of our lives.

Notice here though that I have spoken nothing of how one is to life their authentic life. That is because Sartre himself wasn’t aiming to tell us which actions we are to take. In fact, in principle Sartre only lays out two “rules,” 1) Be authentic, and 2) don’t live in “bad faith.” So, if my method of authentic living is to become a tyrant, that’s fine (remember, for Sartre, there are no moral absolutes), likewise if I choose to serve others to my dying breathe. Objectively speaking, there is no moral difference between the actions of Hitler and Mother Theresa. In fact, thinking in terms of “objectivity” is a no-no to Sartre; it denies the ultimacy of subjectivity that he prizes so greatly.

Faith and Reason: Is There a Sharp Divide? (Part 11)

The problem with all these theories is that they didn’t truly understand how man actually reasons. We all have worldviews: which is an interconnected web of beliefs that make up a system. This system is supported by supreme norms of thought that serve as an ultimate standard of truths. These standards are not proven by the system of thought rather the system is dependent upon them. These supreme norms are held by faith. This is true of all worldviews. To quote John Frame,

[C]ircular argument of a kind is unavoidable when we argue for an ultimate standard of truth. One that believes that human reason is the ultimate standard can argue that view only by appealing to reason.

The standard of judgment, method of argument, and conclusion are always involved in one another. Every argument contains its conclusion in its starting premise. Here’s a simple example: to argue that the Bible is not the Word of God you have to first assume that it is not the Word of God (i.e. that you have the ability to question it and have the authority to pick what is true in it and what is not).

Another major thinker in the faith/reason discussion is Cornelius Van Til. I believe that his line of thinking bring faith and knowledge into Biblical balance. Here I’ll end this series and pick up with a short series on the major contours of Van Til’s thought.

Faith and Reason: Is There a Sharp Divide? (Part 10)

Logical Positivism. Those who have been paying close attention will notice history repeating itself with the movement known as Logical Positivism. Once again we have a movement, this one started out very aggressive, that has as its goal the elimination of all metaphysical speculation. This means assumptions about the nature of reality. As we have stated before, morality cannot be derived from empirical observation, so ethics is done away with, it is labeled meaningless.

The verifiability principle was the standard that was used by the Vienna Circle to decide what is meaningful and what wasn’t. Roughly stated, this principle states, “for a statement to be meaningful it is in theory verifiable/provable by observation, either directly or indirectly.” This was the sword that they used to cut ethics and religion from meaningful conversation (they were relegated to the realm of “faith”-irrational belief- not “reason”- that which is testable). But this sword did something unexpected; it turned around and destroyed the movement itself! The Verification Principle could not be proven by observation so therefore it isn’t meaningful. It could not meet its own standards.

Faith and Reason: Is There a Sharp Divide? (Part 9)

Kant’s Effect on Theology. Kant’s phenomenal/noumenal distinction had a profound effect on theology. Many theologians sought to refashion their approach to scripture in line with Kant’s philosophy. If we can’t know God through the faculty of human reason, then how can we know him? Søren Kierkegaard placed an emphasis on the subjectivity of faith, i.e. our own personal feelings. He didn’t argue much for Christianity based on what happened in history: he taught that to truly believe, a leap of faith is needed.

Karl Barth and the Neo-orthodox movement followed the example set by Kierkegaard by declaring that God is not known through nature (they denied the effectiveness of what’s called general revelation). So, if God is not clearly revealed in nature, no natural theology can be constructed. That is the opposite of what Thomas Aquinas said, remember? Barth argued that God is truly revealed in the person of Christ, and for us the key place of that revelation is scripture. According to Barth, while the Bible is not the objective word of God, it is nonetheless the instrument, the vehicle that God uses to cause us to have an encounter with Christ in it’s pages.

Faith and Reason: Is There a Sharp Divide? (Part 8)

Kant. Immanuel Kant is a profound force in the history of philosophy. But, while much of philosophy and theology is still effect by his thought, we can only briefly run through his contribution to the faith/reason discussion.

Kant read the writings of David Hume and said that it woke him up from his “dogmatic slumbers.” He answered Hume by, in effect, saying that Hume was right. We don’t sense causation, nor do we sense the uniformity of nature. We don’t find these unifying principles in the world; instead we bring these assumptions to the world. By saying this, he turns Plato on his head. Instead of the forms being “up and out there” somewhere, they are in down here, supplied by our mind. Again, borrowing from Ronald Nash, think of our minds as the jelly jar that gives the jelly shape. Outside of the jar, the jelly would have no such shape. This means that everything we know comes from the conceptual categories of our mind, such as time, shape, space, causation, succession, etc.

According to Kant, everything we see is mediated, filtered by these structures. The implication of this is that we do not know, and in fact can never know, the world as it truly is. Kant calls the world as it appears to us the ‘phenomenal’ realm. The world as it is in itself, the unknowable world, is the ‘noumenal’ realm. God, according to Kant, if He exists, would be in the noumenal realm, unknowable to us.

Faith and Reason: Is There a Sharp Divide? (Part 7)

David Hume. David Hume was an empiricist. This means that he believed that certain knowledge can only be attained through sensory experience. So he set out to discover exactly what can the senses tell us about reality. We do not have sense experience of structure or unity. We categorize and organize our sense data by using principles such as causation and induction

Causation. We reason from cause to effect. When playing Pool, with but a swing of a stick we see a ball move, make contact with another ball, and then we see the other ball move. Immediately we interpret what we saw as one ball “causing” the other ball to move. Strictly speaking, what we actually saw was a succession of events. One thing happens and then another. Causation is a principle of organization that we intuitively use to make sense of what we saw, but causation, in and of itself, is not perceived by the senses. Why? Because causation is not a “thing” open to be tested by our five sense.

Induction. Not just science, but much of human knowledge relies on inductive reasoning. Besides what I mentioned before, induction relies on the belief that the past informs us of the future. The sun set yesterday at such and such time, so it will set tomorrow at such and such time. How do we know that? Nobody has ever had a sense experience of the future. I know what you are thinking, ‘We know this, because it has happened in the past’. But that is assuming that the past can tell you about the future. You would be assuming that which you are trying to prove, and that’s called begging the question, a logical no-no.

The is/Ought fallacy. The Is/Ought fallacy deals with morality. Can sense experience alone lead us to ethical judgments and values? How do we go from what is the case (the “is”) to what ought to be the case (a moral obligation)? We cannot derive moral obligation from mere observation. There has to be a law outside of us that we all are obligated to obey. If that is not the case, then moral values reduce to mere personal preference. “Murder is wrong” is becomes as morally significant as “I like chocolate.” The Marquis de Sade loved to torture women, I don’t. If sense experience is only way to truth, what makes him wrong, and I right? David pointed out this error in think, and it’s a great logical tool to keep in your back pocket.

Faith and Reason: Is There a Sharp Divide? (Part 6)

The Enlightenment.  Skipping now hundreds of years, we now turn to another revolutionary movement in the history of thought. Yet, in a strange way, this new movement that wasn’t too different from the old one, which lead to the birth of western philosophy. it was known as The Age of Reason; Man escapes from the darkness of submission to religious dogma and steps into the light of learning, studying, and experimentation according to the dictates of autonomous Reason (again, note the capital R). Autonomous reasoning is human reasoning that believes that it the ultimate standard of what is true and false, right and wrong, without having to consult an outside referent (such as God).

The Age of Reason is also referred to as the Enlightenment. Out of the intellectual darkness of the middle ages (which weren’t exactly dark at all, with such brilliant minds as Anselm, Boethius, and Ockham), these thinkers sought to break free from all authority structures such as: the Church, Tradition, and Nationalism. Autonomous reasoning, free from these controlling structures, must be its own Judge, its own Master. Followers of Enlightenment thinking believed that this autonomy of Reason could lead us unto perfect knowledge in not only the sciences, but in all areas of life. They applied the method of the physical science (biology, mathematics, etc)to the study of the social science (sociology, politics, religion, etc). In effect,  whether they consciously meant to or not, they aspired to the knowledge of God himself.

Philosophical Modernism. In time, the Enlightenment ushered in what has come to be known as Modernism. We are not talking about architectural modernism, or literary modernism, etc. We are discussing Modernism, the worldview. It is characterized by overconfidence in reason and science. It does not take religion and the idea of a supernatural realm seriously at all. Two subdivisions of Modernism are: Scientism and Naturalism. Scientism is view that only those things that can be tested by the methods of science and be proven by the methods of science are capable of being true. Now this very principle cannot be proven by the methods of science, so therefore according to its own standard it is not true. Science is dependant on induction. Induction is the principle that we can arrive at generalized conclusions from the observance of specific instances. A faulty example of induction is:

Repeated observation: all geese I’ve ever seen are white

Inductive [faulty] conclusion: all geese are white.

Here’s an example that we believe holds true:

Repeated observation: everything I throw up comes back down

Inductive conclusion: what goes up must come down. (for more on induction, click here)

Science also assumes that its findings have universal validity. That whatever it “proves” is true for all, not just for group B. These assumptions cannot be proven by science itself, but must be assumed for science to have any legitimacy. These necessary assumptions are the philosophical underpinnings of science, that which holds it together. These are held by faith.

Here I borrow Ronald Nash’s notion of a box to understand naturalism. Nature is the box and everything in it has to be explainable by something else in the box. This leads to determinism, the theory that all observable events have fixed natural causes. A consequence is that all of our emotions, hopes, desires, and thoughts would be completely explained by chemical and physiological causes. The boomerang effect of this is that it serves to sabotage the very reasoning that came up with this theory in the first place. According to determinism, I’m not a naturalist because I reasoned my way to this position, I actually had no choice. Chemical collisions in my brain made it so that I had to say this….and this….and this….

Faith and Reason: Is There a Sharp Divide? (Part 5)

Aquinas. Thomas Aquinas held that faith and reason are separate and distinct, but that both have a place in leading us to knowledge. His position was that that reason, apart from God’s word, could lead us to knowledge of God. Reason, unaided by faith, can prove, according to Thomas, the existence of God. This is called Natural Theology (NT). NT posits that there is much we can know about God by merely analyzing the world and nature. This is because nature is God’s creation and therefore would reveal some of his divine qualities. Aquinas does believe that there are things that NT cannot uncover, such as the Biblically teaching that God is a Trinity and creation out of nothing (ex nihilo), which means that the world was created out of nothing. These truths cannot be ascertained by what reasoning can discover from nature. These can only be believed by faith in Scripture.

Thus, on Aquinas’s view, in order to be considered “reasonable” one does not need to accept the teaching of the Bible (i.e. express faith in the Bible). Someone is perfectly okay within the realm of “reason” when is comes to “natural” (as opposed to “spiritual”) things. So, while Augustine believes that faith precedes understanding (giving faith the priority), Aquinas privileges Reason (note the capital R).

Faith and Reason: Is There a Sharp Divide? (Part 4)

After the spread of Christianity, many thinkers debated on how God could be known. Exactly, how does man make contact with God? Is He known solely through faith or can man’s rationality lead us to knowledge of God?

Augustine, one of the very most important and influential Christian thinkers in history, believed that faith was instrumental in finding truth. Only by first believing can one ever start to truly understand God and his creation. Both he and Anselm of Canterbury, (who though born 600 years after Augustine, was very much influenced by his thought), held that it is faith in God that makes understanding possible. Once illuminated by faith, reason can now correct misunderstandings, such as misinterpretations of scripture. We need Scripture to guide our reasoning, because man is inclined to rebel and deny his Creator. This inclination comes from sin. And sin affects every aspect of our reasoning. The ethical is set against the metaphysical. By “metaphysical” I mean ultimate reality. By rebelling and refusing to submit to the God of Scripture, we do not see the world and ourselves as we truly are: created by God.