Reach Out and Touch Reality
Here’s a neat trick: define religious faith as “an irrational attachment to a pre-existing idea regardless of any evidence that contradicts it” and then ask if religions that rely on faith are equally out of touch with reality. Well, yeah, if you define faith that way, as Greta Christina does, then by definition religions fundamentally rely on an irrational attachment to ideas about reality that evidence clearly indicates are false, and so they’re clearly not reaching out to touch reality. And they’re irrational, by definition. Case closed.
Christina’s on slightly more solid ground when stating that “any belief in a supernatural world that affects the natural one is equally implausible, equally the product of cognitive biases, equally unsupported by any good evidence.” Here she speaks of evidence not supporting, rather than contradicting, the religious idea. I’m assuming she knows the difference even though her writing seems to conflate the two. She asserts that “all of [religions] contort, ignore, or deny reality in order to maintain their attachment to their faith.” Her example of the Eucharist, however, which she charmingly calls a “magic cracker” that “literally becomes the body of their god when they eat it,” involves no contortion, ignorance, or denial. The doctrine presupposes a supernatural occurrence beyond the empirically verifiable or indicative—Christina’s limited standard of having touched reality—but nothing empirically verifiable can contradict it. Oh, and by the way, Christina’s use of the word “when” in describing the Eucharist betrays her fundamental ignorance of the religious idea. Come on! At least get the idea right before you dismiss it.
Religious faith presupposes an encounter with reality beyond the physical senses. Clearly some religions make claims about the material world that science and other disciplines have contradicted, but not every religion disrespects non-religious disciplines in such manner. Christina seems to take it as a fault that some particular religions have rethought their understandings of the world in light of new discoveries and new evidence, but this willingness to rethink speaks of religion’s respect for science and for reality. And do I have to point out the scientists have also rethought their fundamental ideas about reality when new evidence comes to light? I suppose when scientists reform their ideas, they’re not “presenting a plausible face and shoehorning their beliefs around reality.”
Science has given religious people cause to reconsider reality and their own religions, especially in cases where their religion speaks about the material world; but as science has developed, it has also given non-religious people cause to rethink reality and the ways they understand it. This shared reformation of the mind doesn’t really interest Christina, though, because from her perspective, any talk of a world beyond that which is perceivable by the senses is unequivocally crazy talk.
Comments are closed.
Well expressed, Kyle.
Of course she’s defining “rational” as “demonstrable by the physical sciences”, thus anything not physically detectable or measurable is not worthy of belief. A position which itself is not demonstrable by the physical sciences.
Thanks, Agellius, but that’s just crazy talk. ;-)
Who’s Greta Christina? Internet atheists are a dime a dozen.
Someone more widely read than I am?
Kyle, why do you read these people?
To understand where they’re coming from. I’m not always successful.
Great post, Kyle!
Thank you, Teresa.
Hi Kyle:
What lesson are we to learn from Greta? Her strident caricatures and put-downs are so heavy-handed I find it hard to imagine anyone abandoning a robust faith on account of reading her blog. Why should I concern myself if she doesn’t seem to understand faith, and is appropriately dismissive?
Isn’t this a case of “if you don’t like what she writes, don’t visit her blog site”?
I’m intrigued by atheist and agnostic arguments against God’s existence, the idea of God, and religion and faith in general. I find some of their criticisms valid. Those I don’t or those that caricature I still like giving an ear and a response, sometimes, if for no other reason than unbelief and anti-belief are becoming more socially acceptable and so more common.
I’m sure you can find much better coherent arguments then the ones put out by this blogger.
Kyle, put a comment on her blog.
“an irrational attachment to a pre-existing idea regardless of any evidence that contradicts it”
This is not a definition of faith, but a definition of fundamentalism.
Atheists can be just as crazy a bunch of fundy’s as any bible thumper. That’s why you can’t argue with them. They are invincibly certain about what they believe. One quick glance at the rhetoric on her blog tells me that a person could not engage in a constructive discussion with her. She sounds and talks just like every other “internet infidel” out there.
Isn’t a more interesting and revelatory discourse about religion based on dear/not-dear, or fond/not-fond?? I know one needs to add the notion of “the truth” in there somewhere, but I don’t think it is excluded by those options. The rational/irrational argument about religion is utterly exhausted. It will tell us nothing new . That Holy Water font is bone dry! Religion is personal, so many aspects of it become close to the heart, and very dear. It stands to simple reason that many aspects of life, morality, hard-nosed reality, take a second seat to what we love. That is something true of every human being. And any theory that ignores this simple fact of our existence is bereft of anything to say ultimately. The only question is can we be kind to others about what they hold dear?? I vote yes. That does not mean we have to endorse every ramification of that belief. I like Richard Rorty’s comment that one of the commandments of kindness is not to “forcibly re-describe others for themselves.” We can concentrate on re-describing the ramifications of what they believe.
On another note, any comment on the Catholic Eucharist that does not include an appreciation for all the great music it has inspired is ridiculous. And on the “when” question, let us recall the medieval comment on the Eucharist, maybe by Thomas himself: “When the Blessed Sacrament is carried in procession it does not move.”
Brian Killian–
Isn’t it also true that the atheist can’t argue with you, because you are “invincably certain about what [you] believe”? Isn’t there simply projection taking place from both positions; neither of which is necessarily shown to have been proven by reason?
How is modifying a cast stone with the word “internet” the strengthening of an argument? How does “internet” become a pejorative (especially when that transformation is occuring on the internet?)
How does one assess another’s carefully laid-out position in “a glance?”
Can you explain why you evidently do not believe what you call “fundamentalism” to be a valid expression of what you call “faith?”
Excellent point about projection, Rodak. You triggered the thought that to be human is to believe in something and that being human is a continuum of beliefs each with its identifiable categories which can be diagrammed into a subset of core beliefs each with its own subset of beliefs supporting the core belief and so on and so on, etc. What this seems to accomplish is the fragmenting of human relationships into those who believe as I do versus those who do not resulting in human conflict. The resolution?
Isn’t it also true that the atheist can’t argue with you, because you are “invincably certain about what [you] believe”? Isn’t there simply projection taking place from both positions; neither of which is necessarily shown to have been proven by reason?
There is at least this difference, namely that one of the positions insists that it is grounded in reason and reason alone. For such a position, that its claims are not “necessarily shown to have been proven by reason” is rather a serious flaw. Faith, on the other hand, happily and rightly admits that it is grounded on things which exceed the power of (unaided) reason to know, so that not having been proven by reason is accepted from the start. Granted, Christian faith does admit that it is not contrary to reason, but neither is it reducible to reason.
Rodak said:
‘Isn’t it also true that the atheist can’t argue with you, because you are “ invincibly certain about what [you] believe”? ‘
That would be true if I were also a fundamentalist. But I don’t think I am, or I at least try not to be. What was it Chesterton said, “only materialists and mad men never doubt”? I doubt all the time, and I’m capable of trying to understand where another person is coming from. I’m also capable of questioning my own positions and beliefs to see if they are really as well grounded as I think they are. The problem with the fundamentalist mentality (of any stripe) is that they aren’t prepared to do those things, which makes any discussion a waste of time.
A fruitful discussion is one where people really want to listen to each other and understand each other. It is where people on both sides have enough respect for the truth, that they have the humility to admit when an argument is strong or weak, that there might be chinks in their armour, or holes in their fortress. It requires an open mind.
But the fundamentalist mind is *closed*.
I have enough experience with protestant and atheist fundamentalists to know how futile it is trying to have an honest discussion with them. Remember that scene in Monty Python and the Holy Grail where Arthur fights the black night?
Arthur keeps cutting off his limbs, but the black night is incapable of acknowledging what is going on in the fight. The black knight insists that nothing is wrong, he still believes even without arms and legs, that he will defeat Arthur and keep him from crossing the bridge. He is invincibly certain that he is the winner. What can Arthur do in the end? Well, the black night can’t be reasoned with, there is nothing for Arthur to do but leave.
Every fundamentalist is like that black night. You can fight if you want, but you aren’t dealing with honest people. You are ‘debating’ haters, people who just want to mock and score points. It’s better to just leave.
“You are ‘debating’ haters, people who just want to mock and score points. It’s better to just leave.”
And there is nothing dismissive and hateful, I suppose, about “Internet atheists are a dime a dozen” or “as crazy a bunch of fundy’s as any bible thumper” or “She sounds and talks just like every other ‘internet infidel’ out there”…?
Aren’t you, in fact, “losing a limb” with every one of those slurs, while believe yourself to be “scoring points” toward the end of winning something? At least it was Arthus cutting off the Black Knight’s limbs–not the BK himself…
Dominic–
When I hear the term “fundamentalist” I think of a person who defends his belief system upon a literal translation of a sacred text, or texts. Anything contradicting those texts is dismissed without further discussion. Anything not covered directly by those texts is subject to arbitration by analogy to what is covered in those texts. The fundamentalist reserves the right to interpret the texts personally for that purpose. He believes that his God demands this of him. He believes that his God will lead him to the correct interpretation, if he asks his God for help toward that end.
When I hear the term “atheist” several possibilities come to mind. The only important one (to my mind) is the positivist. The positivist says that if a question can’t be answered by employing logic and/or empirical testing to resolve its truth or falsity, then the question is absurd and shouldn’t even be asked. It would seem to me that we cannot be dismissive of either of these positions. Each is defensible enough to demand respect and reasoned opposition. In order to undertake such reasoned opposition, it is necessary to fully understand the predicates of the system that one is opposing. For this reason, Kyle Cupp’s musings are the musings of an honest (and fearless) truth-seeker.
The most important aspect of religion, faith or no faith which has been ignored and, from an outsider’s perspective seems to be absent, is the foundation of love which is source of life to any belief system that values creation and the belief in a Creator. It appears to the outsider that the rituals are empty, the theology is empty and thus the “magic cracker” is also empty. Why? Because our cup overflows with knowledge rather than love. “We will be known by how we love one another.” The blog we have been discussing is the fruit of our ability to act out that love. We have failed.
Rodak,
You wrote: “When I hear the term “fundamentalist” I think of a person who defends his belief system upon a literal translation of a sacred text, or texts. Anything contradicting those texts is dismissed without further discussion.”
This sounds like a definition of “fundamentalist” which has been put on a Procrustean bed. Because on a world-wide scale many fundamentalists, who have in common that they want to get down to some fundamental matter of their faith, have quite varying relations to sacred texts per se. Ironically, this is seen very forcefully in the Christian tradition itself, even though it is in that tradition that sacred text “inerrancy” has become most famous. Take the central question of the Trinity. One of the things that historians have pointed out, utterly correctly as I see it, is that the Reformers were quite against the idea of Sacred Tradition as seen in the Catholic Church, EXCEPT when they needed to be. And boy o’ boy the case of the Trinity was one spot where they didn’t want to be utterly focussed on the exact words of Scripture. Now I know that even Catholics are touchy on this question today, insisting that there are many, many spots in the NT that bolster the notion of Triune God. But this is a new tack on their part mostly. Previously they relied mostly on an exegesis grounded in Sacred tradition rather than the inverse, strict exegesis itself. But that was in the past, before the revelations about a lot of matters involving Neo-Platonism messy past in Christian history generally, that don’t need to be rehearsed here – kinda recondite and boring! But the broad sense is that on the one hand you have the overwhelmingly massive collection of influential Neo-Platonic sources for the Trinity; and on the other you have the rather attenuated and indirect ones from Scripture. The non-fundamentalist answer would be open to asking: Which do you think is the more likely source for the belief in the Triune God, the philosophical system of Plotinus and and his antecedents whose entire thought would seem to necessitate some sort of Trinity if admixed with the thinking of Jesus of Nazareth? Or the very meagre evidence from the New Testament in need of lots of “interpretation”. Pretty obvious choice I think if one is not looking at it from the non-fundamentalist point of view. So the circle is closed then. The belief in the Trinity is the apotheosis of the need for “interpretation” of Scripture. And it is significant, as I said, that the Reformers seem to have made this one big exception in their Sola Scriptura demands on this point.
These ideas have been around since the 19th Century. And one interpretation of the rise of biblical studies itself as a modern discipline is that far from raising questions about the veracity of Scripture it was needed as a way of saving Sacred Tradition, on questions like the Trinity, even for Protestants!
I have no argument with what you say. Nor do I have any stake in defending “fundamentalist,” or any other label. My intent in this discussion is to suggest that nothing is to be gained by name-calling. I think that scriptural inerrancy is at the core of what most people mean when they scornfully employ terms such as “bible thumper.” It is the use of term, rather than what it connotes (in any of its permutations) to which I object.
That said, the concept of the Triune God is quite easy to find in the New Testament. It is mostly the various defenses of that concept against the charge of polytheism which rely on tradition.
Rodak,
I appreciate your underlying point of view, and I see it in your comments generally. And I am not here to argue against believing in the Trinity. Personally I see it as something that can help us understand the “kenotic” nature of God better, rather than as a dogma. So please don’t take my comments here as an effort to dissuade as to belief. But I stand by my contention that it requires something fundamentalist. Don’t take my word for it, take Pope Benedict’s. If the moderator will allow I would like to quote at length from Pope Benedict’s Regensburg Address (somehow I feel quoting a Pope should be given a little extra latitude on this site) . In it he seems to make a fundamentalist use of Greek philosophy itself, which takes a special kind of mind (and I don’t necessarily mean that as a compliment). I use it because it both shows the true nature of the debate, especially for Catholics, and locates it evocatively in the history of ideas:
“It is a moving experience for me to be back again in the university and to be able once again to give a lecture at this podium. I think back to those years when, after a pleasant period at the Freisinger Hochschule, I began teaching at the University of Bonn. That was in 1959, in the days of the old university made up of ordinary professors. The various chairs had neither assistants nor secretaries, but in recompense there was much direct contact with students and in particular among the professors themselves. We would meet before and after lessons in the rooms of the teaching staff. There was a lively exchange with historians, philosophers, philologists and, naturally, between the two theological faculties. Once a semester there was a dies academicus, when professors from every faculty appeared before the students of the entire university, making possible a genuine experience of universitas – something that you too, Magnificent Rector, just mentioned – the experience, in other words, of the fact that despite our specializations which at times make it difficult to communicate with each other, we made up a whole, working in everything on the basis of a single rationality with its various aspects and sharing responsibility for the right use of reason – this reality became a lived experience. The university was also very proud of its two theological faculties. It was clear that, by inquiring about the reasonableness of faith, they too carried out a work which is necessarily part of the “whole” of the universitas scientiarum, even if not everyone could share the faith which theologians seek to correlate with reason as a whole. This profound sense of coherence within the universe of reason was not troubled, even when it was once reported that a colleague had said there was something odd about our university: it had two faculties devoted to something that did not exist: God. That even in the face of such radical scepticism it is still necessary and reasonable to raise the question of God through the use of reason, and to do so in the context of the tradition of the Christian faith: this, within the university as a whole, was accepted without question.
I was reminded of all this recently, when I read the edition by Professor Theodore Khoury (Münster) of part of the dialogue carried on – perhaps in 1391 in the winter barracks near Ankara – by the erudite Byzantine emperor Manuel II Paleologus and an educated Persian on the subject of Christianity and Islam, and the truth of both.[1] It was presumably the emperor himself who set down this dialogue, during the siege of Constantinople between 1394 and 1402; and this would explain why his arguments are given in greater detail than those of his Persian interlocutor.[2] The dialogue ranges widely over the structures of faith contained in the Bible and in the Qur’an, and deals especially with the image of God and of man, while necessarily returning repeatedly to the relationship between – as they were called – three “Laws” or “rules of life”: the Old Testament, the New Testament and the Qur’an. It is not my intention to discuss this question in the present lecture; here I would like to discuss only one point – itself rather marginal to the dialogue as a whole – which, in the context of the issue of “faith and reason”, I found interesting and which can serve as the starting-point for my reflections on this issue.
In the seventh conversation (διάλεξις – controversy) edited by Professor Khoury, the emperor touches on the theme of the holy war. The emperor must have known that surah 2, 256 reads: “There is no compulsion in religion”. According to some of the experts, this is probably one of the suras of the early period, when Mohammed was still powerless and under threat. But naturally the emperor also knew the instructions, developed later and recorded in the Qur’an, concerning holy war. Without descending to details, such as the difference in treatment accorded to those who have the “Book” and the “infidels”, he addresses his interlocutor with a startling brusqueness, a brusqueness that we find unacceptable, on the central question about the relationship between religion and violence in general, saying: “Show me just what Mohammed brought that was new, and there you will find things only evil and inhuman, such as his command to spread by the sword the faith he preached.”[3] The emperor, after having expressed himself so forcefully, goes on to explain in detail the reasons why spreading the faith through violence is something unreasonable. Violence is incompatible with the nature of God and the nature of the soul. “God”, he says, “is not pleased by blood – and not acting reasonably (σὺν λόγω) is contrary to God’s nature. Faith is born of the soul, not the body. Whoever would lead someone to faith needs the ability to speak well and to reason properly, without violence and threats… To convince a reasonable soul, one does not need a strong arm, or weapons of any kind, or any other means of threatening a person with death…”.[4]
The decisive statement in this argument against violent conversion is this: not to act in accordance with reason is contrary to God’s nature.[5] The editor, Theodore Khoury, observes: For the emperor, as a Byzantine shaped by Greek philosophy, this statement is self-evident. But for Muslim teaching, God is absolutely transcendent. His will is not bound up with any of our categories, even that of rationality.[6] Here Khoury quotes a work of the noted French Islamist R. Arnaldez, who points out that Ibn Hazm went so far as to state that God is not bound even by his own word, and that nothing would oblige him to reveal the truth to us. Were it God’s will, we would even have to practise idolatry.[7]
At this point, as far as understanding of God and thus the concrete practice of religion is concerned, we are faced with an unavoidable dilemma. Is the conviction that acting unreasonably contradicts God’s nature merely a Greek idea, or is it always and intrinsically true? I believe that here we can see the profound harmony between what is Greek in the best sense of the word and the biblical understanding of faith in God. Modifying the first verse of the Book of Genesis, the first verse of the whole Bible, John began the prologue of his Gospel with the words: “In the beginning was the λόγος”. This is the very word used by the emperor: God acts, σὺν λόγω, with logos. Logos means both reason and word – a reason which is creative and capable of self-communication, precisely as reason. John thus spoke the final word on the biblical concept of God, and in this word all the often toilsome and tortuous threads of biblical faith find their culmination and synthesis. In the beginning was the logos, and the logos is God, says the Evangelist. The encounter between the Biblical message and Greek thought did not happen by chance. The vision of Saint Paul, who saw the roads to Asia barred and in a dream saw a Macedonian man plead with him: “Come over to Macedonia and help us!” (cf. Acts 16:6-10) – this vision can be interpreted as a “distillation” of the intrinsic necessity [!!!!!!!!!!!!] of a rapprochement between Biblical faith and Greek inquiry.
In point of fact, this rapprochement had been going on for some time. The mysterious name of God, revealed from the burning bush, a name which separates this God from all other divinities with their many names and simply asserts being, “I am”, already presents a challenge to the notion of myth, to which Socrates’ attempt to vanquish and transcend myth stands in close analogy.[8] Within the Old Testament, the process which started at the burning bush came to new maturity at the time of the Exile, when the God of Israel, an Israel now deprived of its land and worship, was proclaimed as the God of heaven and earth and described in a simple formula which echoes the words uttered at the burning bush: “I am”. This new understanding of God is accompanied by a kind of enlightenment, which finds stark expression in the mockery of gods who are merely the work of human hands (cf. Ps 115). Thus, despite the bitter conflict with those Hellenistic rulers who sought to accommodate it forcibly to the customs and idolatrous cult of the Greeks, biblical faith, in the Hellenistic period, encountered the best of Greek thought at a deep level, resulting in a mutual enrichment evident especially in the later wisdom literature. Today we know that the Greek translation of the Old Testament produced at Alexandria – the Septuagint – is more than a simple (and in that sense really less than satisfactory) translation of the Hebrew text: it is an independent textual witness and a distinct and important step in the history of revelation, one which brought about this encounter in a way that was decisive for the birth and spread of Christianity.[9] A profound encounter of faith and reason is taking place here, an encounter between genuine enlightenment and religion. From the very heart of Christian faith and, at the same time, the heart of Greek thought now joined to faith, Manuel II was able to say: Not to act “with logos” is contrary to God’s nature.
In all honesty, one must observe that in the late Middle Ages we find trends in theology which would sunder this synthesis between the Greek spirit and the Christian spirit. In contrast with the so-called intellectualism of Augustine and Thomas, there arose with Duns Scotus a voluntarism which, in its later developments, led to the claim that we can only know God’s voluntas ordinata. Beyond this is the realm of God’s freedom, in virtue of which he could have done the opposite of everything he has actually done. This gives rise to positions which clearly approach those of Ibn Hazm and might even lead to the image of a capricious God, who is not even bound to truth and goodness. God’s transcendence and otherness are so exalted that our reason, our sense of the true and good, are no longer an authentic mirror of God, whose deepest possibilities remain eternally unattainable and hidden behind his actual decisions. As opposed to this, the faith of the Church has always insisted that between God and us, between his eternal Creator Spirit and our created reason there exists a real analogy, in which – as the Fourth Lateran Council in 1215 stated – unlikeness remains infinitely greater than likeness, yet not to the point of abolishing analogy and its language. God does not become more divine when we push him away from us in a sheer, impenetrable voluntarism; rather, the truly divine God is the God who has revealed himself as logos and, as logos, has acted and continues to act lovingly on our behalf. Certainly, love, as Saint Paul says, “transcends” knowledge and is thereby capable of perceiving more than thought alone (cf. Eph 3:19); nonetheless it continues to be love of the God who is Logos. Consequently, Christian worship is, again to quote Paul – “λογικη λατρεία”, worship in harmony with the eternal Word and with our reason (cf. Rom 12:1).[10]
This inner rapprochement between Biblical faith and Greek philosophical inquiry was an event of decisive importance not only from the standpoint of the history of religions, but also from that of world history – it is an event which concerns us even today. Given this convergence, it is not surprising that Christianity, despite its origins and some significant developments in the East, finally took on its historically decisive character in Europe. We can also express this the other way around: this convergence, with the subsequent addition of the Roman heritage, created Europe and remains the foundation of what can rightly be called Europe.
The thesis that the critically purified Greek heritage forms an integral part of Christian faith has been countered by the call for a dehellenization of Christianity – a call which has more and more dominated theological discussions since the beginning of the modern age. Viewed more closely, three stages can be observed in the programme of dehellenization: although interconnected, they are clearly distinct from one another in their motivations and objectives.[11]
Dehellenization first emerges in connection with the postulates of the Reformation in the sixteenth century. Looking at the tradition of scholastic theology, the Reformers thought they were confronted with a faith system totally conditioned by philosophy, that is to say an articulation of the faith based on an alien system of thought. As a result, faith no longer appeared as a living historical Word but as one element of an overarching philosophical system. The principle of sola scriptura, on the other hand, sought faith in its pure, primordial form, as originally found in the biblical Word. Metaphysics appeared as a premise derived from another source, from which faith had to be liberated in order to become once more fully itself. When Kant stated that he needed to set thinking aside in order to make room for faith, he carried this programme forward with a radicalism that the Reformers could never have foreseen. He thus anchored faith exclusively in practical reason, denying it access to reality as a whole.
The liberal theology of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries ushered in a second stage in the process of dehellenization, with Adolf von Harnack as its outstanding representative.”
–Now, the first thing I want to say is that I want to side-step the question of the Pope’s comments on Islam. I want to state clearly that I do not endorse them at all. I am here to comment on the matter as it touches Greek philosophy. The first to notice is that if you know the history of religious ideas, Pope Benedict’s contention that the Protestant Reformers represented some “de-hellenizing” is such a over simplification that it is simply false. As I said, it is the conclusion of historians that on important matters like the Trinity they maintained the view that was, the very least we can say, facilitated by Greek philosophy. (Personally what I believe is that I like Greek philosophy AND Christian wisdom, and that the latter shorn of the former is the better part of it.)
But more importantly for our argument here is Benedict’s contention that there is an intrinsic relation between Christian belief and Greek philosophy. He is not saying this for nothing. He well understands that without the support of Greek philosophy a lot of Sacred Tradition has a hard time, especially when looked at from the view of its actual historical development. For I am sorry to put it this way, but your contention that it is easy to find a Triune God in Scripture has not real support in Scripture. Take away the Neo-platonic matrix to understand the Gospel of John (which might be said to be proto-Neo-platonic) and you have not much. To me the great irony is that if you compare the evidence that Jesus taught a message of humility that stressed poverty of spirit as metier (100%) and compare it to whether he taught that God is Triune (maybe 15%) you have a weird conundrum. For down through the ages Christians hardly seem agreed at all on the poverty issue at all, and the Father Siricos of today are proof of that. But on the Triune God question no battle was too great to defend. That says something about the religions strengths and weaknesses.
Post Scriptum:
I forgot to address your point, which is interesting, about the defenses against the charge of polytheism that is the part that relies on Greek traditions. That is really clever, and insightful I gotta admit, but it in Christianity’s history a “distinction without a difference.” For from the start it was involved with having to define its doctrines by way of arguments from without and within about the very nature of those doctrines. And distinguishing itself from polytheism is just a broad heuristic by which to mean wrangling over all the Christological controversies. I don’t think there was a time till much later when these things ceased to be defined by way of opposition to very live detractors (n.b. like the members of an Emperor’s family). If the doctrine of the Trinity had been such a slam-dunk from Scripture the contentious nature of these things would not have ensued, where as Gibbon noted, debates about the nature of the Homousias became as common as day to day prattle on the street.
Christianity is by nature evangelical. It seeks to convert non-believers. It has also been put on the defensive in various ways, at various times, throughout all of its history. Whether in an effort to convert, or in an effort to self-justify, Christians, in order not to be making circular arguments, have necessarily needed to discuss their tenets according to terms acceptable to their adversaries, or potential converts. It accomplishes nothing to tell an atheist that the Bible is true because the Bible says so. It also accomplishes nothing to tell an atheist that what the Magisterium says about the Bible is true because the Bible legitimizes what the Magisterium is and does. This is what Catholics (and other sectarians with other doctrines to defend) tend to forget. Of the fundamental question concerning human existence–Why is there something, rather than nothing?–neither science nor religion can offer anything other than a guess, based on a hunch, an incomplete set of data, the convincing stories of individuals who have claimed immediate experience of the transcendent, and a myriad of other items, all of which must be taken on faith. I call it an aesthetic decision to believe: a spirit-haunted universe is more beautiful than a universe composed entirely of dead matter animated by mindless energy. I would rather listen to Simone Weil than to Jean-Paul Sartre. Whom I don’t much care to listen to is a man with an organization to defend. Such a man is prone to all kinds of failings, based on self-interest and misguided loyalties.
Rodak,
Wow! I bow to you. Excellent!
Likewise.
Thank you, Peter–
But I’d much rather have a critical rejoinder than a bow.
Rodak,
Well as for “critical rejoinders”, I wish Dominic Holtz would comment on this matter, Trinity, Greek philosophy, authority, etc. I am sure he would have a different take on the matter. Or can we assume by silence a default imprimatur?? Not!
Maybe Rodak nailed it:
‘a spirit-haunted universe is more beautiful than a universe composed entirely of dead matter animated by mindless energy. ‘
Perhaps this is asking a bit too much but I would deeply enjoy to read
somebody like Peter Paul Fuchs taking greater intellectual liberty and develop an even clearer vision of his ‘ideal’ religion – or religious philosophy. Certainly reaction to this or that catholic shortcoming gets us all only so far. Why believe?
Grega,
Thanks for the invitation, but this is not the place for it. And anyways, I don’t think there can be an ideal religion. Period. We can nudge things in more healthy directions, and certainly ought to have society encourage cooperation and appreciation rather than anathematization. But beyond that what can we do?? On the other hand, ass an intellectual matter, and even perhaps as a spiritual one, it is good to reflect and debate on such an august tradition as Roman Catholicism. I feel there is value in that alone. There are insights to be gained for modern society just from understanding it, even the medieval minutiae of this grand old church. (BTW, is the Angelicum on vacation??) A lot of insight is missed because people do not have the conceptual skills to really understand this tradition. If a purpose can be construed for internet blather — I’m not excepting myself, of course — then cleaning the conceptual closets, and having a rummage sale might be it.
“ass an intellectual matter” — Oh well, goes to my point on “blather”
Dear Peter Paul,
No, we’re not on vacation at the Angelicum yet! On the contrary, we are in the midst of exams, reading and grading seminar papers, attending to defenses of tesine and the like. So, for my part, my attention is rather elsewhere than at this site, I’m afraid!
I agree, Peter!