The Divided Field of
Truth:
Presented on December 4th,
2004
First off, what do I mean when I refer to
this disjunction?
I mentioned in my last truth talk that when
I talk to people about the gospel, I often find that they automatically assume
that the truth I am presenting, in so far as it is religious, is necessarily
concerned only with the personal, interior landscape of the individual rather
than the exterior landscape of the objective world. Religious truth is seen as
an inspirational, subjective kind of truth, quite distinct to the solid, fixity
of, say, scientific truth. This, then, is what I mean when I refer to a
disjunction in the contemporary concept of truth.
Of course, this disjunction is
rarely spelled out so explicitly, but on an unconscious level it has almost
become second nature in our culture to separate religious truth from normal
truth. This division is so pervasive that leaders in government and law you can
get in trouble if their decisions are influenced by a religious conviction,
since a religious belief, almost by definition, is a personal affair that must
not intrude into the public arena.
As far as I can tell, it was the
English Francis Bacon (1561-1626) who was the first to get people to begin
thinking in terms of there being two different kinds of truth. The reason why
Bacon believed there were two kinds of truth lay in another belief of his,
namely his belief in empiricism. Empiricism refers to the theory that the only
possible way to acquire knowledge is through the senses. It is impossible to
know anything apart from what you can actually observe in the concrete world.
Bacon’s thinking was in reaction to
the Western philosophical tradition of Plato, Aristotle and the medieval
Scholastics, with it’s emphasis on deductive proofs and abstract categories of
logic.
Not only did Bacon teach that
knowledge through observation was the way of progress, the way of the future,
but he also preached that this was the only ‘humble’ way. To vainly presume our
minds capable of discovering any truth through abstract reasoning was, plainly,
symptomatic of the worst type of intellectual pride.
But is it possible to divide
knowledge up like this? Mathematics is a case in point of how difficult it is
to impose a rigid disjunction between reasoning that is inductive or concrete vs.
reasoning that is deductive and abstract. It is revealing that in his paranoia
of anything abstract, Bacon de-emphasized the usefulness of mathematics in the
experimental method, placing mathematics in the same compartment as metaphysics
and religion. Bacon’s successors, on the other hand, would want to claim
mathematics for the empirical camp. Be that as it may, Bacon’s important
contribution to history was in cutting knowledge up like this, assigning one
part of human experience to one compartment, the other part of human experience
in another compartment, and then putting a sign between the compartments saying
“never the twain shall meet!”
It hardly needs pointing out that
the implications of this divided field of knowledge went beyond simply a polarization
between deduction and induction or between the experimental method vs.
deductive reasoning, but effected the more practical categories of science vs.
religion, faith vs. reason, theology vs. nature, etc.. According to Bacon, each
of these realms operated according to a different set of rules. As Tarnis puts
it, summarizing Bacon’s thought, “Each realm had its own laws and its own
appropriate method…. Kept rightly separate, both theology and science could
better flourish…”
Because belief in God belongs in the
non-empirical category – since God is invisible - it followed that according to
Bacon’s criteria of knowledge that it is impossible to infer anything about God
from the natural world. Thus, Bacon wrote that
Nothing of God’s nature and
essence is to be found through the study of this world. There is no divine
efficiency in its movement or divine form in its structure. It possesses no
divine causation, divine motivation or any attributes of divinity. It is formed
matter acting through varieties of locomotion inherent within itself and
nothing more.
The
Dualities of the Enlightenment
Throughout the 17th century and
into the Enlightenment period of the 18th century, thinkers
continued to develop the empiricist concept. Thus, you had philosophers such as
John Locke who said that man was born with his mind as a blank slate and,
elsewhere, that “there is nothing in the intellect that was not previously in
the senses.” No knowledge is therefore possible about anything invisible, like
the soul, like angels…like God. All we can know is what we can go out and
observe in the empirical world.
With this outlook came a gradual, but
eventually pervasive, acceptance of empiricism’s natural corollary, Bacon’s
divided field of knowledge. Any belief that cannot be verified through
empirical/observational means, is a personal, inspirational, subjective kind of
truth, quite distinct from the public, objective, verifiable truth of the real
world of fact.
This is actually only one
among many artificial divisions imposed at the time of the Enlightenment. N. T.
Wright has written that the splitting apart of history and faith, facts and
values, religion and politics, nature and supernature, liberal and
conservative, can all be traced make to the 18th century. One might
also mention the severing of the spirit from the body that occurred as a
consequence of the Enlightenment idea that man is nothing more than a machine.
The consequence of all these divisions, to quote again from Wright, is that
“each of those categories now carries with it, in the minds of millions of
people around the world, an implicit opposition to its twin, so that we are
left with the great difficulty of even conceiving of a world in which they
belong to one another as part of a single indivisible whole.”
The Ring of Power
Gotthold Lessing
(1729-81) was an important figure in the German Enlightenment and I mention him
because he wrote a famous play called Nathan the Wise which subtlety preaches this divided field of truth.
In the play, an Islamic
Sultan asks the Jewish Nathan an important question. The question is this,
which religion is the correct one between Judaism, Islam and Christianity.
To answer Nathan tells
the following parable. There was once a rich man who possessed a magic ring.
This ring had secret power which caused the owner of the ring to gain favour in
the sight of God and humankind. Now the owner of this ring took precautions to
leave the ring in his family, ensuring that it was faithfully passed on from
generation to generation, from son to son. Finally, the ring reached a man who
had three sons, each of which he loved alike. As the father drew near his
death, he was in a quandary as to which son to leave the ring to, as he had
promised the ring, in turn, to each.
As a solution, the father
secretly contacted a craftsman who made two identical replicas of the ring. Not
being able to distinguished the original, the father left each son with one of
the three rings. Of course, when the father died, disputes immediately arose
between the sons since each believed they possessed the magic ring.
At this point, Nathan
pauses the story to say that just as it was impossible to distinguish which was
the correct ring, in a similar way, we cannot trust ourselves to distinguish
the grounds on which the different religions rest.
The story continues with
each of the three sons believing their ring to be the true one since each had
received it directly from the hand of the father. In the end the brothers take
their problem before a judge. The judge enjoins the brothers that what is more
important than knowing the truth about their rings, is the motivation and
inspiration each will achieve through believing that their ring is the genuine one.
Thus ends the parable
that Nathan used to answer the Sultan’s question, namely, which religion is the
correct one. We could say that in the parable, of course, one of the rings
actually was the correct one, so two
of the brothers would have spent their life believing something false, but that
would be to miss the whole point Lessing is trying to make. The point – and I
speak from the perspective Lessing’s whole belief system – is that there is something far more
important than questions of truth and falsehood in the narrow, letter-of-the-law
sense. Stop trying to defend what you believe is true and concentrate on
letting that belief motivate and inspire you. There is no need for factual coherence to be
antecedent to religious belief as it must be with scientific belief; rather,
the nature of religious belief is such that it can exist on its own, so to
speak, without needing to appeal to historic grounds. In fact, Lessing saw the
very attempt of Christians to defend the historical veracity of their faith as
intolerant since it failed to recognize that all the major religions, if
rightly understood, were equally valuable routes to God.
The Reduction of Religious Truth
The situation before us,
then, is one where religious truth is relegated to the realm of the subjective,
private and unverifiable, juxtaposed with the kind of truth that can be
uncovered by science which is objective, public and verifiable. Thus, in his
survey of the Western mind, Tarnis speaks of the “double-truth universe” that
began to arrive.
Thus arose the
psychological necessity of a double-truth universe. Reason and faith came to be
seen as pertaining to different realms, with Christian philosophers and
scientists, and the larger educated Christian public, perceiving no genuine
integration between the scientific reality and the religious reality.
This
distinction was of more than mere philosophical significance, as it invited
people to view religion and worship of God as a personal affair - a solitary experience between
the individual and God that had little relevance to the objective world. What
you believe is up to you, but don’t let that infringe on public reality. Such
sentiments have, of course, become the commonplace tripe of the spirit of this
age. Hence, people treat their
religious beliefs as their own personal property in a way they do not treat
beliefs about the external world, as if the act of believing is its own
justification.
When the
Enlightenment sent out to isolate Christianity from the public, objective
world, not only was it necessary to conceive faith in purely subjective terms,
but the sharp and craggy message of Jesus was reconstructed in terms of
timeless platitudes. This enabled Jesus to be seen as a great moral teacher
(even “the supreme moralist”
of the Jefferson Bible) whose example might be adduced to champion
humanitarianism and condemn religious hypocrisy, but whose relevance in the public,
objective world was either limited or non-existent. The
exclusivist claims of Christian theology were replaced by a ‘faith’ that was
common to all religions, undergirded by a rhetoric of brotherly love as
inspirational as it was vague.
Of course, the most
crucial reduction of religion was in the area of truth, as we have seen. To
seek objective verification about a religious claim is almost to commit a
category mistake, since the ‘truth’ of religion is a personal truth that is
discontinuous with the fixity of the external world of science and history.
Romanticism Resurrects Religion?
In compartmentalizing
religion, the Enlightenment was able to minimize it and promote a secular
vision of society. However, beginning with Rousseau towards the end of the 18th
century, and culminating in the romantic movement of the 19th, the
tables changed. People began to react against the Enlightenment’s antagonistic
approach to religion, and not only religion, but the unspoken opposition the
Enlightenment had championed against such things as mystery, enthusiasm,
emotion, flux, spontaneity and, of course, the spiritual dimension. What is
interesting about the way the Romantic movement revived the religious and
spiritual element was that it occurred entirely within the Enlightenment’s
framework of the double-truth world. Consequently, not only did romanticism
accomplished little to stem the time of the Enlightenment’s legacy, but it
simply broadened and propelled the vision while, at the same time, appearing to provide an
alternative.
Imagine things like this.
The legacy of Bacon and the Enlightenment had left reality divided into two
compartments. One of the compartments was small and inconsequential while the
other compartment was Big and Important. The small and inconsequential
compartment was, of course, that which contained the religious and spiritual,
while the other contained the secular vision. Now what the Romantic period did,
beginning as early as Rousseau, was not to enter into the room, empty both
compartments out onto the floor and begin the momentous task of sorting things
out into a more integrated world view. Rather, the romantics went into the room
and simply made the religious and spiritual compartment the Big and Important
one, while still preserving the foundational separation between the two.
As the Romantic movement grew
throughout the 19th century, spirituality returned to the fore.
However, this was a spirituality emptied of all content. Against a backdrop of
nearly two thousand years of Christian tradition, the Romantics had plenty of
words, phrases and symbols to draw upon that were rich in spiritual
connotation. By using these words and symbols in the new context of
Romanticism, one could gradually imbue everything with a network of spiritual
associations that gave a semantical illusion of meaning without substantial
content. Furthermore, because the heart rather than the head was now in the
driving seat, one was absolved from having to offer precise definitions amidst
this floating web of intuitions. Thus, in many ways the Romantics lived in the
best of both worlds. Like the composer Robert Schumann, they could be religious
without having a religion, while comfortably hiding behind the kind of humility
that, in refusing to be dogmatic, goes and does what it likes.
Throughout this time, the Enlightenment disjunctions only
continued in a wider divergence. The ‘outer’ world was left to the
scientists, who continued to describe the nature of the cosmos and the human
machine in increasingly mechanistic terms, while the Romantics focused on the
West’s ‘inner’ culture, namely it’s art and literature and religious vision.
The Privitisation of Christianity
Up to
now we have been occupied with looking at developments in the secular culture,
in particular the redefinition of religious truth. But now we need to ask
ourselves, what was going on in the Christian community all this time? Did the
church accept or challenge the Enlightenment’s disjunction of truth?
Many Christians were caught off
guard by the Enlightenment. While rejecting the Enlightenment’s
conclusions, few Christian thinkers took the challenge of offering a rational
critique of the assumptions on which these conclusions were based. Like the
Romantics, serious Christians tended to emphasize the importance of religious
truth, while still unconsciously accepting the redefinition of that truth as
being something that is subjective, private and non-rational. Thus, rather than
thinking through their faith
and trying to find answers to the attacks being waged against the Bible, they
took refuge in an emotional, devotional kind of Christianity that did not
require any intellectual underpinning.
On the surface, Christianity
seemed to spread in the late 18th and 19th centuries.
Movements sprung up all over the place, including the Quakers and Methodists in
England, the Great Awakening in America, Jansenism in France, Pietism in
Germany, etc.. However, beneath the progress that Christianity was making, was
an underlying, usually unconscious, acceptance of the Enlightenment’s
dualities. Although the founders of most of these movements were far from being
anti-intellectual themselves, these movements tended to emphasize the personal,
emotional and subjective aspects of faith at the expense of the objective,
public elements. In the end this led to
an almost exclusive emphasis on saving souls and leaving the domains of
culture, society, politics and philosophy firmly in the hands of the
secularists. The Enlightenment’s compartmentalization of the sacred and the
secular, together with their definition of which belonged in which, seemed to
be winning the day.
As time progressed, this
bifurcation only heightened, culminating in the strident anti-intellectualism
at the turn of the last century with evangelists like Dwight Moody and Billy
Sunday. However, as the 20th century progressed, and Christians
found themselves confronted with difficult ethical, environmental and
philosophical questions, many have been gradually trying to pursue a more
integrated approach to truth. God has provided this century with many inspired
Christian thinkers, such as Francis Schaeffer and C. S. Lewis, to help us in
this task. Be that as it may, on a popular level, the Enlightenment’s
categories still persist very strongly amongst most of the Christian church.
Finally, I would like to end
with some practical pointers on how, we as Christians, can combat the divided
field of truth. In addressing all of life, the Bible commits us to an
integrated field of truth. Although the Bible does not specifically mention
every topic there is, it provides overarching principles that can be used to
assess any area of life. As Edwin Rian writes, “Christianity is a world and
life view and not simply a series of unrelated doctrines. Christianity includes
all of life. Every realm of knowledge, every aspect of life and every facet of
the universe find their place and their answer within Christianity. It is a
system of truth enveloping the entire world in its grasp.”
When we share the gospel with
unbelievers, we must take extra care to let people know that we are presenting
Christianity as something that is true in the fullest and most integrated
sense. This is hard to do since many Christians do not even treat their faith
as if it is true in this wider sense. It should be part of our witness, as well
as a natural response to discipleship, to seek to apply Biblical truth to every
area of our personal lives, resisting the inclination to reserve it for
spiritual compartments. The teaching of the Bible should permeate the whole of
one’s existence. This includes seeking to apply Biblical truth to every area of
thinking, not just about spiritual and religious topics. As John Newman wrote,
“All the branches of knowledge are connected together, because the subject
matter of knowledge is intimately united in itself, as being the acts and the
work of the Creator.”
Return to Robin Phillips HOMEPAGE
You are invited
to join my mailing list!
As a member of my mailing list, you
will receive automatic notification about additional material and features on
this site, as well as occasional newsletters. To join, send a blank email to
largerhope @
tiscali.co.uk
with “Join” in
the subject heading. To unjoin, send a blank email with “Unjoin” in the subject
heading.
(Note: for
anti-spam purposes, the above email address has had spaced inserted before and
after the @ sign. The address will only work after deleting these spaces.)