Christian Tradition 4 - epilogue

I ended my 3-part series on Christian tradition quite abruptly, so I thought I would add a little note on where I am trying to take these ideas. While I am so amateurish it's not even funny, I will still try to point out some of the more high-brow philosophical paths I dream of walking one day. I am pulled by certain intiuitions rather than a clearly defined agenda, brought to the fore by my reflection on the dynamics of tradition.

One way to articulate these concerns, is that I think we need to engage the problem of how to construe human creativity, representational naming and construction (this is not a list, I am just not sure what to call it), as something else than a sort of alien intrusion upon a more authentic (whether actual or virtual) Reality, while at the same time resisting the temptation to retreat into solipsistic phenomenology, thus 'forgetting' the always-already presence of metaphysical speculation and presumption. In other words, we can't pretend not to have presumptions about the whole of Reality, even though we don't know how to articulate these. And we need to fit our own act (or the 'event') of thinking the structure into the structure, even in the very 'newness' of this act/event.

Here many so-called 'postmodern' philosophies tend to disappoint, exhibiting only a consistent albeit 'dialectic' and self-contradictory working-out (ad absurdum) of the 'modern' logic they claim to (at least ironically) distance themselves from. Whether they speak of 'perspectives', 'illusions', 'representations', or 'cultures', there is always a subtle denigration of the human element compared to Reality as such. Even when they erase the ontological status of 'the human', and speak of fissures or fractures in Reality itself (of which the level we call 'human' is perhaps only a set of events randomly collected for someone's convenience, or some kind of cosmic attempt of self-healing), the represented/repeated/static/named is always of somewhat less ontological solidity than the always-elusive Real. The numerous available 'death-of-god' theologies so popular among many 'emerging' churches disappoint equally, for the same reasons. The 'metaphysics' they fear is, I think, simply a gigantic straw man constructed by themselves for the rushing pleasure of demolishing it - a rush that is allegedly a 'trace of the Real'. However, since these thinkers can only 'enter the void' by deconstruction and a complete rejection of any 'merely human' erection of metaphysical orders, these (theo-)philosophies cannot but deny, ignore and/or forget the instance of their own 'active' thinking, but only deconstruct whatever has been thought - allegedly by others. The 'merely human' is hence only secondary, ontologically speaking, even though it can never be completely eradicated.

Some of the places I register more consistent and fruitful concern with these ideas are:

1) Some writings of self-proclaimed 'radical orthodox' theologian John Milbank, whose early work explored the philosophy of Giambattista Vico, whose philosophy of history and historiography dealt  with questions regarding the relationship between historical action and the act of representing this in historical writing. Milbank's later explorations include ventures into (neo-Platonic) theurgy and (Eastern Orthodox) Sophiology. A central concern in his oeuvre, at least in my reading, is precisely one of the relation between human creativity/representation/construction and Reality as a whole - a question he approaches through categories such as 'mediation', 'relation', and 'participation' in a transcendence represented in (somewhat updated Thomist) terms of Creation, Incarnation and Trinity. While Milbank is perhaps more known for a certain (un)popular historical narrative of theological deviation and decline as lying at the root of the modern secular (where the sensed experience, representation, and 'realness' of Reality have somehow been split apart), I think that to make this narrative as such the central element in his oeuvre is a misreading.

I think the undeniable relevance of Milbank's metaphysics regarding the ontological status of human making has lately been drowned out by quick 'translations' of his work in public debates over 'Red Tory' policy (which tend to anger those who insist on debating within the terms of the modernity Milbank rejects), or, within the rather narrow confines of Dominican scholarship, questions over his reading of - the in that context seemingly untouchable - Thomas of Aquinas. However, on the perspective of Milbank's own metaphysics of human action and Reality, such re-readings of Aquinas are (I would think) not necessarily in themselves any more of a problem than any other instance/act of translation or exegesis.

2) Some writings of French philosopher (and so not primarily sociologist or anthropologist, though he does carry the burden of those titles) Bruno Latour, as well as his former mentor Michel Serres (by the way - thanks to the people over at this fine blog for linking to my pieces on Serres!). Serres invariably describes - albeit in sometimes very poetic and beautiful language - a Reality that is mediation and relation all the way up and all the way down - often centered around the mundane world of the French parish. Reading his work alongside that of Latour reveals how much the latter is indebted to his mentor, even though his (strikingly similar!) metaphysics are articulated in a kind of 'deep empiricism' and material case studies rather than poetic stories and reflections. (It also seems Latour prefers referencing Alfred Whitehead when it comes to philosophy - though his sensitivities are definitely 'Serresian'). Latour's point of departure is precisely the false break between the 'Human' and 'Nature'.

Bruno Latour's big ideas have lately been taken up by a group of philosophers in a movement loosely labeled 'Speculative Realism', who are (rightly so!) utterly unapologetic about their metaphysical speculation. While these readings are right to consider Latour a philosopher, and do deal with some key texts in his oeuvre, my own (amateur!) opinion is that they miss the facets of his work that emerge when he is read alongside Michel Serres, as well from a consideration of his own subtle Catholicism (Harman in fact expresses positive surprise over the fact that Latour's Catholicism does not seem to hamper his ability to speak of God 'on level with' material objects and mediation - as if this was somehow a curious thing. One wonders whether he has heard of "sacraments"...?). Placing relation rather than 'flux' or 'chaos' at the (moving) centre of his metaphysics seems to me to already allow for the kind of ontological 'borders between things' that these sophisticated 'object-oriented' thinkers are calling for. Another key (paradoxical, perhaps, to mentioned philosophers) is that Latour's own PhD was on biblical exegesis, and centered on nothing less than the question of faithful translation - the relatively reliable transmitting of some-thing from one context to another, and the dynamic between stability and change in such events. That Latour has lately extended his ideas to speculate about Reality as such should come as no surprise, even though he is more famous for what he did during what was arguably only a 20-year detour through so-called Science Studies and the articulation of 'Actor Network Theory'.

Alain Badiou: an atheist reads St. Paul

The first in a series of books I have just read that somehow inspired me, is Alain Badiou's book on St.Paul's radical philosophy and politics.

Alain Badiou is one of the contemporary philosophers who despite his announced atheism is exploring Christian doctrine for resources to meet present philosophical and political challenges. In particular, he has engaged with Christian thought as it develops through the work of St. Paul. Most of Badiou's philosophy is hard to understand, since he is often demanding an advanced understanding of mathematics (in particular Cantorian set theory) from his readers. I wish...

One could of course accuse Badiou of simply trying to shape St. Paul in the image of his own philosophy. He is certainly not the only one doing that. His project is nevertheless fascinating because of how he introduces the book to his assumed atheist readers (to whom he obviously feels he has to justify his use of Christian thought at all). Badiou himself states that there are more important distinctions to make in the contemporary world than between 'religion' and philosophy.

Our contemporary world, says Badiou, is a place where there is a homogenizing universalism on the one hand, and a kind of impotent identity politics on the other. What does this mean? On one side, a globalizing market reduces all forms of life to mere numbers on a sheet of paper, drained of any specific quality. Everything can be measured (in terms of money), and compared on the same background. On the other side, there are groups seeking recognition of their 'rights' within this global order, and trying to distinguish themselves from those who do not belong to that particular group.

Badiou claims the conditions we live under are similar to the circumstances of St. Paul, and that we have much to learn from the apostle's radical break with everything around him and his construction of a new way of thinking and living the (his) truth. On the one hand, Paul was surrounded by a Roman empire (our time's global market) that enveloped all particular identities within its geographical borders and the limits of its Greek philosophy. On the other hand, he was engaging with a Jewish community (our time's identity politics and interest groups) that sought to have their particular 'rights' recognized by the Empire, while distinguishing themselves from all the other groups through certain characteristics.

These two forms of 'universalism' always go together - in fact they re-enforce each other -, and both are false to Badiou. What he sees St. Paul doing, then, is to challenge both of these at the same time. St.Paul refuses all the available categories of the world around him ('there is no Greek nor Jew, no male nor female, etc'), and constructs 'from scratch' a completely new kind of practicing community (the Church) that is universal but not homogenizing like the empire, and time/place-specific without being based on particular qualities (showing who's 'in' or 'out') like the Jewish community.

Badiou's reading of St. Paul flies in the face of what many contemporary churches seem to be practicing. Either, the church attempts to subsume everything and everyone into itself (as if it were an Empire) - or it is fighting for its 'rights' to be recognized by the State, while constantly trying to define the criteria for being 'within' and 'outside of' its fold (as if it were just another interest group). Badiou's reading suggests none of these strategies are 'Christian' in the way St. Paul describes it.

Contemporary theologians and self-professed believers might be facing a time when atheist philosophers are prepared to do more radical theological thinking (and practicing) than themselves...

A crash course in contemporary thinking...

...with no name-dropping and as free of technical vocabulary as possible.

(If any professional philosophers read this, I apologize sincerely. Then, on the other hand, why are you, a professional philosopher, reading this blog?)

Philosophy books can be very intimidating for some of us. The vocabulary can be so specialized, and just when you think you have understood a sentence, the next sentence proves you wrong. So here is a quick crash course in contemporary thinking, without any pretentious dropping of French-sounding names, no assumptions about how updated you should be on philosophical debates or terms such as ‘Immanence’, and no implication that you have be a scholar do some good thinking. That does not mean that it will be easy to understand the implications of everything here, this is a crash course after all. There will also be no real answers here, only a way of asking questions, of posing problems, of thinking. That’s kind of the point.

THE big question is 'What is Reality?'

Imagine Reality as a circle, outside of which is nothing. Everything that is, is inside this circle. That seems simple enough, but remember that even lies, misunderstandings, and false ideas cannot be outside the circle. In Reality, there must be a place for the false as well, or we would have to draw two circles. But false ideas do not exist in a parallel reality, but in this one. Therefore, everything that is, is included in Reality, even if its nature is ‘false’.

Enter you, the philosopher.

(Model 1)

Here you are, looking at Reality, tasting it, smelling, feeling, hearing it, thinking of it. What is Reality like? How can you describe it? For many philosophers these are the important questions. How can we know anything about Reality, what are the limits to our understanding, and so on.

But for others another question becomes important: Isn’t it true that you can’t describe Reality as it is anyway, that you only see it from your particular perspective? It’s like you are wearing glasses that are coloured, and so Reality seems to have that colour. Reality seems to be a particular way, but really this is only because of your perspective. And no perspective is perfect. So how then can you see further than your own perspective?

(Model 2)

Some philosophers like the first model of the philosopher looking at Reality, whereas others really get into model two, and the critique of perspectives. The latter have sometimes called the former “modern” and themselves “postmodern”, since they see themselves as coming ‘after’ (post) the ‘moderns’, somehow being aware of (and maybe avoiding) the mistakes of their forerunners. The ‘moderns’ would sometimes respond by calling the ‘postmoderns’ irrational (that they weren’t really all that clever) or relativists (that a result of their thinking would be that anything is equally OK) or inconsistent (that their actual lives could never match up to their theories, since the phrase ‘everything is relative’ could not itself be relative).

I think it is fair to say that neither side represented the other in a very generous way.

But there is another question that arises from both model 1 and 2, that has become more important to some contemporary thinkers.


The model shows the philosopher standing outside of Reality looking in. If so, then why don’t we draw 6 billion little people looking ‘into’ Reality? But the problem here is, of course, that for the philosopher – or for you, for that matter – all other people are part of the Reality she/you is trying to explain. All other people belong inside the big circle, and you look ‘in’ on them. But if they are included in the circle, then the philosopher herself should also be included. If nothing that is, is outside of Reality, then the philosopher and all her thoughts must also be included within it.

(Model 3)

 
This is where much contemporary philosophy takes its starting point (I just call it contemporary, because it isn’t really ‘modern’ or ‘postmodern’ – it doesn’t call itself anything). The thinker, her thoughts, and Reality are parts or aspects of the same ‘thing’ – so what is this thing? How do differences between the thinker and the rest of Reality emerge? How ‘solid’ are the boundaries between different things in Reality? How ‘solid’ are the boundaries of Reality itself? How do new things come into being? What is change? What is that thing we call ‘thought’, and what is its relation to the rest of Reality?

This can make some contemporary philosophy books seem quite strange. While trying to answer the question of what Reality is, the philosopher’s is at the same time trying to fit her own thinking itself (not only her ‘finished’ thoughts, but the process of thinking where more or less fully formed thoughts emerge) into the picture – the book she is writing must be included in the Reality it describes. It is like stories that have stories within them – imagine that the bigger story was to be fitted into the smaller story that is within the bigger story…that’s right, it gets complex and strange.

A few notes on the 'God question':

For those particularly interested (and not turned off by the above simplifications), I want to suggest how the ‘God question’ fits into the three models outlined above.

In the first model, God often figures in two places at once: On the one hand, God is a kind of external assurance that the philosopher will be able to understand Reality as it is, or approximately so. As she is looking at Reality, God hovers above her as the Designer of Reality, who makes sure its laws and principles remain stable and universal. On the other hand, God is a ‘still voice within’, nearer the self than rationality, emotions or any conscious idea. God is either 'out there' to be proved, or 'within' to be experienced. Behind all ‘postmodern’ perspectives, the God of the ‘moderns’ always guarantees the unity and essential stability of Reality, whether from far ‘outside’ or from deep ‘inside’.

In the second model, God often figures as the Other perspective, the Voice that interrupts your story of what Reality is. There is no access to any Reality outside of perspectives, no shortcuts through the known purposes of a grand Designer. Here, God is that nudging sense that all is not complete, the whispering Voice of the voice-less outcasts of any seemingly flawless description. In the face of all ‘modern’ claims of underlying structures and stabilities, the God of the ‘postmoderns’ always interrupts the flow of anything that seemed complete and ‘closed’.

In the third model, the ‘God question’ becomes paradoxical and loses much of its sting altogether. Asking whether God exists or not is very much like asking whether God (whatever is meant by the term) is included in Reality. Now, for Christian theology (since it is here the ‘God question’ is most often debated) this is not really a question that makes sense. On the one hand, God is seen as Creator of the world, and so not a simple part of that world, so it seems the answer should be ‘no’. But, if one answers ‘no, God should not be included in Reality’, this amounts to saying that God does not exist, even while affirming that God is Creator. On the other hand, if one answers ‘yes, God should be included in Reality’, this seems to align God with creation, reducing God to merely one of many things that are ‘out there’ in the world.

In this third model the question whether God exists or not, is a question that makes no sense. What some do, then, is to show that Christian theology has a long history of distinguishing between the ‘existence’ of creation and the ‘Being’ of God. Created things ‘exist’ only by participating in the ‘Being’ of God, they say. Therefore, to affirm that God ‘exists’, is actually technically wrong from a theological point of view. The answer to the ‘God question’ in the third model, is neither ‘yes’ nor ‘no’, but something entirely different than the available alternatives. In a sense it is the question itself that is wrong, since it only makes sense if it first ignores theology – and then demands a theological answer. On this perspective, both model 1 and 2 ask the wrong question. In the third model, then, the question of God is thrown wide open, even though many ‘moderns’ and ‘postmoderns’ do not like it, and so are trying to shut it down again.