A little socializing, like a little whisky, is good. But more is not better. The sobriety of solitary silence is superior to the sloughing off of self into the social, and the value of the latter is to enhance, by way of contrast, the delights of the former. Thus spoke the introvert.
Author: Bill Vallicella
Edith Stein on Cognitio Fidei: Is Faith a Kind of Knowledge?
One finds the phrase cognitio fidei in Thomas Aquinas and in such Thomist writers as Josef Pieper. It translates as 'knowledge of faith.' The genitive is to be interpreted subjectively, not objectively: faith is not the object of knowledge; faith is a form or type of knowledge. But how can faith be a type of knowledge? One ought to find this puzzling.
On a standard analysis of 'knows,' where propositional knowledge is at issue, subject S knows that p just in case (i) S believes that p; (ii) S is justified in believing that p; and (iii) p is true. This piece of epistemological boilerplate is the starting-point for much of the arcana (Gettier counterexamples, etc.) of contemporary epistemology. But its pedigree is ancient, to be found in Plato's Theaetetus.
It is obvious that on the standard analysis mere belief is inferior to knowledge since if I believe what is false I don't have knowledge, and if I believe what is true without justification I don't have knowledge either. How then can mere belief be a form or type of knowledge? It is rather a necessary but not sufficient condition of knowledge. Or so it seems to the modern mind.
Another puzzle has to do with certainty. Whether or not knowledge entails certainty, it seems to the modern mind that belief definitely does not entail certainty: what I believe but do not know I cannot be certain about since if I believe but do not know, then either truth is lacking or justification is lacking or both. How then can mere belief be said to be certain? And yet we read in Aquinas that "It is part of the concept of belief itself that man is certain of that in which he believes." (Quoted from Pieper, Belief and Faith, p. 15).
Is easy to understand how one who believes but does not know that p can be subjectively certain that p; but it is difficult to understand how such a person can be objectively certain that p. Objective certainty, however, alone has epistemic value.
We now turn to the remarkable Edith Stein (1891-1942), brilliant Jewish student of and assistant to Edmund Husserl, philosopher, Roman Catholic convert, Carmelite nun, victim of the Holocaust at Auschwitz, and saint of the Roman Catholic church. In the 1920s Stein composed an imaginary dialogue between her two philosophical masters, Husserl and Aquinas. Part of what she has them discussing is the nature of faith.
One issue is whether faith gives us access to truth. Stein has Thomas say:
. . . faith is a way to truth. Indeed, in the first place it is a way to truths — plural — which would otherwise be closed to us, and in the second place it is the surest way to truth. For there is no greater certainty than that of faith . . . . (Edith Stein, Knowledge and Faith, tr. Redmond, ICS Publications 2000, pp. 16-17)
Now comes an important question. What is it that we as philosophers want? We want the ultimate truths about the ultimate matters. If so, it is arguable that we should take these truths from whatever source offers them to us even if the source is not narrowly philosophical. We should not say: I will accept only those truths that can be certified by (natural) reason, but rather all truths whether certified by reason or 'certified' by faith. Thus Stein has Aquinas say:
If faith makes accessible truths unattainable by any other means, philosophy, for one thing, cannot forego them without renouncing its universal claim to truth. [. . .] One consequence, then, is a material dependence of philosophy on faith.
Then too, if faith affords the highest certainty attainable by the human mind, and if philosophy claims to bestow the highest certainty, then philosophy must make the certainty of faith its own. It does so first by absorbing the truths of faith, and further by using them as the final criterion by which to gauge all other truths. Hence, a second consequence is a formal dependence of philosophy on faith. (17-18)
But of course this cannot go unchallenged by Husserl. So Stein has him say:
. . . if faith is the final criterion of all other truth, what is the criterion of faith itself? What guarantees that the certainty of my faith is genuine? (20)
Or in terms of of the distinction made above between subjective and objective certainty: what guarantees that the certainty of faith is objective and not merely subjective? The faiths of Jew, Christian, and Muslim are all different. How can the Christian be sure that the revelation he takes on faith has not been superseded by the revelation the Muslim takes on faith?
Stein's Thomas replies to Husserl as follows:
Probably my best answer is that faith is its own guarantee. I could also say that God, who has given us the revelation, vouches for its truth. But this would only be the other side of the same coin. For if we took the two as separate facts, we would fall into a circulus vitiosus [vicious circle], since God is after all what we become certain about in faith. [. . .]
All we can do is point out that for the believer such is the certainty of faith that it relativizes all other certainty, and that he can but give up any supposed knowledge which contradicts his faith. The unique certitude of faith is a gift of grace. It is up to the understanding and will to draw the practical consequences therefrom. Constructing a philosophy on faith belongs to the theoretical consequences. (20-22)
So there you have it. There are two opposing conceptions of philosophy, one based on the autonomy of reason, the other willing to sacrifice the autonomy of reason for the sake of truths which cannot be certified by reason but which are provided by faith in revelation. It looks as if one must simply decide which of these two conceptions to adopt, and that the decision cannot be justified by (natural) reason.
My task, in this and in related posts, is first and foremost to set forth the problems as clearly as I can. Anyone who thinks this problem has an easy solution does not understand it. It is part of the tension between Athens and Jerusalem.
Primum Non Nocere
"First of all, do no harm." Not just for medicos. Also for the benighted politicos who would 'fix' health care. Their approach is a bit like fixing a roof leak by tearing down the house and building a new one.
And don't you just love the way these idiots use 'fix' and broken'? Talk like a first-grader and you'll think like one too. And these fools are our rulers?
Not Uxorious, but Appreciative
Having paid tribute to WD-40, the least I can do is pay tribute, once again, to my wife. She may not be a solvent, but she contributes mightily to my being solvent.
As for marriage, it is a good thing if one enters into it for the right reasons, at the right time, and after due consideration. Bear in mind that every man has two heads. The big one is for thinking, the little one for linking. Understand their offices and respective spheres of operation. To cerebrate with the organ of copulation is Clintonian and not conducive unto happiness. Even in the question of marriage, the big head must be the ruling element.
Another Look at Anderson’s Trinitarian Mysterianism (Peter Lupu)
(Hauled up from the vasty deeps of the ComBox into the light of day by BV who supplies minor edits and comments in blue.)
I strongly recommend to everyone interested in the subject to read Anderson’s “In defense of mystery: a reply to Dale Tuggy” (2005), Religious Studies, 41, 145-163 in which he replies to Dale Tuggy’s paper “The unfinished business of Trinitarian theorizing”, Religious Studies, 39(2003), 165-183. I was unable to obtain Dale Tuggy’s original paper.
Continue reading “Another Look at Anderson’s Trinitarian Mysterianism (Peter Lupu)”
The Infirmity of Reason Versus the Certitude of Faith
Reason is infirm in that it cannot establish anything definitively. It cannot even prove that doubting is the way to truth, "that it is certain that we ought to be in doubt." (Pyrrho entry, Bayle's Dictionary, tr. Popkin, p. 205) But, pace Pierre Bayle, the merely subjective certitude of faith is no solution either! Recoiling from the labyrinth into which unaided human reason loses itself, Bayle writes:
It seems therefore that this unfortunate state [the one brought about by the infirmity of reason] is the most proper one of all for convincing us that our reason is a path that leads us astray since, when it displays itself with the greatest subtlety, it plunges us into such an abyss. The natural conclusion of this ought to be to renounce this guide and to implore the cause of all things to give us a better one. This is a great step toward the Christian religion; for it requires that we look to God for knowledge of what we ought to believe and what we ought to do, and that we enslave our understanding to the obeisance of faith. If a man is convinced that nothing good is to be expected from his philosophical inquiries, he will be more disposed to pray to God to persuade him of the truths that ought to be believed than if he flatters himself that he might succeed by reasoning and disputing. A man is therefore happily disposed toward faith when he knows how defective reason is. (206, emphasis added)
Now how is this a solution to the alleged infirmity of reason? A Christian fideist, acquiescing in pure blind (purblind?) faith, accepts the Trinity while a Muslim fideist, equally subjectively certain of his faith, rejects the Trinity while intoning that God is one. Blind conviction butts up against blind conviction of the opposite kind and all too often strife and bloodshed is the upshot.
Continue reading “The Infirmity of Reason Versus the Certitude of Faith”
Athens and Jerusalem at Loggerheads Over the One Thing Needful
The following is highly relevant to our Trinitarian/Christological discussions:
For Leo Strauss, ". . . Western civilization consists of two elements, or has two roots, which are in radical disagreement with each other." ("Progress or Return?" in The Rebirth of Classical Political Rationalism, p. 245) These two elements are the Bible and Greek philosophy, Jerusalem and Athens. The "whole history of the West" is an attempt at harmonizing this radical disagreement. But the various attempts at harmonization were doomed to fail for the following reason:
. . . each of these two roots of the Western world sets forth one thing as the one thing needful, and the one thing needful as proclaimed by the Bible is incompatible, as it is understood by the Bible, with the one thing needful proclaimed by Greek philosophy, as it is understood by Greek philosophy. To put it very simply and therefore somewhat crudely, the one thing needful according to Greek philosophy is the life of autonomous understanding. The one thing needful as spoken by the Bible is the life of obedient love. The harmonizations and synthesizations are possible because Greek philosophy can use obedient love in a subservient function, and the Bible can use philosophy as a handmaid; but what is so used in each case rebels against such use, and therefore the conflict is really a radical one. (Ibid., p. 246, emphasis added.)
I should point out that Strauss goes on to speak of an underlying agreement between the Bible and Greek philosophy, but I'll leave that for a subsequent post. What he says above, though, strikes me as exactly right. First, Western civilization does have the two roots mentioned, a fact apparently missed by the Reverend Jesse Jackson when he sang at Stanford University, "Hey hey, ho, ho, Western Civ has got to go." Did Brother Jesse realize that he was advocating the throwing out of his own bread and butter?
Second, the two roots or elements are in radical, albeit fruitful, tension. Indeed, the vitality of the West, as Strauss remarks elsewhere, derives in good measure from this tension, a tension which, absent in the Islamic world, may help explain the inanition in that world.
ADDENDUM
A reader suggests that Pope Benedict's Regensburg address can be read, in part, as an implicit response to the Straussian thesis of radical disagreement between the Bible and Greek philosophy. Compare this passage:
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.
A Review of Jerrold J. Katz, Sense, Reference, and Philosophy
Here. By Kelley L. Ross, whose site contains a great deal of interesting material. But why anyone would use a black background escapes me.
Another Example of a Necessary Being Depending for its Existence on a Necessary Being
The Father and the Son are both necessary beings. And yet the Father 'begets' the Son. Part, though not the whole, of the notion of begetting here must be this: if x begets y, then y depends for its existence on x. If that were not part of the meaning of 'begets'' in this context, I would have no idea what it means. But how can a necessary being depend for its existence on a necessary being? I gave a non-Trinitarian example yesterday, but it was still a theological example. Now I present a non-theological example.
I assume that there are mathematical (as opposed to commonsense) sets. And I assume that numbers are necessary beings. (There are powerful arguments for both assumptions.) Now consider the set S = {1, 3, 5} or any set, finite or infinite, the members of which are all of them necessary beings, whether numbers, propositions, whatever. Both S and its membership are necessary beings. If you are worried about the difference between members and membership, we can avoid that wrinkle by considering the singleton set T = {1}.
T and its sole member are both necessary beings. And yet it seems obvious to me that one depends on the other for its existence: the set is existentially dependent on the member, and not vice versa. The set exists because — though this is not an empirically-causal use of 'because' — the members exist, and not the other way around. Existential dependence is an asymmetrical relation. I suppose you either share this intuition or you don't. In a more general form, the intuition is that collections depend for their existence on the things collected, and not vice versa. This is particularly obvious if the items collected can also exist uncollected. Think of Maynard's stamp collection. The stamps in the collection will continue to exist if Maynard sells them, but then they will no longer form Maynard's collection. The point is less obvious if we consider the set of stamps in Maynard's collection. That set cannot fail to exist as long as all the stamps exist. Still, it seems to me that the set exists because the members exist and not vice versa.
And similarly in the case of T. {1} depends existentially on 1 despite the fact that there is no possible world in which the one exists without the other. If, per impossibile, 1 were not to exist, then {1} would not exist either. But it strikes me as false to say: If, per impossibile, {1} were not to exist, then 1 would not exist either. These counterfactuals could be taken to unpack the sense in which the set depends on the member, but not vice versa.
It therefore is reasonable to hold that two necessary beings can be such that one depends for its existence on the other. And so one cannot object to the notion of the Father 'begetting' the Son by saying that no necessary being can be existentially dependent upon a necessary being. Of course, this is not to say that other objections cannot be raised.
Can A Necessary Being Depend for its Existence on a Necessary Being?
According to the Athansian Creed, the Persons of the Trinity, though each of them uncreated and eternal and necessary are related as follows. The Father is unbegotten. The Son is begotten by the Father, but not made by the Father. The Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father and the Son. Let us focus on the relation of the Father to the Son. When I tried to explain this to Peter Lupu, he balked at the idea of one necessary being begetting another, claiming that the idea makes no sense. One of his arguments was as follows. If x begets y, then x causes y to begin to exist. But no necessary being begins to exist. So, no necessary being is begotten. A second argument went like this. Begetting is a causal notion. But causes are temporally precedent to their effects. No two necessary beings are related as before to after. Therefore, no necessary being begets another.
I first pointed out in response to Peter that the begetting in question is not the begetting of one animal by another, but a begetting in a different sense, and that whatever else this idea involves, it involves the idea of one necessary being depending for its existence on another. Peter balked at this idea as well. "How can a necessary being depend for its existence on a necessary being?" To soften him up, I looked for a non-Trinitarian case in which a necessary being stands in the asymmetrical relation of existential dependency to a necessary being. Note that I did not dismiss his problem the way a dogmatist might; I admitted that it is a genuine difficulty, one that needs to be solved.
So I said to Peter: Look, you accept the existence of Fregean propositions, items which Frege viewed as the senses of sentences in the indicative mood from which indexical elements (including the tenses of verbs) have been removed and have been replaced with non-indexical elements. You also accept that at least some of these Fregean propositions, if not all, are necessary beings. For example, you accept that the proposition expressed by '7 + 5 = 12' is necessarily true, and you see that this requires that the proposition be necessarily existent. Peter agreed to that.
You also, I said to him, have no objection to the idea of the God of classical theism who exists necessarily if he is so much as possible. He admitted that despite his being an atheist, he has no problem with the idea of a necessarily existent God.
So I said to Peter: Think of the necessarily existent Fregean propositions as divine thoughts. (I note en passant that Frege referred to his propositions as Gedanken, thoughts.) More precisely, think of them as the accusatives or objects of divine acts of thinking, as the noemata of the divine noesis. That is, think of the propositions as existing precisely as the accusatives of divine thinking. Thus, their esse is their concipi by God. They don't exist a se the way God does; they exist in a mind-dependent manner without prejudice to their existing in all possible worlds. To cop a phrase from the doctor angelicus, they have their necessity from another, unlike God, who has his necessity from himself.
So I said to Peter: Well, is it not now clear that we have a non-Trinitarian example in which a necessary being, the proposition expressed by '7 + 5 = 12,' depends for its existence on a necessary being, namely God, and not vice versa? Is this not an example of a relation that is neither merely logical (like entailment) nor empirically-causal? Does this not get you at least part of the way towards an understand of how the Father can be said to beget the Son?
To these three questions, Peter gave a resounding 'No!' looked at his watch and announced that he had to leave right away in order to be able to teach his 5:40 class at the other end of the Valle del Sol.
Dale Tuggy’s Weblog
Thanks to Dale Tuggy for his linkage. Dale is an expert on Trinitarian topics so get thee hence and feast at his table.
The Principle of Subsidiarity
David A. Bosnich, The Principle of Subsidiarity:
One of the key principles of Catholic social thought is known as the principle of subsidiarity. This tenet holds that nothing should be done by a larger and more complex organization which can be done as well by a smaller and simpler organization. In other words, any activity which can be performed by a more decentralized entity should be. This principle is a bulwark of limited government and personal freedom. It conflicts with the passion for centralization and bureaucracy characteristic of the Welfare State.
Obama and Co. take note. But of course they won't. A CHANGE is coming, though, and this time it will be a change for the better. The whole of Bosnich's essay is well worth reading.
Substance and Suppositum: Notes on Fernand Van Steenberghen
Here is another of the scholastic manuals I pulled off my shelf: Fernand van Steenberghen, Ontology (Nauwelaerts Publisher, Brussels, 1970, tr. Moonan). A paragraph from p. 278 supports my thesis that the distinction between primary substance and suppositum is an ad hoc device invented for a theological purpose, a device for which there is no independent philosophical warrant:
4. The problem of subsistence or personality. This problem was inserted into metaphysics for the benefit of theology, as is quite plain, in order to prepare the way for a satisfactory explanation of the theological mystery of the incarnation, the question of knowing how and why the human nature of Jesus Christ does not constitute a human person. But this problem is extraneous to philosophy and must remain so, for from the metaphysical point of view, there is no reason for distinguishing individual nature and individual. It is therefore contrary to any sane method to ask in ontology on what conditions an individual nature might not be a suppositum (or person, where it is an intelligent nature that is in question.)
Continue reading “Substance and Suppositum: Notes on Fernand Van Steenberghen”
Why Run?
If the sky is the daily bread of the eyes (Emerson), then hiking, running, and cycling are the daily bread of the legs and lungs. And what better way to appreciate the sky, and the lambent light of the desert Southwest, than by running over mountain trails at sunrise? Panem nostrum quotidianum da nobis hodie.
From the Mail Bag: Occasionalism
Todd Wright e-mails:
Great blog, thanks for writing it!
[. . .]
2. Are you familiar with the writings of the muslim philosopher Al-Ghazali and his idea now called "Occasionalism"? It seems to me that the person of faith must give up his/her faith in cause and effect for the supernatural to make sense, and Al-Ghazali seems to be the only person to have ever understood this.
Thanks again for your blog! It's fantastic!
Am I familiar with occasionalism? Indeed I am and have given it quite a bit of thought. I advocate a contemporary version of occasionalism in "Concurrentism or Occasionalism? American Catholic Philosophical Quarterly, vol. LXX, no. 3, Summer 1996, pp 339-359. This post will give the reader some idea of what occasionalism is.
Does the believer have to give up his faith in cause and effect for the supernatural to make sense? No, at the very most he would have to abandon certain views of causation. That there is causation in the natural world is undeniable, a 'Moorean fact,' a datum. Anyone who denies this is a lunatic who belongs in the same 'bin' with eliminativists in the philosophy of mind. For if one were to deny causation, then one would in effect be denying that there is any difference between causal and noncausal event sequences. But surely there is such a difference as all will admit including al-Ghazali and Malebranche. I flip a switch (e1) and the light goes on (e2). At the same time the phone rings (e3). E1-e2 is a causal event sequence. E1-e3 is not. Philosophers are not in the business of denying such data as these. Philosophical questions first arise when we ask what it is for one event to cause another. That there is causation is a pre-philosophical datum. What causes what is a question for experience and science. What causation is is a philosophical question.
Some theories of causation are inconsistent with theism, but not all are. For example, if it is maintained that all causation is event-causation and that there cannot be be agent-causation, then classical theism is ruled out. And I should also point out that one can be a theist without holding an occasionalist theory of causation. For example, once could be a concurrentist. But this is not the place to go into these details.