This just in from Dr. Vito Caiati:
I write because I am confused about yesterday’s short post The Believing Philosopher, in which you state, “The religious belief of a believing philosopher is a reasoned belief, and even if his belief extends to the acceptance of mysteries that to the discursive intellect must appear contradictory, his is a reasoned mysterianism.” I understand and fully assent to the first clause regarding “reasoned belief,” but I am struggling to grasp the meaning of the concluding clause regarding “a reasoned mysterianism.”
Specifically, I am troubled by the notion of “a reasoned mysterianism” in cases where “believing philosophers” affirm a mystery “that to the discursive intellect must appear contradictory,” when such a mystery depends on the acceptance of one or more other such mysteries. For example, take the Roman Catholic doctrine of transubstantiation or the non-scholastic, Orthodox doctrine of the true and real presence of Christ in the Eucharist. Now in either case, “believing philosophers” who adhere to traditional Christian belief uphold that what appears, smells, feels, and tastes like bread or wine is, in fact, the actual body and blood of Christ. That the human senses completely contradict this belief is a contradictory datum the existence of which is reconciled through the notion of “mystery.” But this mystery requires a prior assent to yet other mysteries, such as those which affirm (1) the supernatural power of Jesus at the Last Supper to transform common foodstuffs into his body and blood; (2) the transfer of this power to the Apostles, mere human beings; (3) and its subsequent transfer to the myriad of bishops of ancient, medieval, early modern, and modern times, who have in turn (4) passed it onto an even greater number of priests. All of this, of course, requires belief in (5) the Incarnation, the appearance on Earth of the Second Person of the Trinity as one of Jesus’ two natures, but as you have so often eloquently argued, that Christian doctrine is certainly one that baffles the discursive intellect. An acceptance to this mystery requires, in turn, an accent [assent] to (6) the Christian doctrine of the Trinity, with all the logical knots that come with it. We have here a very long chain of mystery.
This is all very schematic and rough, but when I think of how hard it is to affirm theism alone with any sort of confidence, given the powerful evidence and arguments against this belief, I am at a loss to see how a believing philosopher who affirms anything like traditional Christian faith does so because of a “reasoned mysterianism.” I may well be wrong, but I see so much mystery that reason, at best, justifies what is in fact a leap of faith. On what epistemological foundation does “reasoned mysterianism” stand? Religious experience? Revelation? I do not necessarily deny either of these sources of knowledge, but as you so well know, they are highly problematical and controversial.
As you can see, I am confused by all this. My befuddlement may well simply stem from my entirely amateur status in these matters, but I wanted to raise the issue with you in any case. If what I have to say is not worthy of comment, simply ignore it.
An aphorism, to be such, must be brief, and cannot supply reasons on its own behalf. One of its purposes is to stimulate thought in the reader. I see that my aphorism has done just that. While an aphorism cannot come armed with reasons, on pain of ceasing to be an aphorism, a good aphorism has reasons behind it. A good aphorism is like the tip of an iceberg with the tip being the aphorism itself and the iceberg being the mass of supporting reasons and considerations. I will now try to explain what I mean by "reasoned mysterianism."
But first I want to register my agreement with Vito's insightful assertion that acceptance of a particular mystery often rests on a prior acceptance of other mysteries. To telescope his extended example, acceptance of the Incarnation presupposes a prior acceptance of the Trinity. Vito and I also seem to agree that these doctrines (in their orthodox formulations) are an affront to the discursive intellect. I mean that they appear to the discursive intellect as logically contradictory either in themselves or in their implications. Now I have discussed this in detail elsewhere, but perhaps a quick rehearsal is in order. Here is a little argument that will appeal to a unitarian theist like my friend Dale Tuggy.
a. The Second Person of the Trinity and the man Jesus differ property-wise.
b. Necessarily, for any x, y, if x, y differ property-wise, i.e., differ in respect of even one property, then x, y are numerically different, i.e., not numerically identical. (Indiscernibility of Identicals)
Therefore
c. The Second Person of the Trinity and Jesus are not numerically identical, i.e., are not one and the same.
Let's focus just on this little argument. The argument is clearly valid in point of logical form: the conclusion follows from the premises. And the premises are true. (a) is true as a matter of orthodox — miniscule 'o' — Christian teaching. (b) is the Indiscernibility of Identicals, a principle whose intellectual luminosity is as great as any. But the conclusion contradicts orthodox Christian teaching according to which God, or rather the Second Person of the Trinity, became man, i.e., became identical to a flesh and blood man with a body and a soul, in Jesus of Nazareth at a particular time in an obscure outpost of the Roman empire.
Some will conclude that the Incarnation is logically impossible. Others will insist that if we make the right distinctions we can evade arguments like the above. My considered opinion is that these evasive maneuvers do not work. I can't go into this now. One thing is clear: it remains a matter of controversy whether orthodox Chalcedonian incarnationalism is logically possible. And similarly, mutatis mutandis, for the orthodox Trinitarian doctrine.
A. One view, then, is that these doctrines are logically impossible, not just for us but in themselves, and therefore cannot be true. And if they cannot be true, and we see that they cannot be true, then we ought not, on an adequate ethics of belief, accept them, which is to say: we are morally required to reject them.
B. A second view is that the doctrines in question are logically possible and can be seen to be such if we are careful in our use of terms and make all the right distinctions. The doctrines would then be rationally acceptable in the sense that they would satisfy the canons of the discursive intellect.
C. A third view is the dialetheist one according to which there are true contradictions. I mention this only for the sake of classificatory completeness.
D. A fourth view is mysterianism. The theological doctrines in question are logically possible, and indeed true, in themselves and this despite the fact that they appear to us in our present state as contradictory, or even must appear to us in our present state as contradictory. On mysterianism, our cognitive architecture is such as to disallow any insight into how the doctrines in questions are logically possible.
Theological mysterianism has an analog in the philosophy of mind. Many today are convinced naturalists. It seems evident to them that there is but one world, this physical world, and that we are wholly physical parts of it. Our consciousness life in all its richness is rooted in brain activity and impossible without it.
Now take the naturalist conviction and conjoin it to the intellectually honest admission that we have no idea at all how it is so much as possible for a wholly material being to think and enjoy conscious states. The conjunction of the Conviction and the Admission generates a mysterian position according to which one affirms as true a proposition that one cannot understand as possibly true, a proposition that for us is and most likely will remain unintelligible, namely, the proposition that we are wholly material beings susceptible of exhaustive natural-scientific explanation who nonetheless think, feel, love, make moral demands, feel subject to them, etc.
This mysterianism is an epistemological position according to which our contingent but unalterable make-up makes it impossible for us ever to understand how it is possible for us to think and be conscious. The claim is not that thought and consciousness are mysterious because they are non-natural phenomena; the claim is that they are wholly natural but not understandable by us. Our cognitive architecture (a phrase I believe Colin McGinn employs) blocks our epistemic access to those properties the understanding of which would render intelligible to us how we can be both wholly material and yet the subjects of intentional and non-intentional mental states.
Mysterianism as a general strategy rests on a fairly solid foundation. First of all, it is a self-evident modal axiom that actuality entails possiblity. It is also self-evident that if x is possible, then it does not follow that we are in a position to understand how x is possible. So it may well be that there are certain objects and states of affairs and phenomena whose internal possibility we cannot discern due to our irremediable cognitive limitations. Apparent contradictoriness would then not argue unreality.
And so the apparent contradictoriness of Trinity and Incarnation would not argue their impossibility and unreality.
When I speak of "reasoned mysterianism" I am not just employing an oxymoron for literary effect, the way Nietzsche does in his brilliant aphorism, "Some men are born posthumously." I am suggesting that the mysterianism I have just sketched can be reasoned to, and rationally supported. Mysterianism is a position that can be reasonably held. The idea is that it can be reasonably held that there are true propositions the internal possibility of which our finite discursive reason cannot discern and which must appear to us in our present state as internally impossible. It is not irrational to point out the limits of reason. It would be irrational not to.
Vito mentions the leap of faith. As I see it, there is no avoiding such a leap when it comes to ultimate questions. There is no possibility of proof or demonstration hereabouts. One can neither prove nor disprove the existence of God, for example. So if, on the basis of arguments for or against the existence of God, one comes to believe in God or not, there will be a leap of faith either way. Of course, I do not claim that what I just asserted can be proven; but I do claim that I can plausibly support these convictions with good reasons. A reason can be good without being rationally compelling.
It seems to me that reasoning about God and the soul, etc. is precisely reasoning in justification of a leap of faith or else in justification of a leap of disbelief.
As for religious experiences, they prove nothing. (Indeed, not even mundane sense experiences prove the existence of their intentional objects. My current visual experiencings of — or AS OF in the patois of the truly persnickety philosopher — books and papers and the trees and mountains outside my study window do not prove the extramental reality of any of these things.)
But evidence needn't get the length of proof to count as evidence.
As for divine revelation, the problem is how to distinguish a putative revelation from a genuine one. I worry this bone with the help of Josiah Royce in Josiah Royce and the Religious Paradox.
Perhaps what Vito wants is certainty. But the only certainty worth wanting is objective, not subjective, and it cannot be had here below. In this life there is no rest, only road. The destination, fog enshouded, remains in doubt, though glimpsed now and again. Lucubration must come to an end and one has to decide, each for himself, what one will believe and how one will live.
