Whose Rationality? Which Contextualization?

Not wanting to shut the door on the previous conversation, but rather to open the door wider, let's move over and talk about Lyotard, metanarratives and alternative rationalities, and see how these might continue to shed light on the questions of Gospel contextualization and improvisation.
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This second of five engagements around James K.A. Smiths "Who's Afraid of Postmodernism?" is by Cynthia Nielsen, an adjunct professor of philosophy at Eastfield Community College where she is pursuing her Ph.D in Philosophy at University of Dallas , and an accomplished jazz musician. 
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I recently read Smith’s book, Who’s Afraid of Postmodernism, and found it a helpful contribution to furthering the postmodern conversation, particularly among those within the Church whose default seems to be a wholesale rejection of everything “postmodern.”    As his subtitle indicates, Smith engages Derrida, Lyotard, and Foucault with the desire to show indeed there is much “Egyptian gold” to be mined in Paris.  Though there are a number of topics that one might comment on, I shall limit myself to Smith’s discussion Lyotard, particularly Lyotard’s understanding of metanarrative.  Lyotard, of course, is known for his “definition” of postmodernity as “incredulity toward metanarratives [“big stories”].”  If Christianity claims to be the metanarrative, then how can postmodernity and Christianity be harmonized?  First, we have to rightly understand what Lyotard means by “metanarrative.”  As Smith points out, “Lyotard very specifically defines metanarratives as universal discourses of legitimation that mask their own particularity; that is, metanarratives deny their narrative ground even as they proceed on it as a basis. […] The problem with [modern] metanarratives is that they do not own up to their own mythic ground” (Smith, p. 69).  Thus, the postmodern critique should be welcomed by Christians because in essence it proclaims that all knowledge is a narrative or myth of some sort.  As Smith points out, one expression of the Christian faith, viz., the Dutch Reformed Tradition (and one might add Radical Orthodoxy) working within an Augustine trajectory, has repeatedly rejected the idea of legitimating itself by appealing to “universal, autonomous reason,” and instead appeals to “faith (or, to translate, myth or narrative).” In other words, when rightly understood, Lyotard’s claims need not be interpreted as discrediting the Christian metanarrative but instead ought to be used by Christians as fertile soil for a  “a retrieval of a fundamentally Augustinian epistemology that is attentive to the structural necessity of faith preceding reason” (Smith, pp. 68, 72).

Significantly more could be said, but given time and space constraints, I will close with a few comments and suggestions for future discussion and development. 

An area that I would have liked to see more thoroughly developed centers on the concept of rationality.  It would be extremely helpful to have a more detailed explication of exactly in what a proper Christian rationality consists, and then how a distinctively Christian rationality can be shown to be rational when opposing narratives reject its fundamental assumptions.  And relatedly, a common question to the idea of many narratives (Christianity being one of many) having their own set of privileged presuppositions to which they cling come what may and hence their own “rationalites,” is the following, “How are we not left with either some form of relativism or a situation in which various competing mythoi must simply out-narrate one another?” Given the prevalence of this kind of response, further discussion would benefit Christian apologists, theologians, and philosophers alike, particularly those of the presuppositional persuasion. 

I would offer as a ‘rationality,’ in distinction from a modern view of reason (e.g., Kant) as autonomous, abstract and de-personalized, an Augustinian understanding of reason as heteronomous and deeply personal because in order to function properly, the whole person (which includes one’s reason) must be rightly related to God, who for Augustine is ultimate rationality (and of course much more)—i.e., God is the Light in and by whom we are enabled to “see.”   

Comments

[joel hunter]

Cynthia puts her finger right on the issue. Communicative rationality is *precisely* the problem for "those of the presuppositional persuasion" (almost exclusively Reformed theologically, no?). We who trace our theological tradition to Calvin have a daunting task: how do we come to terms with the calvinian first principle of *finitum non est capax infiniti* (see, for example, 7.1 of the Westminster Confession). It seems to me that as long as that principle holds sway, there can never be *a* distinctive christian rationality, for it puts the Reformed at odds with other christian traditions on key matters (e.g., the noetic effects of sin, Creation, Incarnation, Sacraments). Can we appropriate Augustine without glossing him through the calvinian foundational principle?

[Geoff Holsclaw]

For those of you who didn't know (like me):

"Finitum non est capax infiniti."
(Lat. “the finite is not capable of the infinite”).

To take this literally is to either renounce speaking of God or travel the paths of negative theology, with the help of recent friends like Derrida or Caputo (more on them when we get to other chapters in Smith's book).

But there is another response, one which I believe Calvin takes, which is to say, although the finite, by itself, is not capable of the infinite, the infinite has still revealed itself (i.e. doctrine of revelation) to the finite. So, a la presuppositional apologetics, we rely not on creaturely wisdom, but on the creator's revelation.

and from here we enter into competing 'narrative' rationalities, and greet Lyotard with a smile.

so I in one sense we can move from Augustine, to Calvin, to Lyotard without too much trouble, right? Maybe?

[Cynthia R. Nielsen]

Hi Joel,

Thanks for your comment and for your posts on the previous thread. This post does not address all of your concerns (as I look forward to hearing from others for that), but it does engage some of the points that you raised. Since you mentioned WCF (Westminster Confession of Faith) 7.1, I wanted to make a few comments on what you label as a foundational principle of Calvin, viz., the Creator/creature distinction which the WCF spells out as follows, “The distance between God and the creature is so great that although reasonable creatures do owe obedience unto Him as their Creator, yet they could never have any fruition of Him as their blessedness and reward, but by some voluntary condescension on God’s part, which He has been pleased to express by way of covenant.” First, it doesn’t seem to me that the Creator/creature distinction is an explicitly Reformed or Calvinistic doctrine or emphasis—St. Augustine and St. Thomas would also want to uphold that principle so far as I can tell—perhaps it is a “Latin” emphasis? Secondly, I think that Geoff is on the money when he points out our need for God’s revelation if we are to know who God is (the “what” He is and what he requires of us). Thirdly, as is reflected in the WCF, Calvin too emphasized God’s voluntary condescension to reveal himself to us on our level (e.g., using human language and conceptual categories etc.)—as Calvin puts it, “God lisps so that we can understand.” Here the stress seems to be on the fact that all special revelation is anthropomorphic (not just those parts that say that God has an “arm” or God’s eyes etc.), i.e., suited for human beings. [On a side note, I wonder whether talk of God’s voluntary condescension is an outworking of some of the discussions in the late medieval period, viz. the potentia Dei absoluta (God’s absolute power—associated with the “hidden” God) and the potentia Dei ordinata (God’s ordained power—associated with that which God reveals]?

Given the Creator/creature distinction, revelation (natural and special) then becomes that which in a sense “connects” God to his creatures—the ultimate revelation being the Incarnation. This metaphysical situation of course has epistemological implications. Epistemologically we might say that God’s knowledge and our knowledge is qualitatively different, thus there is no univocal point at which the two come together. By qualitatively different, I mean that the essence of God’s knowledge is different from the essence of human knowledge. (As one Reformed apologist says, all of God’s knowledge is analytic in character, the predicate adds nothing to the subject. God’s knowledge (humanly speaking) has always “been there” because it is what he is. He knows everything in one act of knowledge, whereas we of course know “step by step” (discursively). We might also add (following that same Reformed apologist ; ), that God’s thoughts are creatively constructive and our thoughts are receptively re-constructive. All of God’s knowledge is independent (affirming God’s aseity), whereas all of our knowledge is dependent. This is in part what I was trying to get at with a “dependent” rationality vs. an “autonomous” view of reason (e.g., Kant)--though significantly more could and should be added.

Perhaps another aspect to add is that a univocal point of contact is not needed because the thing known, e.g. a rose, is the same thing known by God and by creatures though in two distinct ways—God knows the rose exhaustively, perfectly, etc. as only God can, whereas we know it in a creaturely way—through study, observation etc.

As to how not to be at odd with the various Christian traditions on certain (and even key) doctrines…well, (lamentably) I don’t think we can avoid it this side of “heaven.” However, it is nice to have settings such as this blog to discuss these matters in a charitable way!

Cheers,
Cynthia

p.s., My apologies if I have taken this in a different direction than you wanted to go! I will likely "sit out" for a while and listen as others contribute to the conversation.

[joel hunter]

If I may briefly supplement my remarks/question (and then I promise I'll get out of the way): where I think the *finitum non est capax infiniti* dogma obstructs Augustine's way to us is two-fold: (1) displacing Christ from the center of theologizing for the sake of--not just a Creator/creature *distinction*--but the absolute transcendence of the divine. This systematic overlay results in a eucharistic theology, for example, that cannot simply announce "This is my body; take and eat" without a couple of pages of footnotes and a 20-page appendix. (2) Systematic forgetfulness that the Creator/creat*ion* distance is the result of sin and not some intrinsic defect in creatureliness as such. Hence, you get a unique theological system that interprets covenant, for example, as the necessary mechanism for dissolving the logical requirement of *finitum non est capax infiniti*. This changes the tenor of redemption from its origin in the Trinitarian life of love to (perhaps) something like the reaction or resolution of a problem that simply inheres in the nature of created being. This may be a distortion of calvinian thought (do correct me), but I've been around it all my life and sure as shootin' we have a heck of a hard time keeping the Incarnation as the focus and climax of history. It's too often secondary, as if God speaks the final Word in Jesus as a means rather than the end of it all. Sorry I've gotten this conversation off-track from Lyotard; I'm just not sure that together with the welcome appropriation of "incredulity toward metanarratives" with the rest of our modernist neighbors that we're suspicious enough of a possible onto-theological paradigm that drives presuppositionalism (sorry for the jargon, I'm tired and lazy). But I look forward to learning more...

[Jason Hesiak]

Tired and lazy so you slump back into big theological words. That's funny. I get accused of that, but this conversation is beyond me. That said, however, I just wanted to provide a littel spark. I really identify here with what Joel is saying about the the Incarnation as necessity to something inherent to creasion vs. redemption from sin. Honestly, I don't know that much about Calvin, but it sounds to me like we could be stretching him a bit to say that about him. Nonetheless (whether I'm right about that or not...probably not), I think that's a human tendency that should be "watched for" :) Gives us, ironically, a measure of control. Puts it in the realm of human knowledge and wisdom, as if philosophy is out to overtake the world! ARGH, watch out!

Brennan Manning (whose writings, oops, aren't "necessarily" so theological), says this: "'We have made the bitterness of the cross, the revelation of God in the Cross of Jesus Christ, tolerable to ourselves by learning to understand it as necessary for the process of salvation ...As a result the Cross loses its arbitrary and incomprehensible character.'" I like to put lots of notes and things in the margins as I read. My "note" next to that passage, at the time, was a question mark. Precisely because I had come to think of the Incarnation (and the Cross) as "necessity".

Around that time, I came across some web site that talked about the differences between Greek and Hebrew notions of DEATH ("necessity is death", said my Arch. prof.). It said that the Greeks tended to think of it more in terms of mortality (and the "necessary natural" cycle of life and death), whereas the Hebrews thought of it more in terms of alienation, lonliness, darkenss and loss. However true that may or may not be (makes some sense), I suddenly realized that I had been retreating to a philosophical idea of necessity as a necessary way to avoid true openness into the light of God's community, which would leave me in a field of interdependence and contingency (upon an-Other). It was around this time that God's story of Incarnation and Cross pushed me to some major confessing about some very uncomfortable topics...Great healing insued, and the cross as God's way of "sympathizing" with our alienation/DEATH has since brought some healing to more than one or two of my friends.

How's that for narrative? :) All that to say, maybe, that I like what Joel said about the couple of pages of footnotes and the 200 page appendix. I can identify with that as well, as I am currently right smack dab in the middle of a conversation elsewhere with a friend about "absolute principles" and finite and infinite ect. ect. ect...To a point it all gets rediculous to me and creates a big "necessary conversation" that merely hinges on a human construct or three (I THINK this is what Joel was getting at with "presuppositionalism"???). It was good, though, for me to see from this conversation by folks who know more than I that Calvin had set up the whole finite/infinite thing as a way to put God and man in their proper places (it seems that's what he was up to). The conversation about abolutes is happening now because man seems to have grabbed onto them. Two year old American's first word..."MINE!"

Don't mean or want to stop any beyond-me theological back and forth that might want or need to happen. Just wanted to "point out" the "extentions of ourselves" (our "needs"/desires for control/knowledge) that might be at work in our history, in this conversation, or in our churches. I doubt the work of a 200 page appendix would be necessary if a man was willing to do more work for what he needs. Knowledge is power. Sight is knowledge. You need an "end" (a finitude) to see something. So it was spoken forth. Am I speaking of the word of Calvin or Christ? (not attacking, just putting things into play to bring something forth...)

[Jason Hesiak]

OK, I just did my homeWORK, provided by the original post in link form, on "presuppositionalism". Yeah, OK. I sign up for VERY SUSPICIOUS. Without the suspicious paradigm in the first place, and not just in the presuppositionalist's "opponent", there is not only no conversation necessary, but there is no conversation. I liked the book with the title The Mystery to a Solution (John T. Irwin), but I got tired of it after a hundred pages. I can see the headline now: "Detective aborts mission only to find suspected terrorist..." Eerr, "Church aborts detective mission only to find suspected self..." (Girand :) Uumm, "Church aborts mission to find mission!"

[Brad]

i have a question that isn't explicitly dealt with in Jamie's book, but deals i think with this idea of rationalities, and the political side of what Jamie calls being a postmodern catholic. it actually stems from two of Jamie's blog posts, one at his own site and one at generous orthodoxy thinktank.

a few weeks ago Jamie posted a pretty strong review of a speech by Barack Obama, where Smith writes:

'I agree with the opposition to theocracy, and I agree that distinctly religious positions should not be legislated by the state. But what Obama can't seem to imagine is that one might, in fact, pass on the state in order to hold the integrity of what one "knows" on the basis of "religious reasons." I just can't imagine the kind of bifurcated identity that Obama's framework requires--a fractured identity in which, when there is conflict, it is the requirements of "universal" reason which must trump what one knows on the basis of religious faith...But what about another possibility? What about setting aside participation in a state and politics which requires such bifurcation? What about opting out of a democratic rationality which demands ultimate allegiance?'

A few weeks later at GO thinktank Smith posted on the NYTimes piece about Greg Boyd, as well as Boyd's upcoming book. There Smith writes:

'[I]t's also clear that he's not disowning conservative politics for progressive politics. Rather, it seems that he's out to construct a vision of the church that avoids politics altogether --retreating to a kind of quietist a-political pietism...Granted, such a-political pietism might be preferred to conservative visions of quasi-theocracy, but in the end such dualistic retreat tends to simply give up the political to the most Machiavellian of forces in a kind of two-kingdom concession. Boyd's voice is welcome to the conversation, but I suspect that it will simply remind us how much work has to be done on carving out a third way.'

What I can't see is the disctinction between what Smith is unhappy with in Boyd's argument and what he offers as a way forward in his critique of Obama. What does it mean to 'opt out of democratic rationality', but not be a-politically pietistic?

any thoughts?

[V.V.Zigon]

In Wikipedia I found a definition of 'Metanarrative'.
According to this definition the main feature of metanarratives(and it seems that most postmodernists, including Lyotard, will love the way it is presented in this article)
is that they ''can include any grand, all-encompassing story, classic text, or archetypal account of the historical record''(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Metanarrative)

And here (in the same article) is an example of Metanarrative:
''Many Christians believe that human existence is innately sinful but offered redemption and eternal peace in heaven - thus representing a belief in a universal rule and a telos for humankind''.

It is interesting that Lyaotard '' proposes that metanarratives should give way to 'petit recits''(the stories , which are all true but without any presuppositions, i.e. have no presuppositions at all). Bearing in mind this Lyaotard`s proposition and the definition of metanarrative mentioned above, it seems to me that for Christianity undoubtedely there is a chance to become a 'story'( one among many other stories), but not unless it ceases to be 'a grand, all-encompassing story' , pretending , e.g., to be something rather nothing,
and sometimes ( or perhaps, always ) trying to be Some Thing ( with big '' S''
and ''T'').
And even pointing out that '''Metanarratives' ignore the heterogeneity or variety of human existence'', but Christianity doesn`t ignore the heterogeneity (therefore Christianity is not Metanarrative), will not not save the situation and will not help it.
But if someone thinks that Christianity today is not one of the Biggest Metanarratives in the world,
then I think he must have great reasons for that.

Peace,

V.V. Zigon

[RODNEY NEILL]

An answer for Brad,

I would challenge anyone to and listen to our 'Christian' politicans on both the Catholic and Protestant sides in NI and not come to the conclusion that politics and Christianity mixed together can be a very obnoxious brew!!! - I would take a-politically pietistic any day...

[Cynthia R. Nielsen]

Hi Joel,

Here are a few (overly lengthy!) thoughts in regard to your last post. If I understood you correctly, you say that the Creator/creature (C/c) distance is the result of sin. If by “distance” you mean distinction, then I would suggest that the C/c distinction is not the result of sin, but rather is the case whether a “fall” occurs or not—God is uncreated, independent and we are created and dependent. This is in no way to suggest an “intrinsic defect in creatureliness as such,” it just admits that God is God and we are created. I do not see why there necessarily has to be a negative view cast on creation in the view that I have described. The Augustinian, Calvin and Vosian trajectory of course has a very positive view of God’s creation. Though Augustine of course doesn’t begin with the senses, he nonetheless does not eschew the sense world in the way that Plato and the “Platonists” tended to do (contrast Augustine’s view of the human person, the “fall,” the goal of the “best life” etc. with the views set forth by Plato in the Phaedrus and the Phaedo--two very different worldviews are at work). After all, Augustine is a strong advocate of God’s creatio ex nihilo, which God himself proclaimed to be “good.” Consequently, Augustine’s account must include a deeply positive view of the created order. We might summarize Augustine’s rendition as follows: after turning inward (which for Augustine is to turn upward), one casts her gaze back outward to the sense world. Having understood by God’s grace who God is and who you are, the external world becomes intelligible and valued in a new way. That is, the created world is seen as that which imitates or reflects God in its own way (what Augustine and other medievals call, “participation”) and thus has an aesthetic, symbolic and even iconic significance as it ultimately points us to God. Yet, the created order also has value “on its own terms” because it is a gift of God, created freely, and given out of fullness of his love.

Also, I don’t think that Augustine’s view (or Calvin’s with his strong emphasis of union with Christ) moves us away from understanding redemption as a Trinitarian affair. Regarding the aesthetic element of the created order, Michael Hanby explains that for Augustine what we have in the created order are a “series of microcosms which manifest the Father’s love for and delight in the beauty of the Son.” Moreover, because of Augustine’s emphasis on the priority of worship, we must understand the beauty reflected in the creatures and even the soul as “penultimate in relation to the full beauty of the created order and somehow a microcosm of that beauty in its fruition. That beauty was the one Christ, Head and Body, in whose unity and sacrifice the love, gift, and delight of the Father are manifest. Creation is finally realized as it manifests this generosity, which is to say that, for Augustine creation is finally realized in and as Christ. Consequently, any account of Augustinian ‘flight from the world’ that neglects this integral role of created beauty in eliciting desire for the Father and manifesting his joy fails to ascend to the Augustinianism of Augustine” (Augustine and Modernity, p. 134).

With all that said, many Calvin-ists who understand and explicate Calvin in chiefly soteriological terms (i.e., Calvin= the 5 points of Calvinism) have in my opinion distorted Calvin and have failed to see his cosmic, full-orbed redemptive-historical worldview. I would also agree with some of the sentiments voiced in other posts regarding systematic theology gone awry.

Though systematic theology construed with no thought to the history of salvation or redemptive history (historia salutis) in my opinion often does result in an overly speculative, philosophical and abstract “system.” However, such should not, nor need not be the case. Here it seems that a redemptive-historical emphasis (what in some circles is referred to as “biblical theology,” which is what I will use in this post) as found in G. Vos is extremely helpful. I do think that when properly derived from and related to both Scripture (whose main theme is the self-attesting Christ) and biblical theology, systematic theology is both helpful and edifying to the body of Christ.

I think (hope) that the following analogy might shed some light on the ways that biblical and systematic theology might interact in order to avoid some of the pitfalls that you have brought to our attention. Biblical theology, with its emphasis on the redemptive-historical framework could be likened to the purpose for which the sonata allegro form serves in a musical composition. This sonata form is divided into specific movements in which a primary theme is stated, developed (in terms of various sub-themes related to the primary theme), restated and brought to a final conclusion. Just as biblical theology understood in terms of historia salutis provides a certain God-designed framework for systematics, so the sonata form provides the structural framework through which the musical piece is presented as an "organic" whole with a specific, progressive (even teleological, better Christotelic) goal. Moreover, the theme of the symphonic piece must be understood within the sonata form as a whole and should not be isolated or interpreted as an end in itself as it appears in the individual sections. To do so would not only deny the natural progression of the composition, thus destroying its unity, but it would also greatly obscure the beauty of the central theme. Likewise, false conclusions could easily be drawn as the various smaller portions of the symphonic movement have specific purposes and yet are not to be severed from the piece as a whole. Such severing could easily result in one’s failing to understand that the composer’s diversity is in no way set in opposition to the overall unity of his work, but rather is a purposed and creative act manifesting in a most mysterious and profound way the glory of his original theme.

Systematics, on the other hand, could be likened to the activity in which the music theorist is engaged as she studies a musical score. The score is presented to her already in the sonata form. This, of course, presupposes a Composer and is illustrative of the way in which the Bible is given to human beings in a redemptive historical framework and "composed" by God. So in her analysis of the piece, the music theorist seeks to find dominant and subdominant themes in the work as a whole and identifies not only the way in which such themes and motifs relate to another but also the way in which all the “parts” relate to the main theme. Such analysis work is very similar to the task of the systematic theologian as he draws from the redemptive historical "form,” identifies various themes and seeks to demonstrate how each purposely and necessarily relates to the main theme, Christ Jesus our Lord. If one tries to imagine a work like Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony apart from its dominant theme, one can see how the whole piece would simply fall apart and nothing more that an unintelligible shell would remain. In like manner, we understand the vanity of attempting to remove Christ, the “dominant theme” of the Bible, from the center of redemption history.

Cheers,
Cynthia

[knsheppard]

I just want to know if you're intentionally mimicking the title of Alisdair MacIntyre's book or not!?!?

[Geoff Holsclaw]

knsheppark,

yes I was alluding to MacIntyre's book.

[Geoff Holsclaw]

Cynthia and Joel,
thanks for the great thoughts and illustrations.

Concerning the Creator/creature distinction, I think it problematic to think of this as the 'fall', as if finitude were constitutively miserable (although many postmodern philsophers suggest as much, and celebrate this).

For Calvin, I see it more as a problematic emphasis on divine Sovregnity (Divine Will) which overrides issues of Desire and Incarnation, making redemption into a necessity. This might not be a problem with the calvin but later reformers.

and Brad,
jamie just posted a response along the lines of your question over here

[joel hunter]

Thanks, Cynthia. I was advocating devils at you and you reply with just the sort of refocus that I agree with muchly (and a delightful aria encore to boot). Your Marion is showing and that's a helpful corrective to the *finitum non est* heuristic in Calvin's theology. Sometimes I'm not sure whether it reveals a philosophical problem or a problem with grace. Maybe both? All I know is it runs roughshod over bread and wine.

V.V., I'm sure others would like to respond, but I think Smith's emphasis on legitimation is the key argument in showing why Lyotard's critique of metanarrative doesn't pitch into the "grand story" of Christianity (or any other narrative whose scope is universal, e.g., the Norse Voluspa). If you believe a narrative that tells of a universal rule and ultimate telos for humanity, that is not the same thing as believing that you can validate that narrative by application of rules of reason that everyone would be compelled by force of logic to acknowledge. Where I think you have a very valid point, and where it ties in neatly with this thread, is when Christians engage the world with a style of apologetic that in point of fact *does* assume that its narrative can be legitimated by universal Reason or something extrinsic to its narrative. When an account of Christianity glides down these ruts of modernity, it can indeed become a metanarrative knock-off: (a) an absolute science deductively secured by clear and distinct perception; (b1) various "ascent" metanarratives, e.g., total human emancipation from a state of nature; (b2) the unstoppable evolution of Absolute Spirit in history. The god that inevitably makes its cameo in the metanarratives of modernity doesn't look or act anything like the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, the God of the parables who promises to outrage the moral bookkeepers of the world (be they Kant or Karma) with grace (see esp Luke 14-15).

[John Doyle]

“I define postmodern as incredulity toward metanarratives,” Lyotard famously declares. Here’s the beginning of his next sentence: “This incredulity is undoubtedly a product of progress in the sciences.” Science, not Christianity, is the modern metanarrative aggressor. So I take science as the main subject here.

Lyotard contrasts scientific knowledge with narrative knowledge. Modern scientific truth-claims rely on generally-accepted techniques for evaluating external evidence in order to prove one’s case (or to disprove the alternatives). Narrative truth-claims pivot on the reliability of the narrator (i.e., that he accurately retells the story he heard) and the consensual opinion of the culture. Modern science believes that narrative truth is primitive, obsolete, premodern – and so it should be absorbed into science. Lyotard explicitly rejects this aggressive “totalizing” ambition of science vis-à-vis narrative, arguing that two irreducibly different kinds of truth are in play. Science is good at accumulating declarative and empirical knowledge; narrative is good at establishing cultural norms and transmitting history and “know-how.” Something like that, yes?

Lyotard’s division of the intellectual territory has become nearly the accepted solution among smart people on the Judeo-Christian narrative truth side of the divide. All the big empirical underpinnings of the faith depend on past historical events that can’t be independently verified or falsified; all the Christian truth claims rest either on the narrative tradition or on consensus. (A purely individual subjective experience isn’t important to the culture, or to Lyotard, unless it becomes the subject of narrative transmission in the collective.) So Christianity can focus on things like meaning and purpose, morality and salvation – topics for which the narrative tradition and consensus perhaps have more to offer than does science.

The problems, of course, come at the borders, the most notable example being creation-as-narrative vs. creation-as-science. Modernity is all about resolving the conflicts, if not by compromise then by force. The scientists want to impose a metanarrative on the Judeo-Christian story, whereby the Genesis creation narrative is falsified by consensually-accepted standards of empirical evidence. The intelligent designers want to impose a Judeo-Christian metanarrative on science, whereby God sits behind the curtain controlling the natural processes.

Though something like 50% of Americans believe that God created man “just like it says in the Bible,” I suspect that most serious people recognize that science has the upper epistemological hand in this dispute. The vast majority of scientists are persuaded by the generally-accepted rules of evidence that evolution is about as firmly established as any scientific hypothesis can be. Therefore, say the scientists, either the original source of the Genesis creation narrative was wrong, or else the narrative tradition was so fatally flawed that it distorted the original story beyond recognition. If the Judeo-Christians accept either of these two assertions, they place their truth verification system under the aegis of the scientific metanarrative.

If, on the other hand, the Judeo-Christians assert that the Genesis creation narrative wasn’t intended to be read as scientific truth, they can shift the battle from knowledge to interpretation, from epistemology to hermeneutics. I suppose the scientists might let the Judeo-Christians off the hook at this point, especially if the narrative types start throwing around terms like hermeneutics that the science types don’t understand. Or the narrative types can avoid learning much about the scientific method, thereby consigning evolution to the ethereal realm of “mere” theory. Habermas, against whom Lyotard argued his case, said that the various truth-finding systems’ inability to understand one another was one of the great lamentable failings of modernism. I resonate with Habermas’ disappointment.

How would the Judeo-Christians justify to themselves a hermeneutical shift away from literalism on Genesis 1? You can’t just label it a narrative, thereby absolving it from truth-telling and displacing it to the realm of mythology. Narrative is a praxis of truth-telling in Lyotard’s thinking. Is science forcing the exegetes to back down from Biblical literalism? If so, doesn’t that implicitly subsume the Judeo-Christian consensus-building process under the scientific metanarrative? To me this seems like the place where the believers in the Judeo-Christian narrative have to come to grips with Lyotard’s project.

[Jason Hesiak]

John Doyle, loved your post. Real quick-like. 1. Seems like Lyotard had no "project", but that part of what he was doing was fighting projection. Am I wrong (I easily could be)? I mean, can we talk about a post-modern project the same way as the modern one? I think I've heard Lyotard claim otherwise, but I memory could be off from my limited readings of Lyotard. This, however, was a small marginal reference of yours, so I'll move on.

2. Again, I like your basic distinction, but you said, "Science is good at accumulating declarative and empirical knowledge; narrative is good at establishing cultural norms and transmitting history and 'know-how.'" Uuhh...I think I see what you mean here by "know-how", but from what I hear it was modernity and it's package that reduced knowlede to know-how. In other words, that "know-how" isn't so much a narrative kind of knowledge as an industrialist specialists' kind. Socrates, who has been referred to as an early modern, made a similar comment about artisans and what-not, but in ancient times the artisan's craft was, in a different way then, the contemporary philosopher's discussion. Pythagoras learned from the artisans. In the end, however, I only say this to support what seems to be your contention on places where the Christian subsumption under the abstracted, objectified "meta-narrative" of science comes face to face with something not so easy. Maybe, as an Architect, I'm just complaining about a theologian's minutia that happens to be an Architect's (artisan's) central thrust...?

[Cynthia R. Nielsen]

Hi John,

Very nice post. I think that a recent book written by Dr. Peter Enns (Ph.D. Harvard) speaks to many of the issues that you raise. Enns discusses what he calls the “incarnational analogy” as a proper starting point for attempting to understand the nature of Scripture. In other words, just as Christ is both fully God and fully man, Scripture likewise manifests this dual nature of divinity and humanity. By employing the incarnational analogy, Christians seek neither to elevate the human element, nor to so emphasize the divine such that we lose sight of the fact that the Bible was written in a spatio-temporal context in various languages and cultures. There is no doubt mystery here, yet, instead of eschewing mystery, we embrace it and in so doing reap significant benefits.

One such benefit, might be illustrated as follows. The Babylonian creation story, Enuma Elish, exhibits similarities with the Genesis creation account and is often something that Christians find embarrassing. Employing the incarnational analogy, one might respond by pointing out that the similarities reflect common ancient ways of thinking, i.e., they reflect the typical thought constructs of the times. With the Genesis account, we have both a polemic against as well as a participation in ancient thinking. There are no doubt many similarities, yet there are also important dissimilarities. As Enns points out, the Babylonian creation account depicts the creation of the world as a cosmic battle between the god Marduke and the goddess Tiamat. Marduke created heaven and earth from the slain body of Tiamat. Tiamat represents chaos and Marduke tames the chaos and brings order out of it (Inspiration and Incarnation: Evangelicals and the Problem of the Old Testament, p. 26. Reading Genesis 1 against this Ancient Near Eastern (ANE) conceptual context allows for insights not available when read against modern scientific categories. When approached this way, Genesis 1 reads as an ANE polemic, and Genesis itself becomes an exercise in contextual theology.

In short, why couldn’t an orthodox answer to the issue of ANE parallels be an appeal to the incarnational analogy? In other words, instead of being embarrassed by the similarities, we ought to expect the biblical writers (because they were inspired by God) to communicate in such a way that will be understandable within the thought structures of their time. Reading Genesis this way enables us to see the polemical nature of Genesis. By understanding the literary context of Genesis, we can avoid insisting that the Genesis account must match up to modern science—all the while holding a view high view of Scripture. In essence, Genesis is saying, “YHWH is God and the others are not; only YHWH is worthy of worship.” Taking the conversation in this direction is not to say that God’s creation of the world is a myth in the sense that it is untrue, rather it is an entirely different point. God in Genesis 1 describes his actual, historical, in-time creation in mythic language, i.e., the language of the time, the pre-scientific language of the ANE. God enters into the conceptual categories of the times and teaches the people by contrast what he is like.

Cheers,
Cynthia

p.s. I highly recommend Enns book, which just happens to be published by Baker Academic ;)--this was so not planned.

[Andy]

"p.s. I highly recommend Enns book, which just happens to be published by Baker Academic ;)--this was so not planned."

This is at least the third time in two threads that someone is hawking Baker Books...what's up with that? :)

[Geoff Holsclaw]

Andy,
Well, this site is sponsored by Baker, but it is a bit of a running joke because we really are not trying to promote Baker Academic book, but host a conversation on postmodernity and the church. The coordinators of this project will certainly be bringing other authors and publishers into this conversation.

I guess irony and sacrasm don't translate at well via comments.

This postis helpful in this regard.

[John Doyle]

Jason, I think you’re right: Lyotard’s is an anti-project – my sloppy word choice reflects my incomplete understanding, which you’ve corrected. Regarding “know-how” as an instrumental outgrowth of science, I think the older traditions continue in parallel. “Know-how” is the English translation of Lyotard’s savoir-faire, which retains a more artisan-like flavor. Singing nursery rhymes, not sticking your tongue at people in public, ordering the right wine with foie gras, not ordering foie gras in Chicago – these are instances of savoir-faire. I quote Lyotard: “a narrative tradition is also the tradition of the criteria defining a threefold competence – savoir-faire, savoir-dire (knowing how to speak), and savoir-ententendre (knowing how to hear) – through which the community’s relationship to itself and its environment is played out. What is transmitted through these narratives is the set of pragmatic rules that constitutes the social bond.”

Cynthia, thanks for your insights from Enns. I don’t have ready access to his book, but I did track down an article of his online entitled “Apostolic Hermenutics.” In that paper Enns is arguing for a “Christotelic” reading of the OT, where the OT is interpreted explicitly in light of the resurrection and the imminent return. The implication is that we’d interpret Genesis 1 neither in the historical context in which it was written, nor in the current context of evolutionary science, but in the Christotelic context. Enns acknowledges that there is no method to guide us here, that a Christotelic exegesis is as much art as science.

Enns’ discussion reminds me of the so-called fourfold practice of medieval exegesis, formalized by Aquinas. Applying the method to Genesis 1:3, Aquinas explains that when God said “Let there be light,” allegorically he meant let Christ be love; tropologically, may we be mentally illuminated by Christ; and anagogically, may we be led to glory by Christ. The first “fold” of the 4-fold practice was the literal reading, by the way. Calvin could be regarded as the first modernist when he got rid of the other 3 folds.

You say that Enns wants to regard the OT creation text as a product of its culture, that perhaps it was written as a polemic against the Babylonian gods. I for one am not reassured by the idea of the first chapter of Scripture is really a hyperbolic rant that was never intended to be taken literally, any more than I am reassured by the source critics that Gen. 1 was written by a post-Exilic priest as a kind of advertisement for his Sabbath service…

Anyhow, keeping to the Lyotardian context, it seems that Enns is extending savoir-entendre from listening to reading and sovoir-dire from speaking to writing. A written text creates an illusion of permanence, whereas in fact it’s like capturing a single frame in a really long movie (okay, it’s an anachronistic analogy, but this is our contextual idiom). The static text is subsumed under the constantly-moving narrative. Don’t get captivated by the single image; watch the whole movie. (We’re also in the movie and making the movie, but that’s a whole nother can of worms…)

The NT writers lived in a “second temple” Jewish context, says Enns, but they also participated in a Greek intellectual culture – they wrote in Greek, after all. I think the Greeks regarded text not as a freeze-frame in an ongoing narrative but as an impermanent and imperfect representation of an eternal and unchanging Logos. How do we 21st century types know when the NT authors are reading OT texts like Hebrews and when like Greeks? And how do we know when we’re supposed to read a text in the context in which it was written, or in the Christotelic hermeneutic, or from the standpoint of modern culture where texts point to empirical facts, or from a postmodern stance that in a way loops back to a premodern traditional culture when truth and interpretation and polemic were inseparable? These aren't rhetorical questions, but time marches on and other topics beckon...

[Cynthia R. Nielsen]

Hi John,

This thread is really opening up. Thank you for bringing Enns' online text to our attention and for your interaction.

Regarding Calvin’s hermeneutic, it is true that his is a more or less grammatico-historical (GH) orientation given his humanist training, but this would need to be carefully nuanced. E.g., Spinoza, who is perhaps the father of the GH “method,” is not reading Scripture the same way that Calvin reads it, though both are lumped into the GH category. Though Calvin for the most part does reject what we tend to call “allegory,” he realizes and acknowledges that this causes problems when we look at the ways in which the New Testament authors use the Old Testament (which is decidedly un-grammatico-historical). Calvin of course wanted to read the OT in a Christian way, i.e., he wanted to see Christ there—enter accommodation and typology. As was discussed in a previous post, we might describe accommodation as a “pedagogical tool” that God employs to communicate to human beings given his “wholly otherness” (He speaks to us in human languages etc.)—Christ of course being God’s ultimate act of accommodation. Using the OT as our point of entry, Calvin would say that God spoke to his people in ways that they could understand. E.g, the institutions and worship practices of Israel’s life were not something foreign to the surrounding cultures—pagans also had temples, sacrifices, priests, etc. So when God revealed himself to his people, he did so in ways that are part of the ANE world. Yet, if God accommodates himself in ways that people understand are we to understand God’s accommodation to Israel as the way the world is or not? Maybe a sic et non is the "best" answer. I don’t take God’s accommodating himself in the OT to mean that he was taken by or obligated to the ANE environment, rather the focus of all of these institutions was Christ himself—enter typology. Take, e.g., the OT sacrificial system. God accommodated himself in Israel’s sacramental system because the idea of sacrifice is woven into creation itself for the purpose of pre-figuring the sacrifice of Christ. If this is true, then even the other (false) sacrificial systems of the surrounding cultures then become parodies of the ultimate type—Christ. Creation, culture, and the universe itself can then be understood as sacramental or theomorphic as it is “set up” to reflect who God is. So for Calvin, the tensions that he felt and acknowledged by going the GH route were “eased” via accommodation and typology. For Calvin, Christ is truly yet proleptically in the OT. So even with his GH constraints, he still has a Christotelic reading of the OT and given that, I don’t think he really deserves the name of the first “modernist.”

As to which reading or “method” should we take to properly interpret Scripture? I like what Michael Hanby says following Augustine—and I think that jazz improvisation also provides a fruitful analogy (something I hope to develop in my PhD studies at UD but given the lenght of this post, I won't go into it now).

As Hanby notes, in the Confessions, Augustine teaches that there is a “plenitude of true meanings for a single text” […] The ontological warrant that underlies this insistence throughout the Augustinian corpus derives, in part, from the very nature of truth’s oneness, which defies its circumscription or possession” (Augustine and Modernity, p. 34). For example, in Confessions XII, Augustine writes:

“Having listened to all these divergent opinions and weighed them, I do not wish to bandy words, for that serves no purpose except to ruin those who listen. The law is an excellent thing for building us up provided we use it lawfully, because its object is to promote the charity which springs from a pure heart, a good conscience and unfeigned faith, and I know what were the twin precepts on which our Master made the whole law and prophets depend. If I confess this with burning love, O my God, O secret light of my eyes, what does it matter to me that various interpretations of those words are proffered, as long as they are true? I repeat, what does it matter to me if what I think the author thought is different from what someone else thinks he thought? All of us, his readers, are doing our utmost to search out and understand the writer’s intention, and since we believe him to be truthful, we do not presume to interpret him as making any statement that we either know or suppose to be false. Provided, therefore, that each person tries to ascertain in the holy scriptures the meaning the author intended, what harm is there if a reader holds an opinion which you, the light of all truthful minds, show to be true, even though it is not what was intended by the author, who himself meant something true, but not exactly that?” (Augustine’s Confess. XII.27, pp. 327-328, M. Boulding translation).

Maria Boulding (the translator) adds the following note in regard to the passage above, “Augustine’s recognition that meanings other than those intended by the writer can legitimately be discovered in the sacred text is grounded in his conviction that the God of truth who inspired the writer and guarantees the text abides in the minds of believing readers, and that though God makes use of human words, they are never adequate to fully express his mystery; there is always a ‘plus’ of meaning” (p. 323, note 71).

Cheers,
Cynthia

[Geoff Holsclaw]

John, it almost sounds like you are making an argument for the return of the four-fold method of interpretation: literal, allegorical, typological, anagogical (or two-fold: literal, spiritual).

In otherwords, if our metanarrative is no longer that of Science, but of local narrative, then literal interpretation is not normative (as in the Jazz illustration from the last post). If there is a dynamic exchange between the past(tradition) and present(innovation), then this challenges not only our understanding of the historical-critical methods of biblical studies, but also the contextual-apologetic methods of mission and witness.

So, moving from Genesis to the 'present', how do we Christologically read our culture and the Gospel (affirming/subverting) of it?

[Jason Hesiak]

John,

Thanks for the explanation. Helpful. "Shows my incomplete understanding" :) Well, I don't even have time to read the rest of the comments...I'M OFF TO KENYA!! Wweeee...

Jason

[Adam P. Newton]

And to think, I was about to leave for seminary where I would have PAID for this type of intellectual discourse....

I appreciate EVERY person that's been writing for the past couple of weeks. This has been so very educational for me on so many levels. This conversation has been more than enlightening and enlivening for both sides of my brain.

*returns to the Kierkegaard biography he's been reading*

[John Doyle]

Cynthia, I liked the long quote from Augustine. Of course I'm always concerned about criteria for discerning who does and does not "have the mind of Christ" while he or she is hermeneuting or improving on the text.

Geoff, as to reading our culture, I personally opt for hermeticism. However, it's possible to make some self-reflexive observations about the "language game" in blogspace. The cardinal rules of post-and-comment concatenation seem to be speed, brevity, and ephemerality. Here are the stats on this particular post. Speed: 5 comments posted within the first 24 hours. Brevity: average comment = 400 words. Ephemerality: only 7 comments posted during the second 24 hours. Modernity or postmodernity: you decide.

There is some linearity to the microtradition comprising this post: it's commentary on a commentary (Cynthia's post) on a commentary (Smith's book) on the original source (Lyotard). Still, there's quite a lot of leeway for each soloist to improvise. Reading the comments, it's hard to tell how many of the commentators have actually read Smith or Lyotard. Given the blogspeed involved, there hasn't been much time for readers (like me) to do much homework between post and comment. I'm not sure whether there's progression or circularity in the sequence, but I do detect a certain commonality of style that suggests something like an emergent tradition. Modern or postmodern: you decide.

[John Doyle]

Well, it looks like this conversation has come to an end, so I'll carry on a conversation with myself.

My comment on "improving" the text wasn't what it seemed. I was looking for the past tense of the verb "improv" -- as in interactive jazz performance. I should have just written "improvising" and avoided the confusing conjugation.

As to the rest of my comment: Self-referentiality is a kind of hallmark of the postmodern, an awareness that, since we can look at other traditions in sociohistorical context, we can look at ourselves that way too. You lose that soothing organic flow of a tradition when you pay too much attention to it. For us there's probably no avoiding the ironic angsty distancing of self from self, of community from community. To suppress self-referentiality is to retreat into a nostalgia that feeds a culture of kitschy fascism.

I noticed an error in my blogspeed calculations. I wrote that there were 5 comments posted in the first 24 hours, whereas in fact there were 15 comments. It was scribal error on my part. I had a piece of paper where I worked out the numbers right, but unfortunately, I threw it away -- so you just have to take my word for it. Fortunately there's an independent path to truth: my statistical calculations can be repeated by anyone who wants to look at the empirical data embedded in this blog. (BTW, I excluded my last 2 comments from the calculations, but not my pror 2 comments. So traces of my own behavior are embedded in my independent empirical praxis.

In any event, zero new comments have appeared in the 48 hours since my last comment. The blogtrain has moved on from this station. Without either the support or resistance imposed by interlocutors and audience, am I more free or less free to improvise, to attain something like "difference"?

[James K.A. Smith]

Sorry to have been incommunicado--I've been out of town and then on the road. But let me just say, now having a chance to glance through the conversations here, that this is just the sort of discussion we were hoping to generate. Clearly the conversations doesn't need me! Thanks, Cynthia, for a thoughtful contribution, and thanks also to those who have taken the time to contribute rigorously through the comments.

Cynthia is right to suggest that there's lots more to work out in terms of what this means for "rationality." Having just taught Lyotard again last week (out at Fuller Seminary), I was struck by two things:

1. Lyotard is really quite a sloppy thinker. So what is described as "postmodern" in one text is labeled "modern" in another, and what "metanarrative" means in one place is expanded and loosened in another. There are few philosophers so maddeningly imprecise. So more work needs to be done regarding the question of whether Christianity is a "metanarrative." My reading of _The Postmodern Condition_ is one I stand by, but it needs to be contextualized by folks doing work across Lyotard's corpus. While I'd like to find the time to do that work myself, it's not likely. So let me suggest that there's an article waiting to be written by an emerging philosopher/theologian!

2. A re-thinking of "rationality" as Cynthia suggests will have to take up the question of language games. And here I've become convinced that we need to take up Wittgenstein more intentionally (and perhaps engage Rorty more directly). I confess that I know just enough Wittgenstein to get into trouble; I'm hoping to rectify that as I teaching Philosophy of Language and Interpretation again this fall. The engagement with Wittgenstein should then be supplemented with a more direct engagement with the pragmatic tradition, particularly Peirce.

So many books, so little time!