Speculative Grace: The Weakness of Theism?

I. Overture

What if the theological concept of grace were ported into a non-theistic context? What would it look it? What modifications would it need to undergo?

In a previous post, I outlined the nature of this experiment and suggested that there are at least two reasons for taking an interest in it:

First, that in light of contemporary science, we have good reason to take seriously the claim that non-directed self-organization is fundamental (rather than incidental) to the nature of reality.

But, second, I also suggested that we may have good reason to be suspicious about the spiritual viability of some of the theoretical, ontological, and political baggage that is woven deep into the fabric of theistic ontologies. This post will explore an issue directly related to this second point.

II. Epictetus

I often teach Epictetus' Handbook in my Introduction to Philosophy classes and I think that he's on to something (setting aside for a moment the question of a Stoic metaphysics).

Why does this interest me here? Because Epictetus understands happiness in a way that tends to undermine many theistic conceptions of grace.

Epictetus' core claim is that human beings are unhappy because they do not correctly distinguish what is in their control from what is not in their control. We treat things that we can't control (like our bodies, our reputations, our possessions, etc.) as if we can control them and then, when we fail to control them, we're miserable. Or we act as if things we can control (like our desires, aversions, opinions, etc.) are not in our control and then throw up our hands in disgust when they push us around.

Unhappiness results (1) from failing to control what is in our power, and (2) from trying to control what is not in our power.

(An important note here: Epictetus' core claim depends on a drawing a strict distinction between [complete] control and [partial] influence. For example, we can influence our bodies and reputations, but we can't control them. Though, in one respect, it's precisely this limited degree of influence that often supports the painful delusion of control: “I seem to be able to influence some things some of the time, why can’t I control all things all of the time?!” )

In this vein, allow me to propose a Stoic definition of sin.

Sin: failing to control what is in our power + trying to control what is not in our power.

I think that this definition has broad applicability.

From an alternate angle, we might describe the Stoic project in the following way. Happiness results when desire equals reality (D = R). The difficulty is that desire, as such, exceeds reality (D > R).

III. Happiness as Satisfaction

Given this problematic, there are two ways of pursuing happiness - though as (sinful) human beings we almost universally pursue only the first.

1. First approach to happiness: you can try to get reality to be what you desire it to be.

There are two problems with this. First, reality is not in your control. Good luck getting things to turn out the way you want. Second, even if you were able, with spectacular luck, to get reality to be the way you wanted, you'd shortly (immediately?) want something else.

This first approach to happiness is a classic example of trying to control what is not in your control. Happiness, on this model, is (as Epictetus argues) demonstrably impossible . . . unless you claim, as theism does, that there is one person, one exception, for whom this is possible.

In a theistic ontology, God is defined by this exceptionality. God is God because that which he desires immediately comes to be. In fact, in this model, everything that exists exists precisely because (and only because) God wished it to be so. Creation ex nihilo is the key theistic claim: God is the single, original source from which all things come.

Further, we might describe this understanding of God  - and its correlative understanding of happiness - as a "gospel of the gaps."

In a “gospel of the gaps,” happiness can only be achieved when we transcend the way things presently (and deficiently) are and then definitively close the gap between desire and reality by finally getting reality to measure up.

In this model, grace is precisely that which closes the gap: "I cannot do it, I am unable to get what I want, but grace will make a gift of precisely this to me." 

Grace: a kind of transcendent supplement to the deficiency of the way things are.

Typically, the debate about whether this supplement comes as a result of “grace” or “works” (or some combination of the two) plays out on this theistic field: both positions understand the key to happiness to be finding that one perfect object (i.e., God) that can fill the gap between desire and reality and thus allow us to experience that same infinite satisfaction that God enjoys. In this way, God’s own (theistic?) satisfaction models the satisfaction that his grace in turn makes possible for us.

Let’s call this model in which happiness is achieved by getting reality to measure up to desire: the satisfaction model of happiness.

IV. Happiness as Givenness

The other option in pursuing happiness is the following:

2. The second approach to happiness: you can get your desires to fit the way things actually are.

For Epictetus, this approach is much more promising. Rather than getting reality to fit our desires (impossible!), we instead get our desires to fit reality.

The good news is that our desires are (at least potentially) in our power.

(Note: Epictetus’ claim that our desires are in fact in our control is likely a bit too strong. I’ll return to this in a later post, but for the moment we might simply gloss his claim as being consonant with the Christian axiom that human beings do, in fact, possess something like free will.)

For Epictetus, happiness is available at any given moment because what is is always enough.

This second approach accomplishes the same thing that the first approach aims at (it gets D = R) but it avoids sin by abandoning any attempt to transcend reality and control what it cannot control. Further, this approach also abandons any attempt to get God, via some supernatural supplement of grace, to control for us what we cannot control.

But what, then, of grace? Does it disappear in a non-theistic ontology? Is grace a mirage unless God is an exception to the rule that reality is, in some important respects, not in our control?

I don’t think that grace disappears without theism. But I do think that it ceases to appear as a supplement or gap-filler.

In this second model of happiness, life abandons itself to the immanence of the way things are. In short, life abandons itself to what is given. The key, here, is to hear in the word “given” both “gift” and “grace.”  

What is given? Grace.

(There is in all of this more than an allusion to the work of Jean-Luc Marion. I will return explicitly to Marion in the near future.)

Let's call this model of happiness: the givenness model of happiness.

Happiness results from affirmatively receiving whatever is given (good or bad, pleasant or unpleasant) as whatever kind of grace it is.

Misery results from: (1) the consistency of our selective rejection of what is real, and (2) the dependence of desire on the hope for a miraculous supplementation.

For Epictetus, the gap between desire and reality is closed only by abandoning the idea that there is (or was) any gap in the first place. For Epictetus, the very notion that there is a gap is the product of a sinful orientation.

In this sense, the satisfaction model of happiness - a model that is deeply intertwined with theistic claims - is problematic because it sublates (in the image of God himself) rather than reverses the “Stoic” logic of sin. If sin is trying to get reality to measure up to desire, then I believe that Epictetus' point may have some bite.

In the givenness model of happiness, happiness is achieved not because God finally gives me what I want, but because I finally choose to want whatever has been given. Thus, the conditions for happiness are always already present, always already immanent, always already given, and this without precondition or expectation. We're free to refuse it, but that doesn't retract its givenness. 

And our refusal certainly cannot affect its graciousness as an unconditional gift.

A nontheistic conception of grace – if such a thing is possible or desirable – will, I think, have to tread a humble, immanent path such as this.

Comments

[Tracy Shier]

A few small points. I read Epictetus as saying that which we control is real, that which we do not control is not real, a mere "impression." According to Epictetus, we should not be concerned with what is not real. How does this reading square with the desire/reality distinction or formulation?

An often overlooked and not often commented on feature of ancient Greek philosophers is that they were all doing Theology. St. Augustine recognized this in City of God. How do you propose to get to a non-theistic notion of grace from a theistic system of thought?

Finally, this is all sounding pretty universal and propositional to me and wouldn't the post-modern mind dismiss the entire experiment on these grounds?

[Adam Miller]

Thanks again, Tracy, for your comments.

You say:

"A few small points. I read Epictetus as saying that which we control is real, that which we do not control is not real, a mere "impression." According to Epictetus, we should not be concerned with what is not real. How does this reading square with the desire/reality distinction or formulation?"

ASM: I may not correctly understand your point, but I'm not familiar with this reading of Epictetus. It seems to me that one definitive mark of what is real is that we are not able to control it. If this is not Epictetus' position, then it would be mine nonetheless.

"An often overlooked and not often commented on feature of ancient Greek philosophers is that they were all doing Theology. St. Augustine recognized this in City of God. How do you propose to get to a non-theistic notion of grace from a theistic system of thought?"

ASM: Yes, this is why I left aside the question of Stoic metaphysics. Epictetus' ethical theory will itself need to "ported" out of its classical ontology. But, at least for the moment, I think it provides a useful foil at the practical level.

"Finally, this is all sounding pretty universal and propositional to me and wouldn't the post-modern mind dismiss the entire experiment on these grounds?"

ASM: The postmodern mind might dismiss it on these grounds.

Part of my projects is, as I mentioned previously, to push back from the inside against some aspects of what is called "postmodernism."

But, in general, I think this experiment is very much "postmodern" in spirit.

For instance, Jean-Luc Marion's Being Given is very universal and often propositional, but I think it is one of the best examples of productive "postmodern" thinking.

[Tracy Shier]

The first few lines of what has become known as "The Serenity Prayer" by Reinhold Niebuhr reads:

God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.

If I understand you correctly to this point, a non-theistic grace would look something like:

Accept the things I cannot change (all things external to me and over which I have no control),
Change the things I can (all things interior to me and over which I do have control)
...[thereby] (I will thus obtain) wisdom (Grace) to know the difference (which will result in my happiness, which is my ultimate goal.)

Is that right?

[Adam Miller]

Tracy,

Thanks for referencing the serenity prayer. I'd wanted to use it in the post and never found a convenient spot for it.

I think that your formulation is on track and I'd certainly like to associate grace with the "wisdom" needed to tell the difference between what I can and cannot change, but primarily I aim to associate grace with the category of "things I cannot change" or "that over which I have no control."

In other words, in the end, I want to strongly associate "grace" with "givenness" - the givenness of what I did not choose and cannot control - itself.

I admit, though, that this will likely take a bit more work in the coming weeks to lay out in any meaningful way.

[Bryan]

Interesting article, however, the claims suggested above does not eliminate the need for God and salvation. The observations of Epictetus are interesting and actually agreeable. This, however, does not make the theistic model for grace simply 'go away'. He has only found to be true what was invented by God to begin with and simply claimed its authorship. We all have a will that can choose 'the good' any time we want and in delusion, eliminate the need for God. The need for God is birthed at the existential level. It is a state of being and not a state of doing that we need God. Even if we choose 'the good' from now until death, we have not eliminated the existential disease from which the possibility exists to choose evil. It appears as though you have chosen a non-theistic model of grace that I do not find myself entirely in disagreement. Its discovery only points towards an author that is not given credit for his work.