Some thoughts on the Grandeur of Reason conference

The announcement of the Centre for Theology and Philosophy's upcoming conference on the 'Grandeur of Reason' has occasioned a fair amount of debate on some theology blogs.

First of all, the conference itself looks set to be spectacular with a line up of theologians and philosophers including the likes of John Milbank, David B. Hart, Fergus Kerr and Slavoij Zizek. The précis of the conference is said to have been taken from Pope Benedict XVI's Regensburg Address wherein he calls for a renewal of the relationship between faith and reason, which avoids the extremes of a fideism wherein God's decrees are completely divorced from humanity's reasoning and a reason which seeks to insulate itself from God altogether.

As a Catholic, I cannot say I share the same concerns that appear to trouble some of the contributors to the debate. The idea that Radical Orthodoxy's position sits too comfortably with that of the current Papacy is not really something that displeases me. The trajectory that RO also seems to be taking towards a more 'universalised' reason (as Jamie Smith contends) is, again, something I would welcome.

It does, however, strike a strange chord in me to hear RO speaking in the sort of way that they do in the conference précis: "From this standpoint we hope to begin thinking through an authentic understanding of tolerance and ecumenism. Our task is thus to establish a path of honest intercultural communication in pursuit of universal truth, guided by the "grandeur" of reason, and unashamedly grounded in the cultural and historical tradition of Christianity."

One of my principle problems with Milbank (and to that extent with various other RO 'adherents') has been the relativistic position he has adopted regarding the claims of reason. Whilst I had no problem with the dismantling of the 'Enlightenment' pretension of a neutral reason operating devoid of all particularities, the notion that the claims of the Christian 'meta-narrative' could only be articulated rhetorically and its truths only adhered to through literary reasons of 'good taste', is simply not compatible with Roman Catholic doctrine. As I argued in my posts on Milbank's essay 'The End of Dialogue', his position does not allow for any real engagement with other traditions.

Of course, Milbank has always insisted that his position is not a fideistic one and indeed he criticises the likes of Barth on that score. The exact envisaging of the relationship between faith and reason has remained somewhat opaque. However, as Smith has noted, the 'later' Milbank is moving towards a position seemingly less extreme than that offered in Theology and Social Theory. I don't think he'd yet embrace the idea of 'natural reason' as Smith suggests or of 'natural law' but his comments on the subject have changed rather dramatically. In an article responding to various readings of TST he rejected Aidan Nicholls' criticisms of his treatment of 'common wisdom', 'natural law' and the like by dismissingly calling them all "yogic delights".

However, Smith sees in Milbank a 'universalizing' tendency which is almost rehabilitating a 'natural theology' tradition in a different guise. He sees this change most markedly in Being Reconciled. (Introducing Radical Orthodoxy, p.165)

I think Smith's qualms about this are a consequence of his Reformed background and the emphasis he wishes to place on the fallen nature of human reason. As D.B. Hart responded to Smith, despite not having placed enough emphasis on a common rationality in The Beauty of the Infinite, his project does not involve the sort of incommensurability thesis that Smith wants to hold on to. Perhaps a similar sort of thing is happening with Milbank who wants to emphasise that the continued giving of grace after the fall in effect 'nullifies' to an extent the idea that reason has fallen to such an extent that it simply cannot function in any 'universal' manner whatsoever. (Introducing, p. 165)

It might not be going too far to say that this conception of universality Milbank seems to be promoting isn't THAT far from the Rahner's anonymous Christianity! So instead of a 'secular reason' acting in a universal fashion because divorced from all religious particularities, there is a universal drive of human reason towards the grace showered upon all. I think this is possible because the differences between de Lubac and Rahner aren't as pronounced as commentators (including Milbank) would have one believe.

Eric Lee, for example, makes a similar point when he argues that it is the Universality of the Logos that allows for a certain commonality and possibility of genuine debate and engagement (as opposed, perhaps, to simply 'out-narrating' one's opponent). This, however, still leaves the question of to what extent the Logos must be explicitly referred to when talking in the public sphere. Would we constantly need to articulate the entire Christian meta-narrative when proclaiming our views? With this in mind I found a comment made by Milbank especially interesting.

In the book God's Advocates, where he features in one of the interviews, he describes just this dilemma: "let's think of the situation of the Church, especially the Roman Catholic Church today, when it tries to speak in the public realm about moral and political issues. The dilemma is: do you speak on the basis of a natural law that should be available to everybody, whether or not they're recognising God, in which case it's very doubtful whether you're talking about any kind of natural law that the Middle Ages could have recognised; or do you, on the other hand, say that our positions are grounded in our entire Catholic vision, and here the obvious risk is that people will ask why the should listen. But you might also say that that's the only possible alternative course because, in fact, what we say only makes sense in terms of our entire vision."

What he then goes on to say is interesting, not least because it is far removed from what the general perception of Milbank would have you think he'd say. (Again, I think this is partly due to Milbank's own rhetorical ploys). Speaking of the trajectory of de Lubac's theology he goes on to say that "that kind of perspective would say that, speaking in the Christian realm, we should latch onto things that aren't completely unchristian, or that to some extent remain residually Christian. People still talk about forgiveness, reconciliation and mercy, and the idea that each person matters as much as everyone else, in a way that pagans, on a whole, didn't. And therefore we don't need to speak within a completely natural law-based kind of discourse: we can get people to try to see more deeply the implications of what they already think. This includes getting them to recognise that their vision isn't completely cut off from something that in the end resembles a religious vision; but it also doesn't mean that one has to start by overwhelming them with one's entire Christian meta-narrative and ontology." The part in bold is particularly interesting as it is just such a thing many would associate Milbank with advocating!


In this paper, he also calls for a renewed Christian humanism, emphasising that traces of the divine can be found in cultures and religions other than Christianity, and that the doctrine of the incarnation serves as a validation of the "human as such". Thus Milbank seems to be moving away from the incommensurability thesis that seemed more apparent in TST. It is just such a move that I think distresses someone like Smith but in the same way that Hart stated that his theological project wasn't intended to suggest that there was no such thing as a common reason, I think Milbank perhaps also overemphasised this point and is now seeking to redress the balance somewhat.

Rhetorical posturing may have led to many thinking that RO almost advocated not listening to others (the 'twenty-four theses' are a prime example of this'). In practice this isn't really the case though. Take a look at Conor Cunningham's critique of evolution for example, barely any reference to theology at all – so clearly a constant harking back to theological positions is not necessary, and something like Neo-Darwinism can be critiqued on its own terms. With that in mind I wonder whether Milbank would modify his critique of Macintyre in TST? Interestingly, Smith also mentions in a footnote that the Milbank of Being Reconciled is far closer to the Macintyre he criticises in TST. (Introducing, p.181)

It was also especially intriguing to hear that Milbank had allegedly said that the problem with Islam is that it has no conception of the secular! Not sure if this could be verified but if so, then he's probably going a bit too far! That aspect of the conference (i.e. Islam) should also be fascinating although I wish I had more insight into what exactly the RO position regarding Islam (which again seems to be a bone of contention) is. The only clue I have is the articles by Adrian Pabst and Phillip Blond in the International Herald Tribune, but as regards Milbank his sparse comments on Islam have never struck me as overtly negative.

Hopefully, the conference will help elucidate these issues and provide greater insight into Milbank's views on the role of reason. I'm also particularly interested in what D.B. Hart might have to say and whether he'll build upon the reply he made to Smith's assessment of his work.

Is Kierkegaard's view of faith "irrationalist"?

Before looking at Kierkegaard’s view of faith I feel it is necessary to point out that the question of what view exactly should be attributed to Kierkegaard becomes complicated when one considers his use of pseudonyms. I cannot proceed to delve deep into this discussion but throughout I will honour Kierkegaard’s wish that when writing about his works people should refer to the pseudonym they were attributed to. Thus it may be said that the following is a discussion of a view of faith which can be found in Kierkegaard’s writings, with there being a strong enough trajectory in a certain direction for it to be permissible to speak of a unified view of faith. The view most commonly attributed to Kierkegaard is that of the necessity of a “leap of faith”. However, it is in fact the case that these words never appear in the original Danish transcripts. It would be better to characterise his view as that of a leap into faith. A venture was necessary to move from the ethical realm to the religious realm, just as it is necessary in the move from the aesthetic sphere to that of the ethical. Kierkegaard was convinced that Reason could not lead one to faith, and in fact it at times appears that he felt it was an active impediment to becoming a Christian. He spoke as if it were necessary to protect Christianity from any proofs of the existence of God or the divinity of Christ. Such ‘proofs’, he felt, were an absurdity.

In Practice in Christianity Anti-Climacus speaks of an “infinite qualitative difference” between God and man. Due to this, the very idea of Jesus Christ, the God-man can only provoke offence. To man’s finite reason the very idea is nothing but an absurdity and the only way to get around the offence is to believe. Anti-Climacus thus rails against all so-called proofs for Christianity such as those from history, as if the past 1800 years (at the time of writing) had somehow made more plausible the claims of Christianity. Thus in the Concluding Unscientific Postscript Climacus takes seriously Lessing’s assertion that contingent historical truths can never become a demonstration of eternal truths of reason, an assertion Christian apologists are usually engaged in attempting to refute.

For Kierkegaard these arguments against reasoned proposals for the faith were an element in his artillery against the state of affairs in ‘Christendom’ where it was assumed that everyone was a Christian. The notion of becoming contemporaneous with Christ appears in this context. What this means is that it was no easier for the apostles to believe than it is for us now. History as such does not really play a part in the fruition of faith; we must become contemporaneous with Christ as the apostles were in order to respond to Christ’s call with infinite passion whether that is faith or offence. The possibility of offence is one which Kierkegaard time and time brings attention to, being a Christian (that is, to have faith) is not a matter of simply being a good citizen who goes to Church on Sundays. On the contrary, as Anti-Climacus puts it, “to be a Christian is to mean…to human eyes, to be the abased one, that is to mean suffering every possible evil”.

Kierkegaard expresses the notion of faith requiring “objective uncertainty” in the following evocative passage by Johannes Climacus: “If I wish to preserve myself in faith I must constantly be intent upon holding fast the objective uncertainty, so as to remain out upon the deep, over seventy fathoms of water, still preserving my faith.” In this sense Kierkegaard’s writings are certainly of a fideistic nature but this was not an unsophisticated fideism which simply held that one believe whatever one wants to, rather it relied on the priority of a passionate personal commitment over a detached and supposedly objective inquiry into the truth. Hence Johannes Climacus’ dictum that “Truth is subjectivity”. This should not be misinterpreted to mean that truth is simply whatever one wishes it to be and that the objective truth of Christianity is unimportant, but that to assent to the doctrines of Christianity because one feels that they have been adequately demonstrated by rational methods is to lose the passionate element in faith which is a necessity in making it a living faith.

However, how far exactly this view pertains to Kierkegaard’s own is difficult to ascertain for Johannes Climacus states that he is not a Christian and so his views may not equate entirely with those Kierkegaard held. However, the conviction that faith is a passion and that objective certainty is in some ways a hindrance to the possibility of faith is one that appears frequently in Kierkegaard’s work and there is no doubt that he held it himself in some way, even if in not quite so radical a fashion as Johannes Climacus. It remains to be said that Kierkegaard’s emphasis on paradox and how Christianity must appear absurd to a human perspective has a noble ancestry. St. Paul essentially expresses the same idea when he speaks of preaching the crucified Christ for salvation as “folly” and a “stumbling block.”

Since I've written a bit about Newman's views of the relations between faith and reason I thought I'd elaborate a little on their convergences (in that both were thinkers passionately concerned with the subjective appropriation of the Christian faith) and also their differences.

Newman was unhappy with the torpid state of the Church and felt that a mere moralism was stifling a vibrant and living faith. Likewise Kierkegaard too, had to contend with forces which he felt were opposed to genuine Christian faith, in his case the philosophy of Hegel and the deleterious effects it had on a doctrine of the individual Christian believer standing before God, instead subsuming said individual within an all-encompassing system. The attack Kierkegaard directed at “the present age” which “relaxes temporarily in complete indolence” bares similarities with Newman’s struggles against an officially Christian society which had practically speaking ceased to be so. The two thinkers shared similar historical circumstances in that they were members of a society with an established Church where being a Christian was a matter of course. Both Kierkegaard and Newman were ‘subjective’ thinkers, concerned that individuals should be aware of what the demands of Christianity entail and thus they fought against the debilitating effects of a nominal Christianity. This meant in their eyes, something quite different from being merely a good citizen, a gentlemen.

They can also be said to be somewhat similar in their critique of rationalism in theology and any claims of reason to be the sole arbiter of truth. Here, however, it is clear that Newman did not develop a polemic against reason as vehement as that of Kierkegaard. Newman’s desire was to demonstrate that faith and reason do not conflict and that reason ought not to be conceived in a narrow sense as philosophers such as Locke and Hume had done. Kierkegaard, on the other hand, seems as times to be arguing for the complete impotence of reason and an anti-intellectualist stance. This view of Kierkegaard is perhaps too superficial although it is entirely understandable why someone should arrive at it. I believe, however, that Kierkegaard’s primary concern was to maintain the element of passion in faith, it was not an attack on reason per se. It is not irrational if reason assents to its limits and there is no question of an arbitrary imposition of limits on reason. If this is the case then Kierkegaard can simply be seen to be accepting man’s finite nature which includes the use of reason. It nevertheless remains true that Newman appears to have had a higher regard for the capabilities of reason in the religious sphere than did Kierkegaard. Neither thinker, however, would have been out of place in today’s philosophical milieu. It might be questioned, however, whether Kierkegaard's particular polemic against reason is a consequence of remaining captive to a Kantian conception of it. That reason is finite no one would wish to dispute but that it cannot raise itself to knowledge of God's existence is another matter entirely and as I have argued elsewhere on the site, coming to know God's existence is not an instance of 'onto-theology' and reason's idolatrous grasping at the divine.

One area in which they differ is over the notion of the necessity of a “leap” in coming to know religious truths. Kierkegaard’s temperament was often shaped by a stark either/or and so there is a greater stress on the element of decision in the religious as well as ethical life (e.g. “Now the issue is: will you be offended or will you believe.”). Newman, on the other hand, was more disposed to favour an element of gradation in the coming to fruition of faith. It does not happen ‘all at once’, as the result of a decisive leap from the individual, but is the coming together of various different factors which contribute to the appearance of faith, as we have seen in the discussion of the illative sense. Nicholas Lash aptly sums up this view with his remark that “Newman never ‘leapt’ anywhere in his life”.

There are also differences in the two thinkers views on what sort of difference Christian faith has to someone’s life. Whilst both maintained that it would involve a radical transformation of the person, Kierkegaard stressed that becoming a Christian entails a wholly qualitative change, whereas Newman felt that it required a dramatic building upon the natural religious sensibility of the human person. Again the notion of a leap comes into play here; Kierkegaard affirms its necessity whereas Newman considers that “it has been the plan of Divine Providence to ground what is good and true in religion and morals, on the basis of our good natural feelings.” Newman would thus have no qualms over the Thomist axiom that "grace does not destroy nature but perfects it." Kierkegaard, on the other hand, wishes to emphasise the more dramatic aspects of Christianity's breaking into the world, disrupting the categories of human reasoning and overturning all our expectations. And these two different emphases, I suppose, must forever remain in tension within theology.

Newman on Faith and Reason

Cynthia Nielson has written on Michael Polanyi's notion of "tacit knowledge". Polanyi held that all knowledge is an affair of the whole person and that even in the sphere of natural science all rational knowledge includes certain faith based elements. I was struck by the parallels between Polanyi's "tacit knowledge" and Newman's "illative sense" which he employs in the specifically theological context of how people come to know God.

Newman devoted a great deal of effort to resolving the question of faith’s relation to reason. This was a particularly acute issue in his time with the growing rise of sceptical attitudes towards religion. In particular he wished to challenge the view of reason maintained by the British empiricist tradition that placed it squarely within a rationalist and empirical context. Newman felt Locke in particular had simply misrepresented the facts of experience in order to make them fit into his arbitrary theory. Newman wanted to show his contemporaries that faith and reason do not conflict but also that reason (conceived in a narrow rationalistic sense) cannot be seen as being above faith and the arbiter of all truth. Instead he offers the following statement: “Reason need not be the origin of Faith, as Faith exists in the very persons believing, though it does test and verify it." This follows in the tradition of Anselm’s “faith seeking understanding.” Reason has a role to play but faith is in no way subordinate to it, in fact it has primacy.

Newman’s view of faith’s assent to the truths of Christianity was influenced by the work of Bishop Butler and his insistence on taking the mind in “the particular constitution of our actual human nature”. Newman was interested in how people actually come to hold certain beliefs, not some theory which has little to do with reality. He did not see much value in syllogistic proofs for the existence of God, for he was well aware that the average person in the pew simply does not come to believe in such a manner. He expressed his incredulity at the thought of anyone coming to faith through logical argumentation in the following manner: “first shoot round corners, and you may not despair of converting by a syllogism.” For the vast majority of people faith is a far less clear-cut affair. Nevertheless, Newman could not therefore conclude that most Christians do not actually have faith but are rather merely prey to superstition: “If children, if the poor, if the busy can have true faith, yet cannot weigh evidence, evidence is not the simple foundation on which faith is built”.

Newman’s theory was that people came to believe for various different reasons, any one of which taken separately would not suffice to establish faith, but taken as a whole were enough to propel someone towards faith. If one reflects on one’s own faith, it becomes clear that this idea will often accord with one’s own experience – it is difficult to say just why one believes exactly, for there exist a whole host of ‘lesser’ reasons. Yet the assent cannot be therefore dismissed as irrational. As Newman states: "Assent in reasonings not demonstrative is too widely recognized an act to be irrational". Newman thus sees faith as rationally grounded (that is to say, it is not simply a purely volitional act), but not a wholly rationalist enterprise if that is taken to mean the intellect’s assent to doctrinal propositions. Faith must thus be seen as a ‘venture’, for reason alone cannot propel the person towards Christianity. The certainty of faith cannot annul the element of risk inherent in the act of faith. Newman called the coming together of various strands of argument to create certitude the “illative sense”. This faculty of the reason works in a spontaneous manner and so it may seem like there is no truly reasoned process going on, it is ‘unconscious’. Newman himself puts it this way: “Faith is the simple lifting of the mind to the Unseen God, without conscious reasoning or formal argument.” One could almost say that Newman’s work on faith and reason is like an extended discussion of Pascal’s saying that “the heart has its reasons, of which reason knows nothing.” This does not mean that faith is irrational, merely that ‘reason’ must be interpreted in a wider sense than ‘rationality’. Newman also stressed the role of conscience in faith and believed that conscience provided the greatest ‘proof’ for God’s existence. This is so because conscience automatically looks to something above itself for its sanction. This ‘something higher’ is a moral law-giver ultimately identified as God.

Newman’s insistence that the act of faith was an affair of the whole person, heart as well as mind, was an impetus towards making faith a truly life-changing affair and constitutive of one’s actions. Newman makes this clear in his discussion of the ‘Spiritual mind’. The person who has truly made the Christian faith his own will be entirely transformed; he will be made in the form of Christ so to speak. This acting Christianly is something quite different from those with a ‘religious’ attitude that may well be full of civic virtue. Newman does not deny that such people do much that is good and yet this obedience “yet hardly deserve[s] the title of Christian.” Christian faith is demanding, it requires “an utter and absolute captivity of [one’s] will to His will.”