Newman’s ecclesiology encompasses such issues as the role of the laity, the relationship between theologians and the magisterium and the role of authority. Certain dimensions of his ecclesiology drew fire from his critics although the suspicions of his orthodoxy (levelled at him by other Catholics) were unjustified and the Vatican II declaration on the Church vindicates his arguments. Nevertheless certain of his views are somewhat dangerous in that they appear to reflect an overly positive view at times such as, for example, the notion that the laity ought to be consulted on matters of faith - quite what this entails is of supreme importance.
The concept of the threefold office of the Church comprises Newman’s ecclesiological views. He articulates this view in his 1877 preface to ‘Lectures on the Prophetical Office of the Church’, written when he was atill an Anglican. This threefold office corresponds to the threefold ministry of Christ, whose body the Church is. The three offices – prophetic, priestly and kingly – correspond to three offices in the Church, respectively: theology (prophetic), the worshipping community (priestly) and governance – the provenance of the Pope and the hierarchy (kingly). Even during his period as an Anglican Newman had developed an ecclesiology which, although conceived of as a ‘Via Media’ between Protestantism and the Roman Catholic Church, was heavily indebted to the Church Fathers. He wanted to return to the Catholicism of the Church. Newman was utterly opposed to the protestant notion of ‘private judgement’ wherein each individual judged revelation of his accord. The simple historical fact that so many diverse opinions resulted through this emphasis on ‘sola scriptura’ was enough to show forth the need for the authority of the Church which correctly interprets scripture (does not ‘invent’ it, although development of doctrine may occur, i.e. a making explicit of what was already implicit in revelation). This notion of development can be seen as the result of Newman’s division of tradition into ‘Episcopal’ (derived from the apostles) and ‘Prophetical’ (derived from the interpretation of revelation. In this preface Newman also sought to explore the relation between the formal teaching of the Church and its popular manifestation. Thus Newman was able to both acknowledge that there was corruption in the Church as well as assert that this cannot be attributed to the official teaching of the Church. The role of the theologian is to attempt to regulate the teaching of the Church, although he was also sensitive to popular devotion and felt theology needed to let this seep through so that it may not become cold and rigid. Newman even went so far as to express his doubts that, were any nation to completely do away with superstition, faith could still be said to exist there.
This brings us to the issue of the role of the Laity – something that brought about suspicions of his orthodoxy. Newman’s experiences as Rector of the Catholic University of Ireland (1851-1858) made him aware of the little regard with which the hierarchy regarded the laity. Newman wrote an article in the liberal Catholic publication ‘The Rambler’ (of which he had been made editor – a ‘compromise’ choice, it was hoped he would reign in the more radical aspects of the paper whilst still contributing to the task of creating an educated laity) entitled “On Consulting the Faithful in Matters of Doctrine”. In this work he argued that the Church ‘consults’ the laity (in the sense of inquiring into a matter of fact, not of asking its opinion) before defining a doctrine. The ‘consensus fidelium’ was an indicator of the faith of the Church. Newman had first explored this idea in his work ‘The Arians of the Fourth Century’ in which he argued that it had been the laity, not the Bishops, who had upheld orthodoxy. Newman argued that the Church had to take into account the faithful and that this was necessary for its well-being. This did not go down well with members of the Roman curia nor with Catholics closer to home such as Cardinal Manning. It was considered that Newman was endangering the notion of authority and his statement that "there was a temporary suspense of the functions of the Ecclesia docens" in the fourth century appeared to many that Newman was calling into question the infallibility of the Church’s magisterium by claiming that it had failed over the Arian controversy. Monsignor Talbot in Rome interpreted Newman’s invocation of the “consensus fidelium” as meaning a consensus of the faithful in opposition to the clergy. As Ian Ker points out, Newman’s terminology – his use of the word consult – was certainly the cause of much confusion. These arguments, however, do not stand up when one considers Newman’s respect for authority (more will be said on this in due course). What they reflected was an inflated view of the hierarchy which was seen as the ‘real’ Church whilst the laity were simply ‘passengers’. Vatican II’s decree on the dogmatic constitution of the Church, ‘Lumen Gentium’, vindicates Newman’s approach by seeing the Church as ‘The People of God’, that is both clergy and laity whose role was given much greater emphasis than in the past. On this, as with many things, Newman can be seen to have been ahead of his time.
Nevertheless, it must be said that on this issue one can see why many would have had qualms. For example, today many Catholics (mistakenly) appeal to this notion in defense of their dissenting views against the magisterium. If the Church were to consult the faithful on matters of doctrine today, she may be given a rather odd, if not downright heretical, view. This, of course, is to look on one aspect of Newman’s ecclesiology to the neglect of others such as the authority of the Church. As already noted, Newman felt all needed to co-exist in a creative tension for the Church to function correctly. Also Newman’s conception of the ‘faithful’ was one which tried to reflect the earlier Church’s conception – that of all faithful, baptized Christians – before a stark division had been made between clergy and laity.
It is said to reflect that these suspicions on his orthodoxy had such an effect that Newman ceased to publish until spurred into action by Charles Kingsley’s attack on him which gave rise to Newman’s classic ‘Apologia pro vita sua’. With this work Newman endeared himself once again to English Catholics. When one considers Newman’s views on authority, however, it is difficult to understand how one could have doubted his orthodoxy. He was, to be sure, no ‘ultramontane’ such as Cardinal Manning, yet neither could he be seen as a liberal Catholic who despised tradition. This can be seen in his rejection of the principle of private judgment and his emphasis on the need for an authoritative protection of the “deposit of faith”. Thus he was a defender of infallibility and was particularly pleased with the decree when it eventually came out for it was fairly restrained. He championed the rights of conscience but this had a role in the practical sphere in which infallible judgements could not be pronounced. Conscience could not simply go against authority without due consideration and the need for an informed conscience.
As against theologians who would make martyrs of their being silenced (a la Hans Kung), he asserted that even when in a particular case the hierarchical Church may be wrong there is a need for the theologian to abide by the decision out of the “obedience of faith” even though he may hope that in time his opinion may be vindicated: one can see this sort of attitude in such theologians as Yves Congar and Henri de Lubac - their insights ultimately being taken up into the purview of the Church. That said, he did desire greater discussion amongst theologians that an opinion may either be vindicated or eventually condemned and looked to the Middle Ages as an ideal when the Church ‘let things go’ for a period of time until it finally made a decision. But submission to authority was not something which Newman wished to downplay, even when it may be unjust, for challenging it only does greater damage to the Church as a whole.
Newman’s ecclesiological views did not warrant the suspicions with which certain members of the Church looked upon them. He was ahead of his time and his influence can be seen in Vatican II documents. His being chosen as a Cardinal is also a vindication of his orthodoxy even in his own time.
Showing posts with label Newman. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Newman. Show all posts
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Newman's Ecclesiology
Newman’s ecclesiology encompasses such issues as the role of the laity, the relationship between theologians and the magisterium and the role of authority. Certain dimensions of his ecclesiology drew fire from his critics although the suspicions of his orthodoxy (levelled at him by other Catholics) were unjustified and the Vatican II declaration on the Church vindicates his arguments. Nevertheless certain of his views are somewhat dangerous in that they appear to reflect an overly positive view at times such as, for example, the notion that the laity ought to be consulted on matters of faith - quite what this entails is of supreme importance.
The concept of the threefold office of the Church comprises Newman’s ecclesiological views. He articulates this view in his 1877 preface to ‘Lectures on the Prophetical Office of the Church’, written when he was atill an Anglican. This threefold office corresponds to the threefold ministry of Christ, whose body the Church is. The three offices – prophetic, priestly and kingly – correspond to three offices in the Church, respectively: theology (prophetic), the worshipping community (priestly) and governance – the provenance of the Pope and the hierarchy (kingly). Even during his period as an Anglican Newman had developed an ecclesiology which, although conceived of as a ‘Via Media’ between Protestantism and the Roman Catholic Church, was heavily indebted to the Church Fathers. He wanted to return to the Catholicism of the Church. Newman was utterly opposed to the protestant notion of ‘private judgement’ wherein each individual judged revelation of his accord. The simple historical fact that so many diverse opinions resulted through this emphasis on ‘sola scriptura’ was enough to show forth the need for the authority of the Church which correctly interprets scripture (does not ‘invent’ it, although development of doctrine may occur, i.e. a making explicit of what was already implicit in revelation). This notion of development can be seen as the result of Newman’s division of tradition into ‘Episcopal’ (derived from the apostles) and ‘Prophetical’ (derived from the interpretation of revelation. In this preface Newman also sought to explore the relation between the formal teaching of the Church and its popular manifestation. Thus Newman was able to both acknowledge that there was corruption in the Church as well as assert that this cannot be attributed to the official teaching of the Church. The role of the theologian is to attempt to regulate the teaching of the Church, although he was also sensitive to popular devotion and felt theology needed to let this seep through so that it may not become cold and rigid. Newman even went so far as to express his doubts that, were any nation to completely do away with superstition, faith could still be said to exist there.
This brings us to the issue of the role of the Laity – something that brought about suspicions of his orthodoxy. Newman’s experiences as Rector of the Catholic University of Ireland (1851-1858) made him aware of the little regard with which the hierarchy regarded the laity. Newman wrote an article in the liberal Catholic publication ‘The Rambler’ (of which he had been made editor – a ‘compromise’ choice, it was hoped he would reign in the more radical aspects of the paper whilst still contributing to the task of creating an educated laity) entitled “On Consulting the Faithful in Matters of Doctrine”. In this work he argued that the Church ‘consults’ the laity (in the sense of inquiring into a matter of fact, not of asking its opinion) before defining a doctrine. The ‘consensus fidelium’ was an indicator of the faith of the Church. Newman had first explored this idea in his work ‘The Arians of the Fourth Century’ in which he argued that it had been the laity, not the Bishops, who had upheld orthodoxy. Newman argued that the Church had to take into account the faithful and that this was necessary for its well-being. This did not go down well with members of the Roman curia nor with Catholics closer to home such as Cardinal Manning. It was considered that Newman was endangering the notion of authority and his statement that "there was a temporary suspense of the functions of the Ecclesia docens" in the fourth century appeared to many that Newman was calling into question the infallibility of the Church’s magisterium by claiming that it had failed over the Arian controversy. Monsignor Talbot in Rome interpreted Newman’s invocation of the “consensus fidelium” as meaning a consensus of the faithful in opposition to the clergy. As Ian Ker points out, Newman’s terminology – his use of the word consult – was certainly the cause of much confusion. These arguments, however, do not stand up when one considers Newman’s respect for authority (more will be said on this in due course). What they reflected was an inflated view of the hierarchy which was seen as the ‘real’ Church whilst the laity were simply ‘passengers’. Vatican II’s decree on the dogmatic constitution of the Church, ‘Lumen Gentium’, vindicates Newman’s approach by seeing the Church as ‘The People of God’, that is both clergy and laity whose role was given much greater emphasis than in the past. On this, as with many things, Newman can be seen to have been ahead of his time.
Nevertheless, it must be said that on this issue one can see why many would have had qualms. For example, today many Catholics (mistakenly) appeal to this notion in defense of their dissenting views against the magisterium. If the Church were to consult the faithful on matters of doctrine today, she may be given a rather odd, if not downright heretical, view. This, of course, is to look on one aspect of Newman’s ecclesiology to the neglect of others such as the authority of the Church. As already noted, Newman felt all needed to co-exist in a creative tension for the Church to function correctly. Also Newman’s conception of the ‘faithful’ was one which tried to reflect the earlier Church’s conception – that of all faithful, baptized Christians – before a stark division had been made between clergy and laity.
It is said to reflect that these suspicions on his orthodoxy had such an effect that Newman ceased to publish until spurred into action by Charles Kingsley’s attack on him which gave rise to Newman’s classic ‘Apologia pro vita sua’. With this work Newman endeared himself once again to English Catholics. When one considers Newman’s views on authority, however, it is difficult to understand how one could have doubted his orthodoxy. He was, to be sure, no ‘ultramontane’ such as Cardinal Manning, yet neither could he be seen as a liberal Catholic who despised tradition. This can be seen in his rejection of the principle of private judgment and his emphasis on the need for an authoritative protection of the “deposit of faith”. Thus he was a defender of infallibility and was particularly pleased with the decree when it eventually came out for it was fairly restrained. He championed the rights of conscience but this had a role in the practical sphere in which infallible judgements could not be pronounced. Conscience could not simply go against authority without due consideration and the need for an informed conscience.
As against theologians who would make martyrs of their being silenced (a la Hans Kung), he asserted that even when in a particular case the hierarchical Church may be wrong there is a need for the theologian to abide by the decision out of the “obedience of faith” even though he may hope that in time his opinion may be vindicated: one can see this sort of attitude in such theologians as Yves Congar and Henri de Lubac - their insights ultimately being taken up into the purview of the Church. That said, he did desire greater discussion amongst theologians that an opinion may either be vindicated or eventually condemned and looked to the Middle Ages as an ideal when the Church ‘let things go’ for a period of time until it finally made a decision. But submission to authority was not something which Newman wished to downplay, even when it may be unjust, for challenging it only does greater damage to the Church as a whole.
Newman’s ecclesiological views did not warrant the suspicions with which certain members of the Church looked upon them. He was ahead of his time and his influence can be seen in Vatican II documents. His being chosen as a Cardinal is also a vindication of his orthodoxy even in his own time.
The concept of the threefold office of the Church comprises Newman’s ecclesiological views. He articulates this view in his 1877 preface to ‘Lectures on the Prophetical Office of the Church’, written when he was atill an Anglican. This threefold office corresponds to the threefold ministry of Christ, whose body the Church is. The three offices – prophetic, priestly and kingly – correspond to three offices in the Church, respectively: theology (prophetic), the worshipping community (priestly) and governance – the provenance of the Pope and the hierarchy (kingly). Even during his period as an Anglican Newman had developed an ecclesiology which, although conceived of as a ‘Via Media’ between Protestantism and the Roman Catholic Church, was heavily indebted to the Church Fathers. He wanted to return to the Catholicism of the Church. Newman was utterly opposed to the protestant notion of ‘private judgement’ wherein each individual judged revelation of his accord. The simple historical fact that so many diverse opinions resulted through this emphasis on ‘sola scriptura’ was enough to show forth the need for the authority of the Church which correctly interprets scripture (does not ‘invent’ it, although development of doctrine may occur, i.e. a making explicit of what was already implicit in revelation). This notion of development can be seen as the result of Newman’s division of tradition into ‘Episcopal’ (derived from the apostles) and ‘Prophetical’ (derived from the interpretation of revelation. In this preface Newman also sought to explore the relation between the formal teaching of the Church and its popular manifestation. Thus Newman was able to both acknowledge that there was corruption in the Church as well as assert that this cannot be attributed to the official teaching of the Church. The role of the theologian is to attempt to regulate the teaching of the Church, although he was also sensitive to popular devotion and felt theology needed to let this seep through so that it may not become cold and rigid. Newman even went so far as to express his doubts that, were any nation to completely do away with superstition, faith could still be said to exist there.
This brings us to the issue of the role of the Laity – something that brought about suspicions of his orthodoxy. Newman’s experiences as Rector of the Catholic University of Ireland (1851-1858) made him aware of the little regard with which the hierarchy regarded the laity. Newman wrote an article in the liberal Catholic publication ‘The Rambler’ (of which he had been made editor – a ‘compromise’ choice, it was hoped he would reign in the more radical aspects of the paper whilst still contributing to the task of creating an educated laity) entitled “On Consulting the Faithful in Matters of Doctrine”. In this work he argued that the Church ‘consults’ the laity (in the sense of inquiring into a matter of fact, not of asking its opinion) before defining a doctrine. The ‘consensus fidelium’ was an indicator of the faith of the Church. Newman had first explored this idea in his work ‘The Arians of the Fourth Century’ in which he argued that it had been the laity, not the Bishops, who had upheld orthodoxy. Newman argued that the Church had to take into account the faithful and that this was necessary for its well-being. This did not go down well with members of the Roman curia nor with Catholics closer to home such as Cardinal Manning. It was considered that Newman was endangering the notion of authority and his statement that "there was a temporary suspense of the functions of the Ecclesia docens" in the fourth century appeared to many that Newman was calling into question the infallibility of the Church’s magisterium by claiming that it had failed over the Arian controversy. Monsignor Talbot in Rome interpreted Newman’s invocation of the “consensus fidelium” as meaning a consensus of the faithful in opposition to the clergy. As Ian Ker points out, Newman’s terminology – his use of the word consult – was certainly the cause of much confusion. These arguments, however, do not stand up when one considers Newman’s respect for authority (more will be said on this in due course). What they reflected was an inflated view of the hierarchy which was seen as the ‘real’ Church whilst the laity were simply ‘passengers’. Vatican II’s decree on the dogmatic constitution of the Church, ‘Lumen Gentium’, vindicates Newman’s approach by seeing the Church as ‘The People of God’, that is both clergy and laity whose role was given much greater emphasis than in the past. On this, as with many things, Newman can be seen to have been ahead of his time.
Nevertheless, it must be said that on this issue one can see why many would have had qualms. For example, today many Catholics (mistakenly) appeal to this notion in defense of their dissenting views against the magisterium. If the Church were to consult the faithful on matters of doctrine today, she may be given a rather odd, if not downright heretical, view. This, of course, is to look on one aspect of Newman’s ecclesiology to the neglect of others such as the authority of the Church. As already noted, Newman felt all needed to co-exist in a creative tension for the Church to function correctly. Also Newman’s conception of the ‘faithful’ was one which tried to reflect the earlier Church’s conception – that of all faithful, baptized Christians – before a stark division had been made between clergy and laity.
It is said to reflect that these suspicions on his orthodoxy had such an effect that Newman ceased to publish until spurred into action by Charles Kingsley’s attack on him which gave rise to Newman’s classic ‘Apologia pro vita sua’. With this work Newman endeared himself once again to English Catholics. When one considers Newman’s views on authority, however, it is difficult to understand how one could have doubted his orthodoxy. He was, to be sure, no ‘ultramontane’ such as Cardinal Manning, yet neither could he be seen as a liberal Catholic who despised tradition. This can be seen in his rejection of the principle of private judgment and his emphasis on the need for an authoritative protection of the “deposit of faith”. Thus he was a defender of infallibility and was particularly pleased with the decree when it eventually came out for it was fairly restrained. He championed the rights of conscience but this had a role in the practical sphere in which infallible judgements could not be pronounced. Conscience could not simply go against authority without due consideration and the need for an informed conscience.
As against theologians who would make martyrs of their being silenced (a la Hans Kung), he asserted that even when in a particular case the hierarchical Church may be wrong there is a need for the theologian to abide by the decision out of the “obedience of faith” even though he may hope that in time his opinion may be vindicated: one can see this sort of attitude in such theologians as Yves Congar and Henri de Lubac - their insights ultimately being taken up into the purview of the Church. That said, he did desire greater discussion amongst theologians that an opinion may either be vindicated or eventually condemned and looked to the Middle Ages as an ideal when the Church ‘let things go’ for a period of time until it finally made a decision. But submission to authority was not something which Newman wished to downplay, even when it may be unjust, for challenging it only does greater damage to the Church as a whole.
Newman’s ecclesiological views did not warrant the suspicions with which certain members of the Church looked upon them. He was ahead of his time and his influence can be seen in Vatican II documents. His being chosen as a Cardinal is also a vindication of his orthodoxy even in his own time.
Friday, September 14, 2007
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.
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.
Monday, September 10, 2007
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.”
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.”
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Newman on Conscience (3)
Given what I posted earlier, it might appear as if Newman considers it acceptable to dissent from the Pope’s teaching provided it is not an infallible statement and he has often been recruited as an advocate for such a position. But Newman will have nothing to do with such an attitude and whilst he certainly maintains that conscience must be obeyed under all circumstances, disagreement with the Pope must follow from serious thought, prayer and a serious ‘examination of conscience’ to ensure one is really doing right by one’s conscience.
This is a serious issue because Newman saw that in his day and age (and the same can be said of ours) there was something else acting under the name of conscience, a “counterfeit” which was really only the claims of a Nietszchean will-to-power, the assertions of self-will. Newman rejects any secular liberal conception of conscience which has no reference to God. Strictly speaking, for Newman, conscience and authority could not really come into collision over matters of belief. So the precedence accorded to conscience does not entail a precedence in the matter of collision contra what modern-day dissenters would assert. Newman’s idea of conscience is not synonymous with so-called ‘liberty of conscience’ which has, as Newman says, “has become a license to take up any or no religion…the right of self-will.” Nevertheless Newman’s work on conscience can be seen to have had an effect on the Church’s teaching. If he really is the ‘father’ of Vatican II, then his influence can be seen in such documents as ‘Dignitatis Humanae’ which asserts the right of freedom to worship according to one’s conscience. Newman’s assertion that conscience is the surest way to knowledge of God’s presence (as opposed to a mere assent to certain doctrinal propositions) would appear to be a more credible articulation of how an individual comes to know God, as opposed to any strictly 'rationalist argumentation that may be employed. Most people simply do not come to believe in God in such a manner. Most people, however, can be said to acknowledge a moral law, and certainly if they do not consider this to be a matter of mere subjective preference then surely they must ask from where this Law is derived. Newman wanted faith to be an affair of the whole person, something that would truly change one’s life. Thus he attempted to link doctrine to the moral sense in order to make it something existentially significant to the individual. This must not be presented as Bremond does, as if Newman advocated bracketing one’s faith before investigating a doctrine to see if it was enriching of the moral life. This would be to abandon the “obedience of faith”. (S.A. Graves) Nevertheless, Newman did feel that conscience gave a sort of affirmation of the truth of doctrine in that it bore real “fruits”.
This is a serious issue because Newman saw that in his day and age (and the same can be said of ours) there was something else acting under the name of conscience, a “counterfeit” which was really only the claims of a Nietszchean will-to-power, the assertions of self-will. Newman rejects any secular liberal conception of conscience which has no reference to God. Strictly speaking, for Newman, conscience and authority could not really come into collision over matters of belief. So the precedence accorded to conscience does not entail a precedence in the matter of collision contra what modern-day dissenters would assert. Newman’s idea of conscience is not synonymous with so-called ‘liberty of conscience’ which has, as Newman says, “has become a license to take up any or no religion…the right of self-will.” Nevertheless Newman’s work on conscience can be seen to have had an effect on the Church’s teaching. If he really is the ‘father’ of Vatican II, then his influence can be seen in such documents as ‘Dignitatis Humanae’ which asserts the right of freedom to worship according to one’s conscience. Newman’s assertion that conscience is the surest way to knowledge of God’s presence (as opposed to a mere assent to certain doctrinal propositions) would appear to be a more credible articulation of how an individual comes to know God, as opposed to any strictly 'rationalist argumentation that may be employed. Most people simply do not come to believe in God in such a manner. Most people, however, can be said to acknowledge a moral law, and certainly if they do not consider this to be a matter of mere subjective preference then surely they must ask from where this Law is derived. Newman wanted faith to be an affair of the whole person, something that would truly change one’s life. Thus he attempted to link doctrine to the moral sense in order to make it something existentially significant to the individual. This must not be presented as Bremond does, as if Newman advocated bracketing one’s faith before investigating a doctrine to see if it was enriching of the moral life. This would be to abandon the “obedience of faith”. (S.A. Graves) Nevertheless, Newman did feel that conscience gave a sort of affirmation of the truth of doctrine in that it bore real “fruits”.
Friday, August 24, 2007
Newman on Conscience (part 2)
Newman's conversion to the Catholic Church necessitated his defence of the doctrine of Papal Infallibility when it came against the attacks of erstwhile critics such as the great statesman and Prime Minister W.E. Gladstone. Newman was keen at all points to stress that the doctrine did not impinge on the rights of conscience and he was as eager to counter the criticisms of Anglicans as he was the 'ultramontanism' of fellow Catholics such as Cardinal Manning.
The promulgation of the doctrine of papal infallibility at the First Vatican Council (1870) and William Gladstone’s attack on it in 1874 gave increased impetus to the need to reconcile conscience with authority.Gladstone ’s attacks claimed that the Vatican decrees had completely bound the conscience of every Catholic to the Pope and placed it under his disposal. He brought up the sensitive issue of whether Catholics could really be considered loyal British citizens since they were bound to the decrees of a foreign leader. Newman gave his reply in “A Letter to the Duke of Norfolk” (1875). Newman, who had no problem with the declaration itself but had felt it to be an inopportune moment to declare it, was keen to make clear just what it meant, in order to counter any accusations that it led to a “degrading bondage” as he himself put it in his Apologia. He therefore pointed out that it did not mean that the Pope had general authority over Catholics in all things whatsoever (though some Catholics such as the aforementioned Cardinal Manning seemed to have hoped that this would have been the case) but only spoke infallibly on matters of faith and morals. Science, for example, was outside his jurisdiction to speak infallibly on. Newman then tried to set out ‘the rights of conscience’.
The promulgation of the doctrine of papal infallibility at the First Vatican Council (1870) and William Gladstone’s attack on it in 1874 gave increased impetus to the need to reconcile conscience with authority.
Newman's attempts to allay the sorts of fears which surrounded the promulgation of the doctrine are, I think, important from an ecumenical point of view, in particular as regards the 'High Anglican' tradition which Newman himself came from.
Newman on Conscience (part 1)
I haven't posted anything for a while as I was on holiday. Anyway, here is a post on Newman's attitude towards conscience and its 'freedom'.
The role conscience played in religious life for Newman can hardly be understated. In fact, Henri Bremond goes so far as to say that “for him…the whole religious edifice rests on the conscience.” Newman certainly spoke in very high terms about conscience, calling it “the aboriginal vicar of Christ”. It is an essential constituent of the religious life because it affords the individual an immediate certainty of God’s presence in the world – for Newman, to listen to the voice of conscience is to listen to the Living God Himself.
This ‘immediate presence’ is not to be understood as anything extraordinary or ‘mystical’ in the rigorous sense of the word – it is perfectly ‘ordinary’ and can be experienced by all human beings. It is therefore not surprising that Newman thought that the greatest proof of God’s existence is the ‘moral proof’, that is to say, conscience itself. As he himself states: “[The] Law as apprehended in the minds of individual men, is called conscience.” In looking inwardly one finds one’s conscience – a knowledge of good and evil, and this leads to an understanding of sin; which is to disobey this moral law inscribed in our hearts. The Law is known to be an ultimate law and cannot be reduced to a mere socially constructed law. From disobedience of the Law come feelings of guilt and this leads to the question of from whence this Law comes. The feelings of guilt will also necessarily lead to a search for salvation and this prepares the individual for the acceptance of Christianity. One recalls here Kierkegaard’s statement to the effect that the only way to Christianity is through an agonized conscience. Newman would have agreed.He even goes so far as to say that, were it not for conscience, he would be an atheist, a pantheist or a polytheist for he sees no reflection of the Creator in this “busy little world.”
It is interesting to note the contrast between Newman's view and that of contemporary 'Intelligent design' proponents. Newman states flat out that "I believe in design because I believe in God; not in God because I see design". Perhaps all 'ID' theorists should bear in mind that "The Almighty is something infinitely different from a principle, or a centre of action, or a quality, or a generalisation of phenomena".
More to come tomorrow (hopefully). Once again, comments are always welcome.
I've taken lots of the quotes from a useful article in New Blackfriars, vol. 88, 'Newman on the Argument from Design' by Noel Keith Roberts)
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