to know anything at all is, implicitly, to know that God exists, for it is to accept the reign of the Logos or transcendental intelligibility.
This is one of those Yes/No questions: either you are arguing toward this logoistic principle or from it. In other words, you can begin, as we do, with transcendental intelligibility as an axiomatic truth; or you can track contingent truths up the epistemological mountain to the invigorating air of the logosphere, where all truths converge upon the One Truth from which they have descended. You might say that
Christianity does not deny the splendor of the world but encourages us to seek its origin, to ascend to its pure snow (Dávila).
It's cool but bracing. No one is obligated to live here, just as no one is obligated to live among the tenured apes, the media mob, the credentialed barbarians, all sunk in the urgent nonsense of the day.
Paradoxically, you're never more alone than when you're down among these babbling rabble, and never less alone than when up here by the waters of the crystal clear spring. How does this work, exactly? Well, on the one hand, to put it aphoristically, The most dispiriting solitude is not lacking neighbors, but being deserted by God (Dávila).
But come to find out that the "primordial intelligibility" of the world isn't analogous to just discovering an object or arriving at an abstract mathematical equation. Rather, it turns out -- SURPRISE! -- that it
is a being-with-the-other, or better, a being-in-the-other, a coinherence.... Therefore relationality, being-for-the-other, must be the form that, at the deepest level, conditions whatever is and the truth that satisfies the hunger of the mind (Barron).
Or, to put to put it aphoristically, To be a Christian is to not be alone despite the solitude that surrounds us (Dávila).
Allone in a crowd, twogather in God. For Any shared experience ends in a simulacrum of religion (ibid.).
Indeed, if you closely examine the meaning of this mysterious word -- experience -- you may find the key to the whole existentialada, because "unshared experience" is a contradiction in terms. To put it conversely, at the deepest level of our being, experience is always experience-with; experience is with and with is experience.
Bob, I'm not saying you're full of it -- yet -- but could you say a little more about this?
Well, think about the principle of Incarnation. What does it imply? What does it presuppose, and what does it bring about? For me, it isn't just the most radical idea ever, but literally the most radical idea conceivable, because it is the con-ception of infinitude in the womb of finitude. Barron puts it more plainly (in reference to the prologue of John):
The primordial divine conversation partner becomes a creature in order to draw creation into the embrace of the divine life.... Through the incarnation, the coinherence of the Father and the Logos seeks to provoke a coinherence of creation with God and of creatures with one another.
Reality is a coinherence, and coinherence is an unending conversation; or better, a trialogue at the edge of the subjective horizon where Self and Other meet in a mutually indwelling I AMbrace.
This being the case, a philosophy such as atheistic materialism is still going to be a conversation -- for it cannot not be -- but the person engaging in it is simply talking to himself. Truly, it is a glorified cognitive onanism, which is precisely why they are such infertile eggheads even if they're master debaters.
Let's wrap this up:
any philosophy, science, or worldview that does not see relationality, being-for-the-other, as ontologically fundamental must be false.... what the mind correctly seeks as it goes out to meet the intelligibility of the real is always a form of coinherence (Barron).
Put it this way: when your intelligence goes out to meet the world, the world meets it more than halfway, and is pleased to engage you in nonstop conversation via its own intelligibility.
Indeed, the world never stops blabbering, not just truths about itself, but how about all the beauty? Sometimes we are tempted to say: okay, we get it. Awesome. Numinous. Marvelous. Can I just eat my waffle?
But the same principle applies vertically; and it only applies horizontally because of this. In other words, if you have ears to hear and eyes to see, the experience of revelation (and the nonlocal experience that is revelation) never stops.