Saturday, October 23, 2021

Inspecting the Foundations of the Cosmos

We ended the previous post with something about a proposal to examine the foundations of our cosmic house, in order to better understand why the superstructure of Western Civilization is sliding off of it. What's going on? Is the problem termites? Mold? Bad plumbing? Holes in the roof? 

Did we build on sand, in which case the best foundation in the world won't help?  

And who is qualified to conduct the inspection? To do a proper job of it, one will first have to do a geological survey, venture down into the basement, climb up into the attic, etc., when most inspectors take only a superficial glance at the house itself, and assume their metaphysical assumptions are true enough to hold it up.  

They say our house is built on an alloy of Greek, Jewish, and Christian materials, which is true as far as it goes. But prior to this it's made of human nature, aspects of which are constrained by DNA (genetics being a necessary but not sufficient condition of humanness). 

Along these lines, I recently read a book by the theologian Larry Chapp called The God of Covenant and Creation: Scientific Naturalism and its Challenge to the Christian Faith. The first half is a little dry, but it picks up the pace in the second half, as indicated by the many times I have written YES in the margins.  

Let's review these enthusiastic YESes and try to make out the contours of the hyperdimensional object which evoked them.

A number of my YESes pertain to the so-called immutability of God. Now, this immutability has an undeniable appeal if we're going to build a civilization on top of it. Put conversely, how can one build on a process, a wave, a cloud of energy, a changeable opinion, man? 

However, as we know, anything we say about God -- or can say about God -- is strictly analogical. Thus, for example, we can say God is "good," when in actuality he is the ground of goodness itself; in other words, it's not a "trait," but rather, the substance.

But Chapp (via Balthasar) makes the subtle point -- and how stupid of me to not have thought of it! -- that we must also consider God's immutability in the same analogical way:

Why is it, asks Balthasar, that we rarely see warnings about the analogical nature of all language about God when we speak of God's immutability or self-possession as an Absolute Subject? 

In short, God is "immutable," so long as this is understood analogically. Pushed too far and taken too literally, God becomes as intelligent, living, and relatable as a rock

It is at this point that the YESes begin flying. For example, Chapp quotes one of our favorite celestial inspectors, Norris Clarke, who writes that

Given an infinitely good and loving personal being, it seems to me one can say it is inevitable that it will pour over in some way to share its goodness outside itself, though one cannot predict just how. 

This inevitability, or necessity if you will, is not an external compulsion or blind metaphysical force, but the very logic, the special logic of a loving nature, that will spontaneously pour over to share its goodness in some way... uncompelled by anything but love, yet inevitable, out of character for it not to happen.

Yes. That's exactly what I see. In the ultimate ground of being, "freedom and necessity come together in a transcendent synthesis, proper only to the nature of love" (ibid.). 

Except to say it can't literally be a synthesis, because this implies two separate strands that are united a posteriori, when they are really complementary aspects of their anterior unity, like justice/mercy, time/eternity, Father/Son, etc.

Much more to say, but we promised shorter posts and we're sticking to it.  

5 comments:

julie said...

And who is qualified to conduct the inspection? To do a proper job of it, one will first have to do a geological survey, venture down into the basement, climb up into the attic, etc., when most inspectors take only a superficial glance at the house itself, and assume their metaphysical assumptions are true enough to hold it up.

Tangentially, I know a guy who is a home inspector. He was actually asked recently to do an inspection by video call; being an honest man who takes pride in his work, of course he told them to pound sand, but apparently this is where we are now. Not even a superficial glance. Should be fine.

julie said...

In short, God is "immutable," so long as this is understood analogically. Pushed too far and taken too literally, God becomes as intelligent, living, and relatable as a rock.

Pretty funny when you think about it; nobody ever thinks for even a second that when Jesus named Peter his rock, he meant it literally. Why then should we think such a thing about God Himself?

Anonymous said...

Hello all. I enjoyed this cheerful post, which takes care to point out the good and kind nature of God.

To discharge my responsibilities as a critic, I note a passage from the Chapp which was presented:

"Given an infinitely good and loving personal being, it seems to me one can say it is inevitable that it will pour over in some way to share its goodness outside itself, though one cannot predict just how."

We can share love outside of ourselves freely and many say this is their chief reason for being.

Inevitably, God pours over to share its goodness outside itself. But what is outside of itself? Some kind of slag pile of leftover cosmic construction materials?

God treats us as autonomous beings, but we have to wonder if God has fooled itself. It knows we are it.

In a forlorn way God is like a kid playing toy soldiers. There's the Colonel, there's the one with the flame-thrower, there's the one with the mine detector, there's the one with the radio set. The kid adjusts his voice when representing each soldiers character. "Watch out Colonel, intones the kid as the radio operator. Enemy detected."

Behind the fantasy play the kid knows he is the voice of all soldiers.

So is God lonely? Lonely enough for some really involved role-play?

ted said...

In short, God is "immutable," so long as this is understood analogically. Pushed too far and taken too literally, God becomes as intelligent, living, and relatable as a rock.

Good point made here. Only proving once again the literal thinker is not a deep thinker.

Anonymous said...

The post questions "...why the superstructure of Western Civilization is sliding off of..." the foundation.

If the superstructure is sliding, the vector would be upwards. Upon cracking the future history-books we see this period was seen as the basis upon which the the full out-flowering of Western Civilization was realized between 2060-4020.

We of the early information age are the absolute darlings and heroes of the technology based cultures which followed.

The former Silicon Valley technology cradle is practically a shrine even if much of it is underwater.

Space, the final frontier, Gagdad. To us birthed in the mid 20th Century, it was a novelty, each rocket a risky stunt. We focused on the convulsions going on upon the Earth. We lived the Cold War and nothing seems good. Our cadre has collective PTSD and we are not a happy group.

Now the youngsters don't carry this freight and they like, no, they LOVE, their devices. They will hop a rocket to an extra- planetary destination in a heartbeat; to their cadre this seems normal, doable, and if fact inevitable. And so it came to be so.

We of the second half of the 20th century are credited with staggering feats of engineering acumen (each and every one of us a pioneer) and in particular computing is credited to Western Culture, where credit is due. Ground zero was said to be the work of Turing in England.

So, for a millenium to come, Western Civilization was how things were done. All of browns have came on board. Everyone rode this train.

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