I count 37 posts so far. I guess we’re finally winding down to the end of Book II, right?
Right?
Don’t sound so alarmed. Man is the measure of all things, so stop trying to measure what can be written of him. Having said that, “To say that man is the measure of all things is meaningless unless one starts from the idea that God is the measure of man, or that the absolute is the measure of the relative… (Schuon).
We touched on this final measure yesterday with out fifth certitude — that all our cosmic and anthropic clues lead back or up to “a transcendent Foundation to all known reality: cosmic reality, subjective reality, inter-subjective reality, moral reality” (Livi). In short, the Anthropos points to the Theos that in turn points to us — to our theomorphism (Axiom 7). This being the case,
Once man makes of himself a measure, while refusing to be measured in turn, or once he makes definitions while refusing to be defined by what transcends him and gives him all his meaning, all human reference points disappear; cut off from the Divine, the human collapses (Schuon).
So we’re not quite done taking the measure of the Anthropos, although we cannot take his full measure until Book III.
Hartshorne’s Neoclassical Metaphysics
One of the first principles of philosopher Charles Harshorne’s neoclassical metaphysics is what he calls “dipolar theism.” It is so similar to our Axiom 2 — primordial complementarity — that some might accuse me of plagiarism, when I am merely stealing the idea. It affirms that metaphysical concepts “have logical contraries which cannot mean anything in utter isolation from one another,” such that “each concept entails a polar contrast to it” (Viney & Shields). Examples of such cosmotheandric complementarities include Absolute and Infinite, immanence and transcendence, necessity and possibility, time and eternity, subject and object, interiority and exteriority, being and becoming, unity and diversity, and more.
Now, denial of one of these polar twins always lands one in the metaphysical soup: this is “a chief difficulty in previous metaphysical theories that suppress expression of a polar contrast,” or what Hartshorne calls the “fallacy of monopolarity.” Monopolar theories abstract and elevate one side of a complementary pair while throwing shade the other, as in the case of, say, materialism, because what would brother matter be without its sister form? Utter unintelligibility. It is very much like saying there could be an outside with no inside, up with no down, or north with no south, when the two define one another.
With respect to these primordial complementarities, although we always see them together, one must be ontologically prior, for there is always one that can account for the other but not vice versa. Here cosmotheandrism break ranks with Hartshorne, because he makes being a secondary crystallization of becoming. But there must first be something that undergoes change, not just change undergoing more of it. If this latter were the case, then no real knowledge of the Cosmos would be possible, because both knower and known would be in constant flux, and there would be no ground under our… actually, we would have no legs to stand on either.
Go flux yourself!
That would be the ultimate insult, because it would consign us to mere change instead of situating us in the cosmotheandric space between being and becoming — or between Absolute and Infinite, transcendence and immanence, time and eternity, et al.
Again, monopolar theories allow for expression of only one pole of a pair of complementarities, and thereby exclude or at least downgrade half of reality, most fundamentally the reality of Absolute and Infinite, the latter being the principle or ground of potentiality and therefore creativity, novelty, and becoming. O is an eternally dynamic interplay of these two ultimates, such that the Absolute pole is necessary for coherence and substance, while the Infinite pole is required for potentiality, creativity, novelty, and becoming. The Absolute must express its unrestrictedness through its first entailment, which is Infinititude.
This latter domain of possibility can never in principle be closed; or, one could say that it is openness as such (Axiom 3), hence a ground of continuous creativity from top to bottom. For Hartshorne, God is “the non-contingent ground of all contingency,” thus rendering contingency itself metaphysically necessary. In short, even – or especially, rather – in O there is again no alternative to alternatives, the Cosmos itself being one of those creative and contingent realities that might have been otherwise.
The Infinite is the prolongation of the Absolute into immanent creation, which is vertical causation in action. The Absolute (necessity) must generate contingency (novelty and freedom). Is O thereby “restricted” by its creativity? No, because endless creativity is the ultimate expression of its very unrestrictedness.
Exact Science and the Science of the Inexact
Given the ontological necessities of creativity and unrestrictedness, it seems that reality is equally poetic and mathematical — or, as we have suggested above, it has features ordered to the RH and LH, respectively. We want to be every bit as rigorous and precise as the quantitative approach, but is there such a thing as a rigorously qualitative approach? Can there be a true science of the inexact?
Precision obscurity?
This question goes to what we have said about our lives taking place in the tension between immanence at one end and transcendence at the other, both of these being irreducible mysteries. At the immanent end “there is the kind of ‘obscurity from below,’” which “comes from blind matter, for matter, in a sense, is repugnant to intelligibility, which is obtained by abstraction from matter” (Garrigou-Lagrange). Therefore, the precision of physics ends in the obscurity of the sub-existential quantum realm. Of formless -- AKA prime -- matter, our knowledge amounts to nothing, because there’s nothing to know. Rather, abstraction of its form is the means by which we know it in a secondary sense. Prime matter is unspecified “pure potency” with no actuality, which is just this side of nonbeing. It is unintelligible not because it is too complex, but because it is potency without form — the sub-existential basement of reality where there is simply nothing to know.
Here we might deploy the symbol Ø to stand for this lower mystery, complementing the “obscurity from on high” at the the top. Thus, “As the matter from which we abstract the intelligible is (in a way) below the limits of intelligibility, the intimate life of God is above the limits of intelligibility that is naturally accessible to us.”
Thus the intellect is bound by two horizons that shade off into obscurity, darkness, and mystery, but “Let us not confuse the obscurity that dominates the frontiers of intelligibility from on high with that which is beneath them” (ibid.). For at the bottom end is an unintelligible mystery (Ø), while at the top end (O) is an endlessly intelligible one. This latter is obscure to us not because of a lack of intelligibility, but because it is endlessly intelligible, ultimately exceeding the natural capacity of the human intellect.
Having said that, to the extent that the bottom end is intelligible, it can only be a consequence of the top. In other words, we know that matter reveals itself via intelligible form, but matter alone cannot account for these forms. This is another way of saying that all of the material or efficient causality in the world cannot add up to formal causality, which is the basis of intelligibility.
At the same time, we can trace our Cosmos back to the Big Bang, at which point things not only become obscure but pitch black: “prior” to it is nothing knowable by physics, likewise what is beyond the boundaries of the Cosmos. In other words, the Cosmos is expanding, but into what? For physics, this “into” has no meaning whatsoever, because the Cosmos is all there is. “Before” or “beyond” the Cosmos are nonsense terms.
However, they are only nonsense terms in terms of what physics can say. But who says physics is qualified to say what is before or beyond the Cosmos?
Who uses math to analyze a poem?
The point is, a purely immanent world could never even know it was one, for knowledge is both transcendent and immaterial. Even the leap from existence to experience is literally infinite, to say nothing of the release from instinct to freedom and truth.
∞
There exists a kind of false clarity, which is totally clear, for which reason Dávila says that There are types of ignorance that enrich the mind and types of knowledge that impoverish it. In this case, a false clarity can impoverish the mind whereas a true obscurity can enrich it, so long as the thing in question is truly obscure and not just temporarily out of focus.
The same is true of any form of ideological fundamentalism or religious literalism, Around here we just call it ismism to cover all the bases, whether religious or secular.








