Reason, Faith Consequences
Feb. 25th, 2004 07:49 amThis is what I posted on the electronic bulletin board for my Swedenborgian exegesis class this morning. The issue for the week is Epistemology and Biblical Studies. One of Swedenborg's famous dictums is 'Nunc licet' -- short for "Now it is permitted to enter with reason into the mysteries of faith." My suggestion below is that even in a denomination which prizes reason and intellectual inquiry, there is always an inherent tension when doing free-thinking within a faith community.
“[When] it is no longer the reasoning which determines what the conclusion shall be, but . . . the conclusion which determines what the reasoning shall be . . . this is sham reasoning.”
It occurred to me this morning that this sentence highlights an inevitable tension in seminary work – especially when the person who inspired the denomination appeals again and again to reason as he builds his theology.
What happens if a student in the Swedenborgian House of Studies reaches a point where s/he says, “No, I don’t agree with his line of reasoning here? My own reason tells me that B does not follow from A” or perhaps “No, the assumption you begin with, ES, is not ‘clearly evident’ to me”?
This isn’t just an issue in seminary, of course. Each discipline works within a framework of epistemological assumptions (conclusions reached previously by the experts and now taken as givens by those who follow), and a student who challenges those, either from being misguided, mistaken, or mind-bogglingly brilliant, risks becoming a failure in the academy if she does not re-think her position and bring it into accord with the standards.
This isn’t necessarily bad. There are givens upon which disciplines depend, most of which would require genius to re-formulate.
But to get back to my original point: if a theological student applies her own reasoning to the Writings, or to exegesis, but comes up with answers that do not fit the “conclusions” already arrived-at by the theologians who preceded her – or ES himself – what conclusion is drawn from her dissent? Is she well-intentioned, but a victim of faulty reasoning? Are her love and faith not deep enough to gift her with the insight into spiritual truth? These may indeed be true. But what does it do to the intellectual approach of a seminarian to recognize that these are perhaps the judgments that will be leveled – not just on her work, but on her own faith, her own relationship to the Divine, if she does not reach the conclusions that are expected?
To be clear: I am not aware of that judgment being leveled against anyone in any of my classes here – but I do remember being young and being afraid to voice certain questions because I believed that to even ask the questions would put me beyond the pale in my church. Swedenborg was a questioner, a scientist, someone who changed the paradigm for many of us when it comes to our approach to faith. He is now himself a paradigm (paradigmatic?). If he was not, we would not be now studying in a school that bears his name.
What is the relationship between Swedenborg's conclusions and our own reasoning? When we apply our own reason and faith, are we reasoning toward his conclusions, or our own? What are the stakes – intellectually, emotionally, vocationally, and in relationship to our faith community – if we find ourselves in dissent? And how does this impact how we study and "do" theology?
“[When] it is no longer the reasoning which determines what the conclusion shall be, but . . . the conclusion which determines what the reasoning shall be . . . this is sham reasoning.”
It occurred to me this morning that this sentence highlights an inevitable tension in seminary work – especially when the person who inspired the denomination appeals again and again to reason as he builds his theology.
What happens if a student in the Swedenborgian House of Studies reaches a point where s/he says, “No, I don’t agree with his line of reasoning here? My own reason tells me that B does not follow from A” or perhaps “No, the assumption you begin with, ES, is not ‘clearly evident’ to me”?
This isn’t just an issue in seminary, of course. Each discipline works within a framework of epistemological assumptions (conclusions reached previously by the experts and now taken as givens by those who follow), and a student who challenges those, either from being misguided, mistaken, or mind-bogglingly brilliant, risks becoming a failure in the academy if she does not re-think her position and bring it into accord with the standards.
This isn’t necessarily bad. There are givens upon which disciplines depend, most of which would require genius to re-formulate.
But to get back to my original point: if a theological student applies her own reasoning to the Writings, or to exegesis, but comes up with answers that do not fit the “conclusions” already arrived-at by the theologians who preceded her – or ES himself – what conclusion is drawn from her dissent? Is she well-intentioned, but a victim of faulty reasoning? Are her love and faith not deep enough to gift her with the insight into spiritual truth? These may indeed be true. But what does it do to the intellectual approach of a seminarian to recognize that these are perhaps the judgments that will be leveled – not just on her work, but on her own faith, her own relationship to the Divine, if she does not reach the conclusions that are expected?
To be clear: I am not aware of that judgment being leveled against anyone in any of my classes here – but I do remember being young and being afraid to voice certain questions because I believed that to even ask the questions would put me beyond the pale in my church. Swedenborg was a questioner, a scientist, someone who changed the paradigm for many of us when it comes to our approach to faith. He is now himself a paradigm (paradigmatic?). If he was not, we would not be now studying in a school that bears his name.
What is the relationship between Swedenborg's conclusions and our own reasoning? When we apply our own reason and faith, are we reasoning toward his conclusions, or our own? What are the stakes – intellectually, emotionally, vocationally, and in relationship to our faith community – if we find ourselves in dissent? And how does this impact how we study and "do" theology?