Philosophy 4: Faith and Reason

In the previous writing, we looked at the relationship between greater and lesser things. I gave a few examples of the types of distortions that can occur when lesser things are elevated over the weightier matters. I showed that this often occurs when one takes a perfectly good word, like pragmatic, and attaches an “-ism” as a suffix, making it the central purpose for everything else, foundational, or the “greatest thing.” Then we then went on to look at how logic flows from the appropriate order and relationship of things, arranging them in categories or classes. We looked at the three most basic laws of proper inference (logic), showing that they cannot be refuted, and why that is so.

To refresh the reader’s memory, here are the three most basic laws again:

1) The Law of Identity: a thing is what it is; and is not what it is not. (A=A)
2) The Law of Noncontradiction: something cannot be both true and false at the same time and in the same relationship. (A≠~A)
3) The Law of Excluded Middle: A thing either is or it is not. (A v ~A)

Essentially, these are three ways of looking at the same thing. All of them are saying that a thing is itself, and not not itself.

Logic judges statements, or propositions. The terms “married bachelor” and “square circle” are statements. They are proposing that two mutually exclusive categories or classes belong together, when they cannot. Therefore, the two statements are a meaningless combination words. Likewise, a sentence contains a subject and a predicate. When the subject is negated by its predicate, the terms do not cohere, meaning, they cannot go together. So if I write, “This apple is not an apple,” the same laws apply to the statement and I've contradicted myself.

But what if the so-called “apple” was mistakenly called apple? In such a case, we are dealing with a different state of affairs. Such expressions like, “This “apple” is not an apple after all,” are not violating the laws of proper inference, but affirming them. The sentence is affirming that the object mistakenly called an “apple,” did not belong to the class of apples after all, since it is not an apple. Logic studies the coherency of proposed states of affairs, the relationships of classes of things, signified by the words or symbols which represent them. It deals with systems of truth-claims. It doesn’t deny the use of poetic expressions or non-literal speech. The point is that apples that are not apples do not exist. They are non-things—nothing. There is nothing behind the words. They are nonsense, meaningless states of affairs, empty words. The philosopher is after the reality behind the words, not semantics.

What we're driving at here is that logical coherence precedes actuality.  The scientist, for example, doesn’t need to scour the universe looking for evidence of square circles or married bachelors because these are false, analytically. They are false by definition. What we are doing here is formal thinking. A thing must be possible before it can be actual. In other words, logic precedes evidence. Logic is the greater thing. Philosophy exists prior to the evidential. Whether the evidence is based on experience, empirical data, sensory perception, or anything else, it must be possible before it can be actual.

The basic building blocks of logic apply not only to a couple of words or a sentence, but to entire arguments as well, and from entire arguments to an entire thesis, and, once again, from an entire thesis to an entire worldview. Logic mirrors the order behind the entire universe (Rom 1:20). It judges our statements, our sentences. A meaningful sentence consists of a subject and a predicate, something the subject of the sentence is predicated of—being and essence.

Logic precedes creation. It is prior to nature, the physical things. When I say this, I am not talking about the symbols and expressions which man formulates to express it, but to the reality behind the symbols and the language. I am saying that truth is an invisible, spiritual, real object that creates, designs, and unifies all things according to classifications, structure, and order. A created thing, an earthly, physical thing, for example, HAS being. However, truth IS being. God is self-existent; creation is utterly and irrefutably dependent on His being. This is the metaphysical relationship between Creator and creation we are looking at. It is monotheism. Christians affirm this metaphysically, but deny it epistemologically.

They do this by pitting faith against reason. Fide vs Logos

What they do is affirm this as a metaphysical truth, but say that we cannot know it by “human reasoning.” What this does is separate epistemology from metaphysics as though they were two, separate realties. They try to overcome this divide by redefining the term “faith” (“pistis” in the Greek) as though it were an entirely blind leap into the dark. This strips the Christian of his intellectual faculties, which God commands us to use, and reduces faith to a private experience inaccessible to the mind. So in faith, we can have square circles writ large, because that’s “man’s way of knowing.” As the fideist will tell us, with God ALL THINGS ARE POSSIBLE. This anti-systematic system of thought is called “Fideism,” from the Latin word “fide” or “faith.”

“I believe it because it is absurd” is a statement often attributed to the church father, Tertullian. Whether he said it, I don't know and don't care. But it is essentially what Fideism is saying. So as a matter of course, I claim that God is an ant named Willie who the lives under my front porch. He lies to me all the time. It is because of this type of non-reasoning that atheists have created a mock-deity called the “Flying Spaghetti Monster,” and refer to themselves as “Pastafarians.” Speaking gibberish and using empty words as though embracing absurdity was wise is not truth-telling, but speaking falsehoods.

 It is true that God can accomplish “all things,” but those things are just that—things! They are things with a nature that actually exist, states of affairs that really are possible. Things are not non-things. God cannot create square circles any more than He can lie or cease being what He is. He is the ultimate thing and cannot be anything other. If he could, then He couldn’t be God! There would be nothing. So, epistemology (“pistis”+”ology”) is the study of how we can know that what we believe is true. It studies the nature of faith in a coherent, systematic way. To believe something is also to claim it as a metaphysic—a real and true state of affairs.

Metaphysics and epistemology cannot be divided into two, separate and opposing realities, no matter how much we may dislike the word “systems.” God loves “systems.” He wants us to notice them, to notice what He says about Himself through their mind-boggling intricacies, and their beauty. He did not give us minds just so that we can see these things, and loathe them. God is well-pleased with His creations. He gave us minds so that we cannot wait to look at the things He has made, how He organized them, created complex and intricate systems, by His speech. So that by studying these things, we may hear Him, and behold His glory through the things He has made. So let us return to the question of faith, to see how it coheres with reason.

Although we do not normally think of faith this way, consider this: When I sit in my chair at the dinner table, I do so trusting the integrity of the chair. Will it support me? Will it break? Will I get injured? Normally, I just take for granted the chair’s structural integrity and plop right down on it, with barely a thought. However, if I noticed something about the chair that caused me distrust its ability to hold me up, I am not likely to sit on it. My decision would be based on the evidence perceived through my senses. It is a matter of practical wisdom that I do not sit in the chair and risk injuring myself. But what, according to our own metaphysic, has more integrity? Is it the chair that I take for granted everyday or God? If it is God, then why does the Christian claim faith as a “great leap,” while taking the structural integrity of almost every chair he sits in for granted? Doesn’t trusting the chair require a greater leap of faith?

Sin is unfaithfulness to God. It is irrational.

We define “faith in God” as a “great leap” because of our sinfulness. We have contradictions in our faith, every single one of us. The Christian is a sinner, a saint, and a skeptic all at the same time. However, what makes matters worse is that our current definition of faith is not from the Bible, but from secular humanists that have no faith. To them, faith in God very much seems to be an irrational leap in the dark. According to Webster's Dictionary faith is "an unquestioning belief that does not require proof or evidence." The authors of this dictionary must have been listening to fideists. However, our concern is what does the word of God mean by the term “faith?”

“Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. For by it the people of old received their commendation. By faith we understand that the universe was created by the word of God, so that what is seen was not made out of things that are visible.” (Hebrews 11:1–3, ESV)

The translation of the first sentence is slightly unfortunate, but notice that the Scriptures draw together the first and the third sentences into a coherent unity, epistemology and metaphysics into one reality. To put a finer point on it, let’s look at how other English versions translate the first sentence, then I'll provide a very literal translation of that verse.

“Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.” (NIV84)

“Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” (NKJV)

"Now faith is the reality of things being hoped for, the proof of things not being seen." (a literal translation)

The first word in question is “hypostasis.” For those of you that are more theologically informed, you might recognize this word from the theological term “hypostatic union,” which refers to the two natures of Christ existing within one person—“the God-man.” The word literally means “substance,” “nature,” or “essence.” And it also means “trust,” “confidence,” and “certainty.” What is being claimed here is that essence of something is causing the believer to trust in that something. What are those “things” that causes the trust? They are invisible things, things not seen.

The writer of Hebrews is talking about things that are not physical, that are not material, earthly things. It is referring to spiritual things, things that we cannot see with the naked eye or detect by our five senses. What most Christians mean by “not seeing” nowadays, are things they say cannot be known, meaning, spiritual things. They mean they cannot be “seen” with the mind’s eye. But that’s not what the Bible says because the other word, “elenchos,” means “evidence” and “proof,” which can only be considered by the mind, but not with physical sight. Indeed, the verbal form of this word, “elencho,” means “to rebuke” or “to refute” using rational arguments.

Part of our hesitancy about logic, and about philosophy in general, is due to Rationalism. In this worldview, existence is reduced to what I can conceive of in my head. It is that kind of thinking that says, “Well, I've never seen it, so it must not exist.” “If I cannot wrap my head around it, surely it is bogus.” Being a rational person is a good thing. We were created to be rational. Rationalism, on the other hand, is not good because reality is much bigger than what we can comprehend. This is one of the crucial differences between Rationalism and Realism. In Realism, reality is much larger than what I can grasp in my mind. It is the mind that is informed by what is real, actual, and objective, not the other way around.  I can know real things about real things because those things really are there, and the ordering of them is actually there too.

It is not us reaching all the way up to God, but God condescending to reveal Himself to us, informing our minds. Our knowledge of all things depends upon revelation, God revealing them to us. So faith is not a leap of anything, but resting on something certain. Faith is not doubt, but quite the opposite. It doesn’t mean, “Well, I'm not too sure about God, but I'll take my chances.” That’s gullibility, credulity, and foolishness.  That is the skeptic and the sinner talking in us. The answer is to seek the truth about the matter, to seek after His knowledge and His wisdom because those are what produce faith.

Although men cannot “grasp” or “comprehend” everything that exists (like God, for example), this is not to say that men cannot understand or know. What men cannot have is a comprehensive knowledge, having knowledge about all things. That would make him omniscient, “all-knowing.” Only God can be all-knowing. However, people do not have to know all things in order to know some things. I only mention this because there are some who claim that in order to know anything, one must know everything. My rebuke to them is: Really? How do you know? The mud does not need to see the inside and the outside of the shoe to receive the imprint of its sole. Likewise, my mind does not need to possess infinite or exhaustive knowledge in order for God’s speech to be known by it.

We live according to what we believe. The question is whether or not what we are believing is real. Is it really knowledge? Or is it the mind viciously turning away from the piercing light of truth and reason, falling into the irrationality and the madness of darkness, seeking the alluring comfort of empty words?