Certainty

Dr. John Mark Reynolds, a professor of philosophy at Biola University, writes a post in his blog entitled, "The Three Essentials for Education: Part Two--Right Questions." It is a very thought provoking post. If I understand it properly, I don't entirely agree with it (though he certainly has the upper hand in terms of erudition). He says:



. . . my own experience suggests that having the right questions is more important than having the right answers. My answers must always be tentative. I try to have faith seeking understanding and not understanding seeking faith.



I think that last statement is an excellent paradigm for a philosophy of education. If I understand Kierkegaard properly, in his book, "Fear and Trembling," he posits the idea that all our knowledge begins with faith, rather than ending in it, as the Hegelians say. We all start with a presupposition, whether we realize it or not. To say we begin with pure knowledge is pure fancy. Everyone has a philosophical starting point. Identifying that point will help us.

He continues:



Dogma, if by dogma one means certainty, should have no place in my life. There are things I think are true based on best reason and best experience. They seem good, true, and beautiful. However, I must always acknowledge that I could be wrong. Certainty is not ever present this side of Paradise. I hold all my answers loosely, but keep to my questions passionately.



I cannot accept that statement. I believe we can have certainty. What hope is there in life if there is no certainty? I am not sure that Reynolds is speaking of spiritual certainty here. God gives his children the assurance that they are His, and few Christian deny this. I assume he is speaking of intellectual certainty. There is plenty of knowledge about this universe that is above our understanding. We will never know all there is to know. We even know so little about what we do know. But there is a big difference with not knowing anything, and not knowing everything. What we can know we can know with certainty. I will admit, I fear not being able to be sure about the knowledge I have. But were does a world with a lack of dogma leave us? What is the point of pursuing knowledge if there is no guarantee that that knowledge is "truth"? There is a tremendous philosophical difficulty is establishing epistemology. I have not studied near enough philosophy to be able to relate the different views on it. I will admit that I do not know enough to know that I cannot know anything. I want to have confidence in my knowledge. That is why I test it. I measure it. I am constantly purifying it. That is a completely different from moving from one belief to another.

He says:



This does not make for a lack of zeal or boldness. To the contrary, I have great zeal for the quest for truth. I grow excited by open thought and can enjoy reading blogs and books with ideas contrary to my own. If my ideas are the correct ones, they will be strengthened.



Everyone ought to have zeal. Zeal is a good quality. I attempt to have zeal when I teach, especially if I am teaching a topic as dry as Reconstruction. I fail, though, to see the correlation between zeal and assurance. If I am told that, in a warehouse filled with boxes, one box contains $1 million, I can search with all my energy and enthusiasm. However, that will have no affect on the accuracy of that claim. There may or may not be $1 million. Why would I search if I wasn't convinced I would find?

Futhermore:



The fact that I may be wrong does not mean that I must assume I am. Until sight is better, I must walk in the light I have and uncover darkness boldly. It is easy to be sure where darkness is even when tentative about knowing the final source of light.



If you are walking in light, you must know that you are in the light. Else, how could you know where the darkness is? How can we ever realize we are wrong if we ever realize we are right? Emerson described our knowledge as ever expanding circles. I find this an excellent analogy. We have our sphere of knowledge, that of which we are convinced. Outside this is a fog, a sphere of obscurity that one day can become our sphere of certainty. Our knowledge is ever expanding. Only fools and fanatics fail to expand their knowledge. It also seems foolish to me to deny you ever had the truth.

Yet again:



Some philosophers are guilty of this. We all sometimes act as if everything could be cleared up if put in proper logical order. Some modern philosophy has gone all the way and restricted all truth to science and its handmaiden analytic philosophy. (At least, some claim that this has been done.) This need not be the case. No classical philosophy, such as my own Platonism, has done such a thing. Plato was the consummate writer and poet. He believed in Divine Revelation and in philosophy. Each had its place. It is not philosophy (or science) that is the problem, but people who claim too much for both. You can be analytic without putting the universe into a tiny box.



This is a profound point. Those who claim that the only knowledge is that which their mind can perceive are hopelessly condemned to Plato's cave. God speaks to all His children. He speaks through every medium available. He speaks to each child in a specific manner. And yet He speaks. He gives His knowledge to us, and we can be sure that this is His truth. We can be certain of that which He gives us.

Reynolds finishes:



Truth is not merely propositional, but it contains propositions. Each truth leads to another and also to experience. Propositional truth and experiential truth can never war in a classical philosophy of life. Traditional Christians are neither modern nor post-modern. We are classical, pre-dating and enfolding the best of both. This give hope that a resolution can come between those who love the humanities and those who love science. Both need to hear the wisdom of the other. Both can learn to do so without plunging into non-reason or ugliness. Both can do so by asking human questions and listening. I think I have experienced, a Divine Answer to those questions. This does not end my yearning, but merely spurs me to reason even more with the Divine Logos who under girds the world.



Because we can converse with the "Divine Logos," we can obtain knowledge from Him. And we can be certain. We can be free from ambiguity. We can live unshakled by doubt. We don't have to deny everything, and believe nothing. We can know. Paul had certainty, and he passes it on to us. How many times does he use the word "know" in Romans? John had dogma. We need but to look at his first epistle. If all truth is God's truth, then the certainty John and Paul had about their spiritual life can be ours in this physical universe.

This is my insufficient attempt to debate Dr. Reynolds, and layout my own epistemology. I have spoken. Take it as you will.