Friday, June 12, 2020

Medieval scholars and the worth of a book




Medieval commentators were often unable to consider any idea they found in a book to be incorrect.  Rather than judge sources the medieval scholars tried to harmonize otherwise disparate sources. 1

For a medieval commentator books were few and hand copied.  There were really manuscripts, not books. 

Books were very expensive in the middle ages.  They had to be copied by hand. It was a labor intensive process.  Obviously there was no printing press.

Even after the invention of the first printing press, books were still expensive.  Each page of the book had to be engraved or cold type had to be designed, carved in lead and then cases of cold type fonts created.  Each page was type set, letter by letter using cold type, and each page was pressed page by page.  It was still a very labor intensive process.

With the invention of offset lithography, printing from light sensitized, chemically treated plates on a more modern printing press with drums and ink rollers, books became cheaper.  The worth of a book fell.

In our times books are almost free.  Many books can be bought for a third of the price of a printed copy, if one buys an electronic copy, an .epub or a .mobi or an .acsm file.  Many books can be found for free as one of these file forms or as .pdfs or .djvu files.  Books are almost worthless, literally free.

The explosion of online sources, besides books, means that information is also nearly free.  If you cannot afford your own computer, you can use one in a local public library and store your files on the Cloud.

For instance, the commentary on Plato's Timeaus by Chalcidius, a medieval scholar were, let’s say, imaginative.  He could not conceive of a book, which was worthless or which lied.  It was so hard to come by a book, he felt that he must harmonize any information he found in any book.  Perhaps the idea of propaganda or panegyric had not occurred to him.

We now face two dilemmas.  Either like Chalcidius we strive to harmonize disparate sources, being unable to believe that something is false or is merely propaganda and so end up hopelessly confused or misled.  Or since we face so many choices for sources, we decide only to read sources which agree with our pre-established ideas.  Everyone else is a liar, but my favorite pundit tells the truth.

There should, though, be a third alternative.  We should judge whatever we read by what we already believe, but remain open to reassess and change beliefs which we hold, but which we discover are false.

For many years I have taught this idea to students in my “Foundations for Theology” course.  I draw upon a book by David K. Clark called To know and love God. 2

Clark puts forward an idea taken from Alvin Plantinga, a Reformed Christian philosopher.  Plantinga’s version of Reformed Epistemology says that everyone begins with presuppositions which are unproven and assumed.  Christians have as much right as anyone to hold their presuppositions without having to prove them.  Atheists do the same.

But Clark is not content with Plantinga’s view (nor am I), which would be what philosophers call fideism.  A fideist believes “just because.”  Since Plantinga believes that there can be no certain principles or presuppositions, he believes that he has the right to choose those he likes.

Clark rightly is nervous about this conclusion.  What if what I choose to believe is false?  If I hold those beliefs in such a way as to be unfalsifiable, how could I know whether they were true or false?

Clark opts for what he calls “Soft Foundationalism.” He agrees with Plantinga that we must begin with some presuppositions when we think. We cannot do otherwise.  This in itself is not wrong.  What would be wrong, however, would be not to consider attacks against what we believe.  If we are wrong, we need to be open to seeing that we are wrong and how we are wrong and then to see how to reestablish what we believe on sure grounds. 3

Say that in my Christian theology I assume as true several principles or presuppositions: God is a theistic, creator God, Jesus is the Son of God and the Bible is God’s word.  Clark says that I am permitted to start with these presuppositions.  This is what I know.  My Christian, Evangelical theology is built on these presuppositions.

But what should I do when an atheist denies that God exists?  Clark would say that now comes the time to engage in a kind apologetics.  I must demonstrate or prove that God exists.  This can be done and has been done by many Christian apologists through the ages.  I could draw on Thomas Aquinas’ Five Ways or I could draw on Norman Geisler’s Christian Apologetics book.  In any case what I may not do is simply say, “God exists.  It’s what I believe. We’re done.”  That  would be fideism. 4

When a Muslim tells me that the Qu’ran is God’s word, not the Bible. I must demonstrate why I believe the Bible to be God’s word.  I must demonstrate that the Bible is trustworthy. I could use a bibliographic test to show that it is the most carefully copied of all ancient books and the one with the most manuscript copies.  I can use an external test and show how many times archeology has proven the biblical account to be true.  What I may not do is simply assert again, more loudly and more forcefully: “The Bible is true. I believe it. That settles it.” 5

The mistake here is to think that the intensity of my belief or depth of my commitment to a presupposition or “truth,” makes that presupposition true.  We confuse our trust in a source with whether the thing we trust in is true. The sincerity of intensity of our trust does not make something true.  Jesus is LORD not because we believe it intensely, but because, well, Jesus is LORD! Jesus would not be any less “LORD” if I ceased to believe in him.  The intensity of my belief in this fact doesn’t make it true.  It shows rather that I am committed to that truth which is true apart from me and my commitment.

We have a right to our presuppositions whether theological or literary, political or sociological.  What we don’t have the right to do is simply to rule some source out of court, beyond the bounds of our discussion, because we don’t like it.  We can’t just decide we won’t listen to someone because they are from a different political party or a different religious group.  We must demonstrate the truth of our presuppositions and not retreat into fideism.

We are unlikely to be like Chalcidius and and other medieval scholars. We won't try to harmonize all the sources we have.  There are too many.

Just two days ago a graduating student from our seminary asked me whether I had read all the books on (only) two sets of bookshelves in my office in the seminary.  (I have eight more sets of bookshelves in my office at home, not to forget the couple hundred books on Kindle or iBooks or Adobe Digital Editions or BlueFire Reader or CBD Reader or Nook or Kobo reader or OverDrive or Libby or...) I said, “I have read something from most of them and some of them completely.”

Our struggle now is to know what to read, what to believe.  Overwhelmed with such a huge number of sources we can’t hope to harmonize disparate sources as Chalcidius and other medievals tried.  More likely we tend to stop reading many or most sources and rely only on a few or one source we agree with.

Postmoderns will say there is no truth only interpretation. Chalcidius and Platonic scholars were on the opposite end of the spectrum.  There was only truth (very Platonic) and any book must contain some truth or simply be true. Why else would anyone spend the time to copy it by hand.

I disagree with both views: either that no interpretation is true or that all books are true.  Postmoderns have their own truths: racial equality, equality of the sexes, democracy, etc.  They use skeptical, literary techniques to try to show that there is no objective truth.  They may be right that our current interpretation may be false, but have they really excised the idea of truth? How else do they mean to convince us to agree with their views?

We must hold our presuppositions in one sense both firmly and loosely.  We should not give them up lightly, but we must also be willing to be shown to be wrong.  If I am wrong, then I need to regroup and reground my views.

Falling back on a form of fideism: “My view is right!” is not sufficient.  The only thing such a strategy does is to show that one is either too weak to defend one’s view or to afraid to try.

So, here are two very different ages: Chalcidius and the Platonic medieval scholars with too few sources and our PostPostModern, internet age with too many sources. The problem, however, remains the same: discretion. We must remain committed to our Christian worldview, but we must also consider attacks on our world-views and presuppositions and answer them.

Notes

1. I thought the comment came about medieval scholars being unable to throw a book away and therefore having to harmonize disparate sources from CS Lewis and was about Chalcidius.  Lewis was a scholar of medieval literature.  He wrote a book called the Discarded Image in which he lays out Chalcidius’ interpretation of the Timaeus and his very free commentary.  However, I couldn't find this comment in the Discarded Image. CS Lewis, the Discarded Image. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1964. Perhaps now Lewis is better known to be a Christian apologist.

I am grateful to Marjorie Mead from the Wade Center at Wheaton College for enlisting the help of scholar, Jerry Root, to help me to clarify that it was a comment from Lewis, but it wasn't Chalcidius per se of whom he spoke. I appreciate Jerry's kindness to search and find two sources in Lewis.

Jerry Root wrote in response: “I found the very idea but it is not in connection with Chalcidius per se. If you look at the essay “Imagination and Thought” in Studies in Medieval and Renaissance Literature, you will find the concept that those in the Middle Ages, with limited, and often contradictory sources, sought to reconcile all the sources trusting that the authorities that produced the books spoke truth. Consequently, the medieval scholar’s task—believing that no truth contradicts another—required the craft of reconciling. In the first edition of the book it can be found on pp. 44-45 (or paragraphs 7-9). You will also find some similar ideas in the essay “The Genesis of a Medieval Book” Also in Studies in Medieval and Renaissance Literature, pp. 37-38). So, the concept is: 1. to be found in these references; 2. It is not associated with Chalcidius per se; 3. Lewis, certainly did not endorse the practice. He writes of it as an indicative (what was done for the particular reasons noted) but makes of it no imperative (because it was done, therefore the practice ought to be emulated).”

There is a chapter about Chalcidius in CS Lewis. The Discarded Image. Cambridge: University Press, 1964, 49-60.

2. David K. Clark, To know and love God. Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2003.

3. For another critique of Plantinga’s epistemology see the video series by William Lane Craig Belief in God as Properly Basic - Part I (and more) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5AINrvqr-Is or see his lecture on Religious Epistemology https://www.bethinking.org/truth/religious-epistemology 

4. For Aquinas’ Five ways see Summa Theologica Pt I Article 3 Whether God exists? https://www.newadvent.org/summa/1002.htm or Norman Geisler. Christian apologetics. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 2013 chapter 15 Theism.

5. See Craig Bloomberg’s article “The reliability of the New Testament” https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/essay/reliability-new-testament/ 

Wednesday, June 3, 2020

Virtual Presence

One of Cezanne's paintings of Mount St Victoire

I have finished the lectures on the course “Foundations for Theology” on Saturday May 30th that I had planned to give for the Master of Theology students at Zaporozhye Bible Seminary in Zaporozhye, Ukraine.  I taught two hours M-Th last week (0900-1100 CET) and three hours F & Sat (0900-1200) virtually using Zoom video conferencing.  It was a total of 12 clock hours or 14 class hours (50”).  There were also some days of an extra hour of questions and answers.

The students must read now about 400 pages (a lot of articles and one book).  They must keep a notebook about the various required readings (4 pp. or 1000 words) and write a Response Paper on the one book (of two) that they choose (4 pp. or 1000 words).  They must also write a 6 pp. or 1500 word Research Paper on a topic they have chosen.

At some point in mid to late July or early August they must turn in these assignments and I must grade them.  They will be in type written Russian, which I can read.

I have taught this course three times now at or for ZBS.  (I also just finished teaching it at Tyndale this semester, the second half all online.) The PowerPoints for the lectures, which have been translated from English to Russian, have been improved each time, eliminating mistakes and poor translations of specific theological or philosophical terms.  It is challenging for interpreters and translators to deal with philosophical English.  I’m glad, though, that gradually these PowerPoints are being improved. Perhaps I can teach this course at ZBS one more time before I retire (and maybe once after I “retire”).  My translator this time, Vadim Biriukov, the Dean of Students at ZBS, was excellent.  My former Tyndale students, Nadiya Tykhovod and Alyona Gurskaya Leewestein, as well as a ZBS translator, Nadiya Gnilitskaya, have been a great help through the years at translating the PowerPoints and interpreting for me.

This time as I was working on various things: correcting and revising the syllabus and PowerPoints, I realized that Google Translate has come a long way.  I don’t think I thought of using it in 2012 when I first started to teach at Zaporozhye.  I am able now to drop about 2000 words or so into Google Translate and the translation is passable and easily improved or corrected.

When I was doing my MA and PhD in Leuven, Belgium (1995-2000) I knew a person who became the head of the Royal Translation Institute in Brussels.  She told me that they used “mechanical translators” (programs) to do translation and that they were 60% accurate and saved the human translator hours of work.  I know they used ABBYY Lingvo software at ZBS at one point.  Now Google Translate seems a great option, since it is free and relatively correct.  The disadvantage is that my Russian becomes even more passive.

All in all though the class times were good.  I still have some trouble with using Zoom while showing my PowerPoints. I can’t really see the students and it’s hard to know what they are understanding.  Using the “hand raising” function and the Chat they could ask questions but I had a hard time being slowed down. I work from notes, not a full manuscript.  I have to compose the sentences in my head as I teach from the notes (and this time the PowerPoints were in Russian while I am speaking in English).  When I am interrupted I lose my place and become frustrated.

I can watch people’s faces in the classroom.  I can see their eyes glaze. Then I can stop and rephrase or tell a story to illustrate a point.  Sometimes people ask “irrelevant” questions. Something seems pertinent to them, but they aren’t following my explanations.  It is “free association.”  It’s easier to adjust when we are all in the same room.

Perhaps you remember the Big Bang Theory episode where Sheldon decides that he is safer in bed than among people. So, he creates a “virtual presence,” a motorized “body” with monitor showing his face and allowing him to talk and interact with people.  It’s an irritant to his roommate and friends.  Then in a restaurant he runs into Steve Wozniak, an Apple founder.  He wants a signature, but can’t get it “virtually.” He quickly leaves his bedroom and travels to see Wozniak.  In this instance a virtual presence just wouldn’t do.

I am so happy that I am married and that my wife loves me (despite my irritating habits and foibles).  A “virtual presence” is not sufficient for loving relationships.

We love our students here in the Netherlands at Tyndale and in Zaporozhye at the Zaporozhye Bible Seminary, but virtual presence just doesn’t cut it.  We were created to hug one another.  We were created to hear sine waves for voices not square waves.  We were designed to see colors in a greater range than a monitor can manage, even greater than HD flat screens.

Both Tyndale and Zaporozhye are seminaries.  Here in the Netherlands when someone thinks of a seminary they think of a Roman Catholic training schools for priests.  Protestants in the Netherlands started universities.

However seminary is still the best word.  Seminary means a hot house or a green house.  We are training people in a different sort of environment than a university.  At a university if you don’t show up for class, your grade suffers. This is true also at Tyndale, but when a student doesn’t show up everyone suffers because the discussion is weaker, poorer for fewer people.  

In both seminaries we worship and pray together. We aren’t churches. We don’t have church official leaders.  We are separate, but we are a community in a way that a university class is not.  We are brothers and sisters in Christ, fathers and mothers and children in Christ.  Our goals are not merely intellectual, but practical.  We want our graduates to be well-rounded people with a complete set of ministry skills. We are a “higher professional education” school like a polytechnical college or a dental school, not a university. Our students are being prepared for ministry, not merely given a set of skills to find a job.  We also disciple them while they are in our seminary.  Their spiritual growth is also important to us, perhaps as important as any skills they learn. 

I studied some of the writings of the French phenomenologist, Maurice Merleau-Ponty, when I was studying in Leuven, Belgium for my MA in philosophy.  Merleau-Ponty eschewed the rise of impersonal technology over more human interaction.  Merleau-Ponty advocated the sort of vision and interaction a painter, like Cezanne, had with the objects he painted. Perhaps Merleau-Ponty went too far, but he spoke of Cezanne seeing the mountain (Mount St. Victoire, which he painted dozens of times) and the mountain seeing the painter and drawing or painting through his hands.  

I don’t think Merleau-Ponty means to support the idea of panentheism, that we are part of nature and nature is a part of us, a sort of complex pantheism.  Rather he is speaking against a sort of technological viewing that loses sight of human interaction. He may have been right.  Turning people into “populations” and men into “fighting units” allowed two world wars to start in Europe.  Seeing armed forces as numbers of tanks, planes and ships meant that it was easier to forget the number of men who were in each of those vessels being destroyed.

Merleau-Ponty was not speaking against technology per se.  He was speaking against a way of seeing that was dehumanizing, which also denuded nature.  He was speaking against a way of looking at nature which turned it into something to be used (and abused).  

Merleau-Ponty asks us to see the wonder of nature as if we were children.  The earth is not merely so much dirt to be moved and so many diamonds or so much gold to be extracted.  It is a milieu in which we live, move and have our being.  

The world has been prepared for us.  The world receives us. It is not a neutral entity which we should manipulate.

In the movie “Avatar” Jake Sully in his avatar body tries to speak to the goddess, Eywa, or world soul of the planet, Pandora.  Jake asks Eywa to look into the memories of a recently deceased friend and see what sort of world the “sky people,” the humans come to Pandora, had left behind, what they had done to their planet.  “There is no green there.  They will destroy this place just as they destroyed their own world.”
I am not advocating the panentheism of the film.  However, Jake Sully’s comments are too true.  We have viewed the earth as a resource to be plundered.  Strip mines scar our lands.  

Also we see other people as “assets” or “human resources.” I remember once some years ago reacting very viscerally to the idea that I was a “human resource.” I understand what those well-intended business people meant by the term.  However, I am not a “human resource.” I am a person created in God’s image with an eternal destiny.  Particularly in ministry and missions we are people who have been called by God into specific positions and functions.  We are not merely employees helping to increase the bottom line. Whether I am “productive” or whether I am senile, God loves me and his image in me doesn’t go away.

Merleau-Ponty wants us to consider this world we are in as a place which has been made for us. As Christians we agree. God created the world and then the pinnacle of creation was humankind, man and woman.  God created the world and the diversity of life, flora and fauna, for the sake of humankind.  

Many, who are atheists or secularists, will eschew this view.  People like Peter Singer excoriate it.  “the life of a newborn [human] is of less value than the life of a pig, a dog, or a chimpanzee.”

However, Merleau-Ponty saw things differently.  We must give up “technological sight.” We must see the world as Cezanne did, full of wonder and ever changing, fascinating and in a sense magical.  Most of all we should see that the world was given to us and for us and we are given to the world and for the world.

Merleau-Ponty tries to explain this idea using the phrase, “The Flesh of the World.”  I don’t believe he means the world is alive in the sense which medieval philosophers thought.  He is not arguing for hylozoism, the idea that everything is alive.  Rather he is emphasizing that the world is in a way like a womb, which is there for our nurturing, and like the family and community we are born into. We don’t ask for it, but it is there and it receives us.

In my lectures for the course, “Foundations for Theology,” covering David K. Clark’s book, To know and love God, Clark speaks of what the true church is: a community. The New Testament Greek word is koinonia. The church is meant to be a community gathered.

Sometimes we are, most of the week we are, actually the community scattered.  We don’t see each other sometimes for the rest of the week. But when we gather on Sunday it is more than just singing hymns or worship songs, saying a liturgy or praying prayers, it is a family, a community gathering.

Gathering virtually just doesn’t satisfy me.  Sorry, this is how I feel.  Our ministers are doing a wonderful job providing a worship service each week.  They have also been providing prayer times for those interested three mornings a week and three evenings a week.

I think of those who have no spouse and have been stuck working from home.  Most of the time I have been so busy learning new technology and spending extra time preparing for classes that I have been disconnected from those folks.

Our ministers in our local church here have gone the extra mile to arrange to have members deliver flowers or send cards or do online Bible study or theology sessions.  It is wonderful.  They are wonderful. But for me, sorry, virtual church is still unsatisfying.  Our ministers are amazing. They are doing the best that can be done.  They are going far beyond the call of duty.

We were meant, however, to see each other, to hear each other, to be able to hug and shake hands.  I’m not saying we should defy sound medical advice to avoid contagion.  I’m saying this temporary quarantine is not what God meant for us.  

It is a result of the Fall into sin.  We still live in a sin ridden world.  Things are not, even on good days, as they were meant to be.

Adam and Eve caused a lot of damage.  The earth, which had been prepared for them, was given over to a curse to work against them. Death and disease became our normal.

One day, though, our “quarantine” will end.  One day our savior Jesus will return and he will recreate the New Heavens and the New Earth.  We will not be disembodied spirits then, but rather we shall continue to be embodied individuals who are then all that we were meant to be.

Then we will never again treat others as a means to an end, but all as ends in themselves. Then we will no longer view people as “human resources” or the world as a “renewable resource,” but as our family and as our home