2007
Getting All the Answers.
Most people at work know that I want to get a PhD in religious studies (only one year left to my master’s degree!). But I was a little taken aback when my office mate said,
“John, I’m waiting for you to get that PhD so that you can come back and give me all the answers.”
I thought he was joking. He wasn’t. I responded by saying that even–no, especially–the ostensible experts don’t agree with each other. What kind of answers can they have?
Since one of my dreams is to get a doctorate degree (and since I’m married to a PhD candidate), I’ve thought a lot about that conversation. I was surprised at his level of trust in academic authority and I wonder how much this respect is reflected in society (my impression is that academics are often perceived as myopic, arrogant and out of touch). Especially where religion is concerned, there are other competing authorities, whether ecclesiastic or direct communication with The Big Bearded Man hisself.
I like academics, but they can succumb to any of the standard human biases and short-sightedness. What I do subscribe to are the skeptical attitude, rigorous critical analysis, and the process of peer review that are all part of the academic environment. Theoretically, anything is open to critique–but you’d better have a solid case or it’s going to get ripped to shreds. I know it doesn’t sound very cheery, but it’s this critical approach that attracts me to the modern academic mindset. I trust the truths achieved through this method far more than the ones arrived at through faith (especially when these conclusions are then shielded from critique).
What do you think?  Do you find value in applying the historical-critical / skeptical scientific method to the study of religious claims and/or the nature of reality?  What is the place of academics and critical scholarship in the study and public discussion of religion?  Bonus question: do I need to find another career goal?
John,
These are questions I ask myself all the time. I find myself torn between two impulses. The first is the critical attitude that you talk about. I find I naturally gravitate toward that type of inquiry, and I agree that peer reviewed journals and rigorous scholarship are very important.
On the other hand, some of my most favorite works regarding religion were not created on that basis. For example, Walden (my favorite book) has some important things to say about religiousity but it is not critical as you say. Now, maybe one could say that since it is literature that it’s different. But I guess I am tryinig to make a broader point, which is that the disciplines of the humanities often lose touch with the human condition in their drive for scholarship, and I think that is unfortunate.
Well that’s long enough
I always felt that the best part about education was the discussions. I guess that’s why I was drawn toward the social sciences rather than the “hard” sciences (you have to get further in those before they admit they don’t know what they’re talking about). And so, just knowing how people have talked about the questions in the past informs the answers you might come up with.
I guess I’ve been biased since birth, but I can’t imagine approaching faith and religion in any context other that a scholarly one. I relish the skeptical attitude, the rigourous critical analysis, and the peer review with others who have the same philosophy towards finding religious truth. I particularly like the skeptical attitude. If anyone says something religious to me (scholar or layperson), I won’t believe it until I can see it proven. If religious experts (pastors) say something, I’ll probably believe the opposite on purpose.
A scholastic approach is how the average guy can escape cults or pastors or denominations with selfish agendas or that blindly embrace whatever fanciful or sensational new doctrine that happens to blow their way. Most importantly, this route teaches you how to think, NOT what to think. This is how you can bypass the encrustation of tradition that has been built up around the original text (hat tip to Johnny and John for this insight in a previous post.) Many churches in my history have always focused religious studies on teaching truth without explaining how they arrived at that interpretation (which cannot be questioned anyway even if you do ask.) I refuse to gain religious knowledge this way… ever.
At the same time, I agree with what Johnny said. There is something experiential and less scholarly about religion. I personally come at religious studies not as a detached observer from a purely anthropological standpoint, but as one experiencing God right now in a personal relationship. On one hand, I’m working out a model of God by reading enormous amounts of works on different theology systems, reading the Bible itself, reading critiques about it, and diving into Greek, Hebrew, and histories of ancient near eastern societies to find the truth on these things better. On the other hand, I’m experiencing the same God I’m studying about on a day-to-day basis. So in this sense, studying about God (for me) is analogous to studying behaviorial psychology while being married. The books and rigorous study combined with the experience of real life encompass the two fronts of learning – experiential and academic.
I have always used the analogy of studying Russia to illustrate this: what is the best way to learn about Russia? Read about it in books, or move and go live there with the people? My best guess is to do both; to bais yourself towards one or the other too much will often give you a skewed picture of the truth. This seems to be the most hopeful approach for the student of the social sciences (as opposed to the hard sciences, like biology or mathematics)
But… I’m preaching to the choir (no pun intended.
.) John – it appears that you are already doing this as evidenced in your O.C. Pilgrimage.
This post has hit upon something that I think about quite a bit. So I have some further questions (I hope I am not threadjacking here)…
1) What do we mean exactly by ‘skeptical attitude’? Do we mean an attitude of doubt, a broad based skepticism of all claims without evidence, or a reliance upon critical evaluation?
2) If there is a difference between the experiential and ‘analytical’ approach, which should take priority and when? Is it right that in academic settings the analytic has priority and in our personal lives it is reversed? Or should the analytic approach or experiential approach always have a priority in every setting?
Just curious what others think-
Johnny,
Good questions! Here are a couple of my thoughts:
a skeptical attitude:
Ideally, it should be about a reliance on a methodology of critical evaluation. In reality, of course, there are all kinds of motivations that make a person skeptical for reasons other than just a blind desire to find truth. This is usually because they were burned in the past and need to find a system for being more careful about taking in truth. Like me, many are still angry and reacting, so they are overly skeptical to a fault.
All skepticism in practice starts with a foundation of untouchable presuppositions. This usually involves a deity or not, and the use of logic and reason to add new truth and make our existing beliefs be consistent with each other.
What comes first, experiential or academic acquired truth?
My best guess: experiential comes first. We experience reality, and then spend the rest of time reflecting on what it means. Academic thinking can never happen unless the object or event it analyzes occurred in reality first. This could be extended to include phenomena similar as a basis for a starting point in an area of study in the case that it has not yet been directly observed, but can only be inferred. Cosmology is a good example of science based on inferred observation. Abstract thinking too far divorced from perceived reality seems to be a useless endeavor to help a person live their lives, although it might make for fun mental games. (Epictetus) I have always had this problem with philosophers who built systems that questioned reality as we perceive it, while at the same time living their lives as if they did in fact have a firm grip on what was and was not reality and how to correctly perceive it. Their philosophical thinking never made it into use in their daily lives. David Hume is a primary example of this error from my limited understanding of all this (I’m new to the study of philosophy)
If I’m not mistaken, this ordering is not different from science – we observe something raw in the universe, and then we set out trying to make sense of it.
But especially when it comes to philosophy and Christianity, it appears to me that God cannot be proven outside of an experience with Him. You experience Him first, and then pick up the pieces afterwards in an academic sense. This was the main driving point of Anselm, who seems to be making the most sense to me at the moment:
Jonathan, I like your conclusions. It seems to me that experience (observation and experiment) and critical inquiry together are key. One without the other is problematic. The only problem I see is the ability to replicate the God experiment / experience consistently.
Johnny, your #2 question has me thinking. I want to add “personal relationships” to it somehow, to distinguish from private introspection. I’m willing to give up a certain degree of examination (but not too much) for the sake of family tranquility. Still pondering the academic v. personal aspect.
I’m not always certain that experiential knowledge comes first. In fact, I would say that both experiential and analytical knowledge are the same if you have been school in skeptical thought (Ooo, I managed to use all the buzzwords in a sentence! Do I get a star?!).
Belief may come before experience and I would argue that it is not the same as experience. I was told to believe in things I had never experienced when I was a child; I was also, however, given a liberal arts education. So, when I experienced things that did not fit into the world-view of my parents, I realized that my beliefs were suspect. It never occurred to me to think that my experiences were (although that would be just as valid a conclusion).
I agree that something must be experienced in some way in order to analyze it. When our eyes see a table, the light reflecting off of the table hits our eyes and is flipped over a few times (experienced) before our brain recognizes (analyzes) it as a table. But it happens so fast as to be almost the same thing. In the same way, when we remember (analyze) something in a sense we relive (reexperience) it.
An education that teaches skepticism will allow us to analyze our experiences, sometimes as they are occurring, sometimes only in remembering them. I would say that this is the definition of skepticism: analyzing our experiences. A good zen master would have left my apartment a few weeks ago and noted that there was a fire but had no reaction. But I would say that my skeptical experience of that same fire was more rich for the analyses that I made while I was experiencing it as well as long after it happened.
John (#6): skeptical and analytical thought is present in both personal and acedemic settings. We may learn to be skeptical and analytical in a classroom, but what use is it to us if we don’t put it into practice outside of the classroom? Even classroom-learning that is “important”, whether the subject matter is biology or theology, is not as important (I would argue) than personal experience. I learned CPR not just for the sake of learning it (although I admit that this is an honorable goal) but so that, if necessary, I could practice it. I value the theological upbringing I had because it gives me a better understanding of spritual, mystical, and political experiences that I have on a daily basis (even if it’s just the experience of reading a blog). Why do you study theology? So you can tell people that’s what your degree is in at cocktail parties? Or so that you can more deeply understand your place in the universe?
In conclusion, I’ve been spending far too much time with LSAT books and should return to a more conversational tone…