Easter Song, Keith Green, and Reflections on the Resurrection
NOTE: Please check out the footnotes for additional, more detailed commentary. Also, there are poetry and songs in the final footnote; and four additional songs below that.
Please also see two great sermons, one on Good Friday, the other on Easter Sunday, by my colleague Randy Klassen: both in the context of criminal/restorative justice.
Breath held through long wintry snow and rain
Orchestral stage, hushed audience before first baton thrust
Shimmering dancers at every bush and tree tip
New life rises!
I wrote this moments before we celebrated Easter with 19 family members.
WN: While I do not get off on his style of worship, or his seeming smugness about “knowing Jesus” (seen in some other YouTube videos of his performances), Keith Green’s song here (originally composed by Annie Herring, 2nd Chapter of Acts) is top of the charts for me! Forty plus years ago, we used to listen to this often at Easter! I’m happy to “resurrect” it this Easter Season.
Speaking of resurrection: there is a person of my acquaintance who used to love this song, once at least by his account pulling over on the road to deal with overwhelming joy in response to its sheer power, an exuberance that touched him emotionally to the core. There came the day however, sadly long since, that it was all rejected, and his “Jesus” became so completely watered down that it is impossible to conjure up an understanding of why such a “Jesus” was viciously rejected and crucified–if one holds to his (un)belief. As to then rising again, Dead men simply do not rise, his “scientific” mind asserts dogmatically like the best (or worst) of any religious fundamentalist I have known.
At least as hard or more so to imagine is why a whole rabble of Jesus followers joyfully joined the ranks of martyrdom in allegiance to that belief–then or since (a rather gargantuan throng of such in fact).
So is it the case, as my acquaintance now claims rather dogmatically, that the Gospels are barely “historical,” that it is simply known that scientifically, the resurrection is at best mere fairy-story, at worst a belief to be jettisoned if one time held, or rejected if considered? (I have concluded that there is no more rigid fundamentalist than one who comes to reject what once was held near and dear: in whatever field of inquiry/activity).
There is a problem with my acquaintance’s fundamentalist pontifications: he is in no way qualified to make such sweeping denials–at least not as an historian, not as a scientist, not as a theologian. He is none of them. But it’s ok with me. I bear him no ill-will for his unbelief. He’s welcome to his opinions. And they can always change.
I do however demur when his (un)beliefs are pronounced as, for all intents, incontestable truths. As though if one only had intellectual/academic/moral integrity one would just know his new fundamentalism with contrary content is the only show in town . . . I do not mind that he rails against/mocks Christian fundamentalists; that a Bishop Spong is/was his particular cup of tea. (Spong who in the books by him I read repeatedly showed himself to be one of the greatest fundamentalists of them all!) I just wish he’d dial down the unbelief dogmatism (a variation of “religion-poisoning-everything” à la Christopher Hitchens mantra). Sigh.
Jesus throughout history has transfixed lives, making it for starters a challenge to those who deny the Gospel’s transformative power once it gets a hold of one’s life. An illustration of myriad/which is this book published in 2012: Subversive Orthodoxy: Outlaws, Revolutionaries, and other Christians in Disguise. Of it we read:
It may seem a surprising claim, but some of the most brilliant and original critics of modernity have been shaped by Christianity. In Subversive Orthodoxy, Robert Inchausti maps out a tradition of twentieth century thinkers-including philosophers, activists, and novelists-whose “unique contributions to secular thought derive from their Christian worldviews.” Inchausti revisits the lives and work of a stunning array of well-known Christian thinkers as well as figures not often thought of as Christian. From Walker Percy to Dorothy Day, Jacques Ellul to Marshall McLuhan, Inchausti offers a fascinating who’s who of what he calls the “orthodox avant-garde.” Subversive Orthodoxy will be an informative and encouraging read for pastors, laypeople, and students concerned about the Christian response to secular ideologies.
We read further in the Forword by Ward Mailliard:
In poetically articulate voice, [the author] amplifies the revolutionary truth that when principles of great ethical and spiritual tradition such as Christianity are ‘lived,’ they become both “subversive” and “orthodox.”
My other problem is simply: there is no historical, scientific1 or theological evidence that compels one to disbelieve what my acquaintance once believed and found great joy in. None on all three counts.
And while his outright rejection of the Church is another story, and such likewise seems as brittle fundamentalist as his other sweeping contestations about what one now must (dis)believe (he demonstrates–to my thinking–significant lack of historiographical discernment), I’m at a loss as to what to do with such overwhelming prejudice and closed-mindedness with so underwhelming historical evidence.
On the contrary: he could benefit from a bracing read of Sir Larry Siedentop’s Inventing the Individual: The Origins of Western Liberalism, that does a sweep of 1800 years of Western history, claiming that
The roots of liberalism—belief in individual freedom, in the fundamental moral equality of individuals, in a legal system based on equality, and in a representative form of government befitting a society of free people—all these were pioneered by Christian thinkers of the Middle Ages who drew on the moral revolution carried out by the early Church. These philosophers and canon lawyers, not the Renaissance humanists, laid the foundation for liberal democracy in the West.–from description of book highlighted above; emphasis added).
It’s Hard to Believe
I think there is no suffering greater than what is caused by the doubts of those who want to believe. I know what torment this is, but I can only see it, in myself anyway, as the process by which faith is deepened. A faith that just accepts is a child’s faith and all right for children, but eventually you have to grow religiously as every other way, though some never do. What people don’t realize is how much religion costs. They think faith is a big electric blanket, when of course it is the cross. It is much harder to believe than not to believe. If you feel you can’t believe, you must at least do this: keep an open mind. Keep it open toward faith, keep wanting it, keep asking for it, and leave the rest to God.–Source: Flannery O’Connor in The Habit of Being: Letters of Flannery O’Connor
My wife and I however long since gratefully committed lèse-majesté and self-expulsion from that sorry realm of facile, faux deontological unbelief. Well, we really never were inhabitants (though we likewise abandoned an earlier Christian fundamentalism).2
Of course, my acquaintance is welcome to his (un)beliefs! No I don’t believe he is going to hell for rejecting the Christian faith of his previous self. But I have not heard him express for many a year the kind of high-spirited joy he once had in the resurrection–and with it the whole bag of for him once life-giving tricks. We receive the Spirit of truth so that we can know the things of God. In order to grasp this, consider how useless the faculties of the human body would become if they were denied their exercise. Our eyes cannot fulfil their task without light, either natural or artificial; our ears cannot react without sound vibrations, and in the absence of any odour our nostrils are ignorant of their function. Not that these senses would lose their own nature if they were not used; rather, they demand objects of experience in order to function. It is the same with the human soul. Unless it absorbs the gift of the Spirit through faith, the mind has the ability to know God but lacks the light necessary for that knowledge.—From the treatise on the Trinity by Saint Hilary of Poitiers
We receive the Spirit of truth so that we can know the things of God. In order to grasp this, consider how useless the faculties of the human body would become if they were denied their exercise. Our eyes cannot fulfil their task without light, either natural or artificial; our ears cannot react without sound vibrations, and in the absence of any odour our nostrils are ignorant of their function. Not that these senses would lose their own nature if they were not used; rather, they demand objects of experience in order to function. It is the same with the human soul. Unless it absorbs the gift of the Spirit through faith, the mind has the ability to know God but lacks the light necessary for that knowledge.—From the treatise on the Trinity by Saint Hilary of Poitiers
For those however who might be on the contrary more open-minded, I’ll point you presently to (if unaware) some of the historical/scientific scholarship that influences me–if as well you are considering these things. In light of Dr. Shapin’s statement above (Footnote 1) about trusting these various voices: I do.
Paradoxically though, there are many who have come to the Christian faith entirely outside of any “rational” path. One such is classicist, “anthropologist of everyday life,” researcher, broadcaster, filmmaker, award-winning author, and delightfully enthusiastic about wherever she directs her brilliant mind, Margaret Visser. She is a deeply committed Christian, who came to faith through a mystical experience in a gym exercise class at the University of Toronto.3(p. 712). She gives no indication that any of the foregoing was at play at all in her conversion.
So to be clear: I make no assertion that what is offered compels belief–or “demands a verdict” as a pseudo-intellectual Christian apologist contends. I only claim it is not irrational to ask for somewhat stronger arguments on my acquaintance’s (un)beliefs’ behalf.
God from experience and what otherwise I can tell does not force anything on anyone! God is the great Cosmic Wooer not a Crusader . . . Therefore, how dare I in matters of faith presume to impose anything on anyone?! Faith is always a gift.
There of course are (am I bending over backwards here?) valid personal reasons people leave/fail to embrace Christian faith. How dare anyone dispute/critique that? Some have been deeply hurt/traumatized by the Church, by us Christians . . .
I am moved by this reflection from Lore Wilbert: “Judas, with the piece of bread.”:
It seems like every week another friend or acquaintance is saying they’ve found Christianity wanting. It’s not always Christ they find wanting, but his followers. Russell Moore wrote a strong and stirring piece this past week on why this might be, and I recommend you read it.
We have the opportunity to respond in a few ways when friends struggle or leave Christianity. We can write scathing prayers couched in sneering judgment, we can pity them and let them know how wrong they’ve got it. Or we can look to Jesus who offered bread and wine to the one who would reject him, who let him eat or take it with him, who didn’t call him out by name in public, but who let the scene play all the way out.
Who knows how many times our friends have received communion, their faith wobbly and the sins done against them and their own sin at the forefront of their minds? But they still took it then and brought it with them when they left.
That comforts me this morning because I believe Christ cares about the one. I believe Christ came to save all. And I believe all have eternity written within them, and some carry it with them as they go. And perhaps someday when they need it, they will find the bread, the body, just as available to them then as it was when they left.
I can only add: Amen.
Further: I subscribe to Christoph Friedrich Blumhardt‘s (an amazing 19th-century theologian) affirmation:Everyone Belongs to God: Discovering the Hidden Christ. So I can leave all that (thank God!) to God.
My more modest contention is simply: what follows in point form (for me!) precludes any facile unbelief on points of history or science.4
- Jesus Remembered: Christianity in the Making, Volume I, James D. G. Dunn, Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2003.5 This besides massive works by the same author on Jesus and Paul. A sampling of others: The Theology of Paul the Apostle (2006); The New Perspective on Paul (2007); a collection of earlier essays, Jesus, Paul, and the Gospels (2011); his collection of essays on The Oral Gospel Tradition (2016); Jesus According to the New Testament (2019); and he has authored other books, commentaries and innumerable articles contributing to a wide assortment of scholarly works in his field.Sadly, Dr. Dunn died at the age of 80 in 2020. There had been no more top-notch and prolific Early Church historian writing today!On the resurrection, Dunn avers:
As a historical statement we can say quite firmly: no Christianity without the resurrection of Jesus. As Jesus is the single greatest ‘presupposition’ of Christianity, so also is the resurrection of Jesus. To stop short of the resurrection would have been to stop short (p. 826).
By stark contrast, I once listened for 4½ hours or so to my acquaintance mentioned above as he trashed the Gospels as unhistorical and hence quite dismissible–in his loquacious rendition of a virulent anti-creed. Perhaps ( 😉 ) one can guess whom I find more credible: the three historians mentioned above (and so many more!)–over against the profound, comparatively (though “comparison” is not even a register in his case) uninformed bias of my acquaintance . . .
- Another top-notch Early Church historian, N. T. Wright, published Volume III of his “Christian Origins and the Question of God” series with the title: The Resurrection of the Son of God. Wright asserts:
The fact that dead people do not ordinarily rise is itself part of early Christian belief, not an objection to it. The early Christians insisted that what had happened to Jesus was precisely something new; was, indeed, the start of a whole new mode of existence, a new creation. The fact that Jesus’ resurrection was, and remains, without analogy is not an objection to the early Christian claim. It is part of the claim itself (p. 762).6
- A world-renowned journalist/historian with prodigious output is Paul Johnson. An octogenarian when he wrote Jesus: A Biography from a Believer, he invites readers to request any substantiating scholarship–readily available from him–for his biography of Jesus. (For those who object that he is clearly biased in light of the subtitle, the very objection of course carries its own objection of bias in turn!) Johnson writes at the end of the book:
The Gospels are designed to be read and reread. The oftener we do so, the greater our delight in them, the deeper our understanding, and the more we grasp their realism. They are the truth. What they tell us actually happened. The characters are real. The details are strangely, sometimes mysteriously, convincing. As we go on reading, the many centuries which intervene gradually slip away, and we become familiar with a world not so different from our own . . . [The Gospels’] message, at its simplest, is do as Jesus did. That is why his biography, in our terrifying twenty-first century, is so important. We must study it, and learn (pp. 224 – 226).7
- Francis Sellers Collins is an American physician-geneticist noted for his discoveries of disease genes and his leadership of the Human Genome Project. He is director of the National Institutes of Health in Bethesda, Maryland, United States. He is a scientist’s scientist in ways that again put my acquaintance into a totally different league, so bush as not even to bear comparative mention. Sadly for my acquaintance. Please see this article of Collins’ receiving the 2020 Templeton Prize–in the context of COVID-19 and anti-Science Trump: NIH Chief, BioLogos Founder Francis Collins Wins Templeton Prize. Then please see A Long Talk With Anthony Fauci’s Boss About the Pandemic, Vaccines, and Faith. Dr. Collins expresses succinctly why he came to and remains in the Christian faith out of an earlier atheism. Collins has published several books in relation to his Christian faith. In The Language of God: A Scientist Presents Evidence for Belief (incidentally, University of British Columbia’s President and Vice Chancellor Santa J. Ono states that this is his favourite book), Dr. Collins writes in the Introduction:
So here is the central question of this book: In this modern era of cosmology, evolution, and the human genome, is there still the possibility of a richly satisfying harmony between the scientific and spiritual worldviews? I answer with a resounding yes! (pp. 5 & 6)8
In the face of the above scholarly testimonials, I find my acquaintance’s dogmatic fundamentalist unbelief wears a bit thin
. . .
Again: mine is not a contrary dogmatic fundamentalist belief critique/affirmation. Rather, to cite Professor Barr’s words yet again (also in Footnote 1), slightly paraphrased:
It is certainly conceivable, if to many of us not credible, that [my acquaintance’s inverse fundamentalism] is true, but surely it is not irrational to ask for somewhat stronger arguments on its behalf.
Hope you too can thrill to the joy of the resurrection! If you can, I hope the above song and reflections will contribute to it!9
In that joyful affirmation, you may take to heart then act on Bishop Thomas Gumbleton’s challenge to us in his Easter Sunday 2019 homily: “Have complete faith in the Resurrection.”
Then take in this joyful Easter rendition of Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah:
The phrase “. . . save us from ourselves” is used in the song above. The following video, a beautiful plaintive cry of the heart written and sung by Dee Wilson in the context of the huge Black Lives Matter summer protests of 2020, and against the backdrop of the pandemic, also uses that phrase and explains why we all stand in need of that kind of salvation . . .
OK: One more hugely hopeful Easter Song!–from Good Shepherd Music Collective:
I’ll end with this:
He is risen! He is risen indeed! Amen.
- In this brief commentary, I point below to works related to issues of historical credibility of the Gospels.
There is a rough parallel between earlier “Historical Jesus Quest” historians in their dismissal of New Testament historical reliability, and earlier scientific research that to this day (scientific) materialists claim explains everything–without reference to God.
A classic text on this is by physicist Stephen M. Barr who writes:
The question before us, then, is whether the actual discoveries of science have undercut the central claims of religion, specifically the great monotheistic religions of the Bible, Judaism and Christianity, or whether those discoveries have actually, in certain important respects, damaged the credibility of materialism (Modern Physics and Ancient Faith (2003), pp. 2 & 3.)
The author, in an irenic, often understated manner, concludes the latter, saying at the end of the book:
It is certainly conceivable, if to many of us not credible, that materialism is true, but surely it is not irrational to ask for somewhat stronger arguments on its behalf (p. 256).
So with issues of historical reliability of the New Testament: it is conceivable that the documents are overall not very historically reliable. But the evidence does not compel one towards that conclusion. It is not irrational to assert that. (There is more on this below.)
When I wrote a major essay on Gotthold Ephraim Lessing (see also below) in my undergraduate German literature program, with a view to challenge Lessing’s presuppositions about the general historicity of the New Testament (“accidental truths of history” he dubbed them), and the inviolability by contrast of reason as ultimate guide to truth (“necessary truths of reason” he called them), my prof thought it rather presumptuous that I would tackle one of the Enlightenment founding notions about religion. He indicated surprise upon giving me a high mark for the paper: it was “reasonable,” he felt.
Anti-religious bias is ubiquitous in our culture, and rarely acknowledged: both product of the Enlightenment.
Reality is: the Judeo-Christian Tradition is one of the most ancient, and has throughout engaged brilliant thinkers butting up against what is known about the wider world/universe–and making sense in light of faith. Fides quaerens intellectum, was the widely-embraced 11th-century articulation by Saint Anselm, meaning: Faith seeking understanding.
In modernity, it was claimed that “Science” displaced Faith as authoritative portal to understanding. But this is modern mythology. Noted former CBC Ideas broadcaster David Cayley highlights this in How To Think About Science, 24 hours of broadcast interviews with top historians, sociologists and philosophers of science. (Yes, I listened to them all.) One may also read his subsequent book: Ideas on the Nature of Science. Though it does not include everything from the series. The full transcript may be found on Cayley’s website, and here.
In that transcript, p. 148, during an interview with Steven Shapin (who is an historian and sociologist of science at Harvard University, co-author of Leviathan and the Air Pump, and author of A Social History of Truth and the Scientific Life), he contends that “. . . trust is imperative for constituting every kind of knowledge. Knowledge-making is always a collective enterprise: people have to know whom to trust in order to know something about the natural world.) We read:
We might mean that the idea of science has some authority, that people think that science has got a method that guarantees the production of reliable knowledge, and that’s an intriguing idea, except the evidence is that not just lay people, but scientists themselves, have tremendous disagreements about what it is that method–the scientific method–might be. So we’re left with rather a puzzle about what we might mean by saying science is the characteristic culture of modernity, and I’d like to leave it at that because I’d like to encourage a lot more interest in the conditions under which we can talk about science and the modern world.
Religion, we should understand now, has enormous authority. Whether or not it’s increasing its authority in our public life, especially in this country [the USA], is another matter. But religion did not go away. Religion was not killed by science. For all that the commentators at the end of the 19th century or early 20th century said so, they were wrong. Religion is alive and well.
The Wikipedia article states about Stephen Barr’s book adduced above:
Modern Physics and Ancient Faith (2003) is a book by Stephen M. Barr, a physicist from the University of Delaware and frequent contributor to First Things. This book is “an extended attack” on what Barr calls scientific materialism. National Review says of the book: “[A] lucid and engaging survey of modern physics and its relation to religious belief. . . . Barr has produced a stunning tour de force . . . [a] scientific and philosophical breakthrough.”
The book is divided into five parts spanning 26 chapters. The main religious and philosophical themes include determinism, mind as a machine, anthropic principle, and the big bang theory. Its main thesis is that science and religion only appear in conflict because many have “conflated science with philosophical materialism.”Barr repeatedly disclaims offering “rigorous scientific proofs” for traditional Judeo-Christianity. (There are none!) Rather, he systematically carves out room for its possible embrace based on what is known from modern physics. Not a few surprises await (at least the previously uninformed reader–like me).
. . . except the evidence is that not just lay people, but scientists themselves, have tremendous disagreements about what it is that method–the scientific method–might be.
- For insight, though from the (but-not-unlike) American side, see my review of Jesus and John Wayne: How White Evangelicals Corrupted a Faith and Fractured a Nation . . .
- She speaks of it in a documentary called The Geometry of Love. (The book by the same title is an amazing read.) You can also hear various pieces of interviews with her on a CBC retrospective. You’re in for a treat! I also reviewed her The Gift of Thanks: The Roots, Persistence, and Paradoxical Meanings of a Social Ritual (another treat), along with two others on gratitude (Toronto: HarperCollins, 2010.)
- The Easter 2019 article (“The ‘literal flesh-and-blood’ resurrection is the heart of my faith”) by James Martin, S.J. captures the essence. The reader may weigh it.
In it we read:
Let me offer my own perspective on this. I believe that Jesus Christ rose from the dead on the first Easter Sunday. And I do not see that as any sort of parable or metaphor. This is, frankly, the very heart of my faith.
Also, I do not believe that we can or should reduce the great mystery of the resurrection to an experience that occurred within the community. This is what some contemporary theologians have posited: that Christ “rose” within the community.
Theological approaches differ, but, in essence, some theologians offer the story of how, as the disciples came to reflect on the life and death of Jesus Christ, he became “present” to them in a new way, through the Spirit. This, in turn, empowered them to proclaim the good news of his Gospel. Some theologians offer this as a more credible or contemporary way of understanding the “resurrection.”
But there is a problem with this idea of the resurrection as the after-effects of a “shared memory.” Certainly, after the resurrection and the ascension the disciples would have “remembered” Jesus, and certainly they may have had powerful Spirit-filled experiences as they did so, often as they gathered in community. But, to my mind, only something as vivid, dramatic and, in a word, real as the multiple appearances by the risen Christ could have moved the disciples from abject fear (cowering behind closed doors) to being willing to give their lives for Jesus. Nothing else can credibly account for the transformation of terrified disciples into willing martyrs.
- The two other volumes are: Beginning from Jerusalem (Volume 2, 2009) and Neither Jew nor Greek: A Contested Identity (Volume 3, 2015). Together, the three volumes add up to 3,312 pages, including vast bibliographies and footnotes!
- In my university German studies, we read Gotthold Ephraim Lessing‘s famous and what became normative Enlightenment dictum that There is an ugly broad ditch between the accidental truths of history and the necessary truths of reason. In other words, “historical” events so claimed by Christians such as the Resurrection are not in themselves self-evident truths compared to axiomatic truths of reason, accessible to any rational mind. Or: it is impossible to prove faith from history. Two characters in my Chrysalis Crucible novel respond thus to Lessing:
Andy replied, “There was a ‘self-evident’ truth Lessing himself was overlooking. The truth is, ‘truth’—even the ‘necessary truths of reason’—are not so obviously ‘true’ or ‘necessary’ after all.”
Dan could not hold back. “The great Michael Polanyi objection, precisely! [More on Michael Polanyi is in the next footnote.] Had Mr. Lessing been able to transport himself magically and linguistically to the head hunters roaming around New Guinea at the time, he’d have quickly found out how nonuniversally-self-evident were his ‘necessary truths’ after all, perhaps only moments before falling prey to their ‘necessary truth,’ namely, outsiders were best in the cooking pot, and his sun-shrunken head pride-of-place charm above the chief’s doorway.
James D.G. Dunn comments:
In short, the tension between faith and history has too often been seen as destructive of good history. On the contrary, however, it is the recognition that Jesus can be perceived only through the impact he made on his first disciples (that is, their faith) which is the key to a historical recognition (and assessment) of that impact . . .
It should not go unobserved that if this insight is justified it provides some sort of solution to the long-perceived gulf between history and faith. For in the historical moment(s) of creation of the Jesus tradition we have historical faith. The problem of history and faith, we might say, has been occasioned by the fact that further down the stream of faith and history the two have seemed so difficult to reconcile . . . All I am saying at this point is that the actual Synoptic tradition, with its record of things Jesus said and did, bears witness to a continuity between pre-Easter memory and post-Easter proclamation, a continuity of faith (Jesus Remembered: Christianity in the Making, Volume I, pp. 132 & 133).
In other words, the Historical Jesus Quest for 500 years has attempted to get behind the scenes of the Gospels to see what was really happening on the other side of the curtain, the axiomatic assumption since the Enlightenment generally being, what is going on in front on the Gospel stage, the actual play as recorded in the Gospels, is untrustworthy because in Lessing’s word merely “accidental.” 500 years of failure in, one may rather definitively say, the stage or front of the scenes–the play as recorded in the Gospels–is all one will ever be able to see! And in the paraphrased words of Shakespeare’s Hamlet, “the play’s the thing wherein to catch the conscience of us all . . .”
Dunn’s entire study is of a “Jesus Remembered” who is accessible equally to history and faith, wherein the only Jesus of history it is possible to discover is the Christ of faith. In light as said of 500 years of failed “historical Jesus questing,” yielding only a multiplicity of Jesuses historically “reconstructed” to look each time suspiciously like the reconstructionist him/herself is simply projecting his/her bias (or preferred “Jesus” if you will) onto the Gospels’ Jesus,
it becomes clear that a theological and cultural agenda is the driving force rather than a desire to do better history (The Writings of the New Testament: An Interpretation, Third Edition, Luke Timothy Johnson, Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2010, p, 629–in Second Edition).
It’s just possible then that Lessing’s “ugly, broad ditch” was needlessly dug by him and his contemporaries . . . into which many since subsequently and haplessly fell. A further discussion of Lessing’s ditch is: Leaping Lessing’s Ugly Broad Ditch.
Michael Polanyi emphasizes that personal knowledge is dependent on “communities of dialogue” within given cultural traditions which we all inhabit. It’s just that different cultural traditions yield different knowledge/rationalities.
Articulate systems which foster and satisfy intellectual passion can survive only with the support of a society which respects the values affirmed by these passions, and a society has a cultural life only to the extent to which it acknowledges and fulfills the obligation to lend its support to the cultivation of these passions . . . The tacit coefficients by which these articulate systems are understood and accredited . . . are also coefficients of a cultural life shared by a community (Personal Knowledge: Towards a Post-Critical Philosophy, Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1962, p. 203.)
Our formal upbringing evokes in us an elaborate set of emotional responses, operating within an articulate cultural framework. By the strength of these affections we assimilate this framework and uphold it as our culture… (ibid, p. 70.)
Lessing was a white adult male within an educated elite European circle of white males in the 18th century at a time of the incipient Enlightenment, whose shared rationality was moulded by that community. There is otherwise no shared universal rationality. (Widespread received rationality for instance throughout the South of the USA amongst Whites for more than a century dictated the necessity of Blacks hanging from trees.)
Larry Siedentop also traces in the study noted above the profound changes in the basis/understanding of “rationalism/reason” from ancient Greco-Roman culture to the modern era under the enlightened (read “liberalizing”) influence of the Church. The burden of his monograph is to demonstrate that without that influence/by continuing with ancient pagan cultural conceptualizations of rationality, there would never have been development of the Western liberal concept of the individual.
- Brilliant Catholic priest, sociologist, award-winning essayist, novelist, prodigiously prolific author (each list of his nonfiction, then fictional works alone–etc., etc., etc.!–is longer than the number of books many educated folks read in a lifetime), Fr. Andrew Greeley put it this way:
At this point, I should make clear where I am coming from. I am a Catholic Christian, indeed a priest. I believe in all the Church’s teachings about Jesus. I believe that in Him humanity and divinity are seamlessly shared, true God and true man. I believe in the virginal conception of Jesus and His physical resurrection. I’ve never seen the point in trying to water down the wonderful or the surprising in the Jesus story merely to win over those who do not believe by saying, in effect, “We are not really as outrageous as we seem.” I figure that if God is going to intervene in the human condition for a decisive event he will do it big time. If God intends this intervention to be a surprise then he will make it a big surprise. It is, after all, God’s cosmos. He who launched the Big Bang can rearrange things slightly when something truly decisive is about to happen. Thus the question did Jesus rise from the dead “physically” or “spiritually” has always seemed to me to be absurd. He rose. Period. End of revelation.
Those who argue like Bishop Spong that the Resurrection was in fact a change in the personalities and perceptions of the apostles are willing to give away the whole game because scientists say that a resurrection is impossible. But one will not win scientists to the cause of Jesus by watering down the traditional Christian conviction that the surprise of Easter Sunday was something vast, spectacular, unparalleled. My friends Hans Küng and the late Raymond E. Brown argued once at a meeting of theologians whether a TV camera would have recorded Jesus emerging from the tomb. I couldn’t see the point of the argument and still can’t. Jesus was alive again and not just in the minds of his followers. The Resurrection was not just a religious experience among the apostles who were not at the time disposed to religious experiences but rather overcome with fear and grief–like Cleopas and friend scurrying away to Emmaus. The surprise of Easter surely caused a religious experience that persists to this day. It is not the result of one.
- Please also see this article: “Katharine Hayhoe, Santa Ono featured in major science/faith conference.”
- You might also be drawn to some of the glorious poetry and music on Canadian award-winning singer/songwriter and recently inducted into the Order of Manitoba Steve Bell’s page: Thoughts, Songs and Poems for Easter Morning 2020.