Behold, I send you forth as sheep in the midst of wolves: be ye therefore wise as serpents, and harmless as doves. Matthew 10:16
My mother just drew to my attention this piece in the NYT. It concerns Christian scientists (big C, little S), specifically of the evangelical stripe, who must navigate "secular" academia.
Asked whether it was intellectually honest to write a dissertation so at odds with his religious views, [Dr. Ross] said: “I was working within a particular paradigm of earth history. I accepted that philosophy of science for the purpose of working with the people” at Rhode Island.
And though his dissertation repeatedly described events as occurring tens of millions of years ago, Dr. Ross added, “I did not imply or deny any endorsement of the dates.”
This raises some pretty interesting issues, pressing ones, even, but does so in a fatuous way. In the above quote, the very use of a particular methodology for dating in a dissertation does imply endorsement of it and its associated ideas. This is all part of the carefully constructed and troubling "myth of objectivity" which haunts academia in two ways: First there is the denial of any sort of objectivity—although I am sure this is less emphatic in the "hard" sciences, than it is in the "soft" sciences and humanities. Secondly there is the preservation of the form of objectivity that academics (self included) use to protect themselves from criticism by their peers. This is apparent in the dense fabric of language academics weave to avoid making any definitive or conclusive statements about anything. This has its advantages, of course. It allows one to keep a particular issue open to reconsideration, but usually it masks a definitive conclusion in an apparently innocuous way: it's the ultimate wolf in sheep's clothing.
I see this regularly in the use of what we like to call "theory" which gives our ideas a pleasantly reassuring scientific and objective-sounding ring, but in reality is the artificial "naturalizing" (that is, to understand something unreal as real) of perversion. It's particularly rife among people who like to extend psychoanalysis (the world's most tragic hoax) or Marxist economic theories (the second most) into other fields, in my case, ars historiae. Don't misunderstand: These people do so usually with the best of intentions, but as is the case in the NYT article, they seldom realize how deeply prejudiced they are against contradictions to their theoretical framework. They already do not recognize it to be a theory, which by definition is something that is still waiting conclusive proof.
For the conscientious Christian (a redundancy, I know), is it (1) possible to set aside one's "personal convictions" to engage other, even anti-Christian ideas? (2) Is to do so dishonest, or worse, immoral? (1) Yes; and (2) I don't believe so. In the case of the evangelical scientist, I imagine the solution is easiest, since the scientific method operates as a control over their results: it partially relieves them of responsibility for their conclusions. If they disagree with their conclusions, they probably should be exta conscientious to demonstrate the limits of their measuring devices and thereby cast doubt on them. Frankly, this doesn't matter to me very much, since if the earth is 10 billion years old or six thousand, it intersects my life in such a liminal way. (Creationism is maybe a separate issue, but I'm not sure I have a problem with the concept of a guided evolutionary process. It accords with God's deliberate pattern of mediated interaction with the created order.)
But more importantly, I believe we as Christians should strive to reinstate the desire for objectivity, even if, this side of the escahton, it is unobtainable. My reading of René Girard (more on this soon) has left me convinced that Christ's mission was ultimately one of revelation, truth, light, and objectivity. To aspire to be Christ-like is to pursue this objectivity, and this can mean in some cases being willing to shed our "personal convictions" many of which may be preventing us from attaining that goal (and to say this I am in no way discounting Christ's mission of redemption: what is sin if not falsehood, and who is Satan but a "liar and the father of lies"?). This also may mean, for those of us (like me) who find themselves constrained by the limits of a non-Christian intellectual framework, temporarily submitting to it. Or, more hopefully, being as "wise as serpents," finding ways to secrete the Gospel into our studies and academic output so as to subtly transform the perspectives of our colleagues and students and thus prepare the ground for the reception of the Gospel. Not all evangelism happens on the street corner with a sandwich board and a bundle of tracts.*
And finally, there is an extent to which the parsing of a "Christian" view of things, e.g. Creationism versus evolutionism, ultimately inhibits and counteracts the Gospel mandate. As I read this morning in St. Paul's first epistle to my namesake:
As I urged you when I was going to Macedonia, remain at Ephesus that you may charge certain persons not to teach any different doctrine, nor to occupy themselves with myths and endless genealogies which promote speculations rather than the divine training that is in faith; whereas the aim of our charge is love that issue from a pure heart and a good conscience and sincere faith. Certain persons by swerving from these have wandered away into vain discussion, desiring to be teachers of the law, without understanding either what they are saying or the things about which they make assertions. I Timothy 1:3-7.
________________
* I certainly hope that I am able to manage this. The dissertation that I hope to write would try to blow the lid off these issues as they pertain to art history, but it may be too clear of an affront to my PhD committee, so I am not entertaining great hopes.
My mother just drew to my attention this piece in the NYT. It concerns Christian scientists (big C, little S), specifically of the evangelical stripe, who must navigate "secular" academia.
Asked whether it was intellectually honest to write a dissertation so at odds with his religious views, [Dr. Ross] said: “I was working within a particular paradigm of earth history. I accepted that philosophy of science for the purpose of working with the people” at Rhode Island.
And though his dissertation repeatedly described events as occurring tens of millions of years ago, Dr. Ross added, “I did not imply or deny any endorsement of the dates.”
This raises some pretty interesting issues, pressing ones, even, but does so in a fatuous way. In the above quote, the very use of a particular methodology for dating in a dissertation does imply endorsement of it and its associated ideas. This is all part of the carefully constructed and troubling "myth of objectivity" which haunts academia in two ways: First there is the denial of any sort of objectivity—although I am sure this is less emphatic in the "hard" sciences, than it is in the "soft" sciences and humanities. Secondly there is the preservation of the form of objectivity that academics (self included) use to protect themselves from criticism by their peers. This is apparent in the dense fabric of language academics weave to avoid making any definitive or conclusive statements about anything. This has its advantages, of course. It allows one to keep a particular issue open to reconsideration, but usually it masks a definitive conclusion in an apparently innocuous way: it's the ultimate wolf in sheep's clothing.
I see this regularly in the use of what we like to call "theory" which gives our ideas a pleasantly reassuring scientific and objective-sounding ring, but in reality is the artificial "naturalizing" (that is, to understand something unreal as real) of perversion. It's particularly rife among people who like to extend psychoanalysis (the world's most tragic hoax) or Marxist economic theories (the second most) into other fields, in my case, ars historiae. Don't misunderstand: These people do so usually with the best of intentions, but as is the case in the NYT article, they seldom realize how deeply prejudiced they are against contradictions to their theoretical framework. They already do not recognize it to be a theory, which by definition is something that is still waiting conclusive proof.
For the conscientious Christian (a redundancy, I know), is it (1) possible to set aside one's "personal convictions" to engage other, even anti-Christian ideas? (2) Is to do so dishonest, or worse, immoral? (1) Yes; and (2) I don't believe so. In the case of the evangelical scientist, I imagine the solution is easiest, since the scientific method operates as a control over their results: it partially relieves them of responsibility for their conclusions. If they disagree with their conclusions, they probably should be exta conscientious to demonstrate the limits of their measuring devices and thereby cast doubt on them. Frankly, this doesn't matter to me very much, since if the earth is 10 billion years old or six thousand, it intersects my life in such a liminal way. (Creationism is maybe a separate issue, but I'm not sure I have a problem with the concept of a guided evolutionary process. It accords with God's deliberate pattern of mediated interaction with the created order.)
But more importantly, I believe we as Christians should strive to reinstate the desire for objectivity, even if, this side of the escahton, it is unobtainable. My reading of René Girard (more on this soon) has left me convinced that Christ's mission was ultimately one of revelation, truth, light, and objectivity. To aspire to be Christ-like is to pursue this objectivity, and this can mean in some cases being willing to shed our "personal convictions" many of which may be preventing us from attaining that goal (and to say this I am in no way discounting Christ's mission of redemption: what is sin if not falsehood, and who is Satan but a "liar and the father of lies"?). This also may mean, for those of us (like me) who find themselves constrained by the limits of a non-Christian intellectual framework, temporarily submitting to it. Or, more hopefully, being as "wise as serpents," finding ways to secrete the Gospel into our studies and academic output so as to subtly transform the perspectives of our colleagues and students and thus prepare the ground for the reception of the Gospel. Not all evangelism happens on the street corner with a sandwich board and a bundle of tracts.*
And finally, there is an extent to which the parsing of a "Christian" view of things, e.g. Creationism versus evolutionism, ultimately inhibits and counteracts the Gospel mandate. As I read this morning in St. Paul's first epistle to my namesake:
As I urged you when I was going to Macedonia, remain at Ephesus that you may charge certain persons not to teach any different doctrine, nor to occupy themselves with myths and endless genealogies which promote speculations rather than the divine training that is in faith; whereas the aim of our charge is love that issue from a pure heart and a good conscience and sincere faith. Certain persons by swerving from these have wandered away into vain discussion, desiring to be teachers of the law, without understanding either what they are saying or the things about which they make assertions. I Timothy 1:3-7.
________________
* I certainly hope that I am able to manage this. The dissertation that I hope to write would try to blow the lid off these issues as they pertain to art history, but it may be too clear of an affront to my PhD committee, so I am not entertaining great hopes.
