What is Truth?

A week ago today, most Christians around the world observed what is widely called Good Friday. It was on that day that Pilate said to Jesus, probably scoffingly, “What is truth?” (John 18:38).  He may not have meant the question seriously; yet that remains an inquiry of profound importance that deserves deep reflection.

Philosophers have discussed the meaning of truth for millennia. In the Western world, that question dates back at least to the sixth century BCE, and even further back in the Eastern world of India and China. In the philosophical formulation of responses to the question, the following are the most common.

** Correspondence theory — truth is what matches reality. For example, “it is raining” is true if, in fact, one can clearly see or feel raindrops falling.

** Coherence theory — truth is what fits consistently within a web of established beliefs, like interlocking puzzle pieces with no gaps.

**Pragmatist theory — truth is what works in practice, proving useful and yielding real-world results.

These three theories are all correct and useful in answering the question regarding what truth is on the second of the three levels of reality about which I wrote in my February 28 blog post (see here). But they are not sufficient for comprehending “ultimate truth,” which is what I called the third/top level of reality in that article.

Ultimate Truth must be known by personal encounter rather than by abstract thought. Emil Brunner (1889~1966) wrote Truth as Encounter, and that is a primary emphasis of some of the philosophers I have studied most. Brunner rejected classical mysticism, but I am using that term here to refer to personal contact with God rather than intellectual reasoning about God.

Here, briefly, are three philosophers/theologians who emphasize mysticism the way I am defining it:

** Blaise Pascal (1623~62). On November 23, 1654, that highly acclaimed French mathematician and physicist wrote about his unexpected, life-changing experience: “FIRE. GOD of Abraham, GOD of Isaac, GOD of Jacob not of the philosophers and of the learned. Certitude. Certitude. Feeling. Joy. Peace.” That was surely a “mystical” encounter of the highest level.

** Søren Kierkegaard (1813~55). That famous Danish philosopher, widely regarded as the father of existentialism, deepened Pascal’s vision by insisting that God’s existence cannot be proved by reason but rather must be personally encountered as the living God in whom one is brought to faith, repentance, and worship. His emphasis on the “leap of faith” is easily linked to “mysticism.”

** Richard Rohr (b. 1943). This noted Franciscan friar and Roman Catholic priest authored The Universal Christ (2019), one of the most valuable books I have read in the last ten years. He embraces the mystical label himself, and his emphasis on contemplative, non-dualistic knowing fits comfortably within the broader mystical tradition.

** Michael Polanyi (1891~1976). This scientist turned philosopher is not a religious thinker as the previous three are, but he can be thought of as an epistemological ally rather than a fellow mystic. He demolishes the pretension that objective, impersonal, propositional knowing is the only legitimate form of knowledge, so he is a philosophical apologist for knowing truth by encounter.

Knowing Ultimate Truth is far more complex than understanding truth on lower levels. In everyday life, “truth” can be considered whatever works pragmatically (as in the third theory listed above). In that sense, truth can be “relative.” What works for me may not be the same as what works for you—and that is all right.

In considering both what is real and what is truth, though, we must seek both in the higher/universal realm. And we need to remember Jesus saying that “you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free” (John 8:32).

In John’s Gospel, Jesus does not present truth as a set of detached propositions but as a relationship that unfolds in ongoing encounter. Those who “abide” in his word “know the truth,” not in the sense of embracing correct ideas, but by entering into living fellowship with the One who declared, “I am the way, the truth, and the life” (John 14:6a).  

The freedom Jesus promises is the freedom that comes when Ultimate Reality—whom Christians confess as God—is no longer an object of discussion but a personal Presence who addresses us, claims us, and sets us free.

With relation to the contemporary world, on every level, people of this country and around the world need to be freed from the lies of the current POTUS, who, for more than a decade now, has been misleading the public with lies and deceptive statements daily.

True or False?

“Sometimes the things that may or may not be true are the things a man needs to believe in the most.” Those are words from the movie Secondhand Lions. At the end of last month, Thinking Friend Anton Jacobs shared that statement and related comments with me and a few mutual friends, prompting an interesting discussion. 

Are there things we should believe even if they are not true? That seems to be what is implied in the above-mentioned movie. Three years ago, my wife and I watched, and enjoyed, that 2003 American comedy-drama film. But I hadn’t remembered the words cited above or the longer statement:

That people are basically good; that honor, courage, and virtue mean everything; that power and money, money and power mean nothing; that good always triumphs over evil …. Doesn’t matter if it’s true or not. You see, a man should believe in those things, because those are the things worth believing in.

My first reaction to the above words was negative, mainly because I think a person always ought to believe in only what is true. How could it be possible, let alone necessary, to believe in things that are not true? If every statement is either true or false (which I think is correct), why should we ever believe what is false?

There are, indeed, many “facts” that can readily be determined as either true or false. But so much of what we encounter in the world are not facts that can be scientifically verified. Often, we must affirm what we believe to be true without any assurance that those things are, in fact, true.

That certainly doesn’t mean we should believe things that we think are false, even though we must realize that whatever we believe might be false. That is far different, though, than believing things that are false.

Michael Polanyi’s book Personal Knowledge (1958) is on my list as one of the “top ten” most important non-fiction books that I have ever read. I spent numerous hours in graduate school reading and seeking to understand Polanyi’s thought. That study became foundational for my epistemology (= the study and understanding of knowledge).

Several years later, my first writing to appear in a published tome was the 18^th chapter of a book published as a Festschrift for Dr. Eric Rust, my major graduate school professor. The title of that chapter is “Scientific Knowledge as Personal Knowledge.”**

Thirty years later, in October 2009, “All Knowledge is Personal Knowledge” was the title of one of my earliest blog articles. In a comment further explaining my point, I wrote,

Knowledge is always tentative. And there is no proof; there is only belief. Thus, there is always the possibility of being wrong. One "can only believe something that might be false," says Polanyi—and he adds that that is his argument "in a nutshell" (Personal Knowledge, p. 312).

Even though everything we believe “might be false,” rather than embracing the idea that we are going to believe what we believe, whether it is true or not, Polanyi emphasizes the importance of “heuristic passion,” the ongoing desire to seek and to find what seems most likely to be true.

Perplexity AI summarizes well Polanyi’s concept of heuristic passion: “He thinks all knowing (from physics to ethics to theology) is personal, fiduciary, and fallible, and therefore always involves passionate commitment and an open‑ended search for deeper contact with reality.”

There is no place for the “lazy” stance of saying we are going to believe what we choose to believe whether it is true or not. No, since none of our core beliefs (including scientific beliefs) can be scientifically proved, we continually strive to examine those beliefs, driven by heuristic passion to seek more adequate, more comprehensive articulations of reality.

If heuristic passion for determining what is true and what is false is necessary for progressive Christians (such as I), it is certainly necessary (and maybe even more so) for secularists on the one hand and conservative evangelical Christians on the other.

_____

** The title of the book, edited by Robert E. Patterson, is Science, Faith and Revelation: An Approach to Christian Philosophy (Broadman Press,1979). Last month, my wife came across a long letter handwritten by Dr. Rust (over 45 years ago!) in which he thanked me for the essay I wrote about Polanyi for the Festschrift. 

Are You, Am I, “Popish”?

The solemn declaration of papal infallibility by the Roman Catholic Church (RCC) took place 150 years ago this week, on July 18, 1870.

The Meaning of Papal Infallibility

In the history of the RCC, there have been 21 “ecumenical councils,” the first being the Council of Nicaea in 325 and the last one was the Second Vatican Council in 1962~65.

Dictionary.com explains that the ecumenical councils of the RCC are “convoked and presided over by the pope and composed of cardinals, bishops, and certain other prelates whose decrees, when confirmed by the pope, become binding.”

The 20^th ecumenical council of the RCC was held in 1869~70, and the most important decision made in that solemn meeting was about papal infallibility.

Succinctly, the doctrine of papal infallibility means that when the Pope speaks “ex cathedra” (from the papal chair) on matters of faith and morals, by the power of the Holy Spirit that pronouncement is unfailingly without error.

Since that time, the only example of an ex cathedra decree took place in 1950, when Pope Pius XII defined the Assumption of Mary as an article of faith.

The Rejection of Papal Infallibility

It goes without saying, perhaps, that there has been universal rejection of the doctrine of papal infallibility by Protestants. In some circles, the response to the Catholic assertion of infallibility led to an emphasis on the inerrancy of the Bible, dubbed the “paper Pope” by some.

But there has also been some opposition within the Roman Catholic Church. One hundred years after the declaration of papal infallibility at Vatican I, Hans Küng wrote a book entitled Infallible? An Inquiry (published in 1971).

Several years later, in 1979, Küng was stripped of his license to teach as a Roman Catholic theologian, although he was able to continue teaching as a tenured professor of ecumenical theology at the University of Tübingen until his retirement in 1996.

The one example of the use of papal infallibility, the bodily taking up of Mary, the mother of Jesus, into Heaven at the end of her earthly life, tends to strengthen the non-Catholic rejection of the dogma.

Still, papal infallibility remains a dogma of the Roman Catholic Church. 

The Tendency toward “Popishness”

“Popish” is an offensive term that has from time to time been used by non-Catholics to refer derisively to the Roman Catholic Church.

But it is also sometimes used in a derogatory sense meaning to act or speak in a manner similar to the pope—a usage that is based on the common misunderstanding of the meaning of papal infallibility, that is, thinking the Pope is always right in whatever he says.

Some of us have strong ideas or beliefs that we think are absolutely right. Holding on to those ideas or beliefs despite strong counterarguments can cause one to be thought of or criticized as being “popish.”

There is nothing wrong with having strong ideas/beliefs, though. Michael Polanyi, one of my favorite philosophers, in his magnum opus Personal Knowledge (1958) referred to what he called “heuristic passion,” which then is turned into “persuasive passion.”

But Polanyi’s main emphasis is that all knowledge is “personal knowledge.” Consequently, we must always admit the possibility that we might be wrong.

We can avoid being “popish” if we keep in mind the paradoxical situation we are in: because of our heuristic passion we often are certain we are right and seek by persuasive passion to convince others of the truth we have embraced; nevertheless, we must acknowledge that, indeed, we might be wrong.

That’s how you, and I, can keep from being “popish.”

Is Proclaiming Jesus’ Resurrection Political Incorrect?

A few weeks ago I posted a blog article about political correctness. For the most part I favor the effort to be politically correct, for in its best form political correctness shows empathic understanding of those who are often discriminated against or belittled.

There was some questioning of a more recent article, though, along this very line. There was no direct reference to my not being P.C., but it was implied that what I wrote about the origins of Christianity and of Islam was problematic.

From the beginning I knew that there would likely be some pushback, for what I wrote could be used as an excuse to criticize, discriminate against, or mistreat Muslims today. I tried to counter that possibility by writing what I did in the final paragraph.

Christians around the world have just celebrated Easter (except for those in the Orthodox tradition who will not celebrate Easter until May 1). If there was, in fact, something historical about the resurrection of Jesus, Easter is an event that decisively differentiates Christianity from other religions.

Many have understood Jesus’ resurrection much too literally, seeing it is some sort of miraculous resuscitation of his physical body. That is not the kind of resurrection I am writing about.

On the other hand, many liberal Christian interpretations emphasize that Jesus’ resurrection was mainly metaphorical or “psychological” rather than historical. That is, it is explained as the “resurrection” of the spirit of Jesus in the hearts and minds of his early followers.

John Shelby Spong, for example, contends that the Jesus’ resurrection took place in Galilee, where the disciples had fled after Jesus’ crucifixion, rather than in Jerusalem, where Jesus had been buried in Joseph’s tomb.

Liberals need some way to explain the resurrection so Christianity can be considered just one religion among many that are equally valid and valuable.

That is not the kind of resurrection I am writing about either.

Recently, I have written a review of a book about the life and thought of Lesslie Newbigin. In that process I looked again at some of his notable writings, especially The Gospel in a Pluralist Society (1989). Newbigin (1909-98), an Englishman, was one of the premier missionaries and missiologists of the 20^th century. (Several years ago I wrote a blog article in praise of Newbigin.)

Newbigin repeatedly used the words “public truth” in referring to the Christian message, and one of his smaller books is titled Truth to Tell: The Gospel as Public Truth (1991). The idea of public truth, of course, stands in stark contrast to the relativistic idea of truth in post-modernism and often in liberal Christianity as well.

He wrestles with the problem of truth not just from the standpoint of religious faith but also epistemologically, making repeated references to the significance of Michael Polanyi’s emphasis on “personal knowledge.”

In Truth to Tell, Newbigin avers, “To believe that the crucified Jesus rose from the dead, left an empty tomb, and regrouped his scatted disciples for their world mission can only be the result of a very radical change of mind indeed.”

He goes on to assert that “the simple truth is that the resurrection cannot be accommodated in any way of understanding the world except one of which it is the starting point” (p. 10-11).

Belief in the Resurrection should never lead to arrogance, condescension, or triumphalism. That belief should, however, lead faithful Christians to have confidence in the uniqueness of Jesus and to proclaim, boldly and lovingly, the significance of that pivotal event—even though some might consider it politically incorrect.

All Knowledge Is Personal Knowledge

The "thinking friend" who made comments about my posting on what happens after death charges that I am actually a relativist in my thinking. He is partly right when it comes to epistemology, but I still maintain there are absolute truths. And I find his statement "all faiths are true for those particular adherents at a particular moment in history" to be highly questionable. Maybe the problem is how the term true is used, but I cannot agree that truth depends on subjective belief rather than upon the nature of objective reality. 

I still have not read Mark Heim's writing on this subject, but it seems completely unlikely that "our religious life/beliefs can create the afterlife we find following death." How could that possibly be? Belief in a heaven with streets of gold creates such a place? I cannot see how that could possibly be true. 

But if there is absolute Truth, as I affirm, how do we know such truth? Well, we don't know it absolutely. So here there is a lot of commonality between my protagonist and me. Our beliefs, and even our assertions, about what is true are relative, related to context, and not subject to proof. All knowledge is personal knowledge. 

The latter statement comes from the seminal work of the Hungarian scientist/philosopher Michael Polanyi (1891-1976). His Gifford Lectures given at the University of Aberdeen in 1951-52 were later published as Personal Knowledge (1958). In the 1960s, I spent many, many hours reading that difficult book and preparing a seminar paper on it. Later, I wrote an essay about Polanyi that was published as one chapter in Science, Faith, and Revelation (1979), edited by Bob E. Patterson. I wrote that chapter during the year we lived in Liberty in 1976-77. I was teaching part-time at William Jewell that year and remember well working on it in my provisional faculty office on the subfloor of the library. 

Polanyi states that the purpose of his book was "to achieve a frame of mind in which I may hold firmly to what I believe to be true, even though I know that it might conceivably be false" (Personal Knowledge, p. 214). That is an important frame of mind, I believe. But that does not mean falling into complete subjectivism or relativism. Polanyi also writes, convincingly, about the "intellectual passion" (also called the "heuristic passion") for finding truth and the "persuasive passion" by which one seeks to convince others of the truth discovered. 

As I am always seeking a valid position between polar extremes, through the years I have found Polanyi's position a viable one, standing between objectivism and subjectivism as well as between absolutism and relativism.