Fundamentalism: Whence? Where? Whither? Part 6 - Digression One: Really?
Digression One: Really?
Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, and Part 5.
Over several essays I have been attempting to describe the intellectual and social influences that were operating within the early fundamentalist movement. One of the earliest essays offered an overview of Scottish Common Sense Realism in which I suggested that most early Fundamentalists (among others) absorbed this philosophy from their intellectual milieu. Furthermore, I argued that Common Sense Realism had a definite and rather negative effect upon Fundamentalism.
Numbers of people have written to inform me of my several mistakes. The first is supposed to be that Common Sense Realism isn’t really anything new because people have always made their real decisions on the basis of common sense. The second is that Common Sense Realism could not have affected early Fundamentalists all that much because they were Biblicists and not philosophers. The third is that the effects of Common Sense Realism cannot be as dire as I hinted.
In the present essay I wish to respond only to the first objection. The second really requires no response except to refer the reader to the rather substantial literature on the subject.1 The third merits a separate discussion.
Is it true ordinary people (as opposed to philosophers) have always acted on the basis of common sense? One fellow in particular was quite definite. “If you see a cow in a field,” he said, “You can just point to it and say, ‘That’s a cow.’” As far as he was concerned, this is just common sense, and it describes the way that people have always thought and acted.
No.
As it happens, I have some experience with this very question. I can recall standing beside a pasture with a city boy, who pointed to the large bovine and said, “That’s a big cow.” Actually, it was not. It was a bull.
When I pointed out the disparity, his retort was, “You know what I mean!” No, I did not. The only thing that I knew was what he actually said. I could guess that perhaps his vocabulary was so limited that the word cow was the only term he possessed to denote a bovine. Or I could speculate (and this was more likely) that he either did not know how to tell the difference between a cow and a bull or that the details had escaped his attention. I did not know what he meant, and it is quite possible—likely, even—that he didn’t either. It is quite possible that his remark was thoughtless.
The declaration, “That’s a cow,” seems like a simple and straightforward act, but it is nothing of the kind. It is an elaborate act of interpretation and predication. Interpretation involves identifying several points on one’s mental grid (existence, quantity, definiteness, identity, etc.) with external realities. The act of predication connects and communicates these points in a particular way.
If the last paragraph lost you, let me restate: we never perceive reality without interpreting it. More precisely, we never perceive reality until we have already interpreted it. The only reality that we notice and the only reality that we know is always and already interpreted. In short, there are no brute facts.
Reality is always and already interpreted. The ancients understood this. It was an axiom for the Greeks and Romans. It was part of the “discarded image” of the medieval world. Prior to modernity people assumed that what we perceive is not what is, but what we have understood it to be.
Because of this assumption, people were aware that real or ultimate reality might not match their perceptions. A Greek, looking at a swan or a pile of gold, was keenly conscious that he just might be looking at Zeus. A Hebrew, encountering a stranger at his door, knew that such a visitor might be an angel, or even God Himself. A man with a sword might turn out to be Jehovah, come as captain of the Lord’s host. A hillside might appear to be empty, but who knew what chariots of fire might occupy it unseen?
For premoderns, the universe was numinous. The transcendent and supernatural were always just around the corner. The seams of reality were straining with the unperceived, and you had best be prepared.
Indeed, premoderns perceived some element of transcendence in ordinary objects. They habitually looked beyond what they saw, because every object signified something beyond itself. The perceived object was rarely or never considered as an ultimate (real) reality, but normally as a shadow or image of a greater reality. Right perception always looked through and beyond the thing to the reality that it shadowed. So, to perceive water truly was to perceive something about purity. To perceive gold truly was to perceive something about heaven. To perceive fire truly was to perceive something about hell.2
The chief characteristic of the premodern mind was its humility. Premoderns understood that the world as they perceived it was always and already interpreted. They knew that the scope of actual reality was so vast as to lie beyond their ability to grasp. Without such a grasp of the whole, they recognized that their perceptions of the particulars were so limited and local as inevitably to be misleading. They realized that particulars were meaningful only within the context of the whole, and they knew that they themselves lacked access to any immediate perception of the whole.
What they needed was help from outside. They needed an overall grasp of the structure of the whole, but this grasp could not be derived from their immediate perception of finite particulars. Ancient thinkers such as Plato and Aristotle hoped to gain some glimpse of the whole through the methods of philosophical enquiry. Christians, however, believed that only God enjoyed a comprehensive view of reality. Consequently, they looked to God for a revelation of the whole. Only in view of that revelation could the particulars be placed within a context that would make the true interpretation apparent. So Christians humbled themselves, bent their minds before revelation, and accepted God and His communication as a starting point for true knowledge of the world.3
For premoderns, reality was not only ordered but also transcendent. It could not be understood from inside. It had to be viewed from above. Without the context provided by a transcendent overview, no particular could be known as it really ought to be. This transcendent overview was the Truth, and it had to be apprehended by faith.
In other words, for premoderns, truth came before facts and faith was primary. Only through faith could the Truth be appropriated, and only in view of the Truth could facts be understood rightly. The Truth provided a context without which the right facts would never be noticed or, if noticed, would never be rightly construed. For premoderns, the Truth was up there.
Modernity, epitomized by Common Sense Realism, shifted the focus from the transcendent to the immanent and, correspondingly, from the primacy of faith to the primacy of doubt.4 Moderns no longer believed that the Truth was up there; they now assumed that the truth was out there. If any transcendent reality existed, then it had to be accessed through and justified by factors within perceived reality. The priority of Truth was abandoned and facts took center stage. The priority of faith was discarded and doubt became the vehicle that drove the acquisition of knowledge. Nothing could be believed that was not a demonstrable fact, but if only enough facts could be gathered and if only they could be observed long enough, then the truth was sure to emerge.
Common Sense Realism, in particular, abandoned the priority of the transcendent. By equating perceptions with reality, Common Sense Realists did not necessarily deny the transcendent, but they did subordinate knowledge of the transcendent to the acquisition of facts. The facts were assumed to be self-interpreting. The Common Sense notion of reality was essentially “What You See Is What You Get.”
This massive intellectual shift was absorbed by American Christians during the Nineteenth Century. It was a primary component in the intellectual atmosphere out of which Fundamentalism emerged. How it affected Fundamentalism and other forms of evangelicalism is a topic worth discussing separately. To that subject we shall turn in the next essay.
1. The influence of Scottish Common Sense Realism has been a commonplace of American intellectual history since at least the mid-to-late 1970s. Ernest R. Sandeen, writing in 1970, recognizes the influence of Common Sense Realism upon Princeton theology, but does not explore it deeply, in The Roots of Fundamentalism: British and American Millennarianism, 1800, 1930 (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1970), 115. Claude Welch traces the influence of Scottish Philosophy in both New England Theology (specifically Nathaniel Taylor) and Princeton theology (specifically Charles Hodge) in Protestant Thought in the Nineteenth Century: Volume I, 1799-1870 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1972), 131, 202, et al. John R. Fitzmier discusses the combination of Edwardsian theology and Common Sense Philosophy to be found in Edwards’s grandson, Timothy Dwight: New England’s Moral Legislator: Timothy Dwight, 1752-1817 (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1998). Paul F. Boller Jr. notes the interaction of Unitarians and Transcendentalists with Common Sense Realism, and their exposure to it in the educational mainstream, in American Transcendentalism 1830-1860: An Intellectual Inquiry (New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 1974), 42-44, 181. George M. Marsden first articulated the importance of Common Sense Realism for understanding Fundamentalism; his summary statement may be found in Fundamentalism and American Culture (New York: Oxford University Press, 1982), 14-16. Mark Noll exhibits primary sources that illustrate the influence of Common Sense Realism in Princeton theology in The Princeton Theology 1812-1921 (Grand Rapids: Baker Book House, 1983, 2001), passim. David B. Calhoun notes, “At Princeton—as in much of early Nineteenth Century Protestantism—Scottish Common Sense Philosophy reigned. Congregationalists at Yale and Unitarians at Harvard embraced it nearly as enthusiastically as did Presbyterian Princeton.” He insists that the Princetonians “saw Scottish Common Sense Philosophy as setting forth the universal and permanent truths,” Princeton Seminary: The Magnificent Testimony 1869-1929 (Carlisle, Penn.: Banner of Truth Trust, 1996), 413. For an evaluation of the relationship between Common Sense Realism and Reformed theology at Princeton, consult Tim McConnel in “The Old Princeton Apologetics: Common Sense or Reformed?” in Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society (December 2003), 647-671. While nearly everyone acknowledges the influence of Common Sense Realism upon American theology (and especially Princeton) during the Nineteenth Century, the exact nature of the influence is a subject of debate. See Peter Hicks, The Philosophy of Charles Hodge: A 19th Century Evangelical Approach to Reason, Knowledge, and Truth (Lewiston, N.Y.: Edwin Mellen, 1997). Many of Hicks’s insights are incorporated into Paul Kjoss Helseth, “ ‘Re-Imagining’ the Princeton Mind: Postconservative Evangelicalism, Old Princeton, and the Rise of Neo-Fundamentalism,” in Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society (September 2002), 427-450. To see how Common Sense influenced a significant Fundamentalist leader through the Princeton tradition, see Darryl G. Hart, “The Princeton Mind in the Modern World and the Common Sense of J. Gresham Machen” in Westminster Theological Journal (Spring 1984), 1-25. James E. Bradley revisits the theme of Common Sense Realism, setting it in a broader context of influences, in “The Nineteenth Century,” in D. G. Hart and R. Albert Mohler Jr., eds., Theological Education in the Evangelical Tradition (Grand Rapids: Baker Book House, 1996), 148ff. Joel Carpenter notes the influence of Scottish Common Sense Realism on the Fundamentalism of the1920s through the 1940s in Revive Us Again: The Reawakening of American Fundamentalism (New York: Oxford University Press, 1997), 36, 72. Mark Noll traces the influence of Common Sense Philosophy into contemporary evangelicalism and Fundamentalism in The Scandal of the Evangelical Mind (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1995), passim. He also has an article devoted exclusively to the subject, “Common Sense Traditions and American Evangelical Thought,” American Quarterly 37 (Summer 1985), 216-238. A recent recitation of the effects of Common Sense Realism upon evangelical theology can be found in Lindon J. DeBie, Speculative Theology and Common Sense Religion: Mercersburg and the Conservative Roots of American Religion (Eugene, Ore.: Wipf and Stock / Pickwick Publications, 2008). For an evangelical scholar who believes that the embracing of Common Sense categories was a good thing, see Robert L. Thomas, “The Nature of Truth: Postmodern or Propositional?” in Masters Seminary Journal (Spring 2007), 3-21.
2. Please note that these descriptions—and indeed, this entire discussion—are an almost inexcusable simplification of the premodern metaphysical dream. Those who are interested in understanding it more comprehensively might begin with C. S. Lewis, The Discarded Image: An Introduction to Medieval and Renaissance Literature (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1964). Among medievalists, Lewis’s work is regarded as a bit dated today, but it remains a very accessible introduction to the medieval mind.
3. Readers may believe that they recognize in my description the characteristics of Dutch Neo-Reformed thinking as advocated by Abraham Kuyper, Cornelius Van Til, and their followers. I confess that I find much in Presuppositionalism that rings true. What I am describing in this essay, however, is a way of thinking about reality that antedates the Reformation and that was once shared by virtually all Christians. Van Til did not invent this perspective.
4. Students of philosophy might wonder about the relationship of Immanuel Kant to the intellectual environment of the period. Kant did revert to the distinction between reality and perception (noumenon and phenomenon), but he continued to reject the priority of the transcendent and the primacy of faith. Rather than allowing faith to stand as the basis of knowing, Kant effectively divided faith from knowing and put the two in airtight compartments. Most of subsequent Western philosophy (and theology!) is a long series of attempts to resolve this division. Once Kant’s structures were in place, however, more and more of what used to be considered knowledge was redefined as faith, and faith was re-imagined as assumption. The philosophical structures proposed by Kant fostered the discipline of phenomenology and eventually opened the door for postmodernism. Kant may be regarded as the first modern to critique modernity (though some have understood Hume to be doing the same thing). The main difference between Kant and the later postmoderns is that Kant had not yet abandoned his optimism.
A Hymn to my God in a Night of my Late Sicknesse
Sir Henry Wotton (1568-1639)
Oh thou great Power, in whom I move,
For whom I live, to whom I die,
Behold me through thy beams of love,
Whilst on this couch of fears I lye;
And Cleanse my sordid soul within,
By thy Christs Blood, the bath of sin.
No hallowed Oyls, no grains I need,
No rags of Saints, no purging fire,
One rosie drop from David’s Seed
Was worlds of Seas, to quench thine Ire.
O precious Ransome! which once paid,
That Consummatum est was said.
And said by him, that said no more,
But seal’d it with his sacred Breath.
Thou then, that hast dispung’d my score,
And dying, wast the death of Death;
Be to me now, on thee I call,
My Life, my Strength, my Joy, my All.
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I wish I could say I’ve read alot of Burke but only enough to make Red sound quite familiar. I do share Burke’s apparent impatience with philosophizing that has too much distance between it and what’s happening on the ground (to use a more current metaphor).
(Edit: Burke died in late 1700’s so I’m pretty sure he had absorbed a fare amount of Enlightenment rationalism, but he seems to have been very respectful of revealed truth… if we’ve got a Burke scholar reading, I’d love to know if he interacted at all with Common Sense Realism)
Also, about “numinous” and superstition… somebody reacted to my statements on that earlier. Just to clarify, I was comparing pre-modern to modern. I don’t think the pre-moderns were all wrong by a long shot! The world is indeed numinous. But my point was that the premoderns were not all right either and one of their failings was superstition. Something goes bump in the night and it’s gotta be the Devil… or a shade or something. Nowadays we’re closer to the truth: something probably fell over. The error of rationalism or unrestrained common sense is that it says the bump in the night must have a purely naturalistic cause. That’s not what I mean when I say common sense. To me, common sense affirms that there is more to the world than meets the eye, because things happen that cannot explained rationally. So I’m of the opinion that it’s very rational to believe that rationality has limits… pretty substantial ones.
(Actually, I need to qualify that one more time: I think pre-moderns before the middle ages might well have been less inclined than the medievals to explain the bump in the night in mysterious spiritual terms. I can’t back this up w/hard research (yet) but I think one reason Common Sense Realism seems like such a dramatic departure to many is that common sense took such a beating during the middle ages… but it probably started well before that. Still, I think there is a place somewhere back there where people are being more sensible in general, especially God-fearing people who understood there was not a different god in charge of every little aspect of life!)
Views expressed are always my own and not my employer's, my church's, my family's, my neighbors', or my pets'. The house plants have authorized me to speak for them, however, and they always agree with me.
[Mike Durning] OK. After talking with a few friends, I believe that what Dr. Bauder is preparing for is to build a case that we are not sufficiently “revelational” in Fundamentalism. The move from pre-modern to modern cost us something (a regard for that which is not seen) just as it gained us some things.I can believe that. And if “revelationism” is seen as a corrective to premodern thought just as it is to modern and post-modern thought, I’d greet that warmly.
Views expressed are always my own and not my employer's, my church's, my family's, my neighbors', or my pets'. The house plants have authorized me to speak for them, however, and they always agree with me.
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But I do see Dr. Bauder’s point in the field of chemistry. Premodern alchemists were convinced that chemical transformations were spiritual occurrences. Such that if they applied their theology properly, the result would be to make gold from lesser materials.
They could, after all, make some materials into others, clearly a miraculous thing. Now, in modern times, we know that it isn’t a miracle. We’ve explained the chemical processes. Laws of creation are not violated. No miracle is occurring.
Alchemy is, then, numinous chemistry.
What I end up asking myself is, are we better off with chemistry or alchemy?
How do we know?
And does this relate back to theology?
Luther, for example, understood more to be supernaturally demonic. Note the third verse of “A Mighty Fortress” it, along with the first two verses, are an example of pre-modern (representational) thought:
And though this world, with devils filled, should threaten to undo us, we will not fear, for God hath willed his truth to triumph through us. The Prince of Darkness grim, we tremble not for him; his rage we can endure, for lo, his doom is sure; one little word shall fell him.To my way of thinking, Luther may have attributed too much to the supernatural forces of evil; perhaps many of us have been so affected by Common Sense Realism that we attribute too little?
I am really enjoying Dr. Bauder’s articles. Though I disagreed with the second one, they have got us thinking and discussing in new, expanded directions at SI. We needed this shot in the arm.
"The Midrash Detective"
[Ed Vasicek] Luther, for example, understood more to be supernaturally demonic. Note the third verse of “A Mighty Fortress” it, along with the first two verses, are an example of pre-modern (representational) thought:I think the answer is yes for some, and no for others. For my part, I believe Mighty Fortress is quite accurate and the world is “with devils filled.” They just happen to operate in more subtle ways than they once did. But your question highlights another reason why I’m skeptical that Common Sense Realism really has all that much to do with the theological drift and shallowness of the age. Why would Common Sense Realists (or those strongly influences by them) birth something like the spiritual warfare movement, or—for that matter—the pentecostalism of Azusa street and the later Charismatic movement? I’ll hazard that few would deny these have been major forces in shaping evangelicalism in the 20th century and fundamentalism has not been wholly unaffected either. Doesn’t look like “what you see is what is and nothing more” thinking to me.And though this world, with devils filled, should threaten to undo us, we will not fear, for God hath willed his truth to triumph through us. The Prince of Darkness grim, we tremble not for him; his rage we can endure, for lo, his doom is sure; one little word shall fell him.To my way of thinking, Luther may have attributed too much to the supernatural forces of evil; perhaps many of us have been so affected by Common Sense Realism that we attribute too little?
Views expressed are always my own and not my employer's, my church's, my family's, my neighbors', or my pets'. The house plants have authorized me to speak for them, however, and they always agree with me.
Although I hate alliteration, it does make for a nice (and probably extremely over-simplistic) outline:
premodernity: representationalism
modernity: rationalism
postmodernity: relativism
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Greg Long, Ed.D. (SBTS)
Pastor of Adult Ministries
Grace Church, Des Moines, IA
Adjunct Instructor
School of Divinity
Liberty University
[Aaron Blumer] [Quote=Dan Miller] What I end up asking myself is, are we better off with chemistry or alchemy?Wouldn’t you say that we’re better off—not only from our point of view but also from God’s—wherever the truth is? This is why I raised the question earlier (in ref. to premoderns and superstition) does it make a difference whether they were right or not? Which is really a different way of asking Paul Scharf’s question, why is medieval thinking the baseline? (Or have we misread there and it isn’t the baseline?)
…Of course, my first reaction is that of course we’re better off with an understanding of modern chemistry.
But why?
That’s the point, I think. We’re not really discussing “Which is better, Alchemy or Chemistry?” Rather, we’re discussing, “How does one know which is better between something like Alchemy or Chemistry?” (Remember Dr. Bauder’s reaction to our reaction to the guy who was saying that the earth doesn’t move?)
If someone claims that alchemy better represents a theological interpretation of the physical world, and never mind what you think you see and understand, how should we respond?
Or if someone claims that Geocentrism better represents a Biblical view of the earth, and never mind what you think you see and understand, how should we respond?
True, modern thinkers quite quickly respond with physical evidence. But why should physical evidence be trusted, if we must look beyond what we see and understand that humility demands that we distrust our observation and understanding?
(A “while” later…) I think they pose an interesting problem for those who are down on Common Sense Realism. Not that big of a problem for those who commend “disciplined common sense.” Because in the case of the latter, you really need some kind of reason to believe that what is observed is not what it seems.
Views expressed are always my own and not my employer's, my church's, my family's, my neighbors', or my pets'. The house plants have authorized me to speak for them, however, and they always agree with me.
[Greg Long] Could someone explain to me or point me to an online source explaining the concept of “representationalism” as it relates to pre-modern thought?You should preach this, Greg. I guarantee that you would get invited to lots of conferences and hailed as a prophet in our times. Such insight!
Although I hate alliteration, it does make for a nice (and probably extremely over-simplistic) outline:
premodernity: representationalism
modernity: rationalism
postmodernity: relativism
My Blog: http://dearreaderblog.com
Cor meum tibi offero Domine prompte et sincere. ~ John Calvin
[Charlie]Thanks, Charlie! “All you need to know about the history of western thought in three easy, alliterated points.”[Greg Long] Could someone explain to me or point me to an online source explaining the concept of “representationalism” as it relates to pre-modern thought?You should preach this, Greg. I guarantee that you would get invited to lots of conferences and hailed as a prophet in our times. Such insight!
Although I hate alliteration, it does make for a nice (and probably extremely over-simplistic) outline:
premodernity: representationalism
modernity: rationalism
postmodernity: relativism
But just remember…always avoid alliteration.
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Greg Long, Ed.D. (SBTS)
Pastor of Adult Ministries
Grace Church, Des Moines, IA
Adjunct Instructor
School of Divinity
Liberty University
So, this raises a question:
Are these critics right to connect (Princetonian) verbal inspiration and SCSR?
If yes, then it would seem difficult to critique SCSR from a Fundamentalist position, as you are doing.
If no, then it would seem that their other criticisms of SCSR, which you are repeating, may also be called into question. After all, if they messed up that badly in that part of their analysis, why should we trust the rest of their theories?
I write this not to say “gotcha!” but because I’m sure that you must have faced this difficulty before you wrote this series, and you must have worked out some kind of solution as to which elements of their analysis you can accept. I would like to know your solution, because I feel caught in some of the inconsistency of my own thinking toward this matter. Of course, I understand that a full discussion of this issue may be beyond the boundaries of what you can write for a public audience, so I sent you a private message through the SI system requesting your assistance. (I thought, though, that the SI general public might be interested in the content of this post, so it is also appearing in the forum.)
My Blog: http://dearreaderblog.com
Cor meum tibi offero Domine prompte et sincere. ~ John Calvin
Those are excellent questions. I had similar thoughts, but you expressed it well.
Church Ministries Representative, serving in the Midwest, for The Friends of Israel Gospel Ministry
Church Ministries Representative, serving in the Midwest, for The Friends of Israel Gospel Ministry
“Consequently, they [Christians] looked to God for a revelation of the whole. Only in view of that revelation could the particulars be placed within a context that would make the true interpretation apparent. So Christians humbled themselves, bent their minds before revelation, and accepted God and His communication as a starting point for true knowledge of the world.”
I respectfully aver that this is a idealized picture of Christian history. Where, I wonder, are such Christians to be found in the ancient church? Not Augustine; he was too influenced by neo-Platonism to shift from his thinking the unbiblical dichotomy between spiritual and material. The physical creation was second best to him, and to so many great men of the time (e.g. Athanasius; the Cappadocians).
Any reader of Colin Gunton’s works knows that the doctrine of creation, which is absolutely essential to a proper “revelational epistemology” (Van Til’s term) faired poorly in the early church up until the time of Calvin (Institutes 1.1f.). Alongside of this was the well documented influence of “the Rule of Faith” (Tradition) that had encrusted itself upon the reading of the Scriptures at least from the time of Irenaeus and Tertullian (despite his ‘Prescription’). Sola Scriptura is not an early church doctrine. Add to this the knock-on effects of an under-developed doctrine of the Holy Spirit (at least until Athanasius’s ‘Letters to Serapion’) and the slow progress this doctrine endured partly because of a wrong view of transcendence, and I think we come up short of Dr Bauder’s paragraph.
Finally, saying that the ancient peoples (saved or lost) had a backdrop of transcendence (which was, therefore, humble) is to say nothing but that they were more superstitious. The Creator-creature distinction was just as thoughtlessly ignored by the Greeks and other Pre-Moderns as it is by Richard Dawkins. Any transcendence they held to was either pantheistic or panentheistic (Plato) or functional (Aristotle). It was not the biblical view of transcendence, which refers principally to God’s Lordship over His creatures.
Dr. Paul Henebury
I am Founder of Telos Ministries, and Senior Pastor at Agape Bible Church in N. Ca.
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