Theology and religious studies in the university: 'Some ambiguities' revisited

Religion

Volumn 26, Issue 1, 1996, Pages 49-68

  Dawes, Gregory W ^a  

^a UNIVERSITY OF OTAGO   (New Zealand)

Author keywords

[No Author keywords available]

Indexed keywords

EID: 0042860023     PISSN: 0048721X     EISSN: None     Source Type: Journal    
DOI: 10.1006/reli.1996.0004     Document Type: Article

References (138)

1. Elizabeth Isichei, 'Some ambiguities in the academic study of religion', Religion 23 (1993), pp. 379-90.
2. ibid., p. 387.
3. ibid.
4. cf. Charles Davis, 'The reconvergence of theology and religious studies', Studies in Religion 4 (1975), p. 205.
5. A. D. Galloway. 'Theology and religious studies - the unity of our discipline', Religious Studies 11 (1975), p. 163. Galloway preserves a distinction between the task of religious studies and that of theology (the former being 'the phenomenological/hermeneutical aspect of our discipline', the latter being 'the question of the truth or validity' of religious expressions), but argues that 'the two activities belong together' (ibid., p. 160).
6. A. D. Galloway. 'Theology and religious studies - the unity of our discipline', Religious Studies 11 (1975), p. 163. Galloway preserves a distinction between the task of religious studies and that of theology (the former being 'the phenomenological/hermeneutical aspect of our discipline', the latter being 'the question of the truth or validity' of religious expressions), but argues that 'the two activities belong together' (ibid., p. 160).
7. Harold Turner, 'Questions - hard and otherwise - for religious studies in New Zealand universities', Colloquium 24 (1992), p. 23.
8. Donald Wiebe, 'The failure of nerve in the academic study of religion', Studies in Religion/Sciences Religieuses 13 (1984), pp. 401-22.
9. Donald Wiebe, 'Is a science of religion possible?' Studies in Religion/Sciences Religieuses 7 (1978), p. 16.
10. Donald Wiebe, 'Explanation and the scientific study of religion', Religion 5 (1975), pp. 46-7.
11. Wiebe, 'Failure of nerve', p. 421.
12. For instance, he writes (Wiebe, 'Explanation', p. 46) that a 'science of religion', to be scientific, would have to be 'critical as over against theological (i.e. working simply from theological precept, norms, etc.)'
13. Ninian Smart, Secular Education and the Logic of Religion, London, Faber and Faber 1968, p. 12.
14. ibid., p. 13.
15. ibid., p. 106.
16. ibid., p. 14.
17. ibid., p. 106.
18. ibid., p. 14.
19. Ninian Smart and Steven Konstantine, Christian Systematic Theology in a World Context, World Christian Theology, Marshall Pickering, Harper Collins 1990.
20. ibid., pp. 32-3.
21. ibid., p. 19. When Smart and Konstantine (ibid., p. 34) speak of the way in which 'worldview analysis' may address the question of truth, they express the desire that this not be called 'theology', preferring to style it 'religious reflection'.
22. ibid., p. 19. When Smart and Konstantine (ibid., p. 34) speak of the way in which 'worldview analysis' may address the question of truth, they express the desire that this not be called 'theology', preferring to style it 'religious reflection'.
23. The metaphor of 'bracketing' in regard to questions of religious truth seems to be derived from the work of Edmund Husserl (1859-1938), the originator of the 'phenomenological' movement in philosophy. Taking as his starting point the work of Descartes, Husserl called for the creation of a first philosophy by means of a 'ubiquitous detachment from any point of view regarding the objective world' (The Paris Lectures, The Hague, Martinus Nijhoff 1975, p. 8). This process by which we 'suspend' or 'bracket' our natural beliefs and commitments is what Husserl refers to as the phenomenological epoché. Does the fact that religious studies began life in many places (including my own university) as 'the phenomenology of religion' indicate a dependence upon Husserl's thought? While Rudolf Otto does not seem to have been directly dependent upon Husserl, his call to the reader of his pioneering work The Idea of the Holy (transl. John W. Harvey, Oxford, Oxford University Press 1923, p. 8) 'to direct his mind to a moment of deeply felt religious consciousness, as little as possible qualified by other forms of consciousness' is certainly Husserlian in tone. In a recent work Ninian Smart (Religion and the Western Mind, London, Macmillan 1987, p. 3) acknowledges his dependence upon Husserl for the use of the term 'bracketing', but also claims that 'the practice and the message differ from his'. A complete evaluation of the traditional insistence upon 'neutrality' in religious studies would involve an assessment of the degree to which this insistence is dependent upon Husserl, and a subsequent evaluation of Husserl's project. If the phenomenological approach to religious studies has been widely abandoned (as it has), what implications does this have for the practice of 'bracketing'?
24. The metaphor of 'bracketing' in regard to questions of religious truth seems to be derived from the work of Edmund Husserl (1859-1938), the originator of the 'phenomenological' movement in philosophy. Taking as his starting point the work of Descartes, Husserl called for the creation of a first philosophy by means of a 'ubiquitous detachment from any point of view regarding the objective world' (The Paris Lectures, The Hague, Martinus Nijhoff 1975, p. 8). This process by which we 'suspend' or 'bracket' our natural beliefs and commitments is what Husserl refers to as the phenomenological epoché. Does the fact that religious studies began life in many places (including my own university) as 'the phenomenology of religion' indicate a dependence upon Husserl's thought? While Rudolf Otto does not seem to have been directly dependent upon Husserl, his call to the reader of his pioneering work The Idea of the Holy (transl. John W. Harvey, Oxford, Oxford University Press 1923, p. 8) 'to direct his mind to a moment of deeply felt religious consciousness, as little as possible qualified by other forms of consciousness' is certainly Husserlian in tone. In a recent work Ninian Smart (Religion and the Western Mind, London, Macmillan 1987, p. 3) acknowledges his dependence upon Husserl for the use of the term 'bracketing', but also claims that 'the practice and the message differ from his'. A complete evaluation of the traditional insistence upon 'neutrality' in religious studies would involve an assessment of the degree to which this insistence is dependent upon Husserl, and a subsequent evaluation of Husserl's project. If the phenomenological approach to religious studies has been widely abandoned (as it has), what implications does this have for the practice of 'bracketing'?
25. The metaphor of 'bracketing' in regard to questions of religious truth seems to be derived from the work of Edmund Husserl (1859-1938), the originator of the 'phenomenological' movement in philosophy. Taking as his starting point the work of Descartes, Husserl called for the creation of a first philosophy by means of a 'ubiquitous detachment from any point of view regarding the objective world' (The Paris Lectures, The Hague, Martinus Nijhoff 1975, p. 8). This process by which we 'suspend' or 'bracket' our natural beliefs and commitments is what Husserl refers to as the phenomenological epoché. Does the fact that religious studies began life in many places (including my own university) as 'the phenomenology of religion' indicate a dependence upon Husserl's thought? While Rudolf Otto does not seem to have been directly dependent upon Husserl, his call to the reader of his pioneering work The Idea of the Holy (transl. John W. Harvey, Oxford, Oxford University Press 1923, p. 8) 'to direct his mind to a moment of deeply felt religious consciousness, as little as possible qualified by other forms of consciousness' is certainly Husserlian in tone. In a recent work Ninian Smart (Religion and the Western Mind, London, Macmillan 1987, p. 3) acknowledges his dependence upon Husserl for the use of the term 'bracketing', but also claims that 'the practice and the message differ from his'. A complete evaluation of the traditional insistence upon 'neutrality' in religious studies would involve an assessment of the degree to which this insistence is dependent upon Husserl, and a subsequent evaluation of Husserl's project. If the phenomenological approach to religious studies has been widely abandoned (as it has), what implications does this have for the practice of 'bracketing'?
26. cf. Virgil's comment (Georges ii 490), Felix qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas ('Happy the one who has been able to discover the causes of things'). Two lines later in the Georges Virgil writes, fortunatus et ille deos qui novit agrestis ('blessed is also the one who knows the gods of the countryside'). It is unclear how these aims are to be reconciled, or what relationship each bears to Virgil's own attitude.
27. Ernst and Marie-Luise Keller, Mirades in Dispute: A Continuing Debate, London, SCM 1969, p. 179.
28. Pheme Perkins. Resurrection: New Testament Witness and Contemporary Reflection, London, Geoffrey Chapman 1984, p. 320.
29. Andrew Woodfield (Teleology, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press 1976, p. 3) notes that 'modern science is on the whole hostile to teleological explanations [explanations in terms of final causes]. That they are obscurantist and unempirical has been the dominant view among scientists ever since the Renaissance'. But it is also true that science can provide no decisive arguments against teleological explanations; they simply fall outside its methods. They are not 'explanations' in the scientific sense. Thus the traditional conflicts between science and religion have arisen (a) when theologians have attempted to give explanations of a scientific type, or (b) when philosophers of a scientific bent (one thinks of the 'logical positivists' of earlier this century) have denied legitimacy to the type of knowledge theology claims to offer.
30. The attempt to invoke God as a causal factor in the development of the world lingers on in the efforts of what its proponents call 'creation science' to do cosmology from the book of Genesis. It may be that such people are themselves too much in thrall to modernity's notions of what constitutes 'explanation'.
31. As Michael C. Banner (The Justification of Science and the Rationality of Religious Belief, Oxford, Clarendon 1990, pp. 122-3) points out, 'theistic explanation is a species of personal explanation, where we explain an event E as brought about intentionally by a rational agent P'. He suggests that while this form of explanation is not reducible to the deductive-nomological pattern which Carl Hempel argues is characteristic of scientific explanation, even scientific explanations do not always conform to this model.
32. If such questions seem out of place in the academy, they are no more out of place than, for example, the very similar questions posed by the moral philosopher. Academics who are accustomed to hypotheses which are quantifiable and able to be tested may find these issues difficult to handle. Those who have attempted to teach ethics in the Medical School or the Faculty of Commerce will testify to this difficulty. But questions of significance, value and purpose will not go away, and the theologian is among those who will attempt to raise and answer such questions.
33. Schubert M. Ogden, 'Theology and religious studies: their difference and the difference it makes', Journal of the American Academy of Religion 46 (1978), p. 4.
34. ibid., pp. 4-5. Ogden goes on to note that the apparent dilemma arises from this particular way of charcaterizing the method of theology, a conviction which I share.
35. For a recent discussion and defence of the idea of 'neutrality' in this field, see Peter Donovan 'Neutrality in religious studies', Religious Studies 26 (1990), pp. 103-16.
36. Lloyd Geering, 'Colin Brown: in appreciation' in James Veitch (ed.) To Strive and Not to Yield: Essays in Honour of Colin Brown, Victoria Studies in Religion and Society 1, Wellington, Victoria University 1992, p. 18.
37. ibid.
38. The use of the word 'truth' in this context raises another question, that of the degree of realism which the theologian attributes to religious statements. Not even ancient theologians were uncritical realists. Professor Isichei ('Some Ambiguities', p. 386) cites Paul Tillich's dictum that 'God is a metaphor for God': it is an idea with which Thomas Aquinas would surely have been in sympathy. By speaking of religious 'truth', I am not assuming a realist notion of truth. There are theologians who suggest that religious language refers to nothing other than the realities which are described - very differently - by the natural and human sciences. One may disagree with such a position, but those who hold this position are no less theologians for holding it. This is a debate within theology, such as we find in Michael Banner's discussion (Justification, cf. note 27 above, pp. 70-95) of 'expressive' as opposed to 'intellectualist' understandings of religion. It has its parallels within the philosophy of science in the discussions about the status of scientific theories (debates between, for instance, 'realists' and 'instrumentalists'), so that once again the theologian need not feel lonely in academe.
39. The use of the word 'truth' in this context raises another question, that of the degree of realism which the theologian attributes to religious statements. Not even ancient theologians were uncritical realists. Professor Isichei ('Some Ambiguities', p. 386) cites Paul Tillich's dictum that 'God is a metaphor for God': it is an idea with which Thomas Aquinas would surely have been in sympathy. By speaking of religious 'truth', I am not assuming a realist notion of truth. There are theologians who suggest that religious language refers to nothing other than the realities which are described - very differently - by the natural and human sciences. One may disagree with such a position, but those who hold this position are no less theologians for holding it. This is a debate within theology, such as we find in Michael Banner's discussion (Justification, cf. note 27 above, pp. 70-95) of 'expressive' as opposed to 'intellectualist' understandings of religion. It has its parallels within the philosophy of science in the discussions about the status of scientific theories (debates between, for instance, 'realists' and 'instrumentalists'), so that once again the theologian need not feel lonely in academe.
40. Smart, Secular Education, p. 13 (see note 12 above).
41. This threefold classification of the study of religion echoes that of Arthur C. McGill's essay ('The ambiguous position of Christian theology' in The Study of Religion in Colleges and Universities, Paul Ramsey and John F. Wilson (eds), Princeton, NJ, Princeton University Press 1970, pp. 105-38). McGill speaks of the differing approaches of (a) the philosophy of religion, (b) religious studies as a descriptive discipline, and (c) theology. The description of theology as a discipline which serves 'the interests of the religious and not the rational posture' (ibid., p. 133) is perhaps debatable. (Are these mutually exclusive aims?) I agree that theology can offer something of 'a challenge to rational autonomy', but would want to argue that this is not a challenge to rationality as such, but a challenge to a rationality too narrowly conceived. As Michael Banner writes (Justification, p. 184), 'argument here [in the realm of theology] may be demanding of sympathy and understanding in a way which is not characteristic of argument in the sciences, but what we have here is still rational argument'.
42. This threefold classification of the study of religion echoes that of Arthur C. McGill's essay ('The ambiguous position of Christian theology' in The Study of Religion in Colleges and Universities, Paul Ramsey and John F. Wilson (eds), Princeton, NJ, Princeton University Press 1970, pp. 105-38). McGill speaks of the differing approaches of (a) the philosophy of religion, (b) religious studies as a descriptive discipline, and (c) theology. The description of theology as a discipline which serves 'the interests of the religious and not the rational posture' (ibid., p. 133) is perhaps debatable. (Are these mutually exclusive aims?) I agree that theology can offer something of 'a challenge to rational autonomy', but would want to argue that this is not a challenge to rationality as such, but a challenge to a rationality too narrowly conceived. As Michael Banner writes (Justification, p. 184), 'argument here [in the realm of theology] may be demanding of sympathy and understanding in a way which is not characteristic of argument in the sciences, but what we have here is still rational argument'.
43. This threefold classification of the study of religion echoes that of Arthur C. McGill's essay ('The ambiguous position of Christian theology' in The Study of Religion in Colleges and Universities, Paul Ramsey and John F. Wilson (eds), Princeton, NJ, Princeton University Press 1970, pp. 105-38). McGill speaks of the differing approaches of (a) the philosophy of religion, (b) religious studies as a descriptive discipline, and (c) theology. The description of theology as a discipline which serves 'the interests of the religious and not the rational posture' (ibid., p. 133) is perhaps debatable. (Are these mutually exclusive aims?) I agree that theology can offer something of 'a challenge to rational autonomy', but would want to argue that this is not a challenge to rationality as such, but a challenge to a rationality too narrowly conceived. As Michael Banner writes (Justification, p. 184), 'argument here [in the realm of theology] may be demanding of sympathy and understanding in a way which is not characteristic of argument in the sciences, but what we have here is still rational argument'.
44. Isichei, 'Some ambiguities', p. 380: 'what Religious Studies teachers share is an informal set of understandings . . ., chief among them the determination to treat all faith traditions equally, and a general conviction that religion is important and worthy of study'.
45. Ninian Smart, Worldviews: Crosscultural Explorations of Human Beliefs, New York, Scribner 1983, p. 22.
46. Professor Isichei, 'Some ambiguities', p. 379, cites this same list of disciplines.
47. Isichei, 'Ambiguities', p. 379, citing Smart, Worldviews, p. 22; cf. also Smart and Konstantine, Theology, p. 19.
48. Isichei, 'Ambiguities', p. 379, citing Smart, Worldviews, p. 22; cf. also Smart and Konstantine, Theology, p. 19.
49. Isichei, 'Ambiguities', p. 379, citing Smart, Worldviews, p. 22; cf. also Smart and Konstantine, Theology, p. 19.
50. A. F. Chalmers, What is this thing called Science?, 2nd edn., St Lucia, University of Queensland Press 1982, p. xv.
51. ibid., p. 169.
52. Nancey Murphey, Theology in the Age of Scientific Reasoning, Cornell Studies in the Philosophy of Religion, Ithaca, NY, Cornell University Press 1990, p. 211. As has already been suggested, the existence of theology offers a challenge to those who would restrict 'knowledge' to 'scientific' knowledge. It is on the level of method that I am suggesting that theology and the sciences may have more in common than their practitioners suspect.
53. The idea that 'the doctrines of a religious community' may be regarded as 'analogous to a [scientific] research programme' is not new. It was first (to my knowledge) put forward by William H. Austin 'Religious commitment and the logical status of doctrines', Religious Studies 9 (1973), p. 44. was introduced to this idea by reading Nancey Murphey's book Theology in the Age of Scientific Reasoning (cf. note 43 above). Another writer who may be regarded as working within the same research programme is Michael C. Banner, whose book, The Justification of Science and the Rationality of Religious Belief, cf. note 27 above, draws from the philosophy of science a theory of 'rational realism', in order to demonstrate that the same criteria of rationality may be applied to theism (as a form of explanatory hypothesis).
54. The idea that 'the doctrines of a religious community' may be regarded as 'analogous to a [scientific] research programme' is not new. It was first (to my knowledge) put forward by William H. Austin 'Religious commitment and the logical status of doctrines', Religious Studies 9 (1973), p. 44. was introduced to this idea by reading Nancey Murphey's book Theology in the Age of Scientific Reasoning (cf. note 43 above). Another writer who may be regarded as working within the same research programme is Michael C. Banner, whose book, The Justification of Science and the Rationality of Religious Belief, cf. note 27 above, draws from the philosophy of science a theory of 'rational realism', in order to demonstrate that the same criteria of rationality may be applied to theism (as a form of explanatory hypothesis).
55. The idea that 'the doctrines of a religious community' may be regarded as 'analogous to a [scientific] research programme' is not new. It was first (to my knowledge) put forward by William H. Austin 'Religious commitment and the logical status of doctrines', Religious Studies 9 (1973), p. 44. was introduced to this idea by reading Nancey Murphey's book Theology in the Age of Scientific Reasoning (cf. note 43 above). Another writer who may be regarded as working within the same research programme is Michael C. Banner, whose book, The Justification of Science and the Rationality of Religious Belief, cf. note 27 above, draws from the philosophy of science a theory of 'rational realism', in order to demonstrate that the same criteria of rationality may be applied to theism (as a form of explanatory hypothesis).
56. Harold I. Brown, Perception, Theory and Commitment: The New Philosophy af Science, Chicago, University of Chicago Press 1989, p. 9 et passim.
57. Imre Lakatos, 'Falsification and the methodology of scientific research programmes' in Imre Lakatos and Alan Musgrave (eds) Criticism and the Growth of Knowledge, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press 1970, p. 99.
58. Brown, Perception, Theory and Commitment, p. 81.
59. Lakatos, 'Methodology', pp. 97-103, lists three such reasons: the testimony of psychology against a strict distinction between 'fact' and 'theory', the testimony of logic against the idea that a theory can be proven by facts, and the testimony of the history of science which suggests that in practice scientific theories are not refuted by what appear to be contrary facts.
60. ibid., p. 99.
61. Chalmers, Science, pp. 26-6.
62. On this distinction, see Alan Musgrave, Common Sense, Science and Scepticism: a Historical Introduction to the Theory of Knowledge, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press 1993, p. 55.
63. Martin Frické, 'On the theory dependence of observation' Philosophica 31 (1983), p. 75.
64. ibid., p. 77.
65. ibid., p. 29.
66. ibid.
67. cf. Alan Musgrave, 'Theory and observation: Nola versus Popper' Philosophical 31 (1983), p. 46.
68. Karl R. Popper, 'Knowledge without authority' (1960) in David Miller (ed.), A Pocket Popper, Fontana Pocket Readers (London: Fontana 1983), pp. 48-9.
69. For a criticism of Popper's views on this subject, see Robert Nola ('Interpretation of "The Facts" in the Light of Theory', Philosophica 31 (1983), pp. 25-44). The claim that observation statements are 'theory-laden' is defended by Alan Musgrave ('Theory and Observation', see note 56), who distinguished between this insight and some unacceptable theories of meaning with which it is sometimes associated.
70. For a criticism of Popper's views on this subject, see Robert Nola ('Interpretation of "The Facts" in the Light of Theory', Philosophica 31 (1983), pp. 25-44). The claim that observation statements are 'theory-laden' is defended by Alan Musgrave ('Theory and Observation', see note 56), who distinguished between this insight and some unacceptable theories of meaning with which it is sometimes associated.
71. cf. Brown, Perception, Theory and Commitment, p. 106.
72. Murphy, Theology, p. 59.
73. cf. Lakatos, 'Methodology', pp. 132-8.
74. ibid., p. 132. This parallels my claim that Christian theology as a whole may be regarded as analogous to the scientist's research programme.
75. ibid., pp. 132-3.
76. Thomas S. Kuhn, The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, 2nd edn. Chicago, University of Chicago Press, 1970, pp. 23-34.
77. ibid., pp. 184-5.
78. ibid., 182-3.
79. ibid., 186-7.
80. Alan Musgrave, 'Kuhn's Second Thoughts', British Journal of the Philosophy of Science 22 (1971), p. 290. As Musgrave indicates, Kuhn himself recognizes this fact in the second edition of his book, for he notes that early 19th-century chemists could agree on the use of certain research 'tools' (and in this sense shared a research programme or 'paradigm') but could and did 'disagree, sometimes vehemently, about the existence of atoms' (Kuhn, Structure, p. 180).
81. Alan Musgrave, 'Kuhn's Second Thoughts', British Journal of the Philosophy of Science 22 (1971), p. 290. As Musgrave indicates, Kuhn himself recognizes this fact in the second edition of his book, for he notes that early 19th-century chemists could agree on the use of certain research 'tools' (and in this sense shared a research programme or 'paradigm') but could and did 'disagree, sometimes vehemently, about the existence of atoms' (Kuhn, Structure, p. 180).
82. Banner (Justification, p. 148) makes the point that what is misleadingly called 'simplicity' with regard to scientific hypotheses is in fact a way of 'highlighting the explanatory power of certain hypotheses over rivals'. Citing J. L. Mackie, he notes that it really means 'the elimination of unexplained coincidence' (ibid., 147, italics original).
83. Banner (Justification, p. 148) makes the point that what is misleadingly called 'simplicity' with regard to scientific hypotheses is in fact a way of 'highlighting the explanatory power of certain hypotheses over rivals'. Citing J. L. Mackie, he notes that it really means 'the elimination of unexplained coincidence' (ibid., 147, italics original).
84. cf. Musgrave, 'Kuhn's second thoughts', p. 292.
85. As Brown (Perception, Theory and Commitment, p. 145) remarks, 'both science and philosophy of science consist of research projects structured by some set of presuppositions'.
86. In the postscript to the second edition of his work, Kuhn admits that he used this term somewhat loosely: he notes (Structure, p. 181) that one of his critics concluded that the word was used in at least 22 different ways in the first edition of his book.
87. Kuhn, Structure, p. 24
88. ibid., pp. 163-4. The paradigm, of course, also defines the problems to be solved so that - as Kuhn notes (ibid., p. 166) - 'a scientific community is an immensely efficient instrument for solving the problems or puzzles that its paradigms define'.
89. ibid., pp. 163-4. The paradigm, of course, also defines the problems to be solved so that - as Kuhn notes (ibid., p. 166) - 'a scientific community is an immensely efficient instrument for solving the problems or puzzles that its paradigms define'.
90. In the course of his critical review of Imre Lakatos's work ('Method or Madness? Can the methodology of research programmes be rescued from epistemological anarchism? in R. S. Cohen et al. (eds), Essays in Memory of Imre Lakatos, Dordrecht, D. Reidel 1976, p. 472) Alan Musgrave reflects on the role of analogy in research programmes. He writes that 'the heuristic strength of a programme often depends upon how far it can exploit an analogy with entities for which we already have a worked-out theory'. It is the fact that these themes have been so carefully worked out within the philosophy of science that makes the philosophy of science a fruitful analogue for a study of the methods of theology.
91. This brings us back to the first objection to theology as an academic discipline, that which concerns the nature of the knowledge to which theology lays claim. It will be important to clarify - although we cannot do this here - the ways in which religious statements are of a different order from those of the natural or human sciences. I have suggested that this may involve broadening the sense of the word 'explanation'. Have all the important questions been answered when we know rerum causae ('the causes of things') in the 'scientific' sense?
92. On the notion of what constitutes an 'arbitrary' choice, Brown (Perception, Theory and Commitment, pp. 154-5) notes: 'To accept a theory because it solves some problems, eliminates others, and provides a guide to future research, is not to decide arbitrarily to accept that theory'.
93. We will see that one of the urgent tasks facing modern theology (or more precisely, the philosophy of religion, upon whose resources theology must draw) is that of articulating criteria against which different religious claims may be judged.
94. Even Wilfred Cantwell Smith (Towards a World Theology Library of Philosophy and Religion, London, Macmillan 1981, p. 5), in his search for a 'world theology', finds that he needs to start from somewhere and to use the theological language of a particular faith.
95. This argument is similar to that offered by Arthur McGill ('Christian Theology', pp. 136-7) in arguing for the establishment of departments of Christian theology as a 'corrective' to the 'descriptive approach' of many departments of religious studies. McGill writes: 'The call for Christian theology to be established as a corrective in this situation does not represent any conviction about the truthfulness of Christianity. It is simply suggested that Christian theology would be the most effective enterprise for getting the truth-question off the ground again, for reminding everyone that all religions are preoccupied at their very centres with the question of truth and falsity and that no faculty of arts and sciences can afford to forget this fact for one moment'.
96. Geering, 'Colin Brown' in Veitch (ed.), To Strive and Not to Yield, p. 18.
97. Compare Hans-Georg Gadamer's discussion (Truth and Method, 2nd edn. London, Sheed and Ward 1979, pp. 239-40) of the prejudice against tradition which has characterized much modern thought. Gadamer points out that 'the fundamental prejudice of the enlightenment is the prejudice against prejudice itself, which deprives tradition of its power'. Yet - as Gadamer shows - 'all understanding inevitably involves some prejudice', some kind of 'prior judgement' about the reality to be known. That judgement must certainly allow itself to be reshaped in the course of interaction with the object of knowledge, but it remains true that in a very real sense certain 'prejudices' may be the very 'conditions of understanding'. Therefore, it seems fair to conclude, there is no reason to regard tradition as an obstacle to enquiry: to recognize one's own position within a tradition and to exploit its resources may be the very sine qua non of a successful enquiry. In this respect Gadamer echoes the words of Sir Karl Popper ('Knowledge without authority', p. 54) who writes that 'every bit of our traditional knowledge . . . is open to critical examination and may be overthrown. Nevertheless, without tradition, knowledge would be impossible'. In the same context (ibid., p. 55) Popper notes that 'knowledge cannot start from nothing - from a tabula rosa - nor yet from observation. The advance of knowledge consists, mainly, in the modification of earlier knowledge'. In a similar manner but from the perspective of a moral philosopher Alisdair Maclntyre (Whose Justice? Which Rationality?, Notre Dame, IN, University of Notre Dame Press 1988, p. 7) has spoken of the need to recover a 'conception of rational enquiry as embodied in a tradition, a conception according to which the standards of rational justification themselves emerge from and are part of a history in which they are vindicated by the way in which they transcend the limitations of and provide remedies for the defects of their predecessors within the history of that same tradition'. As MacIntyre has written (ibid., p. 367), 'to be outside all traditions is to be a stranger to enquiry; it is to be in a state of intellectual and moral destitution . . . '.
98. Compare Hans-Georg Gadamer's discussion (Truth and Method, 2nd edn. London, Sheed and Ward 1979, pp. 239-40) of the prejudice against tradition which has characterized much modern thought. Gadamer points out that 'the fundamental prejudice of the enlightenment is the prejudice against prejudice itself, which deprives tradition of its power'. Yet - as Gadamer shows - 'all understanding inevitably involves some prejudice', some kind of 'prior judgement' about the reality to be known. That judgement must certainly allow itself to be reshaped in the course of interaction with the object of knowledge, but it remains true that in a very real sense certain 'prejudices' may be the very 'conditions of understanding'. Therefore, it seems fair to conclude, there is no reason to regard tradition as an obstacle to enquiry: to recognize one's own position within a tradition and to exploit its resources may be the very sine qua non of a successful enquiry. In this respect Gadamer echoes the words of Sir Karl Popper ('Knowledge without authority', p. 54) who writes that 'every bit of our traditional knowledge . . . is open to critical examination and may be overthrown. Nevertheless, without tradition, knowledge would be impossible'. In the same context (ibid., p. 55) Popper notes that 'knowledge cannot start from nothing - from a tabula rosa - nor yet from observation. The advance of knowledge consists, mainly, in the modification of earlier knowledge'. In a similar manner but from the perspective of a moral philosopher Alisdair Maclntyre (Whose Justice? Which Rationality?, Notre Dame, IN, University of Notre Dame Press 1988, p. 7) has spoken of the need to recover a 'conception of rational enquiry as embodied in a tradition, a conception according to which the standards of rational justification themselves emerge from and are part of a history in which they are vindicated by the way in which they transcend the limitations of and provide remedies for the defects of their predecessors within the history of that same tradition'. As MacIntyre has written (ibid., p. 367), 'to be outside all traditions is to be a stranger to enquiry; it is to be in a state of intellectual and moral destitution . . . '.
99. Compare Hans-Georg Gadamer's discussion (Truth and Method, 2nd edn. London, Sheed and Ward 1979, pp. 239-40) of the prejudice against tradition which has characterized much modern thought. Gadamer points out that 'the fundamental prejudice of the enlightenment is the prejudice against prejudice itself, which deprives tradition of its power'. Yet - as Gadamer shows - 'all understanding inevitably involves some prejudice', some kind of 'prior judgement' about the reality to be known. That judgement must certainly allow itself to be reshaped in the course of interaction with the object of knowledge, but it remains true that in a very real sense certain 'prejudices' may be the very 'conditions of understanding'. Therefore, it seems fair to conclude, there is no reason to regard tradition as an obstacle to enquiry: to recognize one's own position within a tradition and to exploit its resources may be the very sine qua non of a successful enquiry. In this respect Gadamer echoes the words of Sir Karl Popper ('Knowledge without authority', p. 54) who writes that 'every bit of our traditional knowledge . . . is open to critical examination and may be overthrown. Nevertheless, without tradition, knowledge would be impossible'. In the same context (ibid., p. 55) Popper notes that 'knowledge cannot start from nothing - from a tabula rosa - nor yet from observation. The advance of knowledge consists, mainly, in the modification of earlier knowledge'. In a similar manner but from the perspective of a moral philosopher Alisdair Maclntyre (Whose Justice? Which Rationality?, Notre Dame, IN, University of Notre Dame Press 1988, p. 7) has spoken of the need to recover a 'conception of rational enquiry as embodied in a tradition, a conception according to which the standards of rational justification themselves emerge from and are part of a history in which they are vindicated by the way in which they transcend the limitations of and provide remedies for the defects of their predecessors within the history of that same tradition'. As MacIntyre has written (ibid., p. 367), 'to be outside all traditions is to be a stranger to enquiry; it is to be in a state of intellectual and moral destitution . . . '.
100. Compare Hans-Georg Gadamer's discussion (Truth and Method, 2nd edn. London, Sheed and Ward 1979, pp. 239-40) of the prejudice against tradition which has characterized much modern thought. Gadamer points out that 'the fundamental prejudice of the enlightenment is the prejudice against prejudice itself, which deprives tradition of its power'. Yet - as Gadamer shows - 'all understanding inevitably involves some prejudice', some kind of 'prior judgement' about the reality to be known. That judgement must certainly allow itself to be reshaped in the course of interaction with the object of knowledge, but it remains true that in a very real sense certain 'prejudices' may be the very 'conditions of understanding'. Therefore, it seems fair to conclude, there is no reason to regard tradition as an obstacle to enquiry: to recognize one's own position within a tradition and to exploit its resources may be the very sine qua non of a successful enquiry. In this respect Gadamer echoes the words of Sir Karl Popper ('Knowledge without authority', p. 54) who writes that 'every bit of our traditional knowledge . . . is open to critical examination and may be overthrown. Nevertheless, without tradition, knowledge would be impossible'. In the same context (ibid., p. 55) Popper notes that 'knowledge cannot start from nothing - from a tabula rosa - nor yet from observation. The advance of knowledge consists, mainly, in the modification of earlier knowledge'. In a similar manner but from the perspective of a moral philosopher Alisdair Maclntyre (Whose Justice? Which Rationality?, Notre Dame, IN, University of Notre Dame Press 1988, p. 7) has spoken of the need to recover a 'conception of rational enquiry as embodied in a tradition, a conception according to which the standards of rational justification themselves emerge from and are part of a history in which they are vindicated by the way in which they transcend the limitations of and provide remedies for the defects of their predecessors within the history of that same tradition'. As MacIntyre has written (ibid., p. 367), 'to be outside all traditions is to be a stranger to enquiry; it is to be in a state of intellectual and moral destitution . . . '.
101. Compare Hans-Georg Gadamer's discussion (Truth and Method, 2nd edn. London, Sheed and Ward 1979, pp. 239-40) of the prejudice against tradition which has characterized much modern thought. Gadamer points out that 'the fundamental prejudice of the enlightenment is the prejudice against prejudice itself, which deprives tradition of its power'. Yet - as Gadamer shows - 'all understanding inevitably involves some prejudice', some kind of 'prior judgement' about the reality to be known. That judgement must certainly allow itself to be reshaped in the course of interaction with the object of knowledge, but it remains true that in a very real sense certain 'prejudices' may be the very 'conditions of understanding'. Therefore, it seems fair to conclude, there is no reason to regard tradition as an obstacle to enquiry: to recognize one's own position within a tradition and to exploit its resources may be the very sine qua non of a successful enquiry. In this respect Gadamer echoes the words of Sir Karl Popper ('Knowledge without authority', p. 54) who writes that 'every bit of our traditional knowledge . . . is open to critical examination and may be overthrown. Nevertheless, without tradition, knowledge would be impossible'. In the same context (ibid., p. 55) Popper notes that 'knowledge cannot start from nothing - from a tabula rosa - nor yet from observation. The advance of knowledge consists, mainly, in the modification of earlier knowledge'. In a similar manner but from the perspective of a moral philosopher Alisdair Maclntyre (Whose Justice? Which Rationality?, Notre Dame, IN, University of Notre Dame Press 1988, p. 7) has spoken of the need to recover a 'conception of rational enquiry as embodied in a tradition, a conception according to which the standards of rational justification themselves emerge from and are part of a history in which they are vindicated by the way in which they transcend the limitations of and provide remedies for the defects of their predecessors within the history of that same tradition'. As MacIntyre has written (ibid., p. 367), 'to be outside all traditions is to be a stranger to enquiry; it is to be in a state of intellectual and moral destitution . . . '.
102. See my initial comments on the nature of religious truth.
103. Chalmers, Science, p. 166.
104. ibid.
105. ibid., p. 135.
106. Frank Cioffi, 'Freud and the idea of a pseudo-science' in Robert Borger and Frank Cioffi (eds), Explanation in the Behavioural Sciences, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press 1970, p. 472.
107. ibid.
108. ibid.
109. ibid.
110. Karl R. Popper, Conjectures and Refutations: The Growth of Scientific Knowledge, London, Routledge and Kegan Paul 1963, p. 197.
111. ibid., pp. 195-6.
112. ibid., pp. 198-200.
113. Only if one has already decided that religious language makes reference to nothing and serves no cognitive purpose at all would theology as a form of enquiry ruled out.
114. Once again this observation has its analogue in scientific theory: as Alan Chalmers (Science, pp. 77-8) notes, scientific theories 'should be considered as structural wholes', in which 'concepts derive their meaning at least in part from the role they play in a theory'. The 'at least in part' is important: this principle should not be taken to mean that different research programmes are incommensurable (cf. Alan Musgrave, 'How to avoid incommensurability', in I. Niiniluoto and R. Tuomela (eds) The Logic and Epistemology of Scientific Change, Acta Philosophica Fennica 30:2-4, North Holland Publishing Co. 1979, pp. 336-46). By analogy I would want to suggest that, while the particular claims of different faiths must be understood first of all within their own contexts, there is no reason to assume that their claims are 'incommensurable'. However difficult it may be, interfaith dialogue does seem to be possible.
115. Once again this observation has its analogue in scientific theory: as Alan Chalmers (Science, pp. 77-8) notes, scientific theories 'should be considered as structural wholes', in which 'concepts derive their meaning at least in part from the role they play in a theory'. The 'at least in part' is important: this principle should not be taken to mean that different research programmes are incommensurable (cf. Alan Musgrave, 'How to avoid incommensurability', in I. Niiniluoto and R. Tuomela (eds) The Logic and Epistemology of Scientific Change, Acta Philosophica Fennica 30:2-4, North Holland Publishing Co. 1979, pp. 336-46). By analogy I would want to suggest that, while the particular claims of different faiths must be understood first of all within their own contexts, there is no reason to assume that their claims are 'incommensurable'. However difficult it may be, interfaith dialogue does seem to be possible.
116. It is in the course of this operation that theology is often accused of circularity in its arguments, of assessing the very principles which it should be subjecting to critique. What I am about to suggest is that this is not the only way in which theological claims should be assessed: a truly critical theology will also subject its guiding assumptions to a critique ab extra, using criteria drawn from the philosophy of religion rather than from its own principles. Therefore, we may admit the charge of 'arguing in a circle', but note that all forms of circular reasoning are to be rejected. As Brown (Perception, Theory and Commitment, p. 159) notes: 'No one ever undertakes a philosophical analysis of science, or even a piece of scientific research, without a substantial body of prior commitments about how to proceed. If this generates a circle, it is not a vicious one since elements of the circle can be modified and the entire circle can be abandoned and replaced in the course of the ongoing research'.
117. This is why I am uneasy with the suggestion, made for instance by Ninian Smart (Woridviews, p. 34), that the word 'theology . . . ought to have an adjective in front of it - Christian, Jewish, Catholic, Protestant, Reform, Orthodox, and so on'. It is true that a truly critical theology may emerge from any one of these traditions, but if it is truly critical, it must also transcend the particular tradition from which it has come.
118. Wiebe, 'Explanation', p. 52, n. 47.
119. For a list of possible criteria, drawn from the work of William Christian and Ninian Smart, see Brian Hebblethwaite (The Problems of Theology, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press 1980, pp. 40-3). Hebblethwaite speaks of the criteria of 'coherence, simplicity, comprehensiveness, ethical and spiritual profundity' (as he notes 'some [religions] commend themselves for their range and depth of moral creativity more than others') as well as the 'ability to cope with boundary situations' ('sustaining a sense of meaning despite the problems of evil, suffering and death'), 'historical considerations' ('the extent to which a religion is based on publicly ascertainable facts'), and what he calls the 'aesthetic criterion' ('the way all these elements fit together and illuminate each other').
120. cf. Alan Musgrave, 'Method or madness?', pp. 464-5.
121. Chalmers, Science, pp. 125, 139.
122. Kuhn, Structure, p. 77.
123. Lakatos, 'Methodology', p. 119 (italics original).
124. ibid., p. 155.
125. Isichei, 'Some ambiguities', p. 387.
126. ibid., p. 379, citing Smart, Worldviews, p. 22.
127. ibid., p. 379, citing Smart, Worldviews, p. 22.
128. Donovan ('Neutrality', p. 114) argues for the bracketing of such questions in religious studies on the grounds that 'the very method for deciding these matters (what the options are, whether they are coherent, which is best supported by the evidence, and so on)' is in dispute. However, while leaving these questions aside may be a wise practical and political decision, it does not mean that in principle such questions cannot be asked. Once again what this argument highlights is the need to develop criteria of religious truth (or adequacy) which are applicable to all faiths.
129. James Veitch, 'Establishing an image and settling on a name: the coming of age of an academic discipline' in Maurice Andrew, Peter Matheson and Simon Rae (eds) Religious Studies in Dialogue: Essays in Honour of Albert C. Moore, Dunedin, Faculty of Theology 1991, p. 29.
130. See Wiebe's defence ('Explanation', pp. 37-41) of 'participant observation' in religious studies, or Robert Michaelson's claim ('The engaged observer: portrait of a professor of religion' Journal of the American Academy of Religion 40 (1972), p. 423) that the professor of religion must 'combine detachment with involvement, objectivity with participation, knowledge with imagination'.
131. See Wiebe's defence ('Explanation', pp. 37-41) of 'participant observation' in religious studies, or Robert Michaelson's claim ('The engaged observer: portrait of a professor of religion' Journal of the American Academy of Religion 40 (1972), p. 423) that the professor of religion must 'combine detachment with involvement, objectivity with participation, knowledge with imagination'.
132. Ogden, 'Theology and Religious Studies', p. 15. The weakness of this formulation is that it could be read to imply that there is such a thing as 'religion generally', whereas in reality there exist only particular religions. Whether those religions have some kind of common core is - as I understand it-itself a question for debate within religious studies. Therefore, it may be better to say that religious studies is constituted by the question as to the meaning and truth of any of the world's religions. Neither religious studies nor theology is thereby prevented from undertaking comparative studies: it is just that for neither discipline can comparative studies be the starting-point.
133. ibid.
134. ibid.
135. ibid. Analogous claims could be made for theology done from within the framework of a different faith, for instance Jewish or Islamic theology, or what we may call 'Buddhology' (or 'dhamatology': cf. Ninian Smart, The Phenomenon of Religion Philosophy of Religion, London, Macmillan 1973, p. 12). For myself, I strongly suspect that theology in the sense in which it is understood here (a self-conscious and critical reflection on the foundations of one's faith) is a product of Western (and therefore Christian) civilization, the result of the interaction of the Christian faith with the critical and rational spirit of ancient Greece. (Not that all Christians would wish to participate in this kind of theological reflection: even within the Christian faith there are those who wish Jerusalem to have nothing to do with Athens, but they would hardly be at home in the university.)
136. ibid. Analogous claims could be made for theology done from within the framework of a different faith, for instance Jewish or Islamic theology, or what we may call 'Buddhology' (or 'dhamatology': cf. Ninian Smart, The Phenomenon of Religion Philosophy of Religion, London, Macmillan 1973, p. 12). For myself, I strongly suspect that theology in the sense in which it is understood here (a self-conscious and critical reflection on the foundations of one's faith) is a product of Western (and therefore Christian) civilization, the result of the interaction of the Christian faith with the critical and rational spirit of ancient Greece. (Not that all Christians would wish to participate in this kind of theological reflection: even within the Christian faith there are those who wish Jerusalem to have nothing to do with Athens, but they would hardly be at home in the university.)
137. It may be, of course, that a theologian will decide that another faith offers a more credible and comprehensive worldview than that with which he began. This may result in a 'conversion' from one faith to the other, a conversion which will be - if he takes the claims of that religion seriously - far more than an intellectual matter. Such moves are not unheard of within the theological community. One hopes that the university's institutional arrangements would be flexible enough to accommodate such a person, if he should continue to write and teach from within this new framework.
138. Turner, 'Questions', p. 27.