To
make a point, I insist that I do not believe in God, and I suggest that a
Kierkegaardian "leap of faith" violates personal and intellectual
integrity. With all sincerity, I have
often stated that I encounter the immediate and distinctive activity of the
Father, Jesus and the Holy Spirit in innumerable events in my daily life. And though I usually take everything
personally, I am not offended when my assertion is greeted with condescension
by rationalists who suggest that I have not out-grown a childish need for imaginary
friends. But a compulsion to live with
intellectual integrity motivates me to subject my everyday experiences to
critical analyses.
Forms of Life
When Wittgenstein undertook the analysis of
the assumptions of the ideal language program in his Tractatus Logico Philosophicus, he was bewitched by the assumption
that language was a formal system subject to the rule of reason. When he recognized the sterility of an ideal
language intended to picture reality precisely and comprehensively, he concluded
this text with a passage which indulged his mystical bent: "Whereof one cannot speak, thereof one
must be silent."
In the following years, Wittgenstein
wrestled with the realization that everyday language could say more precisely
and comprehensively what an ideal language was supposed to say. To explore a working assumption that ordinary
language is all right, he replaced the supposition that language is a formal
system with the suggestion that everyday languages incorporate many distinctive
forms of life, each designed to transform a longing, insight, or aspiration
into a realizable quest.
From a philosophical perspective, this
focus on realizable purposes differed radically from the focus of Aristotle's
correspondence theory of truth, science's promise of certain knowledge, and
Nietzsche's insistence that these versions of classical rationalism were
propelled by a hidden will to power.
From a practical perspective, it replaced the picture-theory of language
encoded in the Tractatus with an implicit
analysis of the workings of metaphors.
In this context, Kuhn's The Structure of Scientific Revolutions
applied Wittgenstein's insight in a way that revealed the role played by
metaphors whose reach initially exceeded their grasp in the history of
science. On my part, a fascination with
the workings of intimacy as a form of life with a realizable purpose have led
me to see that the process whereby a form of life first enters moral discourse
as a metaphor which attracts adherents willing to subject its implications to
tests in everyday life. The languages
which survive this extensive testing can then be used to process everyday
experiences in ways which enable language-users to realize the purpose in
question. And they are effective because
they enable those who dwell within a form of life to sort out the stimuli which
confront them in ways that enable them to overcome obstacles to the realization
of this purpose.
As a form of life generated by a longing
for deepening intimacy, however, it functions as a moral discourse without
foundations. The reason is
obvious. An understanding of the
workings of the languages which transmit distinctive forms of life explains why
any form of life lives or dies depending on its ability to attract individuals
who value the purpose it is designed to realize.
Intimacy as a Form of Life
Over the course of centuries, the metaphors
of intimacy projected by Israel's prophets generated a distinctive form of life
which transforms an elusive longing for deepening person-to-person involvements
into a realizable quest. As the
linguistic medium for these metaphors, the prophets drew on a language indebted
to a distinctive literary form forged by authors who used a dialogue among
stories to process Israel's historical experience.
This literary form, the prose narrative,
centered analyses of language and experience in interactions between an
incomprehensible deity and unique individuals endowed with unfathomable depths
and a mysterious freedom. The metaphors
of intimacy supplemented this vision with pregnant insights into moral
discourse.
The Deuteronomic strand of the narrative
tradition insisted that the Mosaic Law functioned as a mediator between
Israel's God and Israel. To support this
vision, storytellers invoked the power-structure implicit in Yahweh's
reservation of authority over moral discourse to himself in the story of Adam
and Eve. Implicitly, the embrace of this
power-structure was designed to lend authority to a moral discourse framed by a
metaphor of power and judgment. In
marked contrast, the prophets replaced the belief that the Law functioned as a
mediator with assurances that Israel's God was intimately involved with unique
individuals.
From
an analytic perspective, the metaphors of intimacy replaced the Deuteronomic
insistence that definitive answers to moral issues had been given by God in
theophanies with a passionate insistence that God's moral voice spoke in and
through the cries of the oppressed, dispossessed, marginalized, silenced,
outcast and stranger. As a result, they
fostered an awareness that tangled moral issues lie, inextricably, at the core
of every human action and assertion, and, in turn, this awareness subverted the
assumption that prevailing norms and practices could yield definitive moral
judgments. But they themselves did not
speak in a hollow voice of prophetic protest.
Instead, the protests they validated revealed that intimate interactions
were the only way to transform the longing for a fully human and uniquely
personal existence into a realizable quest.
In sum, these metaphors utilized the inner
logic of seminal stories in the Hebrew narrative tradition which readings
governed by a code derived from a metaphor of power and judgment ignore. Thus, in the story of Adam and Eve, though
Yahweh insists on reserving authority over moral issues to himself, he clearly
does not understand human reality. He is
puzzled by Adam's loneliness. His first
response—to retain power over moral discourse while giving Adam power over
animals—betrays a complete failure to understand that power-structures abort
the longing for intimacy. His second response—the formation of Eve—was almost
comic. It indicates a dawning awareness
that Adam longed for intimacy with another human being, but sets the stage for
Eve's realization that, if she desired intimacy with Adam, she had to
transgress the prevailing power-structure.
In Augustine's violent misreading of this story,
Adam's transgression severed the natural relationship between Creator and
creatures and no merely human being could offer the sort of reparation that
would restore the relationship. In
marked contrast, the Hebrew narrative tradition used the covenant-theme
introduced in the Yahwist's story of the call to Abraham to explore Yahweh's
willingness to remain involved with Adam and his descendants. In this vein, the story of Sodom and Gomorrah
depicts Yahweh as an oriental potentate subject to eruptions of wrath. And though Abraham approaches Yahweh with
trepidation, he nonetheless dares to instruct him on the morality befitting a
being of such awesome power in his dealings with human beings. In Exodus, however, the categorical
form of God's covenant with Abraham was replaced with a conditional form which
virtually reduced the covenant to a contract laden with promised rewards and
threatened punishments. But when God
threatens to destroy Abraham's offspring and begin again with Moses, Moses
persuades him to change his mind by flattery, warnings that Israel's neighbors
might judge him harshly, and a reminder of the irrevocable covenant with
Abraham.
At the very least, metaphors of intimacy
utilize the inner logic of these stories to replace a rule of Law with the
suggestion that God can speak in and through the cries from the depths of
wounded individuals because he is passionately, vulnerably, respectfully and
faithfully involved with them. And this
is the way that an incarnational theology describes the intimate involvement of
Jesus, fully human as well as fully God, with each and every human being.
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