Irreconcilable Differences?

Fostering Dialogue among Philosophy, Theology, and Science

Robinson, Peck

• Verlag: Pickwick Publications
• Jahr: 2015
• ISBN:
  9781498200059
• Thema: Teología y religión
• Thema: Religión

What if philosophy, theology, and science spent a little more time together? These fields often seem at odds, butting metaphysical heads. Instead of talking at, how about talking with one another? This book engages three academic disciplines--distinct yet sharing much in common--in a slice of conversation and community in which participants have aimed at validating the other and the way the other sees the world. The result is a collection of essays united by a thread that can be hard to find in academia.In bringing together a wide range of contributors on a project that at first seemed unlikely, Irreconcilable Differences? is also a testament to the spirit of cooperation and hard work--evidence that small acts and events can make a big difference, and that sometimes all you need in order to make something good happen is an idea with a little support along the way. The editors of this collection are hopeful that its contributors and readers will keep looking for ways to bridge academic, social, and political gaps. We need to forge relationships based on personal knowledge and proper confidence seeking to make meaningful claims in an increasingly complex world.

Part 1

Philosophy and Theology

1

The Superiority of Theology over Philosophy

Jean Grondin

The chance to take part in a dialogue between philosophy and theology is an opportunity one cannot miss. I am for the most part a philosopher, but have always had a profound admiration for theology; call it a secret crush. Back in the 70s I had the privilege of studying not only philosophy, but also Greek philology and theology, at the University of Tübingen. If I can brag about something in life, it is that I had outstanding theology teachers: Hans Küng, Walter Kasper, Jürgen Moltmann, Gerhard Ebeling, Eberhard Jüngel, and Herbert Haag. You may think I mean to impress you with those names, but I am myself overwhelmed by the quality of teachers I had. I thoroughly admire them and their discipline, although it is not mine.

It is often said that a dialogue must be conducted between equals. In our society we are thoroughly enamored with the notion that we are all equal—which is all well and good in a democratic society, but is not always true in dialogue, or in life in general. For my part I have learned most from dialogues with teachers and other thinkers who are brighter and more knowledgeable than I am, and there are many of these (a fact of which any reader will be convinced by the end of this paper). If the same holds for life in general, it is because I also prefer to listen to singers who sing better than I do; and when I am dealing with a plumber, I prefer him or her to be more knowledgeable about certain things than I am.

So it is with my relation to theology, and perhaps the relation of philosophy to theology in general. I always had the feeling I was dealing with a better, superior discipline, as it was already called in the traditional university system with its four faculties: law, medicine, the “inferior faculty” (i.e., philosophy), and the superior facultas (theology). Not that I want to trade disciplines, because philosophy is the only discipline I can really practice; but I feel like the long-distance runner who enjoys his grueling sport, but who readily admits that hockey is, for many reasons, a more interesting sport.

All this might sound like an irrational admiration, so I thought I might try to formulate the reasons for it. Hence I will give you, in truly boring philosophical fashion, seven (debatable) reasons why I believe theology is superior to philosophy.

It may be that I have a somewhat idealized view of theology. I am fully aware of that; indeed, I would say that much of the theological work of the last two decades is actually rather disheartening. But one of the reasons for the current state of theology, I would contend, is that theologians have traded some of their best traditions for philosophical fads. A look at the curriculum of a theology faculty nowadays would seem to confirm this. My polite warning to theologians would be: I am not sure that the fashionable theology-is-dead type of discourse is of real interest to anybody, either to theologians themselves or to practitioners of other sciences. I think, on the contrary, that theologians have every reason to be very proud of the much-maligned traditions of their discipline.

Here are my seven reasons for the superiority of theology over philosophy. They go from the more mundane, “sociological” reasons to what I hope are more essential ones. Let us start with the most trivial reasons, while noting that the trivial is also very real.

Theology interests more people than philosophy.

This may sound trite, but it is nevertheless a fact. To begin with, everybody—and I am speaking here of normal people—has an idea of what theology is about: it deals with matters of faith, God, life after death, ritual, etc. This is not the case with philosophy. To be sure, the word “philosophy” is often used loosely in common parlance—as, for example, when one speaks about the “philosophy” of the coach of this or that hockey team—but people don’t really know what philosophers do. As most of you can testify, we can’t even explain to our own families and children what it is we are doing. And if we show them the books we write, in most cases they cannot read them. This is not true in the same way or to the same extent, at least in my experience, of theology. People know what theological debates are about and can relate to them. You can put almost anybody in a theology conference, and chances are they will understand at least something of what is being said. The same does not hold for philosophy conferences.

Furthermore, everyone has strong views about theological matters. Either they are believers or they aren’t, and if they aren’t, they nevertheless have strong views on organized religion, faith, and the church. A result of this is that theological issues attract a very wide public—helping to explain, for instance, the success of Dan Brown’s bestseller, The Da Vinci Code. It is also true that everybody follows the election of a pope, and important news magazines will devote their title issues to figures like Muhammad, Moses, Jesus Christ, the Virgin Mary, or Maria Magdalena. I even remember an issue of Time magazine recently devoted to the angels, and one, at the end of 2005, devoted to Saint Joseph, a rather obscure figure of whom we know so little, but who nevertheless sparks interest. For some reason, I cannot imagine an issue of Time magazine devoted to Kant, Derrida, or Gadamer. So it is a fact: philosophy might have its intrinsic merits (and I believe it does), but people are generally more interested in theological matters, which also happen to be more accessible.

Theology is more relevant than philosophy to current world events.

Religion and theology have often been proclaimed dead, but one need not look very far to discover that current world events are shaped by religious issues and divisions. One immediately thinks, of course, of the rise of fundamentalism in Islam and the Middle East. But this presence of religion can also be felt even in the United States, where the Religious Right plays an important role in electing presidents and naming judges to the Supreme Court. I think theologians are better equipped than philosophers to deal with these matters: they can explain to us why cartoons of Muhammad raise such a ruckus in the Middle East, what it is that the Chinese are destroying in Tibet, why peace is so difficult to reach in Northern Ireland, what divides the Shiites from the Sunnis, and why we encounter, to a certain extent, similar persistent divisions between Protestants, Catholics, and Orthodox believers (as in the former Yugoslavia). One can also think of the impact of liberation theology on political events in Latin America. And who can forget the important role played by the Pope in bringing down communism (the invention, by the way, of a philosopher)? In this, John Paul II outdid the CIA, the U.S. Defense Department, NATO, the Comintern, and all the think tanks and leaders of the world. Small wonder that all the world leaders (rightly humbled) attended his funeral in 2005. It is hard to imagine philosophers playing such an influential role, and when philosophers do act on the public stage, their actions are mostly disastrous. It is pointless to remind everybody here of Heidegger’s involvement with Hitler, or of Lukács and Sartre, both defenders of Stalin, to say nothing of Michel Foucault, an admirer of Mao and the Ayatollah Homeini. I will not dwell on this chapter, painful as it is for philosophers (I do not want to rub it in), but I think it is safe to conclude that theology is far more relevant to world events than philosophy is or can ever wish to be. And theologians are taking account of this fact themselves by insisting today on the importance of inter-religious dialogue, one of the liveliest branches of theological research. In doing so they are setting an example for the rest of the world. As for philosophy, it is difficult to imagine a Heideggerian seriously discussing with an analytical philosopher on such a paramount issue as the meaning of the verb “to be.”

I might recall here a personal experience where this reality began to dawn upon me. One afternoon in December 1979 I was slowly making my way to a class taught by Hans Küng. When I arrived at the auditorium, I saw thousands of noisy people in attendance, demonstrating with loudspeakers because it had just been learned that ...