Chapter Two

Chapter Two: The Method of Investigation - Epistemology

1

The first notion that must be dealt with is that of “faith.” Many of the critics think that biblical faith is some sort of “belief system” unsupported by evidence, that is some type of individual technique that makes sense out of he world to that individual. Whether it s connected with reality is another matter.

If this is the case, then we would expect the nature of that “leap” to be spelled out in the New Testament documents. First, though, let us take a quick look at faulty notions of faith demonstrated by the critics.

There is, as noted above, the notion that faith is unsupported by real evidence (Larue).

Paul Tillich makes a distinction between belief and faith – the former an intellectual agreement based on low probability, often in spite of the evidence (not because of it), [1] and the latter a personal commitment to the “ultimate concern.” [2] We will see that faith indeed contains an element of personal trust, but the nature of that ultimate concern must be determined before we know what to put our trust in. And that is a problem to be determined by knowledge. Also, we will see that the New Testament position is not one which condones any old faith or belief, but rather a particular, exclusive faith based on knowledge.

Dr. Jensen makes a common mistake in equating faith with historical uncertainty; he thinks that, because the gospel story is included in ancient documents (subject to various interpretations, etc.) it is therefore excluded from the realm of certain fact and propelled into the area of “belief” or “faith”, depending upon the individual’s own feelings and interpretations – un-confirmable by competent historical investigation.

The majority of critics, such as Larue and Tillich, boil faith down to mere emotion, fear, wish-fulfillment, etc. (also Russell, Freud, and others). This charge is obviously that faith-propositions are not based upon rational investigation and are unsupported by evidence.

The question is: do they get these ideas from the nature of Christianity itself, as demonstrated in its primary documents, or do they derive these notions from their own philosophy? We will take a hard look at the nature of faith as shown in the New Testament, to see if it proposes such a willy-nilly basis of belief and personal trust.

2

In order to discover the New Testament notion of faith, we must relate that concept to the New Testament notion of truth and knowledge. (In Appendix B. we have listed the relevant passages and texts which deal with this matter.) We will summarize some of the important considerations here.

New Testament truth is primarily truth about the personal God of Israel, called by Jesus “The Father.” It is a single clearly defined body of truth concerning His nature, His actions in history, and His revelation of Himself in the person of Jesus Christ. It is equivalent with “the gospel” in essence. It is not alterable, subject to re-interpretation or re-evaluation; in short, it seems to be what we commonly mean by “truth” in the everyday world, applied to those matters most important to the world and to the individual. [3] The appropriation of this truth is accomplished by the establishment of a personal relationship with this God based on personal experience and concomitant trust in Him. [4]

The cognizance of this truth is based on personal testimony: first, the testimony by Jesus concerning these matters. His express purpose, as he explains to Pilate at his trial, is to bear witness to the truth. [5] Further, the embodiment of his testimony is found in the testimony of his immediate followers, the apostles. They bear witness to their first-hand, sensory experiences as companions of Jesus, and record his testimony in its essentials. [6]

The nature of this truth is not hidden or esoteric, but is plain, sober truth, [7] available to public scrutiny and available to all men, [8] and understandable to those who will consider it. [9] It is truth, whose opposite is lies, [10] myths, [11] mere eloquence, [12] and madness. [13] It is not opposed to “other truths.”

The proper response enjoined by the New Testament witness is to “believe” and to “know” the truth, because it IS truth. [14] The experiential result promised is to attain eternal life, [15] freedom, [16] and to become like God. [17] The alternative is not “other paths” or “faiths” but death. [18]

3

Now that we understand that New Testament truth is really truth as usually understood by the term, applied to God, we must see if “belief” and “faith” are used in a different sense, or in a similar one. First, we see that Christian faith is one body of clearly defined truth, equivalent to the “gospel.” [19] “The Faith” refers to the same object as “The Truth.” It is the personal relationship with the God of Israel based on personal experience. [20] Notice, for instance, the paradigms of faith in Hebrews all knew their God experientially, and trusted Him to possess a particular character in the future and to deal with them lovingly: on the basis of His prior revelation. [21] In these examples, nowhere can we find the man simply “believing” on a low probability level, in spite of the evidence, or committed to a vague “ultimate concern”, but truly engaged in a living relationship with God.

Once again, the cognizance of this truth is based upon Jesus’ testimony. In fact – he tells us – it is based upon his deeds as wells as his words. He says, in effect, “If you can’t believe what I tell you, then believe those concrete events that transpire before your eyes, to assure you that I am indeed speaking the truth”, and “if I can’t perform up to my claims, then by all means don’t believe me.” [22] He puts his testimony right on the line, in the arena of publicly observable facts. At one point he prays for his apostles, that those who hear their message would accept it, for he is aware that his witness is encapsulated within their account. [23] Paul is intensely aware of the importance of the apostles’ testimony. [24] Thomas, as well as the other apostles, is testifying not to vague speculation, but to first-hand sensory knowledge. [25]

The proper response is to “believe the gospel” – that clearly-defined body of truth which Jesus bears witness to. [26] The promised experiential result is salvation, [27] otherwise, eternal death. [28]

A simple logical truth is: things that are equal to the same thing are then equal to each other. Faith and truth are both one body of truth, concerning a personal relationship with God, borne witness of by Jesus and the apostles; the proper response is to believe and to know, resulting in eternal life. Any other “faith” or “truth” is clearly a falsehood, not an equal candidate for our assent. [28a] The precise reason why we are enjoined to “believe” is simply that it IS THE TRUTH!

Perhaps the only difference between belief and knowledge is that they are two points along a continuum, blending into each other – not isolated and opposite, as some would have it. One believes the message because it seems to be true, and then comes to know its truth through precisely that mode of appropriation commanded by the gospel in a personal relationship with God: the belief is born out of experience, and faith (trust in a person) grows with knowledge of that person.

4

There is another type of faith, the belief that something is true for no evidential reasons, just simply as an act of will. The only time this is justified is when it is faith in an un-provable tenet or un-testable assumption. This might be called “assumption-faith” and is clearly appropriate when it consists of the bed-rock presuppositions of any system thought. For instance, the scientific method has epistemological assumptions (e.g. that logic is valid and that knowledge of the real world is possible), metaphysical assumptions (e.g. that nature is uniform), and ethical assumptions (e.g. that one should be honest in investigation).

Scientists do not try to prove that these assumptions are in fact true, they are simply taken for granted. Actually, the validity of every scientific finding is based on the truth of these assumptions, and would rise or fall with the acceptance or rejection of them.

The first problem concerning assumptions is that of the “hidden” assumption. When the first principles of a system are not explicit, we court confusion and misunderstanding. Arguments concerning facts or reasoning can’t help, because the foundations may be at odds: we are in fact arguing at cross-purposes. This is sometimes evident in discussions about metaphysics. Each system has its own axioms from which it moves and grows. If these axioms aren’t spelled out, philosophers can argue forever without making real progress. Manley Thompson points this out:

Each metaphysical system defines for itself the circumstances within which all metaphysical systems are to be tested, so that proponents of rival systems can hardly expect to find circumstances within which all metaphysical systems are to be tested, … The metaphysician is thus confronted with a unique problem, unlike any faced by the scientist, when he tries to convince his fellow metaphysicians of the plausibility, truth, and evidence of his own system. [29]

In short, because of the hierarchical structure of thought (e.g. conclusions are based on premises, inference, facts, etc.), the foundation determines the possible validity of the whole structure.

There are at least three types of wrong assumptions. The first is total skepticism. The complete skeptic can’t deny the validity of all statements, for he then must stand in suspension in relationship to them. But one must make decisions in order to live: therefore no true skeptic is alive and no one alive is a true skeptic. The second bad assumption is the appeal to an infallible authority on no other basis. There is more than one candidate for authority, and therefore one’s authority must be selected on one of two bases: according to one’s desires, or according to reasons, facts, etc. Whatever the criterion turns out to be is really the ultimate assumption: not the authority cited. One might, after reflection, appeal to an authority, but this appeal is not a rock-basic assumption unless it is completely arbitrary.

There is a third type of mistaken assumption, and that is the appeal to assumptions of “fact” rather than “method.” Because of the necessity of making assumptions, some feel that any old presupposition whatever is justified. The problem with this should be obvious. One must select his assumptive facts on the basis of desire or reason, just as in the case of infallible authority; and this basis is the true assumption which determines and underlies the selection. One is clearly begging the question if one assumes facts that in turn stand in need of verification. One might find a comfortable world-view in this way, but would be sheer luck indeed if one were to blindly hit upon reality putting this technique to use.

Actually, those who employ this method often really mean “working hypothesis” when they say “presupposition”, offering to test this hypothesis on the basis of coherence, correspondence with observable facts, etc. The difference between a true assumption and such an hypothesis is that in the latter, one if willing to reject his construct when it is refuted by the facts and by logic, while in the former, there nothing allowable in its refutation.

One example of the danger of faulty assumptions , in that it leads to circular reasoning and ignorance of the pertinent facts, is Gandhi’s statement (referred to in Chapter One). He says that he was raised from boyhood to judge scripture according to its ethical content, therefore he is not interested in the historical Jesus – therefore, if Jesus happened to say something which suggested a new perspective of scripture, Gandhi would be unable (and indeed is unable) to respond to this because he has ruled out the possibility a priori. This is the reason that he claims “all religions say the same thing”, when a careful study of the salient facts might suggest otherwise. Whatever the facts may be, he is closed to them by his assumption.

5

What are we to do when we see that our assumptions are in conflict? The best course would be, after making our assumptions explicit, to find out which ones are really the most ultimate, and which ones make the most sense. We have looked at some faulty assumptions: total skepticism, appeal to arbitrary authority, appeal to presuppositions of factual content. The best sort of assumption would be that which is not capable of being doubted; if such can be found, and if we can limit our assumptions to such indubitable propositions, then we will have found solid, common ground from which to build. These assumptions would be those which all men need in understanding the world; to deny them would be tantamount to denying all knowledge whatsoever. But can we find these indubitable propositions that underlie all experience?

6

Rene’ Descartes has an interesting approach to this problem. He was in search of this very principle: that which is really certain, that which cannot be doubted. He reasons: sometimes my sense mislead me, and the judgment I make can’t always be trusted; similarly, even my dreams sometimes pass themselves off as real. How can I know something is true to such a degree that I can be sure? He even takes it a step further. Suppose there exists an evil God who makes it his business to systematically fool me at each point; what can I know then?

I have just convinced myself that nothing whatsoever existed in the world, that there was no sky, no earth, no minds, and no bodies; have I not thereby convinced myself that I did not exist? Not at all; without doubt I existed if I was convinced. Even though there may be a deceiver of some sort, very powerful and very tricky, who bends all his efforts to keep me perpetually deceived, there can be no slightest doubt that I exist, since he deceives me; and let him deceive me as much as he will, he can never make me be nothing as long as I think that I am something. Thus, after having thought well on this matter, and after examining all things with care, I must finally conclude and maintain that this Proposition: I am, I exist, is necessarily true every time that I pronounce it or conceive it in my mind. [30]

Even in the process of systematically doubting everything, I the doubter exist; therefore my own existence is something that is indubitable. Cogito ergo sum – I think, therefore I exist. More than an inference as such, I know immediately and certainly that I exist.

Similarly I know that I experience – not that my experience is “such-and-such”, but simply that I experience. I am not certain that my judgment of the ontological status of a particular experience is absolutely correct, but I do know immediately (literally, without mediation) and certainly that I experience what seems be “x.” The tree I perceive may not in fact be a tree after all, but I am clear that I perceive in my field of perception what seems to be a tree. John Stuart Mill agrees with this:

Whatever is known to us by consciousness is known beyond possibility of question. What one sees or feels, whether bodily or mentally, one can not but be sure that one sees or feels. No science is required for the purpose of establishing such truths; no rules of art can render our knowledge of them more certain than it is in itself. There is no logic for this portion of our knowledge. [31]

Thus we see that the propositions “I exist” and “I experience” are immediate certainties, incapable of being doubted; they cannot be substantiated by anything prior to them. They must be assumed by faith. Therefore they are indeed two of the rock-bottom assumptions common to all inquiry that we have been looking for. Yet these bare facts don’t help us much until we can make judgments about our experience that are valid. What standard shall be applied when we judge our experience: what method will tell us how to effectively understand our world and ourselves?

7

When we set about to make judgments concerning our experience, we are committing ourselves to symbols, for all judgments take symbolic form. All language uses a small, finite group of symbols to express a very large finite number of possible experiences and relations. Therefore these symbols must be related in a formal way to express these experiences and relations. Ordinary language is often vague and ambiguous because of the wide range of application possible; for example, thinking and imagining are two different kinds of things (concepts vs. “pictures”) and are often confused.

To take one instance, I may think of “los Angeles” by picturing a freeway, tall buildings, and a lot of smog. This picture does not encompass all that I know about L.A., but simply stands for it in one of many possible senses. I might instead represent it by numbers (say, population), names (prominent figures), and events (dates and actions), without ever bringing the picture into view. The point of this is an obvious conclusion from applying a small group of symbols to a wide range of experience: all speech, all speech, is metaphorical in the highest degree unless we are pointing to a particular perception! C.S. Lewis has expressed this in a singularly cogent way:

When a man says that he grasps an argument he is using a verb (grasp) which literally means to take something in the hands, but he is certainly not thinking that his mind has hands or that an argument can be seized like a gun. To avoid the word grasp he may change the form of expression and say, “I see your point”, but he does not mean that a pointed object has appeared in his visual field. He may have a third shot and say, “I follow you”, but he does not mean that he is walking behind you along a road. Everyone is familiar with this linguistic phenomenon and the grammarians call it metaphor. But it is a serious mistake to think that metaphor is an optional thing which poets and orators may put into their work as a decoration and plain speakers can do without. The truth is that if we are going to talk at all about things which are not perceived by the senses, we are forced to use language metaphorically. Books on psychology or economics or politics are as continuously metaphorical as books of poetry or devotion. There is no other way of talking, as every philologist is aware. … All speech about supersensibles is, and must be, metaphorical in the highest degree. [31a]

The ambiguity prevalent in metaphorical talk has in large part given rise to a rigorous treatment of the nature of symbols and their proper use; this specialized language is that of logic and mathematics.

8

Bertrand Russell, noted logician and mathematician explains that logic and mathematics are closely related, if not two aspects of one thing. He does this by starting with premises belonging to the realm of logic, and – operating by deduction – he arrives at the symbolism proper to mathematics in analyzing their nature. Similarly, he reverses the process: by defining the cardinal numbers in symbolic logical form, and showing how to generalize the concept of number, he can analyze the conceptions involved, arriving at fundamental logical forms. [32]

The thing to remember is that pure logic does not operate within the area of particular instances, qualities, or substances, existent within the world. Particulars are of no importance to logic. Rather, it is concerned with purely formal relations (i.e. relations of logical form) and with relation as such. For example, it doesn’t deal with the question of “two apples plus two apples”, or “two unicorns plus two unicorns” but instead with the notion of two “anythings” plus to “anythings.” These pure forms are called “logical constants” (i.e. independent of particular instances and factual considerations). Russell explains this by saying:

Given a proposition, such as “Socrates is before Aristotle”, we have certain constituents and also a certain form. But the form is not itself a new constituent; if it were, we should need a new form to embrace both it and the other constituents. We can, in fact, turn all the constituents of a proposition into variables, while keeping the form unchanged. This is what we do when we use such a schema as “x R y”, which stands for any one of a certain class of propositions, namely, those asserting relations between two terms. … We are left with pure forms as the only possible constituents of logical propositions. [33]

In the general formal relation x R y, then, each term can be substituted with a particular (Socrates and Aristotle, for instance), and the meaning of the relation remains the same. Mathematical constants are a shorthand method of describing one sort of logical constant (number). Thus we are supplied with a strict and rigorous method of utilizing symbols unambiguously and consistently.

9

The application of logical relations can be done in two basic ways: deduction (operating from general relations, analyzing them into their constituent parts) and induction (operating from particular relations, generalizing them into more-or-less probable universal relations).

Deduction in symbolic logic reasons from the general to the particular: i.e. it operates definitions and axioms to that which is implied in those definitions. Thus it provides absolute certainly through tautology. Russell states that logic uses four assumed principles, from which all results can be deduced: (1) Formal implication (e.g. “Socrates is a man” = “x implies θ(x)”; (2) Implication between propositions having variables (the relation of variables with constants); (3) Relation of a term to its class; and (4) The notions of “such that”, relation, and truth. [34]

Induction is the method we use, operating from the particular to the general, of yielding probably knowledge of general relations. It must assume various relations in real life (e.g. uniformity of nature) to be applicable in any realm besides pure form. This is a process we use every day; for instance, all people expect the sun to rise tomorrow through induction (operating from various particulars (observations of its past actions), generalizing them into broader relations (it will rise in the future), which is only probably true. Even animals seem to use this principle, for it is the basis of training and conditioning. Russell notes that this principle can be misleading: “The man who has fed the chicken every day throughout its life at last wrings its neck instead, showing that more refined views as to the uniformity of nature would have been useful to the chicken.” [35]

There are three ways in which induction has been formally explained, each building on the predecessor.

If A and B are associated, and A and B are never disassociated, then the greater the number of instances, the greater the probability that they will be associated in the future cases, approaching (but never reaching) 100% certainty.

A further refinement of this is the cause/effect relation. [36] It would state that: B must have a cause. It is not C, D, E, etc. because they occur without B. And further (if capable of quantification), the more of A we see, the more of B. Then A must be the cause of B.

Another twist is to control the experiment, isolating A and B from other factors (C, D, E, etc.) that ordinarily might be present, in order to eliminate false inferences. [36a]

How can we prove that the induction principle is valid? Russell says: there is no way - one must assume it in order to prove it!

The inductive principle, however, is equally incapable of being proved by an appeal to experience. Experience might conceivably confirm the inductive principle as regards the cases that have been already examined; but as regards unexamined cases, it is the inductive principle alone that can justify any inference from what has been examined to what has not been not been examined. All arguments which, on the basis of experience, argue as to the future or the unexperienced parts of the past or present, assume the inductive principle; hence we can never use experience to prove the inductive principle without begging the question. Thus we must either accept the inductive principle on the ground of its intrinsic evidence, or forgo all justification of our expectations about the future. [37]

What justifies us in assuming the validity of reason? Simply this. Logic, i.e. deduction and induction, cannot be proved or even demonstrated, for they themselves are the source and criteria for all proof. We must either accept it or reject it. We must, if you will, take it on faith – or go without symbolic reasoning completely.

10

We have found that the New Testament idea of faith and belief are closely related to its notion of truth and knowledge. Its truth is one body of clearly defined set of propositions to be believed on the basis of Jesus’ and the apostles’ testimony, and to be fully known through entering into the personal relationship with God (which confirms the believed truth), which grows itself through trusting faith in Him. It is not a willful “leap in the dark”, without any reasonable basis, but is rather the response to the plain, sober, publicly-available, real truth. Any other belief is a lie, a myth, or a mistake.

Second, we have seen that the only place for the “willful” type of faith is where it is philosophically proper: that is, to those aspects of our knowledge-structure which are incapable of verification. These are the rock-bottom assumptions that all thought must entail. We must expose and make explicit our assumptions, for hidden assumptions create misunderstanding and argument-at-cross-purposes. These assumptions must not be merely skepticism, or an appeal to infallible authority, or an appeal to presuppositions of fact, but should in reality have two qualities: (1) They should be absolutely prior, and (2) They should be indubitable. All other propositions and judgments should then be based on them.

We have found three assumptions that meet these requirements. (1) I immediately know that I exist. (2) I immediately know that I experience. (3) We must use logic: deduction and induction, in ordering our experience in the best possible way. Any person who objects to any of these puts himself out of touch with all people and isolates himself from any conceivable communication. A person who denies his own existence or experience is insane; a person who denies reason is at best unreasonable. Even Tillich sees the sense in this:

There are two types of knowledge which are based on complete evidence and give complete certitude. The one is the immediate evidence of sense perception. He who sees a green color sees a green color and is certain about it. He cannot be certain whether the thing which seems to him green is really green. He may be under a deception. But he cannot doubt that he sees green. The other complete evidence is that of the logical and mathematical rules which are presupposed even if their formulation admits different and sometimes conflicting methods. One cannot discuss logic without presupposing those implicit rules which make the discussion meaningful. No truth is possible without the material given by sense perception and without the form given by the logical and mathematical rules which express the structure in which all reality stands. [38]

The next problem, of course, is: now that we have these standards of inquiry and sure assumptions, how can we best apply them to our experience in order to understand it?