Tuesday, August 21, 2012

The Noetic Effects of Sin

“Whenever you reason with others about anything, you assume an ability in yourself and in them to think logically. You do not hesitate for a moment, wondering if what you hear and see exists as you observe it. As a rule, you go through life with a feeling of complete certainty. We have not ceased being reasonable creatures because of sin, and as we compare our existence with that of animals, we are fully conscious of the superiority our reason has given us. The power we have gradually acquired over the animals and the whole world is so plain as to convince us that our research and thinking are sound. It cannot be denied that the darkening of sin is noticeable here. How many are not terribly weak in logical capacity? How many errors do we not constantly find in our reasoning? How often is our observation deceived by appearances? How slowly do our investigations plumb their full depths! How hard have we not studied for an exam or for a job without any inspiration of holy enthusiasm? All this, however, amounts to a partial break, not a complete obstruction.”


No, the real darkening of sin is found in something completely different, in our having lost the gift to comprehend the true context, the proper coherence, the systematic unity of things. We now view things just outwardly, not in core and essence; hence, also, each thing individually, not things together in their connection and origin in God. (Ed: the Biblical concept of truth, as each thing related to Creation and The Creator) That connection, the coherence of things in their original relation with God, can be felt only in our spirit. It does not lie in things outside of us and therefore could be well considered only so long as our spirit stayed in vital connection with God and could trace the thought of God in that coherence. Precisely this characteristic our human mind possessed at its pure creation, and precisely this is lost when sin cut off the vital bond uniting us to God. As a dog or bird sees the bricks of a palace, the wood and plaster, maybe the colors, but comprehends nothing of the architecture, the style, the purpose of the rooms and windows, so we stand with darkened understanding before the temple of creation. We see the parts but no longer have an eye for the style of the temple, no longer can guess at its architect, and so can no longer understand the temple of creation in its unity, origin, and destiny. We are like an architect bereft of his sense who once could grasp the building as a whole but now peeping from the window of his cell, stares fixedly at walls and peaks without comprehending the motif…”


Science does not only consist of examining wood, stone, and metal but becomes essential science when it knows how to capture the whole as in a mirror. The darkening of sin thus does not concern the knowledge of details, but science in its higher and more noble conception. As long as non-human creation is studied independently of God, then science still produces its miracles by a careful analysis of things and not by a search for laws governing their movement. But you cannot reckon so with man. Instead, you will come to face spiritual questions that bring one into contact with the center of spiritual life, i.e., with God. Then all certainty disappears as school stands over against school, program against program, until full-blown despair at last overcomes the investigators. They will still make some progress in knowledge of the human body and of what comes forth from the mind in a material way, but as soon as they tread on real spiritual ground, everything runs on guesses and assumptions, on the supersession of system by system, and finally on doubt and skepticism.”


Spiegel states how difficult it is for the noetic framework of atheism to discuss evil. "The very notion of “evil” presupposes a standard for goodness which atheism cannot provide. Any notion of evil or, for that matter, how things ought to be, whether morally or in terms of natural events, must rely on some standard or ideal that transcends the physical world. Only some form of supernaturalism, such as theism, can supply this. So to the extent that atheists acknowledge the reality of evil, they depart from their own commitment to naturalism."


Spiegel discusses the controversial thesis of Paul Vitz; viz., the idea that many atheists are that way because of broken relationships with their fathers. Spiegel says: "In his provocative little book, The Faith of the Fatherless, psychologist Paul Vitz surveys the major, and many of the minor, atheist scholars of the modern period. He finds that the one thing these thinkers—e.g., Hobbes, Voltaire, Hume, Nietzsche, Russell, Freud, Sartre, etc.—have in common is a severely broken relationship with their father. In accounting for atheism, Vitz turns the tables on Freudians who aim to explain away theistic belief as a cosmic projection of one’s father image. In fact, the opposite seems to be the case: atheists’ broken father relationships prompt their refusal to recognize the reality of God."


Surely any strong atheist will protest, even finding Spiegel's thesis silly. But the Plantingian point that is being made is that, of course it will appear silly given one's naturalistic noetic framework. The real issue is that of adjudicating between such frameworks.