CAPÍTULO II: FUNDAMENTO TEÓRICO
C. Antecedentes y Estado del Arte
Mitchell’s most developed defence of his own approach to the justification of religious belief may be found in a book of that very title.47 Denying that God’s
44 Ibid. 45 Ibid., 131. 46
Mitchell spends more time than I have thus far indicated in sympathetically exploring what Burke calls ‘prejudice with the reason involved,’ citing Edmund Burke, Reflections on the Revolution in France (1790): see page 121. In this lecture and subsequent writings, particularly Faith and Criticism
(1994),Mitchell emphatically, extensively, and persuasively insists that strict neutrality is impossible and that firm commitment to our beliefs, as well as to the tradition and community in which they are embedded, is in fact a necessary intellectual virtue, even when the evidence may seem to run against such beliefs. Indeed, in many ways Mitchell comes close to the hermeneutical position associated with Hans-Georg Gadamer (1900-2002). But he still rejects the overtures of fideism: such non-neutral commitment must still be held rationally and can never be invulnerable to critique.
47 Cited in note 20 above. For another articulation of Mitchell’s approach to religious epistemology,
written a few years before ‘Two Approaches to the Philosophy of Religion,’ see his ‘Faith and Reason: A False Antithesis?’, in Religious Studies 16 (1980), 131-144; reprinted in How to Play Theological Ping-Pong, 132-150.
existence can be either conclusively proved or disproved, Mitchell suggests that religious epistemologists should move away from both isolated formal deductive arguments and attempts at strict probability and instead embrace a cumulative case approach. ‘On this view,’ he says, ‘the theist is urging that traditional Christian theism makes better sense of all the evidence available than does any alternative on offer, and the atheist is contesting the claim.’48 This less formal approach, Mitchell
states, is closer to the standard methodology used in the critical exegesis of literary texts and historical interpretation. However, he argues that this approach is in fact also the best way to adjudicate competing claims for the rationality of rival metaphysical systems and world-views, including specific religions.49
And here, perhaps surprisingly, Mitchell draws on the well-known work of Thomas Kuhn in The Structure of Scientific Revolutions to argue that, at least when it comes to evaluating major theoretical frameworks such as classic Newtonian physics versus Einsteinian relativity theory (Kuhn’s ‘paradigms’), this is the standard pattern of actual scientific reasoning as well.50 Mitchell contends that the most fruitful way
forward for literary, historical, scientific, metaphysical, and religious thinking is basically the same: the careful consideration of cumulative evidence and argument.
48
Mitchell, The Justification of Religious Belief, 40. For a discussion of the significance of Mitchell’s work in reviving such arguments in contemporary religious epistemology, see William J. Abraham, ‘Cumulative Case Arguments for Christian Theism,’ in Abraham and Holtzer (eds.), The Rationality of Religious Belief, 17-37.
49
For an interesting historical study arguing that the sort of probabilistic, cumulative case reasoning defended by Mitchell and Abraham in philosophy of religion is distinctive to the English intellectual tradition more broadly, see Barbara J. Shapiro, Probability and Certainty in Seventeenth-Century England: A Study of the Relationships Between Natural Science, Religion, History, Law, and Literature
(Princeton University Press, 1983).
50
See T. S. Kuhn, The Structure of Scientific Revolutions (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1962). Kuhn published a second enlarged edition in 1970. David Brown also notes Mitchell’s appeal to Kuhn in Tradition and Imagination: Revelation and Change (Oxford University Press, 1999), 37.
Although he acknowledges that there are ‘peculiarities of the religious case which prevent us from assimilating it to the others,’ the analogies are still sufficiently strong to save religion from the charge of irrationality. Thus, ‘the same sort of disagreement as occurs between theists and atheists is also found between proponents of rival scientific paradigms and rival philosophical theories.’51
However, considering the critiques of Kuhn made by Imre Lakatos and others, Mitchell denies that choosing between such rival paradigms and theories is itself an irrational or—perhaps better—non-rational, ‘sociological’ act. In short, Mitchell rejects any form of conceptual relativism or intellectual imprisonment within certain frameworks or systems of thought.52 Although such frameworks and systems are real,
their boundaries are permeable and thinking agents can, albeit with difficulty, decide between them, even if this means leaving one firmly held paradigm for another. Mitchell tentatively concludes that, in religious disagreements no less than in science and philosophy, ‘although the disputes which arise cannot be settled by appeal to strict proof or inductive probabilities, nevertheless it is in principle possible for one side or the other to be rationally preferred because it makes better sense of all the available evidence.’53 The interim conclusion of his overall argument is thus that
in its intellectual aspect, traditional Christian theism may be regarded as a world-view or metaphysical system which is in competition with other such systems and may be judged by its capacity to make sense of all the available evidence. It has been argued that it is an error to hold that such expressions as ‘make sense of’ can only be understood in terms of particular systems, for this is to presuppose what I have been contesting, that reasoning is always to be construed as following rules, whose character may to some extent vary from one system to another.54
51
Mitchell, The Justification of Religious Belief, 75.
52 See especially Chapter 5, ‘Rational Choice between Scientific Paradigms,’ 75-95. 53
Ibid., 75. In this precise quotation Mitchell is actually raising the possibility rather than drawing the conclusion, but this is the position he finally reaches at the end of the book.
Having reached this point, however, Mitchell then turns to consider the previously admitted ‘peculiar’ character of religious belief that strains the analogies with literature, history, science, and philosophy. And this returns him to the subject- matter of ‘Neutrality and Commitment,’ for it is precisely the distinctive character of religious commitment that sets it apart from these other forms of belief. Unlike beliefs in literature, history, science, philosophy, or even politics (the closest analogy yet), religious faith is often thought to be completely unconditional, held without (or even in spite of) any reference to reason or evidence. One does not commit oneself to God by degree: it’s all or nothing.55 To this, Mitchell replies in classic philosophical
fashion by making a distinction. He writes: ‘these claims cannot be gainsaid. There is a sense in which Christian faith is unconditional. The only way out of this impasse is to conclude that the sense in which faith is unconditional is a different one, which is indeed peculiar to a theistic religion.’56 This unconditional sense of ‘faith’, which he
defines as ‘trusting reliance upon God’ (fiducia) is ‘analogous to faith in a person, which is a necessary condition of any stable and profound personal relationship, and must go beyond the evidence that is ordinarily available to justify it.’57
However, Mitchell then makes the crucial comment that such unconditional faith nevertheless presupposes that God does, in fact, exist. ‘Thus,’ Mitchell argues,
55
For an extended popular expression of such a view, one which seems completely untouched by current discussions in either philosophy of religion or philosophy of science, see Richard Dawkins, The God Delusion, revised and updated paperback edition (Transworld Publishers / Black Swan, 2007). According to Dawkins, faith is ‘belief without evidence’ (232) and, as such, evil. Faith ‘is an evil precisely because it requires no justification and brooks no argument.’ (347) While such a view of faith is certainly fideistic, it is likewise certainly not what Mitchell and most other philosophers of religion and / or theologians mean by faith. See my review of The God Delusion, along with contributions from Graham Kemp, Sarah Nohavicka, and Nicolas Helm-Grovas, in Foundation: The Journal of the St Chad’s College Foundation V (2008), 64-75.
56
Mitchell, The Justification of Religious Belief, 139.
although there is a Christian duty to trust in God, this does not imply a duty, let alone an unconditional duty, to go on believing that there is a God. Indeed, once it is admitted to be a genuine possibility that there is no God and that the case against his existence might become cumulatively overwhelming, it is pointless to maintain that that one ought to go on believing nevertheless that there is a God, even when the belief could be seen to be false.58
In other words, ‘the requirement of unconditional faith is one which has its place within the system of theistic belief and cannot be properly interpreted as an obligation
to continue to embrace the system itself.’59 Just like any other metaphysical
paradigm, the system of theistic belief must be rationally accepted or rejected on the basis of its ‘capacity to make sense of all the available evidence.’ Only once the system has been adopted, on rational grounds, does the duty of unconditional trust in God come into play.
In his later book Faith and Criticism, Mitchell reiterates this precise argument, but then explicitly attributes it to Farrer as well: ‘As Austin Farrer once put it, “God cannot be trusted to exist”.’60 Although he does not provide a citation, Mitchell is
perhaps referring to the first chapter of Farrer’s 1964 book Saving Belief, titled ‘Faith and Evidence.’ And here, although Farrer does not write those precise words as given above, he does indeed express a similar position to Mitchell’s. Farrer writes: ‘The difficulty of religious faith may be put in a nutshell. How can an attitude of trustfulness, evidently appropriate to God if he exists, be appropriate to a decision whether he exists or not? I can trust him if he exists, how can I trust him to exist?’61
58
Ibid., 139-140.
59
Ibid., 140. According to Dawkins, this is precisely what religious people fail to recognise.
60
Mitchell, Faith and Criticism (cited in note 20 above), 65.
61
Austin Farrer, Saving Belief: A Discussion of Essentials (Hodder and Stoughton, 1964), 15. ‘Faith and Evidence’ was reprinted in Ann Loades and Robert MacSwain (eds.), The Truth-Seeking Heart: Austin Farrer and His Writings (Canterbury Press, 2006), 168-184, and this passage may be found on page 171. Farrer makes an almost identical claim in his later book, A Science of God? (Geoffrey Bles, 1966), 9-10.
However, two important questions emerge at this point: (1) is the epistemological perspective Farrer articulates in 1964’s ‘Faith and Evidence’ indeed identical to Mitchell’s; and (2) does it differ from the position Farrer takes three years later in 1967’s ‘The Believer’s Reasons’ (the text Mitchell found so unsatisfactory)? I will argue in Chapter Four that even ‘Faith and Evidence’ is more fideistic than Mitchell would like, and that Farrer’s putative shift from 1964 to 1967 is subtle but genuine.62
Returning to Mitchell’s ‘Two Approaches to the Philosophy of Religion,’
which begins by admitting his initial unhappiness with Farrer’s Faith and
Speculation, and then compares and contrasts Swinburne’s ‘rationalist’ approach with Wolterstorff’s ‘fideist’ one, it is vital to note that Mitchell’s aim in that essay is not purely exegetical, but an attempt to ‘reconcile’ both rationalistic and fideistic
approaches—both Swinburne and Wolterstorff—into a single via media.63 And his
investigation finds that, in fact, ‘under examination, both positions needed to be modified, in each case in a direction that brings it closer to the other.’64 It is this
intermediate position that Mitchell identifies and claims as his own. He also hopes it was Farrer’s. Thus, Mitchell concludes that he personally ‘should want to remain a
theoretical rationalist but a practicing fideist,’ and ‘should like to think that this was Farrer’s viewpoint too’.65
62
Douglas Hedley discusses Mitchell’s Faith and Criticism and its relation to Farrer’s own religious epistemology at some length in ‘Austin Farrer’s Shaping Spirit of Imagination’ in Hebblethwaite and Hedley (eds.), The Human Person in God’s World, 106-134, especially 106-113. While I agree that Farrer was a great influence on Mitchell (see Section I.A above), for reasons that will become clear as we go along I am less confident than Hedley that we can describe Faith and Criticism as ‘in part, a creative instance of Farrer’s rich legacy in philosophical theology’ (106) without also acknowledging the ebb and flow of Farrer’s own thought. Mitchell’s work in general and Faith and Criticism in particular is perhaps a more legacy of the ‘early’ Farrer than of the ‘late’ Farrer.
63
Mitchell, ‘Two Approaches to the Philosophy of Religion,’ 178.
64
Ibid., 186.
II. The Case Against (All) Fideism
After Basil Mitchell, the British figure most associated with Farrer’s philosophical legacy is Brian Hebblethwaite (b. 1939). A Life Fellow of Queens’ College, Cambridge, Hebblethwaite was Dean of Chapel at Queens’ from 1969 to 1994, University Lecturer in the Philosophy of Religion in the Faculty of Divinity at Cambridge from 1973 to 2000, and Canon Theologian of Leicester Cathedral from 1983 to 2001. Although perhaps more accurately described as a ‘philosophical theologian’ than a ‘philosopher of religion,’ Hebblethwaite is a widely respected and influential scholar working at the intersection of philosophy and theology.66 Through
a combination of exegetical and constructive publications, and also by co-editing two of the most important essay-collections on Farrer, Hebblethwaite has—even more explicitly than Mitchell—taken on the specific task of interpreting and defending Farrer’s work on a range of issues and incorporating his voice into contemporary discussions in systematic theology and philosophy of religion. And, even more than Mitchell, Hebblethwaite has been concerned to rebut any charge of fideism from Farrer’s religious epistemology.67
66
See Hebblethwaite’s basic biography at http://www.giffordlectures.org/Author.asp?AuthorID=245 (the Gifford Lectures website, accessed on 18 April 2008). See also the recent Festschrift, Julius J. Lipner (ed.), Truth, Religious Dialogue, and Dynamic Orthodoxy: Essays in Honour of Brian Hebblethwaite (SCM Press, 2005).
67
Hebblethwaite’s work on Farrer has covered a thirty-year span: see the recent collection of most of these essays in his The Philosophical Theology of Austin Farrer (Peeters, 2007), and my review in
International Journal of Systematic Theology 11 (2009), 365-367. The two essay collections, both of which are essential volumes for Farrer studies, are Brian Hebblethwaite and Edward Henderson (eds.),
Divine Action: Studies Inspired by the Philosophical Theology of Austin Farrer (T & T Clark, 1990) and Brian Hebblethwaite and Douglas Hedley (eds.), The Human Person in God’s World: Studies to Commemorate the Austin Farrer Centenary (SCM Press, 2006). See Charles Taliaferro’s review of the earlier volume in Faith and Philosophy 10 (1993), 119-123, and my review of the later volume in