Mere Truth is Loosed Upon the World
To answer the questions on my last post, I do believe that all cynics live a painful life, simply because God did not design us to live without hope; however, I do not believe that cynicism is the only recourse for those in pain. Of course I write largely from my own experience of myself and other people, but I'm not sure that that necessarily discounts what I have to say; I can't exactly write from someone else's point of view.
Before exploring the topic of Christianity and cynicism, I would like to note that cynical attitudes spring from one of two causes, and that answering a cynical person depends largely upon identifying these causes. These two causes correspond to the intellect and the emotion; some people are cynical because they are emotionally wounded, while others are cynical because of intellectual filters through which they view the world. In dealing with intellectual and emotional cynicism, we must remember the Proverb that tells us to "answer a fool according to his folly;" that is, we must answer emotional cynicism with emotion, and rational cynicism with rationality. One of the major problems with contemporary society is that it has witnessed modernity's unfortunate propensity to give coldly intellectual answers to emotional cynicism, and has therefore decided that postmoderns must return the favour by impotently flinging emotion at cynicism that demands an intellectually rigorous challenge.
From a Christian perspective, intellectual cynicism is conquered by realism. Through Christ, God has revealed to us the nature of reality; as we allow this revelation of reality to mold our perspectives, "intellectual" cynicism will be unmasked as a lie that is not grounded in reality. I stress the truth of Christian realism and the unrealistic nature of cynicism because the struggle between Christianity and intellectuall cynicism is largely a battle over the definition of reality. In contemporary society, cynicism has gained much ground by pointing out the fact that secular optimism - whether openly secular optimism, or secular optimism thinly veiled as Christianity - has no grounding in reality. Historically, we have witnessed the erosion of anthropocentric Enlightenment optimism as an increasingly Nietzschian pessimism reveals the unrealistic nature of this optimism. The destruction of this hollow optimism is just; however, Nietzschian pessimism has no more grounding in reality than does Enlightenment optimism. If we settle only for this dualism between pessimism and optimism, we are left with a bleak choice; either we must choose to groundlessly trust ourselves, or to groundlessly mistrust ourselves. Either way our decisions are arbitrary; we can excercise the tyrannical Enlightenment pursuit of power, which lacks the demonstrable ethical grounding necessary to keep it in check, or we can surrender to postmodern pseudo-pacifism, which is the Enlightenment pursuit of power masquerading as a rejection of that same power. Contemporary postmodernity gives us a wide variety of career choices - we can either be wolves, or wolves masqerading as lambs.
Christianity provides a fitting answer to this miserable postmodern crux. Instead of presenting another worldview that depends upon external verification (that is, a worldview that seeks its ultimate justification in fallible human constructs such as science, "nature," or history), Christ presents himself as the revealed standard by which all things must be measured. For instance, before asking whether Christ is a demonstrably historical person, we must first ask whether our construct of history is demonstrably Christian (I do not here mean to denigrate the study of history, but rather to critique the improper usage of it in Christian - and "Christian" - circles); I do not, of course, mean to question the fact that Jesus lived on earth in full physicality, as recorded infallibly in the gospels, but rather to question the methods of both conservative and liberal Christians, who insist on measuring Him according to narrow and fragile 21st Century constructs of history. God, I am sure, does not mind being measured by our highly limited measuring rods - after all, he allowed the first century Jews and Romans to fully judge Him by their contorted standards - but I think I had rather imitate his disciples in knowing and following Him than imitate the High Priest in judging Him.
If Christ is the ultimate grounds of reality, then cynicism must necessarily be exploded by the former's sheer inexorability as ultimate reality. Put in practical terms, hope is not a tame, sentimental idea which we weakly deploy because we like it a bit better than misery; rather, it is an incontrovertible fact, based in Christ, which overwhelms us and shatters our cynicism as effectively as the cliff shatters the storm tossed ship. Faith is not deliberate blindness to the cynicism that surrounds us, but, rather, it is the ability to see ultimate reality, which is the glory of God, and thereby to see that, in the light of eternity, cynicism is a nasty but impotent joke. Love is not a sentimental ideal that is sappy at best, and implausible at worst; rather it is embodied in an alarmingly persistent God, who will hunt us down even if make our beds in the very depths of Sheol. Thus, cynicism is shattered, not by the ungrounded benefits of socially useful virtues, but rather by the non-negotiable truth revealed through Christ and His Word.
In the next post, I will discuss the Christian response to emotional cynicism.
3 Comments:
First off, the frivolous: postmodern pseudo-pacifism? Are you making fun of me?
This entry is very Gregory Malick. (Without the 1960s positivist solution of "we can form a world council through which we can solve all the problems of Christianity in the university.) Oddly, I think I have both of our copies of that book.
I ended up discussing the challenges of the academic Christian in my Canadian history class last week. We were talking about religious history, and one of the claims that the presenting student put forward is that Canadian religious history has suffered in the last several decades, as many historians have had trouble understanding any sort of personal religious experience, as a result of personal hostility toward religion, as a result of past hurts as a result of religion.
Then a lot of students got talking about how they've felt like they've had a steep learning curve into understanding certain parts of history (and especially to understanding Canada's ealier history) because they grew up without any awareness of anything religious.
I talked about the balancing act I've had to do, between working on young evangelical Christian students so that they don't reject the university as a place of evil (and so that they do their homework and understand that, by doing so, they are doing God's work), while at the same time being the insider voice regarding Christianity in the classroom.
Pacificism may not be the best word for what I meant - I was merely trying to describe the milquetoast PC movement that pretends to eschew power; people in this movement are usually pacifists in the technical sense, but I was using the word to describe their pretense to surrender to everything, not just their allowance for military and political tyranny. By the way, what did you think of my discussion of history? I didn't mean to bash history, but only the abuse of history - I hope it didn't sound too anti-historical.
I'm excited about your class discussion regarding Christianity and history. Andrew and I recently had similar experiences at the grad conference last weekend. Andrew used Derrida to interpret a French play that was obviously steeped in post-structuralism. While these topics may not initially seem conducive to Christian themes, he used them to subtly point out that life without God is meaningless - that is, Derridean. I gave a presentation on my thesis, and was able to end with the following paragraph:
While I have presented the wisdom literature genre as a potential solution to a problem in Milton scholarship, I would also like to share my own personal reasons for considering wisdom literature an important genre. In a postmodern world, we are painfully aware of the contradiction and confusion that riddles our lives. In this confusing context, it is important to consider whether our gods – be they actual gods from a particular religion, or other “gods,” such as power, money, or sexuality – can justify themselves in the face of the tragedies that we encounter daily. Sometimes, we will find that our gods are powerless not only to adequately provide answers in the face of suffering, but also to aid sufferers in their tragic existence. Conversely we may possibly discover a God who does adequately justify himself in the face of suffering, a God who will allow us to echo the final verse of
Ecclesiastes, even as we survey the bleak “vanity” of the world: “Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter: Fear God, and keep his commandments: for this is the whole duty of man. For God shall bring every work into judgment, with every secret thing, whether it be good, or whether it be evil"(Eccles. 12:13-14).
Personally, the study of wisdom literature has challenged, shaped, and expanded my own conceptions of both God and human suffering; it is my hope that this brief outline of wisdom literature will encourage you to further explore this intriguing genre as you seek to unravel the mysteries that lie under – and beyond – the sun.
A warmly attentive look at intellectual/emotional cynicism in light of Christian faith. I have been working on a book about this topic for several months entitled "A Beautiful Rebellion". One of the things that I've stumbled upon along the way is the role that beauty plays in reshaping our souls for service in God's kingdom. If Dostoyevsky is right, then the battle over cynicism hinges on whether or not we allow the beauty of God to have it's way in us. I'd love to discuss this matter further.
Lovely words. I look forward to reading more.
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