On The Good Life and Games

1. Introduction

I aim to assess the fictional life of Herman Hesse’s protagonist Joseph Knecht, of The Glass Bead Game. I address two central questions in relation to his life: (i) Was Knecht’s life a good life for its subject? Furthermore, (ii) was Knecht’s life a life of playing games, and, if it was, does it count for or against the goodness of the subject’s life? In my reply to (i), I engage in serious discussion with Hurka’s work, The Best Things in Life; likewise, in my reply to (ii), I discuss central issues from Suits’s work, The Grasshopper. In pursuing these questions, I conclude that Knecht’s life was, indeed, a good life for its subject, his life was a life of games, but was not itself a game, and his involvement in game-playing contributes to the goodness of his life.

1. Framing the Questions

The answers provided to questions often depend on the nature of the question itself. Slight differentiations in phrasing can lead to exponential differentiations in the answer given. It is important, then, that the questions asked are fully understood before providing an answer. Let us take each question individually:

 

• Was Knecht’s life a good life for its subject?

 

A possible point of contention here lies in the phrase, “a good life for”. Is “a good life for” equivalent to “a valuable life relative to S”? Or, is “a good life for” equivalent to “a healthy life for S”? There are, then, two ways that this question can be taken, one of which I address in this paper and the other I do not. The first interpretation can be better understood when phrased, (i) “Is Knecht’s life a valuable life relative to its subject?”; the second interpretation can be better understood when phrased, (ii) “Is Knecht’s life a healthy life for its subject?”. I address the former and do not confront the latter.

 

• Was Knecht’s life a life of playing games, and, if it was, does it count for or against the goodness of the subject’s life?

 

I see at least two ways to interpret the question at hand. Namely, (i) “Was Knecht’s life numerically identical to a game, and, if it was, does it count for or against the goodness of the subject’s life?” and (ii) “Was Knecht only ever playing games during his life, but have the option not to, and, if he was, does it count for or against the goodness of the subject’s life?”. The first of these two questions yields a far more interesting discussion, seeing as it is fairly clear that most of Knecht’s life was engaged in game playing (as we will shall see in due time). Therefore, I will engage in a detailed response of (i) and will only briefly examine (ii).

 

• Moving Forward

 

Here are the questions at hand:

1. Is Knecht’s life a good life relative to its subject?

2a. Was Knecht’s life numerically identical to a game, and if it was, does it count for or against the goodness of the subject’s life?

2b. Was Knecht only ever playing games during his life, but have the option not to, and, if he was, does it count for or against the goodness of the subject’s life?

With these refined and further understood questions, it is now possible to move forward and begin an assessment of Joseph Knecht’s life.

III. A Good Life Relative To Its Subject

 

• An Overview of Hurka

 

In his book The Best Things in Life, Hurka provides an account of what things one may pursue in order to attain a good life. Hurka offers a pluralistic view, suggesting that there are a number of goods that one can pursue, but it is best to seek a well-rounded life with only slight specialization in a certain good. Here are a few examples of goods that Hurka discusses:

1. Pleasure,
2. Knowledge,
3. Achievement, and
4. Virtue.

Hurka’s view, then, can be demonstrated by relating two of the goods to one another in a counterfactual life. Consider a person who has the competing goods of achievement and knowledge (it is easiest to simplify and only compare two goods, rather than all four). This person can either (i) pursue as much achievement as is possible, (ii) pursue as much knowledge as is possible, (iii) pursue a well-rounded amount of both, or (iv) pursue both, but specialize in one more than the other.

(i) and (ii) inevitably lead to diminishing returns, suggests Hurka. For if one pursues as much achievement as is possible, at some point a finite amount of further achievement will have drastically less value than gaining a finite amount of knowledge. The same holds conversely. (iii) also has problems, though. For if one pursues a balanced, well-rounded amount of both goods, then one will be unable to attain a significant amount of either good. Hurka shows this with a simple example:

“The pursuit of well-roundedness is therefore most counterproductive when it stops you from acquiring any fundamentals, as when trying to learn twenty languages leaves you knowing the grammar of none”.

A well-rounded life has the problem of dissipating one’s energies and ultimately yielding little gain. This leaves the individual with (iv): pursue both goods, but specialize in one more than the other. Aiming for (iv) avoids the problem of diminishing returns associated with (i) and (ii), while also avoiding the problem of counterproductivity associated with (iii).

 

• An Overview of Joseph Knecht

 

Let us now turn to Joseph Knecht, the protagonist of Herman Hesse’s novel, The Glass Bead Game. In the fictional biography, Knecht is a talented young student of music in Castalia, the world’s hub of intellectual activity. Knecht excels to great heights throughout school, becoming “Magister Ludi”, a sort of director of the Glass Bead Game. The game focuses exclusively on making deep connections between various art forms and philosophy, but is only ever described vaguely and with no concrete detail. Ultimately, and through much introspection, Knecht chooses to leave Castalia to pursue the uniting of Castalian ideals with the outer-world. Soon after his departure, Knecht drowns as a consequence of never having learned to swim.

 

• Hurka and Knecht

 

The question of goodness in relation to Knecht’s life is particularly intriguing, considering both his vast life achievements and apparent gaining of knowledge. Let us take each life good individually.

1. Pleasure

Knecht’s pursuit of pleasure is not something covered in the book, for the most part. It is fair to assume, however, that Knecht gained pleasure through the attainment of the other goods, for many times when someone achieves or comes to know something, they experience pleasure over its being reached. It is fair to assume, then, that Knecht did come to experience pleasure as a consequence of the other goods.

We can draw an important distinction, here, which Hurka does not make in his book, but needs to be shown. Of the goods in one’s life, one can have intended goods and/or one can have side-effect goods. An intended is good is such a good that one attains through the activity of the will, while a side-effect good is such a good that one attains as a consequence of the attainment of other goods. A person that attains great achievement through his activation of the will is gaining an intended good. The pleasure that he consequently has from his achievement is a side-effect good.

A clear question then arises: Is the attainment of a side-effect good of the same value as the attainment of a good that one intended to come into the possession of? The intuitive answer is “no”. Our feeling toward this question suggests that working toward something adds some amount of value to the object, once it has been acquired. Nonetheless, a side-effect good is certainly of some value, which must, then, add to the good of one’s life.

1. Knowledge

There are two sorts of “knowledge” that Knecht encounters throughout his life. The first is the ethereal knowledge found in the glass bead game, which is, arguably, the vast majority of Knecht’s knowledge; the second is an introspective/extrospective knowledge of the world, which is a definite minority of Knecht’s knowledge (evidenced by his absurdist death, due to the lack of knowledge of basic life skills).

Hurka argues that there are three kinds of knowledge: knowledge of the self, knowledge of the world, and knowledge of how the self relates to the world. If this is the case, then a vast majority of Knecht’s knowledge does not fit in with Hurka’s definition. The glass bead game does not necessarily yield knowledge (as Hurka defines it) for it does not seem to require an accurate reflection of the goings on of the world, self, or the relation between the two. Rather, it only requires that one makes “deep connections” between the various art pieces and philosophy. But, again, it is not necessary that these connections hold true in the world outside of the game.

By the end of the book, Knecht realizes the weakness of Castalia and sets out to experience the outer-world. This directly implies that he realizes some truth about the world and his relation to it (namely, that he desires the uniting of Castalia and the outer-world). Furthermore, throughout the novel Knecht displays vasts amount of self-knowledge. Therefore, Knecht achieves knowledge of the world, self, and the relation between the world and the self (however limited this knowledge may be).

1. Achievement

The final good that is left for discussion is also the most obviously attained good in Knecht’s life. Hurka defines achievement as “master[ing] reality by imposing an idea on it”. One forms a goal in one’s mind and makes it so that the idea is realized in the world. Knecht clearly engages in this pursuit. All things that Knecht puts his mind to, he excels at. But not only does he excel, Knecht manages to be recognized for his talents, leading to many societal achievements (but primarily that of becoming Magister Ludi).

1.  Sub-Conclusion

Knecht satisfies at least three of Hurka’s criteria. He is able to have the side-effect good of pleasure, and the intentional goods of knowledge and achievement. Under Hurka’s view, though, the best life is one that has a number of goods but is able to “specialize” (to some degree) in one good, in particular. Does Knecht manage this? I think, “yes”.

Taking the three goods we have discussed, let us see if any can be considered a “specialized intentional-good”. The first in our discussion, pleasure, is merely a side-effect good in Knecht’s life, which immediately disqualifies it, for intentional goods have greater value. Secondly, much of the knowledge gained in Knecht’s life may be meaningless connections made for the perpetuation of a game, which do not correspond to reality, the self, or the relation between the two. Because of this, it is safe to assume that this is not the good we are looking for. Lastly, then, we have achievement. This good is surely something that Knecht managed to specialize in. This is evident simply in the fact that Knecht achieves a number of things throughout the novel and they fulfill Hurka’s definition of achievement.

We have therefore seen that Knecht fulfills Hurka’s criteria. If we assume that Hurka’s view is the correct view on the good life and Knecht does fulfill his criteria, then Knecht’s life is, indeed, a good life relative to its subject.

1. Game as Life and Life as Game

 

• An Overview of Suits

 

In The Grasshopper, Suits defends the thesis that a central property of life is the playing of games. But even more than this, Suits suggests that the good life is the life spent playing games. How, though, does he define a game? He offers four properties that are necessary to call something a game:

1. A prelusory goal,
   1. This can be understood as the aim to achieve a certain state of lusory affairs.
2. Lusory means,
   1. This can be understood as the accepted rules, by which one attempts to reach the prelusory goal.
3. Constitutive rules,
   1. These make it so that the player is unable to use more efficient means for reaching the goal; or, in other words, it makes the task of the game more difficult by eliminating efficient ways of winning (or achieving the game’s end).
4. Lusory attitude.
   1. This is the state of being that accepts the rules for the sake of the game.

With these four conditions, we have Suits’s definition of “game”:

Definition: x is a game only if and because x has a prelusory goal, lusory means to reach that goal, constitutive rules that restrict one from using efficient means to reach that goal, and a lusory attitude toward the activity.

 

• Knecht’s life is not a game

 

If it is the case that Knecht’s life is numerically identical to a game, as in Knecht’s life=a game, then his life must fulfill all of Suits’s criteria. I argue that Knecht’s life (and life in general) does not fulfill Suit’s criteria. Which implies that Knecht’s life (and life in general) is not numerically identical to a game. If it can be shown that he fails to fulfill one of the properties of games, then a simple modus tollens argument can show the negation of Knecht’s life being numerically identical with a game.

To begin, I do grant that the “life-game” may be able to fulfill the prelusory goal, lusory means criteria, and lusory attitude conditions. I will not attempt to define or explain how the latter two conditions might be fulfilled in any substantive way, though; later, I will offer some explanation of the first condition, for clarification. I argue that Knecht fails to fulfill the constitutive rules condition. Here is my argument in Standard Formulation, for lucidity in our discussion:

1. If Knecht’s life is numerically identical to a game, then there are some rules set in place that limit his efficiency in reaching his prelusory goal.
2. There are no rules set in place that limit his efficiency in reaching his prelusory goal.
3. /:. It is not the case that Knecht’s life is numerically identical to a game. (1,2,MT)

The argument is valid. Premise (1) is true, by definition; for if we grant Suits’s description of a game, then his third necessary condition must be fulfilled. Our conclusion also follows logically from the premises. The question, then, is whether or not (2) can be defended. If the premise does go through, then our conclusion will also be true.

Suits’s third condition is dependent on his first, in that the rules must make the goal more inefficient to reach. So, for example, if one’s game is to reach the top of a mountain, then some of the constitutive rules for the game could be to not fly to the top, take an escalator to the top, or teleport to the top. This adds the inefficiency of having to climb the mountain. What then, are some options for the prelusory goal of life? I will discuss the two that I find most intriguing:

1. The prelusory goal in life is to die well.

This option is enticing, since all humans die and the vast majority of humans want to die well. It can be argued further that much of living is done in order to achieve this end. Because of this, (1) is a possible candidate for the prelusory goal of the “life-game”.

1. The prelusory goal in life is to live well.

The second option is equally as enticing, for (perhaps aside from sociopaths, psychopaths, and self-destructive people) most humans desire to live well. This desire is manifested in vastly different, and often contradictory ways (ie. Hitler and Mother Teresa both desired to live well, but manifested these desires in drastically different ways). Even still, the base goal is often the same: to live well.

If (1) and (2) are our strongest candidates for life’s prelusory goal (which I assume to be the case, for an exhaustive list would require a paper of its own), what would be some constitutive rules that universally decrease the efficiency of achieving said goals?

All humans are born with certain limitations. Here are two of the most pertinent, which fall to two different problems:

1. Physical laws and natural laws,
2. Medical conditions, natural abilities, and social class.

(1) applies universally to all humans. Every person experiences the effects of gravity, the inability to experience the hottest of hots and the coldest of colds, and the inability to survive without certain nutritional necessities; moreover, the universality of physical and natural laws limits many things that persons could do in their absence. This universality is one possible benefit to physical laws being the constitutive rules of the life-game. There is a fatal flaw, however: physical laws do not limit a persons ability to reach the goals in question. Whether one can defy gravity holds little to no control over the efficiency to which one can either die well or live well. Because of this, (1) cannot be our constitutive rule.

(2) does decrease the efficiency in reaching the goal of the life-game. Medical conditions, natural abilities, and positioning of social class can all limit the ability to both die well and live well, to a certain degree. A problem arises, however, in the fact that they do not apply universally. One person may come into existence with critical medical conditions that inhibit their ability to live, while another does not (and the same holds true for natural abilities and social class). Constitutive rules apply universally (much like our mountain climbing case), which rules out (2) as a serious option.

We have, then, two possible prelusory goals for the life-game, each with two sets of possible constitutive rules. It has been shown that the rules do not fulfill Suits’s criteria. This defends the second premise of the argument, which allows the argument to go through. It is not the case, therefore, that Knecht’s life is not numerically identical to a game.

 

• Knecht’s life is a life of games

 

In the novel, Knecht certainly has a life of games. For one, he belongs to a society that has already set a prelusory goal, lusory means, and constitutive rules. Knecht is the variable that fulfills the final condition of having a lusory attitude. The bureaucratic structure of Castalia suggests that the prelusory goal is to contribute to the intellectual society (for Knecht, that is through the glass bead game). Moreover, Castalia has lusory means to reach this goal: the participation in their education system, and the escalation to greater, more prestigious schools, until one becomes part of the Order. Lastly, Castalia contains a number constitutive rules instituted through various hierarchicies, bureaucracies, and inefficient ways to reach the prelusory goal. Three of the conditions are fulfilled, then, by the society that Knecht lives in. The fourth condition is fulfilled by the individuals who resides in Castalia; they are the factor that perpetuates their life as a game. Knecht does decide to reside in Castalia with the lusory attitude that allows for the game to continue. Therefore, much of Knecht’s life is a life of games.

Of course, toward the end of the novel, Knecht departs from the Castalian society and aims to reconcile Castalian ideals with the outer-world. This part of Knecht’s life is not a game, for the same reason that Knecht’s life is not numerically identical to a game: he fails to fulfill Suits’s third criterion of constitutive rules. The argument runs quite similarly to the argument from the previous section:

1. If Knecht’s post-Castalian life is constituted by games, then there are some rules set in place that limit his efficiency in reaching his prelusory goal.
2. There are no rules set in place that limit his efficiency in reaching his prelusory goal.
3. /:. It is not the case that Knecht’s post-Castalian life is constituted by games. (1,2,MT)

Again, the argument is valid. And still further, (1) follows by Suits’s definition; (2) is justified by the same arguments provided in the past section; and (3) follows by modus tollens.

1.    Knecht’s life of games does add goodness to his life

It has been shown, thus far, that Knecht had periods of life consumed in game-playing. But the “goodness” of these periods depend on the conditions of Hurka’s view, which were discussed in depth earlier. If his life experiences a number of the goods and he minorly specializes in one, then he has lived a good life. The fact that Knecht has a life constituted primarily of games does not interfere with these goods being attained. In fact, two of the goods that he explicitly gains–pleasure and achievement–are achieved through his involvement with the Castalian game. His knowledge, as was shown, is primarily achieved outside of the game, for the Glass Bead Game does not necessarily produce true belief (let alone justified true belief concerning the self, the world, or the relation between the two), and thus does not necessarilly produce knowledge. Considering this, we have two goods added to Knecht’s life through game-playing and one good added to Knecht’s life outside of game-playing. It is quite clear, then, that his engagement with games did add to the goodness of his life.

1. Conclusion

It has been argued in this paper, through the philosophical views of Hurka and Suits, that the fictional life of Joseph Knecht is a good life relative to its subject. I showed this by first providing an account of Hurka’s conception of the good life, and an explanation of how Knecht fulfills his criteria. Next I demonstrated that Knecht’s life is not numerically identical to a game. This sub-conclusion was derived from discussion of Suits’s third necessary condition of game-playing. This led to the suggestion that his life was a life constituted by games. Consequently, these games added substantive goodness to Knecht’s life by providing an avenue for him to attain at least two of Hurka’s goods.

Works Cited

Hesse, Herman (1990). The Glass Bead Game. New York: Picador.

Hurka, Thomas (2011). The Best Things in Life: A Guide to What Really Matters. New York: Oxford UP.

Suits, Bernard (2005), The Grasshopper: Games, Life and Utopia, Broadview Press.

On David Lewis and Penal Substitution

I. Introduction

David Lewis’s famous essay Do We Believe in Penal Substitution offers insights into the Christian Theory of Penal Substitution (STPS) and Secular views of penal substitution, of which, there are multiple versions. Lewis defends the thesis that Christians are of two minds in relation to penal substitution, however, every person, Christian or non-Christian, is of two minds in relation to penal substitution; thus, non-Christians should not rebuke Christians for their two mindedness.

I will begin this paper summarizing primary tenets, definitions, and arguments that Lewis provides. Following this summary, I will evaluate Lewis’s responses to a specific argument against penal substitution, concluding that it does not sufficiently counter it. I will argue that the theory of penal substitution is not a viable theory and another theory should be adopted.

II. Preliminary Summary of Lewis

David Lewis begins his paper with a scenario designed to appeal to one’s intuition. Suppose that a criminal has been justly sentenced to be punished. In the courtroom, while the sentencing is occurring, an innocent friend of the criminal stands up and declares, “I will take the punishment for my friend.” The judge, considering the situation, has two options: either (i) allow the innocent friend to serve the criminal’s sentence, or else (ii) do not allow the innocent friend to serve the criminal’s sentence. It appears, intuitively, that (ii) is the more just option.

The fact that (ii) appeals to our intuition gives rise to an important question: What should we consider as the function of criminal punishment? Lewis addresses this question with six possible answers; they are:

(i) it is the paying back of a moral debt,

(ii) it is better for the wicked not to prosper,

(iii) it is an expression of society’s hatred of the wicked’s actions,

(iv) it is a means to reforming the character’s of the wicked,

(v) it is a way to deprive the wicked of their resources, or

(vi) it is a compensatory function.

It is clear that (i)-(v) do not allow for the substitution of an innocent friend to satisfy the function of punishment. (vi), however, does. Lewis, then, narrows his focus on the compensatory function of punishment (CFP). Here is his definition:

CFP: x is compensatory iff&b x provides a benefit to the victim of a crime.

It follows that an innocent substitute could serve the sentence instead of the guilty party, so long as it provides a benefit to the victim. There are a number of problems with CFP; two in particular are:

(i) A murderer’s victim cannot be compensated, as they are no longer alive, and

(ii) An innocent friend is not sufficient compensation to a given victim.

Lewis notes, then, that it seems that no reason exists for believing in penal substitution, given that penal substitution is defined as

Penal Substitution: a is an act of penal substitution iff&b in performing a, an innocent substitute is punished to repay the moral debt of a guilty person, rather than the guilty person repaying the moral debt.

There are many people who do believe in penal substitution, though; specifically, many Christians. According to a specific theory of the Doctrine of the Atonement (The Theory of Penal Substitution), (i) humans are guilty of sinning and have a “moral debt” to God, (ii) Christ served as an innocent substitute to pay the moral debt, and (iii) God recognizes Christ’s substitution as a valid payment. Thus, Christ is a valid penal substitute for our sins.

Even given the theory, outside of the context of theology, Christians still tend to deny penal substitution as a sufficient way to deal with crime. Lewis argues from this point to conclude that Christians are of two minds. They both believe in penal substitution and do not believe in penal substitution. Lewis, rightly so, thinks of this as a bad state to be in.

Lewis then discusses a second problem for the Atonement, of which I will primarily focus on in this paper. Here it is in Standard Form:

The Insufficient Payment Argument Against the Theory of Atonement (IPTA)

(1) Though death by crucifixion is a terrible occurrence, one soul suffering eternal damnation is an even more terrible occurrence.

(2) If (1), then Christ did not “pay the debt” for even one sinner by dying on the cross.

(3) /:. Christ did not “pay the debt” for even one sinner by dying on the cross.

The punishment we face for our wrongdoings is eternal punishment. Christ did not endure eternal punishment (which is far worse than crucifixion). So, he did not pay our debt. Lewis offers two replies to this argument:

(i) A denial of premise (1): Christ had to bear the sins of every human and be forsaken by God, so he was not only crucified.

And,

(ii) A denial of premise (2): Christ paid enough of the debt to save the sinners; an equation can show the denial’s strength: [death by crucifixion+the bearing of our sins+being forsaken by God]=a finite amount of damnation that is enough to forgive our wrongs.

Lewis suggests that these denials are sufficient to discount the IPTA argument. He then states that, in fact, all people (Christian and non-Christian) are of two minds about penal substitution, concluding that non-Christians should be tolerable of the Christian two mindedness, for they also are two minded. I, however, will focus on his denial of the IPTA argument.

III. Refutation of David Lewis

In this section, I will argue that Lewis did not sufficiently respond to the IPTA argument. From this argument, I will conclude that either (a) The Christian Theory of Penal Substitution is false and there is some alternative view, or (b) Christians must offer a sound response to IPTA. I will suggest that (a) is the preferable position to hold.

A. Response to the Denial of Premise (1)

What does “to bear the sins of x” entail? Let us say that I have sinned against my younger sister, seeing that I owe a moral debt to her, and failure to pay the debt will result in punishment, my older sister “bears my sin”, so as to reconcile my sibling relationship; what would that look like? I take at least two options for what it would entail:

(i’) She experiences the emotional response to the realization that I have sinned; ie. felt my guilt of wronging my sister.

Or,

(i’’) She experienced the literal transfer of my sin on to her “being”.

So, (i’) would entail an empathetic response; (i’’) would entail an incredibly strange metaphysical and moral “swap” of sin. Both options are clearly absurd, though. Empathy has no agency, it is only a personal response to another’s situation; an empathetic psychological state does not lead one to the “bearing” of the state of another person (ie. If one person empathizes with a starving person, they do not experience or bear the weight of starvation). (i’’) is even more absurd, though. Moral wrongdoing cannot be transferred to another person. I take it, then, that (i) is false, and premise (1) of IPTA still stands.

B.  Response to the Denial of Premise (2)

The second denial of Lewis appeals to an equation. Dealing with punishment of infinite proportion is tricky, so perhaps it would be easier to see an example of what Lewis is arguing. Consider a burglar case:

A burglar has just been convicted. An innocent bystander stands up and states, “I will serve the sentence for him. However, I will only serve the sentence until it has been sufficiently paid off! If the sentence is for 10 years and the victim feels the moral debt has been paid after five years, then I would like to be released after five years.”

The case, then, shows that, so long as the moral debt is sufficiently paid, full payment is not necessary. But this seems strange to say. It is trivializing the punishment. If we should suffer eternal damnation for our wrongdoings, no finite amount of suffering from one man will suffice for its payment. The proportions are simply incomparable.

What’s more, the second objection of Lewis appeals to the first objection, which has been shown to be flawed. Thus, it can be concluded that Lewis’s response to the IPTA argument is not sufficient. We cannot ignore the argument.

C. A Way Forward

Thus far, it has been shown that the IPTA argument still stands; penal substitutionists do not sufficiently respond to it. I see two directions forward:

(i) Do away with penal substitution as a theory of Atonement and look for alternative theories,

or

(ii) Offer other responses to the IPTA argument that do sufficiently respond to it.

I, myself, cannot see (ii) as feasible; the theory of penal substitution is riddled with flaws (many of which haven’t been presented in this paper). If (ii) is most likely not feasible, then we must do away with penal substitution as a theory of Atonement and look for alternative theories. I will not offer any substantive analysis of the other options, but they do exist. Namely, those of Eleonore Stump and Richard Swinburne, to name two.

IV. Conclusion

I have argued that David Lewis’s treatment of IPTA is insufficient in its refutation. The two responses, when looked at closely, do not hold weight. Because of this, IPTA still stands as a good argument against penal substitution, which leads us to only one option: do away with the theory of penal substitution and adopt another theory.

The Sickness Unto Death*

Hopeful, my soul reaches for far off stars,
forgetting the finite, my other half,
the relation of self is strewn afar.

Stuck in eternity, dread fills my chest;
my self will never end, everlasting.
Never, to the end of tim, will I rest.

A blend of the finite and infinite,
my self will forget its own reflection,
bringing what I fear: death of the spirit.

*A prolific book written by Soren Kierkegaard

Justifiable War

War, in the American society, has grown in relevance over the past decade. Having engaged in two direct combat missions, the necessity to debate over just war theory is clearly rising in prominence. Religious views and philosophical debates over the topic of war have grown in popularity and pertinence; moreover, presuppositions in one’s religious views have highly affected the debate. A Christian perception of just war has, from the beginning of America, been heating up beneath the surface of society. In the early 2000s, our culture saw, for the first time (in our generation; surely this has happened before), an American Christianity that desires to rule over and spread by means of war. However, in a biblical sense, just war is, above anything else, nonsense. Through the example of the ‘War on Terrorism’, one may see that Christian ethics are, in fact, being blurred in order to favor leaders’ agendas. However, if, in fact, Christianity is against war, how does one then deal with living in a secular nation which may favor war?

 

To one with the presupposition of Christianity, talk of ‘just’ war contradicts the very teachings of Jesus of Nazareth. The man upon which Christianity is based is, most clearly, a pacifist, or more accurately, an advocate of non-violence (I would hardly call Jesus  ‘passive’; however, for simplicity, I will refer to his view as pacifism). Jesus’ views may be made clear quite simply. In two short verses from the Bible, Jesus appears to be sympathizing with pacifism. To begin with, one may find in Matthew an explicit comment against fighting: “But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also” (Matthew 5: 39 NIV). Here Jesus tells his listeners and followers that if one is struck by an evil person, one must submit one’s self to further torment by accepting a second strike. Now, of course, this alone lends little evidence to denounce war (it says, however petty this may be, nothing about being the first to strike); however, if this verse is accepted systematically, one must reject striking in retaliation. A second verse, which expands upon the first, perhaps helps solve the issue of being the first to strike. The quote is from Matthew, as Jesus is being captured:

 

Then the men stepped forward, seized Jesus and arrested him. With that, one of Jesus’ companions reached for his sword, drew it out and struck the servant of the high priest, cutting off his ear.

“Put your sword back in its place,” Jesus said to him, “for all who draw the sword will die by the sword. Do you think I cannot call on my Father, and he will at once put at my disposal more than twelve legions of angels?” (Matthew 26: 50-54)

In this case, Jesus’ companion attempts to attack first, before Jesus is harmed. If Jesus allowed this attack, it would justify preemptive strikes and preventative war (forms of war in which one side strikes before the other is prepared to attack). However, Jesus does not allow the attack, he stops his friend before he can succeed in fighting off the enemies. Instead, he instructs his follower to stop and put the sword away, for those ‘who draw the sword will die by the sword’. What is truly interesting, though, is Jesus’ question. He appears to accept that war is justifiable, saying that his Father has the ability to send angels to fight for him. Some may take this quote as saying that Jesus is not a pacifist, however, it means the exact opposite. War, he is claiming, is only allowable if God the Father justifies it supernaturally. Jesus is limiting humans’ decisions in beginning wars or fights, claiming that this choice is God’s (and only God’s), not mankind’s. Hence, when looking at the Bible, upon which Christians depend, war is not justifiable, on the grounds that war must be treated supernaturally (which makes sense when Paul talks about spiritual warfare in Ephesians).

Oddly enough, though, in a nation with a Christian president, war was seemingly justifiable. Of course, there has been much speculation over whether Bush went to war because of ‘God’s will’, or not, but no research is conclusive. The most important fact, is that a supposed Christian leader, with the backing of a primarily Christian nation, engaged in two wars. As stated in the past paragraph, though, Christianity (as in, the Bible) is clearly against war, unless supernatural powers come into play. Now, this either means that Christian citizens and leaders are appealing to some other moral principle than Christianity, or that these leaders and citizens have an incorrect interpretation of the Bible. It is important to understand that religious belief (or non-belief) is, perhaps, one’s most fundamental moral decision-making aide; people use religion to see what is moral and what is immoral. So, this makes it all the more important to understand what one’s religion actually states about certain moral and ethical acts.

The fact is, however, that not every person in the world is a Christian (or for that matter, religious). With this fact in mind, what are simple criteria to justify a war? Traditionally, eight separate criteria are proposed to help aide leaders in examining the justness of their war. These eight criteria are as follows:

1. Just cause
2. Right intention
3. Competent authority
4. Reasonable chance for success
5. Proportionality of ends
6. Last resort
7. Proportionality of Means
8. Discrimination

If the potential act of war passes these eight criteria (interestingly enough, thought of by Thomas Aquinas, a famous catholic theologian), the war is justified. It is obvious that these criteria make it nearly impossible to have a just war. For example, what is a ‘last resort’? How does one know whether they have attempted every possible way to prevent war? Perhaps one last attempt at diplomacy would change the enemies mind? All of these questions put just one of the eight points under doubt. Hence, the extreme vagueness of these criteria leads one to doubt that a justifiable war is even possible, and even far less probable.

However, in the most pure sense, is a justifiable war possible? Or, more accurately, is justifying war something that must be done? If one must justify the war that one is participating in, is it even, then, a justifiable war? The paradox of war is that a justified war is one that needs no justification. As soon as one begins the justification of a specific war, one becomes like a child justifying why they did something wrong; or like an addict justifying why they took one more hit of their preferred substance. So, in a sense, if one begins to justify their war, the war can instantly be declared as unjust, and must be stopped immediately. So, I propose one criterion for the notion of justifiable war:

1. No need for justification.

Now, of course one may argue that war would then be taken advantage of, and rightfully so. And, since we live within a democratic context, I suppose one further criterion must be added:

1. Rightful intent

This intent does not apply simply to the leader, but to the nation. If the nation has good intent in the war and feels no need to justify itself, the war is justified

 

Women in the Church

Although it has faced multiple ethical dilemmas in the past, the Catholic Church is currently confronted with perhaps its greatest challenge thus far: overcoming the Women’s Rights movement. The movement, desiring no boundaries set by mere gender, is currently pressuring the Church to allow women the right to enter priesthood. As is well known, women are forbidden to enter into such a leadership position within the Catholic tradition. Moreover, the Catholic hierarchy shows no signs of budging, and it is doubtful that the movement will ever succeed. However, the Bible, an independent variable, which the Catholic Church is dependent on, seems to disagree with Catholicism. For although priesthood, in its very essence, is unbiblical, there also remain clear and distinct biblical examples providing reason to believe that women may be allowed in such leadership positions in the Church.

Before responding to 1 Timothy 2: 12, a common verse used to subject women, it is necessary to first examine the role of women in other areas of the Bible. A seemingly obvious place to begin is that of Jesus’ resurrection; here the role of women is exemplified. In the Gospel of John, the writer depicts two disciples, Peter and John (the ‘beloved’ disciple), arriving at the empty tomb, in which Jesus has been buried. They “saw and believed; for as yet they did not understand the scripture, that he must rise from the dead. Then the disciples returned to their homes” (New Revised Standard Version, John 20: 8-10). Now, it is important to note that the men, in verse ten, returned to their homes. They ‘saw and believed’ yet proclaimed nothing of what they had witnessed. Mary Magdalene, however, remained; she “stood weeping” (v. 11) outside of the tomb. Within the next few verses, the risen Jesus converses with Mary. Being under such stress, she does not recognize the man she is speaking to. However, after Jesus reveals himself, Mary “went and announced to the disciples, ‘I have seen the Lord’; and she told them that he had said these things to her” (John 20: 18). Notice the difference in reaction between Mary and the male disciples. She does not walk off to her house, speaking to nobody, rather, immediately she goes and announces the news to the disciples. And with this simple pronouncement, Mary becomes the first to proclaim the Gospel, post-resurrection. So, as seen, women at the birth of the Church were allowed the privilege of announcing the Gospel. After all, this is the task of Church leaders; is Jesus not clear when he says, “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations” (Matthew 28: 19)? Mary Magdalene is one of the first to participate in this command.

Following what the Gospels share about women in the early Church, there remain multiple areas in Paul’s epistles, which provide insight to their involvement in ministry. To begin with, Romans 16 displays two women in leadership positions, the first being Pheobe in verse 1. Paul writes, “I commend to you our sister Phoebe, a deacon of the church at Cenchreae” (Romans 16: 1). This verse, the most explicit example of a woman in a leadership position, is followed by a verse about a highly debated Church figure: Junia. Again as Paul writes, “Greet Andronicus and Junia, my relatives who were in prison with me; they are prominent among the apostles, and they were in Christ before I was” (Romans 16: 7). The English Standard Version (ESV) Bible translates the verse slightly differently, saying that Junia was “well known to the apostles” (English Standard Versions, Romans 16: 7). The ‘to’ within this translation promotes the idea that Junia was beneath the apostles in status, however, most other translations (NIV, King James, NLT, NASB) have only slight variations of verse 7, still containing the infamous ‘among’. Most theologians and New Testament scholars agree that Junia was a female apostle that was in prison with Paul. If this is true, it lends much evidence for the inclusion of women in the priesthood.

The final affirmative example of women being welcomed as leaders in the Church comes from 1 Corinthians. In chapter 11, Paul writes, “[A]ny woman who prays or prophesies with her head unveiled disgraces her head…” (New Revised Standard Version 1 Cor. 11: 5). Though this example seems irrelevant, it may be taken as a quite serious example of women in leadership. Although the verse sounds as if the woman is praying in private, it is clear that she is not. Why, it may be asked, would someone prophesy, or speak the words of God, in private? What is the use in that? No, if one prophesies (whether it is real or not) it is either intended for the public to hear, or it is actually spoken in public. So, though the verse provided does not deal with women in leadership positions directly, it is clear that at one time, women were allowed to lead, otherwise Paul would be speaking to nobody. As for the importance of the veil, it seems to be a necessary tool to distinguish men from women. The command is not a mere law, which must be kept, but a necessary way to allow men and women to be unique amidst diversity. In fact, Paul clarifies in verse 11, “Nevertheless, in the Lord woman is not independent of man or man independent of woman. For just as woman came from man, so man comes through woman; but all things come from God” (1 Corinthians 11: 11-12). Paul establishes a checks and balances system, women and men are not independent of each other, but equal in status under God.

Now, I can ignore it no longer; 1 Timothy 2 must be addressed as legitimate argument against women in the priesthood. 1 Timothy 2: 12 states: “I [Paul] permit no woman to teach or to have authority over a man; she is to keep silent” (1 Timothy 2: 12). The bluntness of the statement alone is shocking, on its own, not to mention its theological implications. However, many theologians disregard this verse as an illegitimate argument. Their reasoning actually begins in verse 11. Paul commands in this verse, to “let a woman learn in silence with full submission”, implying that women in the Church were being led astray by false teachings or doctrines. The verse is not saying that women must be in submission to men or husbands, but to God. Now, with this important verse taken to heart, it is necessary to read verse 12 in light of certain women living under false doctrines. The verse is not stating that no woman should teach, rather it is arguing that these women should first learn correct doctrines, and until this happens, they must be silent.

Leadership is not a thing delegated to man, but is commissioned, through various outputs in the Bible to both men and women. The Catholic Church may refuse to make any significant change to their policies regarding women as priests, however, the simple truth remains: women have the right to lead in ministry. Through the examples of Pheobe and Junia it is clear that, at least in the past, women have been in leadership positions within the Church. Mary Magdalene offered the illustration of woman’s spreading the Gospel, which as is clear, is the essential characteristic of Christian leaders. To quote Paul in Galatians, “There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus” (Galatians 3: 28). Men and women are of old doctrines, ones which do not apply to the body of Christ.

Bibliography

NRSV Harper Study Bible. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1989. Print.

Choung, James. Can a Woman Lead and Teach. 2005. Microsoft Word file.

Wright, Tom. Paul for Everyone: 1 and 2 Timothy and Titus. Louisville:

Westminister John Knox Press, 2004. Print.

The Unnecessary Argumentation Regarding Theistic Belief

From the dawn of mankind’s thinking, the question of God’s existence has been present. Questions such as: “Is there a god or gods?” and “How must one go about demonstrating such a being’s existence?” have been within thinkers’ minds for an immeasurable amount of time. However, in this generation, the god-question is hitting a forte, perhaps even a fortissimo. The world is becoming more and more divided not only over god’s existence, but also over the implications of certain religious views. This growing interest is due partly to the fact that during the better part of the 20th century, atheistic philosophy dominated the stage, and also that Christian philosophy has recently experienced a revival.

Top philosophy professors, at top universities, are openly admitting their belief in Christianity; and with this revival have come an increased intensity and passion for one’s beliefs. This may be seen, not only in the academic fields, but also in respect to the general public. For example, evangelical Christians in America are growing to a new level of absurdity and loudness. Likewise, advocates of atheism, such as Richard Dawkins and other “New Atheists,” have reached new ‘intellectual’ heights with what appear to be ludicrous arguments. Documentaries such as Religulous and Expelled easily epitomize the un-intellectual arguments for both Atheists (or agnostics in Religulous’ case) and Theists. It is a curious occurrence, it seems that both sides are able to see the illogical statements in their rivals, but remain utterly blind to the fallacies lying hidden in their own arguments. This may put certain attributes of human nature on display, but here is not the place to delve into such examinations.

Essentially, the point is that tension is mounting, and one day the floodgates will break. The tension, however, makes sense. The worldviews are contradictory to one another; it is not possible to integrate these positions into one, conceivable viewpoint or philosophy. An Atheist is not able to also be a Christian, and vice-versa; it simply is not logically possible.

But it is one thing to say that the tension makes sense, and quite another to say the tension is necessary. Largely, this hostility is unnecessary and harmful to society. To be truthful, it seems that arguments concerning theistic belief are, for the most part, unconvincing. We may see this anti-apologeticism exemplified through the philosophy of Søren Kierkegaard, the father of Christian Existentialism. A close examination of a passage from Kierkegaard’s Philosophical Fragments will put on display the unnecessary argumentation of God’s existence.

Philosophical Fragments: The Absolute Paradox

In the second chapter of Kierkegaard’s work, Kierkegaard presents the ‘absolute paradox’; the paradox being man’s knowledge of God and how he has obtained this knowledge. The first idea worth noting is Kierkegaard’s notion that as soon as one begins to demonstrate a god’s (non)-existence, one has already presupposed his (non)-existence (I will refer to the ‘god’ as a male, for simplicity). As stated by Kierkegaard:

If, namely, the god does not exist, then of course it is impossible to demonstrate it. But if he does exist, then it is foolishness to want to demonstrate it, since I, in the very moment the demonstration commences, would presuppose it not as doubtful – which a presupposition cannot be, inasmuch as it is a presupposition – but as decided, because otherwise I would not begin, easily perceiving that the whole thing would be impossible if he did not exist (39).

If a person desires to ‘prove’ god’s existence, his existence is presupposed before the inquiry begins, likewise with his non-existence. The presupposition implies his existence before the demonstration (if that is what it would even be called) begins and nothing is provided for the doubter. How can this be of any help to the skeptical? “Wait a minute! I will prove to you my God exists!” It is supposing God exists before the proof begins; for there can be no doubt in a presupposition, it is against the nature of a presupposition. If one doubts a presupposition, then it is no longer a presupposition; rather, it is a conclusion with which one must attempt to provide at least some, hopefully strong, justification. And if the presupposition is what you are trying to prove then the demonstration to prove this being’s existence will be of no importance. If one must justify one’s presupposition, then one’s presupposition has no power or legitimacy and one is left as a doubter. Yet, as Kierkegaard says, if one is a skeptic, one is also presupposing god’s non-existence in one’s inquiry. In the end, a presupposition appears to be logically necessary for a ‘demonstration’ of god’s existence. As one has seen, if one ‘demonstrates’ a being’s existence with a presupposition of the beings existence, there will be no power in the ‘demonstration’.

Kierkegaard, following a brief analysis of the citation above, then summarizes his view into one sentence, “I never reason in conclusion to existence, but I reason in conclusion from existence” (40). In an attempt to justify this claim, Kierkegaard provides multiple examples. First, he takes a rock and claims one does not reason to the conclusion that such a thing as a rock exists; rather, one takes a rock and reasons to the conclusion that such a thing that exists is a rock. Secondly, he supposes there is a court and argues, “The court of law does not demonstrate that a criminal exists but that the accused, who does indeed exist, is a criminal” (40). Existence is a presupposition, not something which comes from a demonstration.

However, suppose for a moment that the demonstration of the apologist has emerged successful. The notion of God’s existence has come forth through some logically solid argument with no presuppositions of God’s existence. How, after performing this task, does the being, God, emerge in his existence? Kierkegaard answers:

[W]ith the demonstration – so long as I am holding on to the demonstration (that is, continue to be one who is demonstrating), the existence does not emerge, if for no other reason than that I am in the process of demonstrating it, but when I let go of the demonstration, the existence is there (42-43).

God’s being, his tangible being, can only manifest when the demonstration is let go. It must not be held onto. The existence the apologist is arguing is nothing more than conceptual; a thought experiment, if you will. A concept cannot and will not change lives, help people or do any lasting good; for it is nothing more than a concept or thought, it is not an existence.

And so, we stumble upon Kierkegaard’s view of the paradox. As Kierkegaard writes:

The paradoxical passion of the understanding is, then, continually colliding with this unknown, which certainly does exist but is also unknown and to that extent does not exist…. What then is the unknown? It is the frontier that is continually arrived at… it is the different, the absolutely different (44).

God, the unknown, seems to be the frontier. But he is the absolutely different; humans have no ability to relate to this being. How can an effect have knowledge of the cause? Is not the cause a separate event or, in this case, a separate entity all together? We can never know, on our own, the nature of the different. It is the different! Yet we arrive at the ‘frontier’. What do we make of it?

Many have made attempts to know the God by means of their intellect or feelings. Kierkegaard responds:

[T]he difference has so confused the understanding that it does not know itself and quite consistently confuses itself with the difference…. There exists, then, a certain person who looks just like another human being, grows up as do other human beings, marries, has a job, takes tomorrow’s livelihood into account as a man should (45).

Creating God in man’s image is a shockingly common occurrence (and mistake). At the point of recognition, as pertaining to the absolute difference of the unknown and man, one will realize that it is clear God is not like man. However, when faced with the frontier of unknowingness, the frontiersman will stop at nothing. That being which man knows, the explorer paints a picture of a glorified human being; one that is tangible and strikingly familiar; one that is a mirror image of beings in this world. For example, Homer wrote stories of gods that committed adultery with humans, struck people down for the slightest of sins, and much more. Paintings in cathedrals depict God the Father as an angry man with a white beard, an unhappy fellow who would like to beat us to a pulp. All of these stories and paintings point toward one thing: a projection of the self onto the unknown. Why would a person want to grapple with an intangible entity if he may simply make the impalpable himself?

Having reached this point, one is left as a deist. One is not able to understand the different, and, so, one is left alone at the edge of an abyss. It is common knowledge, though, that Kierkegaard was a devout Christian. He begins to explain his position:

The understanding cannot come to know this by itself… if it is going to come to know this, it must come to know this from the god, and if it does come to know this, it cannot understand this and consequently cannot come to know this, for how could it understand the absolutely different?… At this point we seem to stand at a paradox. Just to come to know that the god is different, man needs the god and then comes to know that the god is absolutely different from him (46).

It is the god’s initiative that will aid one to the knowledge of his being different. What a paradoxical situation! If we are the absolutely different, this means that God is the absolutely different, as well. But what makes it that one cannot understand the god, yet the god can approach us? Is he not as different from humans as humans are to him? Also, how is it that we understand the absolutely different? Whether told by the different, or not, it remains the unknowable, and we are left in a paradoxical situation. However, as Kierkegaard writes, “The thinker without the paradox is like the lover without passion: a mediocre fellow” (35). It is paradox that inspires thought.

Conclusion

Many thoughts have been noted, and for a full inquiry much more space would be necessary. However, this brief treatment of Kierkegaard has led to several conclusions. First, it has been shown that arguing God’s existence is, in the end, illogical and unnecessary. There appears to be a presupposition, which may not be pushed away from a thinker’s mind. One either begins one’s thought with the notion of God’s existence, or the notion of his non-existence; it is a ‘given’ in one’s intellect. Next, it was noted how it is that the god’s existence emerges from a demonstration. It is only once the demonstration is let go that God’s existence becomes apparent (this is all understood on the assumption that a thinker has accomplished the impossible task of an argument with no presuppositions). In other words, it is not the demonstration that brings about his immediate existence, but the leap, following the completion of the argument. And lastly, it was shown that the understanding of God’s nature is, ultimately, a paradox. This knowledge is obtained when and if the unknown entity provides the knowledge. Of course this is paradoxical, but paradox brings passion to the thinker’s mind. The question of God’s existence has, then, reached a critical stage in the world; the arguments are unnecessary and may become dangerous to society. May people see that the tension can be released in an instant. And with this letting go of anger, two social groups may be brought together, the religious and the irreligious.

Work Cited

Kierkegaard, Søren. Philosophical Fragments/Johannes Climacus. Princeton:

Princeton, 1985. Print. Edited and Translated By: Hong, Howard & Hong,

Edna