A Thinking Reed

"Man is but a reed, the most feeble thing in nature, but he is a thinking reed" – Blaise Pascal

Theocons or liberals?

I’m reminded by this post from prolific Orthodox blogger Daniel Larison that there are those who not only don’t regard the First Things crowd as theocrats, but who actually regard them as fatally compromised and sold out to secular Enlightenment liberalism. In addition to traditionalists like Mr. Larison there are folks like Stanley Hauerwas who resent what they characterize as the liberal-democratic “policing” of distinctive Christian language and practice which they contend is the result of the paradigm pushed by people like Richard John Neuhaus.

That paradigm, as I understand it, is an attempt to “revitalize” the ideas of a liberal political order by basing them on a vision of human nature that is both more secure and truer than the various utilitarian and rights-based approaches inherited from secular liberal theorists. The latter secular liberalism, lacking a distinctive vision of human good and flourishing and based on individual autonomy, has resulted in what Neuhaus and others consider to be an ultra-individualistic and ultimately nihilistic political stance that permits things like abortion-on-demand, same-sex marriage, and euthanasia.

As Neuhaus says:

In the 1960s I was very much a man of the left. Not the left of countercultural drug-tripping and generalized hedonism, but the left exemplified by, for instance, the civil rights movement under the leadership of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. In the latter half of the 1960s this began to change with the advent of the debate over what was then called “liberalized” abortion law. By 1967 I was writing about the “two liberalisms”—one, like that earlier civil rights movement, inclusive of the vulnerable and driven by a transcendent order of justice, the other exclusive and recognizing no law higher than individual willfulness. My argument was that, by embracing the cause of abortion, liberals were abandoning the first liberalism that has sustained all that is hopeful in the American experiment.

That is my argument still today. It is, I believe, crucially important that that argument prevail in the years ahead. There is no going back to reconstitute the American order on a foundation other than the liberal tradition. A great chasm has opened between the liberal tradition and what today is called liberalism. That is why some of us are called conservatives. Conservatism that is authentically and constructively American conservatism is conservatism in the cause of reappropriating and revitalizing the liberal tradition.

Some traditionalists and (for lack of a better word) communitarians may agree that America was founded as a liberal order, and that many contemporary “conservatives” are actually a species of liberal. But what they won’t agree to is that this is a good thing or something that Christians should reconcile themselves to. Hauerwas would say that Christians’ primary political commitments should be found in the church – the community constituted by distinctive political practices. And he would add that when Christians seek a “seat at the table” or a “place in the public square” they almost inevitably end up compromising their message and re-interpreting or translating it to make is understandable to a secular order, effectively neutering it in the process.

For my money, I don’t find either Neuhaus’ Thomistic liberalism or Hauerwas’ ecclessiocentric communitarianism fully persuasive (though I think there’s value in both). In my view, the transcendent order of justice Neuhaus appeals to is perceived only incompletely and “through a glass darkly” by any of us in this fallen world, and to attempt to make that perception the basis of a polity is to invite tyranny and coercion. It doesn’t take seriously enough the fact that people can hold, and be justified in holding, quite divergent views about the existence, nature, and character of the transcendent order. This kind of “epistemic humility” ought to make us wary of basing too much in the way of political coercion on our perceptions of it.

Interestingly, I think Hauerwas and some other aligned movements (e.g. Radical Orthodoxy) may make a similar mistake. They claim a high degree of certitude for Christian conviction and action, though they base Christian practice primarily in the church. But by so sharply emphasizing Christian distinctiveness and its irreconcilability with any “secular” (or non-Christian?) outlook, they don’t seem to take seriously the potential for common ground with those who don’t share one’s own convictions as well as for encounters with those others to challenge and even change one’s convictions.

Following Christopher Insole, I think a broadly liberal political outlook is the natural complement to the kind of epistemic humility I’ve been describing. Since none of us can claim to discern the contours of the transcendent with perfect clarity, we need to be humble about subjecting others to our certainties. This results, in Insole’s words, in a “politics […] ordered towards peaceful co-existence (the absence of conflict), and the preservation of the liberties of the individual within a pluralistic and tolerant framework, rather than by a search for truth (religious or otherwise), perfection and unity.”

17 responses to “Theocons or liberals?”

  1. My difference would be I think any debating of the “regime question” is meaningless and arrogant. Is the US Constitution (as amended by the Civil War and the New Deal) better than absolute monarchy? Or democratic centralism with a single party? The answer to that question is something like string theory: meaningless speculation. BUT this particular constitutional regime, this kokutai (to use a nice Japanese term), we have is the one God gave us, and coveting some other, better one, is like coveting someone else’s house, wife, man- or maidservant, ox or ass. It’s a sin.

  2. Hauerwas does not deny common ground with non-Christians; he just says you can’t assume it as a given. He says you have to take it on a case by case basis. Hauerwas has said so many times, “I do not advocate Christians withdrawing from the world; I want them to be in the world, I just want them to be there as Christians.” How do we negotiate when to co-operate with non-Christians and when not to? The same way porcupines make love: very carefully. Hauerwas recently signed the religious coalition against torture ad in the New York Times, even though he has significant theological disagreement with other signers of the statement. But he found some common ground, and so added his name to something he thought was good.

  3. CPA – good point. These kinds of debates can devolve into pointless speculation. The US is, for better or worse, goiong to continue as a liberal-democratic regime of sorts for the forseeable future. Also, it’s worth considering that anything that would replace a liberal regime is as likely as not to be far worse.

    Jonathan – You’re right and I wasn’t being completely fair to Hauerwas there. What I worry about though is his tendency to understand Christian language and practice as a kind of autonomous cultural-lingustic system (Lindbeck’s influence? Wittgenstein?) that is somehow incommensurable with non-Christian perspectives (or “untranslatable”). My concern is that this can lead to a defensiveness and/or triumphalism with respect to non-Christian perspectives (I think you see shades of this in Radical Orthodoxy, though there are imp. differences between Hauerwas and RO of course).

  4. Let me put my worry another way: is Hauerwas (and, by extension, Milbank, et al) open to the possibility that knowledge which comes from sources outside the church/Christian revelation could require a revision of Christian teaching and practice? That’s not just a rhetorical question; I’m not sure based on my reading of him what he would say about that.

  5. Hauerwas did say in The Peaceable Kingdom that the Kingdom of God is wider than the church, and therefore that Christians could learn from non-Christians. For example, he says Christians could learn from Buddhists that the attempt to justify violence is finally self-contradictory.

    You say you are concerned that Hauerwas understands Christian language and practice as an autonomous cultural linguistic system. You are right that Hauerwas is definitely in the camp with Lindbeck and the cultural-linguistic folks. But are you suggesting that there is a wider realm outside the Lordship of Christ to which Christian ethics can or should be translated? I think Hauerwas would deny that such a realm exists. As Lesslie Newbigin once said, “the resurrection of Christ does not fit into any other world view, except the one of which it is the cornerstone.” Or, as Jennifer recently reminded us as she was spiraling out of the blogosphere, for Barth, the only universality is the particularity of Jesus. Perhaps some see this as triumphalism, but that may be because we have forgotten that the resurrection only happened after the crucifixion.

  6. Christ is Lord of all, but that doesn’t mean Christians have been given the answers to all ethical problems. All ethics depends in part upon information about the world, human nature, etc. And some of our knowledge about those subjects comes from extra-Christian sources and has changed over the centuries. It seems to me that Christians have to be willing to creatively re-think some of their (our) stances in light of new information, better understanding of the human and natural world, social realities, etc. That seems to have happened in the case of, say, birth control (though our Roman Catholic brothers and sisters would say we’ve gone off the rails there). Of course, all this needs to be illuminated by the light given to us, and we should be cautious and test new knowledge, but we can’t assume that we’ve already got all the answers.

  7. I see what you mean, and I agree. I think Hauerwas would, too, (if I read him correctly.) There is nothing to be learnd from any the sciences that would call into question the Lordship of Christ, so we are free to explore, learn, and incorporate these new discoveries into our understanding of God’s world. No problem with that.

    The problem would of course be when someone like John Shelby Spong says, “well, modern science teaches us that dead people don’t rise from the dead, so Easter is just a myth.” I know you’re not thinking about Spong when you’re making your point. You must be thinking about someone vastly more intelligent. Who (or what) might it be?

    This sounds sort of like a dialogue I had with Marvin one time on the Ivy Bush.

  8. D’oh. I guess birth control would be one example of what you were thinking of. Silly me.

  9. Yeah, Spong is certainly not my model here (I remember doing a review of his Why Christianity Must Change or Die for my undergrad philosophy journal and was astonished at the poor reasoning, strawman and ad hominem attacks that made up the book). Someone like Keith Ward, who’s new book I did a series on recently, is not a bad example. Though I would take issue with some of his conclusions, he’s not a debunker like Spong – he believes in a real resurrection, incarnation and so on.

    An example of a case not directly connected with ethics would be the traditional Christian teaching that death entered the world with sin. Evolutionary biology tells us that there was death in the world long before humans came on the scene, much less sinned. So, either we reject the traditional account, or we reject the evolutionary account, or we re-interpret one or both of them. A lot of Christians are probably living with a greater or lesser degree of cognitive dissonance here beacause they’re not sure how the two accounts are supposed to relate to one another. That’s where I’d like to see some explanation from theologians about how they see the relation between theological and secular scientific accounts of the world. Are they compatible? Competing? Speaking two different unrelated languages? Does one absorb the other? Etc.

  10. In light of your blogging lameness meditation, this is a long post that generated a coherent line of commentary. It would be nice to have posts like this where thought can ripen and the conversation is allowed to reach a satisfactory denouement before everybody goes away. But there seems to be a speed intrinsic to blogworld that’s hard to slow down — another manifestation of Paul Virilio’s discourse on “dromology” (the science/logic of speed).

  11. While I’m here I’ll comment on the issue of death entering the world through sin (Romans 5:12). In the Garden God tells Adam not to eat of the tree, “for in the day that you eat from it you shall surely die.” The serpent tells Eve, “You surely shall not die!” Adam and Eve eat and they are expelled from the Garden, where they live for quite a long time. Was the serpent right? Was God lying? Or was the death of Adam something other than physical death?

    For what it’s worth, I think this is a place where hermeneutics needs to reconcile itself with science. I’ve wondered where this strong “death through sin” reading came from — it certainly wasn’t so clear-cut when I was in seminary (resolutely evangelical) 25 years ago. Is this an N.T. Wright influence?

  12. Hauerwas and some other aligned movements (e.g. Radical Orthodoxy) may make a similar mistake. They claim a high degree of certitude for Christian conviction and action, though they base Christian practice primarily in the church. But by so sharply emphasizing Christian distinctiveness and its irreconcilability with any “secular” (or non-Christian?) outlook, they don’t seem to take seriously the potential for common ground with those who don’t share one’s own convictions as well as for encounters with those others to challenge and even change one’s convictions.

    Hmmm, well, after spending 4 days at a conference with some of the “usual suspects” of Radical Orthodoxy, I would definitely say that there could be nothing further than the truth. The entire conference was geared around inviting people from all different persuasions. For instance: Roman Catholic, Anglican, Protestant, Eastern Orthodox (although David Bentley Hart couldn’t make it because of a family illness); continental philosophy, analytic; Christians, nihilists; etc. There were evolutionary biologists there, and some of the best papers at the conference were about “trying my very best to believe Darwin,” for instance.

    Hence, this is why I highlighted the word “seem” above. The conclusion just doesn’t follow. On the one hand, yes — there is no ‘neutral’ common ground (of course), but the space provided by those at the conference (Milbank, Cunningham, Ward, Kilby, Goodchild, Blond, Blanchette, Burrell, Dupre, S. Conway Moris, et. al…) provided all sorts of stimulating conversations to allow for disagreements, agreements, and convictions to change. I even witnessed a few presenters admit that they had to change parts of their paper due to what they had heard in papers or discussions from previous days in the conference.

    I hate to kinda always be the one to come to the defence of the Radical Orthodoxy folk, but if nothing else, what I witnessed and participated in last week shows this to be a rather fallacious (and sweeping) claim about a whole group of people.

    Heck, within the RO series itself is a direct critique of Milbank and Pickstock by Jamie Smith (not to mention the Radical Orthodoxy and the Reformed Tradition conference which turned into a book which also provided dialogue for ample critiques of Milbank [just see the chapter on Scotus, or Plato, for starters]).

    Furthermore, not too long ago I posted a link to an upcoming conference that reflects on “Radical Orthodoxy: 8 Years On” which involves a response by Prof. Douglas Hedley who co-edited Deconstructing Radical Orthodoxy.

    I also got to be a fly on a wall in conversations between former students of Milbank who talked about how he had worked out certain issues in the past and been challenged by students, colleagues, and others in response to his views and had to change his mind.

    They don’t take seriously conversation and the ability to be challenged? Again, nothing could be further than the truth. One also does not have to assert “common ground” between others in order to invite dialogue, conversation, and agreements. I could really be as simple and archaic as love, in my opinion.

    After hanging out with these folk (not a homogeneous mix by any means), I just can’t help but try to urge you to change your own convictions about them! 🙂

    Peace,

    Eric

  13. Eric – First of all, great to “see” you again. Secondly, that sounds like a great conference to have been at.

    I do sort of feel like this is beating a dead horse, but here goes. What I mean by not “tak[ing] seriously the potential for common ground with those who don’t share one’s own convictions as well as for encounters with those others to challenge and even change one’s convictions” is not intended as a personal claim about anyone’s willingness to entertain new ideas, but rather what strikes me as a consequence of a certain epistemological position. If Christian language has its own canons of coherence, truth, etc. how can those be challenged from an outside perspective? What’s always bugged me about Hauerwas, for instance – though I agree with much of what he says – is this kind of slipperyness about truth claims. This is more a request for clarification than a critique I guess, but I worry about it falling into this kind of postmodern swamp where every perspective is as well-grounded as any other and so each is immune to external criticism. Further elucidation on this point would be welcome.

    Secondly, it sounds like there are some good things going on on the RO front, so I’m hopeful we’ll see some interesting stuff published in the future. (Though as a layman I have only limited time to keep up with these things.) But, here’s what I’d like to see: a “Radical Orthodox” take on Vedanta Hinduism, or evolutionary naturalism or what have you – in other words, something “radically” outside of Christiainity. What do ROers see as the realationship between the language and truth-claims of Christianity and those other perspectives? Are they attempts to describe the same reality? And, if so, doesn’t that imply some criteria for adjudicating among perspectives?

  14. p.s. Were there really nihilists at this conference? Hard not to think of the Big Lebowski…

  15. Lee,

    Oh, I see what’s going on (I think). I think you’re conflating the the epistemological stance of Hauerwas, drawn from Lindbeck (and thus Wittgenstein) in regards to notions of categorical truth contra truth-by-correspondence (as Lindbeck puts it in Nature of Doctrine) with that of Milbank/RO. In fact, Milbank can’t stand this epistemological position of the cultural-linguistic ‘language game’, because as merely a ‘rule’, it has a hard time giving import to any ontology.

    I posted something –a year and a day ago, in fact!– on Milbank’s concept of this ontology which appeared in Graham Ward’s The Postmodern God collection of essays, which reads:

    “15 One way to try to secure peace is to draw boundaries around “the same,” and exclude “the other”; to promote some practices and disallow alternatives. Most polities, and most religions, characteristically do this. But the Church has misunderstood itself when it does likewise. For the point of the supersession of the law is that nothing really positive is excluded — no difference whatsoever — but only the negative, that which denies and takes away form Being: in other words, the violent. It is true, however, that Christians perceive a violence that might not normally be recognized, namely any stundting of a person’s capacity to love and conceive of the divine beauty; this inhibition is seen as having its soul in arbitrariness. But there is no real exclusion here; Chrisitanity should not draw boundaries, and the Church is that paradox: a nomad city.”

    This seems to me radically different than the Lindbeckian/Wittgensteinian cultural-linguistic turn. My guess is that in simpler language, Milbank might say that “Christianity should not draw boundaries” because God is in fact reconciling all of creation unto God’s self, as it is already moving in, through, and to God (Acts 17:28).

    But, here’s what I’d like to see: a “Radical Orthodox” take on Vedanta Hinduism, or evolutionary naturalism or what have you – in other words, something “radically” outside of Christiainity. What do ROers see as the realationship between the language and truth-claims of Christianity and those other perspectives?

    It doesn’t have the Routledge ‘RO’ seal per se (because the Radical Orthodoxy book series is over), but the upcoming Interventions series contains both a book on Evolution by Conor Cunningham as well as Naturalism by Charles Taliafero, and would probably be alone the same lines as if something on that topic appeared in the RO series (Conor’s essay on “Trying [His] Very Best to Believe Darwin” at the conference was great, btw).

    I still think the way your question is phrased (e.g. “something ‘radically’ outside of Christiainity”) misses the mark of what they’re trying to get across. I could be a bit off here (but probably not by much), but my educated guess is that for Milbank, nothing really is “radically outside Christianity” in the sense that you’re talking about. Things may be ‘outside’ the Church to a degree, but it is only in and through the Church that one would know reality as it is.

    So, as an experiment, I’ll try to briefly sum up Conor’s presentation on Darwin vis-a-vis this conversation: Conor is “trying his very best to believe Darwin” in light of all of his followers who have taken his original ideas and taken them to extremes. Now, Darwin might at first glance be considered ‘radically outside’ the Church/Christianity, but is that really the case? Here on your own blog you’ve talked at various times about Christianity and evolution and how they’re perfectly compatible, or at least can be held to be rationally and faithfully compatible in the heart and mind of a Christian. Likewise, Conor thinks that Darwin’s initial observations are perfectly fine things to believe as a Christian, but that some of the extreme forms of naturalism that tells us that intential life and even things like love are mere ‘epiphenomena’ (Francis Crick, et. al.) are unacceptable to the Christian. So even for Conor, there is by no means a rejection of evolutionary biology (or for Simon Conway Morris who also had an excellent presentation on evolutionary convergence), but a rejection of this description of life turning into an ontological, acidic prescription for all of reality.

    Maybe another way to put it is, how can even the worst sinner be ‘radically outside’ of Christianity? To echo above, isn’t God always already reconciling creation to God’s self, including that sinner (myself)?

    Not sure if this help clarifies for Hauerwas, but hopefully I helped clarify for Milbank…?

    On the one hand, I like the Hauerwasian (from Lindbeck and MacIntyre) notion of the Church as polis with its own set of practices and whatnot, but on the other, I also like Milbank’s fuller sense of ontology. I’m not entirely sure how one might reconcile the two, but hey, I’m still learning.

    Haha… about the ‘nihilists’, no, Flea didn’t exactly show up in black costume, and –and!– I did at one point quote that “I could get a f**king toe –with nail polish!– by 2!!!”, but no, there weren’t any nihilists of this type at the conference. Just ones who are pretty well read in various phenomenologies and whatnot and want to have St. John of the Cross’ “dark night of the soul” (I think that was him) without an actual conversion and repentence. I actually feel rather bad about the guy I’m thinking of, but it was good to hang out with him, and even sing some Nirvana songs with him over beer and wine.

    Peace,

    Eric

  16. Eric – Very helpful, thanks. Perhaps I misunderstood Milbank by not reading enough (or closely enough), but I always took him to be saying that the praxis of the Church somehow “evacuates” metaphysics and thus only the Christian narrative tells us truth about the world. This goes hand-in-hand (I thought) with this sort of post-Heideggerian rejection of Western metaphysics and modernity (which, suffice to say, I find extremely problematic) and its replacement by theology. I may check out Jamie Smith’s Introducing Radical Orthodoxy to get a better perspective on all this. But, yeah, the question of boundries might provide a helpful approach.

    Also, I think I agree with everything you say about Cunningham’s presentation of Christianity vis a vis evolutionary theory. Evolutionary theory frequently gets blown up into an all-encompassing world view, and certainly no Christian can accept that.

  17. Ah. Yeah, Milbank definitely wants to talk about metaphysics. That was one of the core themes of the ‘Belief and Metaphysics’ conference, which is very much inspired by his love for de Lubac (he admitted as much during one of the Q&A sessions): a theology always undergirded (but not founded upon) by good metaphysics on the one hand, and always a metaphysics that is always [‘lifted up’ into the] transcendent on the other; in effect, both accounts remain suspended and never ‘grounded,’ very much like the notion of a paradox itself.

    Peace,

    Eric

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