Peter Winch (2001) has asked us to compare our puzzlement about God's place beyond
the world with a comparable puzzlement one may have about the claim, in geometry, that
parallel lines meet at infinity. If we leave out the geometry and think of “meeting” in
terms of the lines converging, we will conclude that, in fact, the parallel lines do not
meet, and that infinity is no place at all. We may be tempted to reject the claim that
parallel lines meet at infinity as nonsense. Yet, the notion does have an application. To
appreciate it, however, we must look to geometry to see what it comes to; we must look
to the proofs and demonstrations it enters into and makes possible.
Similarly, when we hear that God is other than the world, we may wonder where that can
be. Leaving religion out of consideration, we may think the belief entails locating God in
a quasi-empirical place outside all things, as though the world were itself a thing, or
bounded place, one can get outside of, or that the belief leads one to think of a pure
consciousness that, somehow, is the source of all things. Such thoughts may lead one to
conclude that the belief in a God who is other than the world is senseless. Nevertheless,
the belief has application, but one must look to religion to appreciate it. This can be done
in more ways than one. I want to do so by considering a religious reaction to that very
aspect of Wittgenstein's thought that is said to be the main obstacle to the intelligibility of
belief in a God who is other than the world.
As we have seen, Wittgenstein argues against any notion of a transcendent, metaphysical
order that determines the form our language games take. On the contrary, he says that the
language games are “the given” which we must accept—they are there, like our lives
(Wittgenstein 1953, 226; 1969, par. 559). We know by a favor of nature (Wittgenstein
1969, par. 505). It is a confusion to try to get behind the language games to some
underlying form.
On the other hand, although we cannot get behind “the given,” people react to it in
different ways. Among them are religious reactions. Believers not only know (like
everyone else) by a favor or grace of nature (a remark in logic), but also see nature as a
gift of grace (a spiritual reaction) and feel grateful for it. This is the radical sense of being
a creature, one who has nothing by right but is a recipient of grace.
The sense of creaturehood I am referring to is closely related to the sense of life as a
mystery. They are not identical, since this sense of mystery may not lead to a sense of
grace. Nevertheless, the big divide in contemporary philosophy of religion is not between
religious and secular reactions to mystery, but between those who recognize mystery on
the one hand, and those who seek religious or secular explanations of life's contingencies
on the other (Phillips 1993a).
The mystery I refer to is connected with our being creatures in space and time. There are
radical contingencies in human life. Relationships one trusted break down, things get
worse just when one thought the worst was over, lives end when there was so much to
live for, even modest hopes are dashed because of malice, weakness, or accident. These
things seem to happen without rhyme or reason. They can lead to a sense of
bewilderment at life, or to a view that we are victims of a cruel or mindless caprice. But it
can also lead to the view that we are in the hands of God, creatures in need of grace. Both
reactions, however, recognize mystery, that the limits of human life are beyond our
understanding. I am exploring the religious reaction to mystery.
At this point, many philosophers will say that I have not yet earned the reference I have
made to God. I have talked of human beings who see themselves as recipients of grace,
nextflipdebug5
(nextflipdebug5)
#1