My understanding of Thomas Kuhn’s The Structure of Scientific Revolutions has always been that “knowledge” -- in his case scientific knowledge – constitutes more of a horseshoe that we tend to treat as a fully closed circle.
In the space between the two extremes of the horseshoe, there are always “counterfactuals” that our theory can’t quite explain. Ultimately, when the number of counterfactuals grows to the point that the theory’s explanatory power falls below the level of effort it takes to sustain the theory itself, it is exchanged for another theory, and thus we get a scientific revolution. Ultimately, however, this too will be a horseshoe that we treat as a circle. And thus the cycle continues.
There is an extent to which faith -- and even more so theology -- in revealed religion is also a horseshoe. For a transcendent God communicates in the form of language that is informed by mental associations derived from our created experience. This invariably produces a certain “gap” between our created mental associations and the transcendent reality of God. This is where much of my life of faith is lived. And there is much questioning that goes on here.
But this is not a confrontational questioning; nor is it a questioning that aspires to neat, rationalized answers. It is a quest, rather, for confirmation and greater confidence in things un-proveable, which the modern, Enlightenment cult of genius mistakenly equates with things unknowable, or worse yet, things unreal.
A person may not be able to PROVE that his or her spouse loves them; but they can certainly KNOW that s/he does. Moreover, hearing the words, “I love you,” twenty years from now is likely to have a depth and “meaning” far beyond what is there today. In short, the gap between what I can know and what I can prove about God can never be completely filled by reason. This is, rather, where religious devotion, mystery, ineffabilty and the transformative power of private experience all do their thing.
There is, however, another kind of questioning, one that is often confrontational and one in which reason – or reasoned approaches to scripture -- is the only currency of exchange. This is the questioning of theology and the religious doctrines that bind me to the Muslim community in the public space, where we seek to negotiate collectively the meanings of revelation and our common religious heritage.
Given what I said above about faith, it goes without saying that theology can never aspire to being anything more than a horseshoe. But this is precisely the reality that theology can least afford to admit. For one cannot settle public disputes over the meaning of revelation by admitting that one does not have all the answers. This is where much of the modern opposition to “organized religion” comes in; and this is the source of much of the conflict between the “religious individual” and the “religious community.”
For my part, I accept the challenge, even as I aspire to the benefits, of negotiating between the limitlessness of my private knowledge and the limitations of what I can prove to my co-religionists in public space. For this is ultimately the price of sustaining, enjoying and participating in religious community. And while religious community may be ultimately secondary to religious faith, it is a secondary value that I cherish and am unwilling to relinquish.
And God knows best.
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