Wednesday, June 8, 2011

Shaping Our Desires to Truth

I am a bit behind on my commitment. If anyone was expecting an earlier post, I apologize. I know this habit will be good for me, but I am still forming the habit and thus ask for grace.

This afternoon I read Os Guinness' essay titled "Time for Truth" (taken from IVP's "A Place for Truth"). While many of the arguments for the necessity of truth were striking, the one that hit me hardest was the example of Pablo Picasso. You see, my wife and I had only just recently watched the movie "The Mystery of Picasso," in which the artist paints on film for all of time to record, but then destroys the paintings after the filming has been completed. I didn't understand this move at first. Why would someone destroy their art? Why would someone want to simply showcase their process on film, but then get rid of the results? It struck me at the time as possibly narcissistic - action driven by the ego of the artist.

But then Guinness used Picasso as an example of the ability of someone to manipulate others in the absence of truth. Apparently Picasso's friend Alberto Giacometti called him "a monster" because of the way he devoured people, especially women. Picasso called himself "the Minotaur," in reference to the mythological beast who devoured young maidens. When Picasso died, three of those close to him committed suicide, unable to live without this dominating personality (Guinness, 47). Suddenly, the "generosity" of the artist in showcasing his process on film takes on a different light. Perhaps the artist and his ego is simply seeking to manipulate the audience - to take them on a journey and then hurt them with the knowledge that what he created, he can also destroy. Now his generosity appears selfish and self-serving in the end.

Now I do not know Picasso's motives in filming "The Mystery of Picasso." No one does. But how could such a brilliant artist lead such a destructive life? How could so much evil coincide with so much intelligence and beauty? I write about this mostly because it troubles me so, but also because such men are exalted in academia for their talents, and yet their character is dismissed as inconsequential. If we asked the people who were affected by Picasso's behavior, however, they would not treat his character defects so lightly. Which legacy really matters - the one of the artist, who's paintings are priced so exorbitantly high - or the man, who treated women as objects to be used for his own personal gratification? We are so willing to overlook character in the midst of great accomplishments, but to what end? As Guinness puts it, it is only in the face of real evil, or real need, that we recognize the "signals of transcendence" pointing us to the higher ground of truth (51-52).

For now, I am challenged to find new words for what I believe and why I believe it. I have fallen into line with so many others in proclaiming the benefits of Christianity to the world - based on my personal experience (subjectivism), or that it works for me (pragmatism). Yet Guinness points out that Christianity is not "true because it works, it works because it's true." The fear of claiming the truth is being revealed to me by these statements. Will I stand by Jesus as the source of truth? Will I direct seekers of truth to find their answers in Him alone? The more I am influenced by the University, the more I find myself noncommittal. Sure it's fine for me, but others? I need a greater love for the truth, and a greater love for others to share that truth with them as the truth. And to remember that it doesn't stop the conversation, but really gets it going.

Friday, May 27, 2011

In Pursuit of Truth

Today I commit to writing here once each week, as a means of holding myself accountability to my own development as a Christian intellectual. Now the problem is that I don't see myself as an intellectual at all, and yet I find the Lord leading me into a ministry among intellectuals. This is going to be interesting. But here I will reflect on some reading (which I also hope to do weekly) and try to do some thinking for myself, and engage anyone who cares to spend their valuable time considering my words at all.

I promise to no longer be reserved in my writing. Too often I am guarded to the point of being unwilling to write anything for fear of its permanence. I recognize that this blog is part of a process of my own development, so I invite you to develop here with me.

Today I reflect on Richard Neuhaus' address to the Yale Veritas Forum in 1996, entitled "Is There Life After Truth?" He writes, "The Christian understanding is that truth is found only in following...We do not need to see the distant destination, we need to know only the company. We need to know only the One who travels with us, who says, 'I am the way, the truth, and the life. And wherever the honest quest for truth is going to take you, it's going to take you to where I am.'" (p. 25, IVP's A Place For Truth, ed. by Dallas Willard). Here, truth is relational but not relative. It is absolute, but mysterious. Truth is a person, and his name is Jesus. Neuhaus' words bring greater insight to me as I have been trying to wrap my head around John 1:14, "The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us." The Word is logos in the Greek - engaging both Jewish worldview and Greek philosophy. On the philosophical end, how do we understand "Logic" - as logos is literally translated - to be embodied in the person of Jesus? Somehow, our love for logic and truth is satisfied in the person of Jesus.

Now Neuhaus is challenging the overarching view of the academy that the notion of truth itself is obsolete. He argues that of course it's not, and that the pursuit of truth will actually be much more interesting than operating as if there is no truth. But he raises the excellent point that this view is in large part reactive to the conflict that has resulted in history (in large part) as a result of Christians claiming to know the truth. The problem here is not with truth itself, but with the pride of those who claim to know the truth. He writes that the call on Christian intellectuals is "to demonstrate that we...have understood how Christians claiming to possess the truth can indeed be destructive of public discourse. Christians who are overwhelmingly confident that they actually possess the truth in the sense of being in control of the truth can become the enemies of civil discourse. ....It is a matter of religious obligation for us to be not simply tolerant of those with whom we disagree but to eagerly engage them, for that's the course of love." It is also the course of humility, and the way of the One who claims to be Truth.

So we have a challenge before us - the claim to know the Truth and yet understand that we can never be in control of the Truth. And the more we simply pursue Him who is Truth - the more we simply follow Jesus - the more we realize how little control we really have.