Here we go…
November 29th, 2010 § Leave a Comment
I’m actually sort-of self-conscious about being the first one to get this going, but somebody has to do it right? Who knows, maybe someone else will post before I hit publish? Regardless, I want to get this underway. I’m also self-conscious of the fact that there are five ‘I’s in this first paragraph.
Where to start? In On Religion, John Caputo emphasizes a few questions that he draws from Augustine. The primary question being some iteration of “what do I love when I love my God?” It’s a fascinating question and one that I hope some of my colleagues will take up in their posts. This is not my focus, but in short, religion is about love. Everyone loves, thus everyone is religious. What is the object of love? As he says, “Religion may be found with or without religion” (3). The scriptures are full of riffs on love and Caputo re-reads passages like 1 John 4:7-8 in a way that makes you wonder if John (the first century one) was actually the first postmodernist.
My attention is drawn to another question that he draws from the venerable saint (all emphasis original):
“My modest contribution to that ageless restlessness of the human heart, the one small thing I hope to add to the philosphia perennis, is this: We do not know who we are – that is who we are. “Quaestio mihi factus sum” (it sounds better in Latin) is the way Augustine put it: “I have been made a question unto myself,” echoing St. Paul (Rom. 7:15). Who am I? I am one who finds his life a question, whose life is always being put in question, which is what gives life its salt. We seek but do not find, not quite, not if we are honest, which does not discourage the religious heart but drives it on and heightens the passion, for this is one more encounter with the impossible. We may and we must have our opinions on the subject; we must finally reach a judgment and take a stand about life, but my advice is to attach a coefficient of uncertainty to what we say, for even after we have taken a stand, we still do not know who we are. We do not Know The Secret (notice the caps!)” (18-19).
My interest lies in putting myself to the question, destroying assumptions based on nothing more than reference to authority, recognizing the impossibility of objectivity. What does it mean to start from the individual? So much of theology and philosophy attempts to start from the universal. Systematic theology starts with either universal revelation or a universal god. The flow is from the universal to the particular. What does this universal god tell us about individuals? It is always assumed that the theologian has some access to the universal in order to make these grand claims. Through some twist of (non)logic these systems of thought are claimed to be more valid because of their incoherence: “God’s ways are higher than our ways;” the theological equivalent of the playground derision: “my dad could beat up your dad!” What would it look like to step outside this framework?
Further, I’m not just interested in a simple reverse of the flow. It seems naïve to assume that starting from the individual and moving to the universal is going to fix anything. I’m not sure where this leaves me, but that is why I see this as a journey. What are some starting points?
I still think that theology is an helpful lens through which to frame discussion. As part of a directed study I have been doing some readings in a few different theological arenas: Feminist, Body, Liberation, Queer, Process, and Money theologies. As I said, I don’t merely want to develop a new set of universal principles, but to learn how to navigate different contexts, essentially, ethics. For me (and I stole this line from somewhere), theology is not about the metaphysics of some transcendent god, but about the ontology of the individual. If ‘not knowing who I am’ is what I am, what am I to do/love?

