Impudence on Stilts

Fundamental assumptions are like the backs of our heads. We all have one, and none of us can see our own. One of the most exasperating features of working through literature on postmodernism is the fact that, for all the talk, the postmodernists can’t deconstruct their way out of a paper bag.

One basic assumption underlying all forms of humanism, whether it is an optimistic humanism or not, is the assumption that epistemology is a generic problem for “humans.” We all have to answer the same questions, the thinking goes, and we all have to submit to the same puzzles. But the Bible does not teach this — rather, it teaches that from the very beginning, God has divided the rebellious race of men into two categories, and these two groups know differently. God promised constant enmity between the seed of the woman and the seed of the serpent. The Scriptures tell us that these two seeds have a different “language,” a different “hermeneutic,” a different epistemology. The seed of the woman have an epistemology of obedience that makes no sense to the unbeliever. Jesus put it this way. “If any man will do his will, he shall know of the doctrine, whether it be of God, or whether I speak of myself” (John 7:17). What is the Lord saying here? He is telling us that the one who is willing to obey will know. The one who is not willing to obey will not know. So then, Bob’s your uncle. The Bible most emphatically does not promise a single way of knowing to all men. The assumption that there must be this common humanistic bond is actually an assumption that rules out the Christian faith from the outset.

This is why there is always room to doubt — for doubters. The unbeliever does not find the evidence compelling. He sees cracks and crevices in the argument. But he does so because he does not wish to repent. For example, Richard Rorty knew that only “a theism that combined a God with equal measures of truth, love, and justice, could do the trick. But since I could not imagine myself being religious, and had indeed become more raucously secular, I did not consider that to be an option for me.” Note that phrase — could not imagine. As with so many other things, it again comes down to this — a failure of imagination.

This is why believers find many things compelling (as they ought) that leave unbelievers with philosophical problems spun tight around their axle. The word semiotics comes from the Greek word for signs, which were the miracles that Jesus did in front of people. And when He did them in front of people, some were convinced by the semiotic display, and some were not convinced. Those who were not convinced were prevented from coming to faith by their sin. The first witnesses of the resurrection of Jesus Christ (the guards) had an amazing bit of information on their hands. But what did they do with the sign? They ran off and took a bribe to supress the truth of what had happened. Had they been willing to obey, they would have known that Christ was from God. But as it was, a man came back from the dead, on their watch, and they still couldn’t figure it out.

Another humanistic assumption in epistemological discussion is the assumption that human language is somehow a human construct. In his discussion of the limits of human discourse about God, Carl Raschke talks as though human discourse about God is a function of theological speculation only. But human language is not just a carrier of the latest postmodern hooey from the academy, it is also the carrier of Isaiah’s prophetic utterance, through which God Himself is speaking in human language. To argue that human language is inherently limited sounds humble, but it is really impudence on stilts. Suppose a man is chained to a dungeon wall, and he demonstrates to his cell mate, beyond all reasonable doubt, that they cannot touch the jailor’s nose. It does not follow from this, I would like to maintain, that the jailor cannot touch their noses. Perhaps human language was a creation and gift of God. Perhaps God designed it to talk about Him, and to commune with Him. Maybe it isn’t a rickety jumble of linguistic sticks. From the ancient humanist (and sophistical) boast that man is the measure of all things, we have now come to the end of the postmodern cul de sac. “Man is the muddle of all things.”

But not if he is willing to obey Jesus.