Moses Maimonides: The Guide of the Perplexed
(Note: I am using an abridgment of the Guide that has only about one fourth of the whole work (Guttmann edition). The original is quite large. However, that should not affect what I write about here. At least as far as a know. After all, I can't exactly check the other three fourths to see what I'm missing.)
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Faith. Reason. Perhaps you've heard of them. They are like those guys where, at a party, one is chillin' with some friends (let's say reason is over near the keg, layin' the moves on some lady friends with his dashing wit), when into the room comes faith, and oh hell, this shit won't go down well. You follow?
The role of reason in faith has been a subject almost as long as philosophy has been in existence. People have moved greatly in both directions, toward an attempted reconciliation of the two and towards a great war between them. In the current way of things one tends towards separation. This is due in no small part to the empirical paradigm, where science does its thing with observation and experiment, and liberal values generally try to keep from invoking religion (generally - I know how it is in the US). This has not always been the case. In a sense the role of philosophy in understanding religion was the locus of the whole of medieval philosophy, which is to say a good millennium's worth of thought. Many men attempted to clarify religious concepts through the application of philosophic rigor, perhaps the most famous of which is St. Thomas Aquinas. I won't be covering Aquinas, since his Summa does not sit on my dresser. One of his great influences does, however, and he is a person who seems very much to follow the same tack, and that is Maimonides.
Is it possible to reconcile faith and reason? Yes, according to Maimonides. In fact, it is not merely possible, it is necessary: "The Torah has made it quite clear that this ultimate form of service, to which we draw attention in this chapter, is possible only after God has been apprehended: to love the Lord your God and to serve Him with all your heart and with all your soul (Deuteronomy 11, 13)." (p. 188) The quote taken is generally read in a much softer sense, i.e. know who your God is, what he does, and what you should do. But Maimonides takes the word 'know' to its furthest possible reaches. To know God isn't simply to be aware of Him, but "the obligation of exercising one's independent power of thinking on the subject of God alone after having obtained the knowledge of Him, as we have explained before. This is the form of service to God which is reserved for those who have apprehended Truth." Knowledge, then, is virtually a commandment, and the highest one at that.
Maimonides is quite serious here. He goes so far as to give a program of education so that one can become best equipped to have knowledge of God. First one starts with math and logic, then the natural science (one should know God through His works, as has been argued by many others), then eventually metaphysics at the top, metaphysics being an understanding of the basic principles of God and His role in the universe and its creation as well as understanding of ideas such as creation, prophecy, etc. Through this training one eventually comes to focus one's mind completely upon God and his works (for you see, one can understand God only through His works - but more on that later).
Exactly what good comes of this knowledge? That answer is given through a long simile: the levels of understanding are like people in a city seeking a prince: some are outside, some are within the gates, some have turned away from the prince's dwelling, and some are in various sections of the prince's estate. All ultimately seek the prince (God, as you can guess), and they represent people at various levels of understanding. Those on the outside are, of course, dirty heathens. Those on the inside of the city gates are those who follow the letters of divine Law and nothing else. They are on the right track, but "they have not yet seen the walls of the palace." (p. 185) This should be paid close attention to: they have not yet truly even seen what their destination is. Maimonides does not indicate much respect for the uneducated masses, and indeed, those who will achieve knowledge of God in higher levels will be much better off. Those in various areas of the palace, getting closer and closer to the prince, are those who are at various levels of understanding. The greater the understanding, the closer to God. In fact, knowledge of God is, for Maimonides, the same as contact with God, in a sense. "[T]his intellect which has come to us as an emanation from God is the bond that exists between us and Him." (p. 188) In his reckoning, intellect is divine. This is not an uncommon medieval argument; it was a commonality that reason was what made us better than animals. Using this twist it was also a way to align a faith with God with a stress on creating understanding.
There is one group I failed to describe from the simile, and that is those who have turned their backs on the prince. You might be able to figure out without further elucidation: they are those whose speculations take them away from the truths of the Jewish religion. Here is where the fun begins, for they are not much liked. How much is not much? "It is they whose killing and the utter extermination of whose ideas is at times required by necessity, lest they cause others to go astray." (p. 185) I don't think he's kidding. Maimonides never gives the slightest bit of credit to the non-Abrahamic philosophers. Aristotle doesn't count, as he had been employed by the Muslims for hundreds of years, and he was vague enough about his concept of god to leave it open for interpretation. But Epicurus? Oh hell no. Here is the problem with reconciling faith and reason. That is, faith.
The goal of The Guide of the Perplexed is to take the man who has faith and looks to improve his faith through reason and to show that reason will lead to the faith he already has. In our less presumptuous world, we call this circular. For Maimonides this is how it works. Of course, Maimonides thinks he can use arguments to prove his theological points, and that is what the bulk of this work is about. But what about when he can't? "Do not imagine that these mysteries are completely and thoroughly known to any of us." (p. 43) That is to say, you won't get all the answers. Wouldn't it be wiser, then, to maintain a skeptical disposition instead of simply following the faith when doubt arises? No. One sides with Scripture, including when reading the Guide: "I implore every reader of this treatise in the name of God Almighty not to interpret even a single word of it to anyone else unless it clearly agrees with the opinions expressed by former authoritative writers on our Law." (p. 46) Reason will make one purer in faith, but it must be allowed only to do so: when reason does not, it makes us like those who turn away from the prince's palace, worse than even the heathens.
It is kind of funny to put it this way, because according to Maimonides, the first goal of this treatise is to "clarify the meaning of certain terms in the Bible." His stance is basically that people who take everything in the Bible literally are morons, and I wholeheartedly agree. He also does in my opinion some impressive work interpreting phrases and persons in the Bible at times. The problem, however, comes when deciding just how to interpret. This is supposed to be done with reason. But reason is subservient to the Bible, is it not? The counter claim, I suppose, would be that if one employs reason sensibly it won't be a problem, and I can give him that to a degree. But, for example:
But why should we take it literally here and not elsewhere? Maimonides argues that the eternity argument is less likely, but one could (and often did) certainly differ on this one for reason that perhaps even Maimonides himself would hold to be legitimate, and likelihood is a relative and uncertain thing anyway. Thus there remains a wrangling between faith and reason. Even for one such as Maimonides who holds reason to be vitally important for salvation, it can only be in accord with established truths. Even the interpretation of Scripture must be restrained, though its mere allowance has already created difficulties in ascertaining what is to be understood as truth and what isn't. This wouldn't be so worrisome if Maimonides didn't repeatedly state the limits of argument, but he does. How far, then, is reason really allowed to go? If one knows the answers, how much thinking is involved? And if some of the answers on the answer key need to be rewritten, which ones?
Another central concern here is the role of prophets. The ultimate goal of using reason, you see, is to become like a prophet. "This (prophecy) is the highest rank attainable by man and the utmost degree of perfection which can be found in his species." (p. 130) For if knowledge of God is connection to God, direct contact with God like that of the prophets is perfection. But I won't go into this any further, only leave it to consider.
Thus, for Maimonides, faith still wins. Of this there is absolutely no doubt. It is a strong reminder of just how different in form "pure reason" and reasoning about something are. Reason left alone is allowed to call the whole universe into question, and is indeed besought to. But reason under the heading of certain undisputed truths is more of an exercise to focus one's energies, while any movement past the taboo point is punishable by excommunication, apparently. It makes me think of a dog in a electric field "fence", where there is no real fence, but if the dog tries to leave the area it gets shocked. Freedom is only an image; the dog can see what lies beyond, but reaching it is not possible. One should at least remain careful, then, when reason and faith are held to be compatriots. We should ask what exactly this faith tries to hold onto, and where reason is allowed to go. For even the staunchest believer in reason, like Maimonides, might have a very different concept in mind than I do when they hold their faith first.
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Next up: Place your bets! Pascal's Pensees is next on the chopping block, followed by Spinoza and then the Enlightenment man himself, Immanuel Kant!
Also, a couple notices. First, given the organization and management (i.e. the lack thereof) in the Pensees, I cannot say for certain that I will find a concrete subject to write on. I generally don't like to use unfinished notes, and that's exactly what the Pensees are. Second, a close relative is visiting for the first time since August, and I may not read as quickly as normal, so I don't know how long it will be until I finish Pascal anyway.
-----
Faith. Reason. Perhaps you've heard of them. They are like those guys where, at a party, one is chillin' with some friends (let's say reason is over near the keg, layin' the moves on some lady friends with his dashing wit), when into the room comes faith, and oh hell, this shit won't go down well. You follow?
The role of reason in faith has been a subject almost as long as philosophy has been in existence. People have moved greatly in both directions, toward an attempted reconciliation of the two and towards a great war between them. In the current way of things one tends towards separation. This is due in no small part to the empirical paradigm, where science does its thing with observation and experiment, and liberal values generally try to keep from invoking religion (generally - I know how it is in the US). This has not always been the case. In a sense the role of philosophy in understanding religion was the locus of the whole of medieval philosophy, which is to say a good millennium's worth of thought. Many men attempted to clarify religious concepts through the application of philosophic rigor, perhaps the most famous of which is St. Thomas Aquinas. I won't be covering Aquinas, since his Summa does not sit on my dresser. One of his great influences does, however, and he is a person who seems very much to follow the same tack, and that is Maimonides.
Is it possible to reconcile faith and reason? Yes, according to Maimonides. In fact, it is not merely possible, it is necessary: "The Torah has made it quite clear that this ultimate form of service, to which we draw attention in this chapter, is possible only after God has been apprehended: to love the Lord your God and to serve Him with all your heart and with all your soul (Deuteronomy 11, 13)." (p. 188) The quote taken is generally read in a much softer sense, i.e. know who your God is, what he does, and what you should do. But Maimonides takes the word 'know' to its furthest possible reaches. To know God isn't simply to be aware of Him, but "the obligation of exercising one's independent power of thinking on the subject of God alone after having obtained the knowledge of Him, as we have explained before. This is the form of service to God which is reserved for those who have apprehended Truth." Knowledge, then, is virtually a commandment, and the highest one at that.
Maimonides is quite serious here. He goes so far as to give a program of education so that one can become best equipped to have knowledge of God. First one starts with math and logic, then the natural science (one should know God through His works, as has been argued by many others), then eventually metaphysics at the top, metaphysics being an understanding of the basic principles of God and His role in the universe and its creation as well as understanding of ideas such as creation, prophecy, etc. Through this training one eventually comes to focus one's mind completely upon God and his works (for you see, one can understand God only through His works - but more on that later).
Exactly what good comes of this knowledge? That answer is given through a long simile: the levels of understanding are like people in a city seeking a prince: some are outside, some are within the gates, some have turned away from the prince's dwelling, and some are in various sections of the prince's estate. All ultimately seek the prince (God, as you can guess), and they represent people at various levels of understanding. Those on the outside are, of course, dirty heathens. Those on the inside of the city gates are those who follow the letters of divine Law and nothing else. They are on the right track, but "they have not yet seen the walls of the palace." (p. 185) This should be paid close attention to: they have not yet truly even seen what their destination is. Maimonides does not indicate much respect for the uneducated masses, and indeed, those who will achieve knowledge of God in higher levels will be much better off. Those in various areas of the palace, getting closer and closer to the prince, are those who are at various levels of understanding. The greater the understanding, the closer to God. In fact, knowledge of God is, for Maimonides, the same as contact with God, in a sense. "[T]his intellect which has come to us as an emanation from God is the bond that exists between us and Him." (p. 188) In his reckoning, intellect is divine. This is not an uncommon medieval argument; it was a commonality that reason was what made us better than animals. Using this twist it was also a way to align a faith with God with a stress on creating understanding.
There is one group I failed to describe from the simile, and that is those who have turned their backs on the prince. You might be able to figure out without further elucidation: they are those whose speculations take them away from the truths of the Jewish religion. Here is where the fun begins, for they are not much liked. How much is not much? "It is they whose killing and the utter extermination of whose ideas is at times required by necessity, lest they cause others to go astray." (p. 185) I don't think he's kidding. Maimonides never gives the slightest bit of credit to the non-Abrahamic philosophers. Aristotle doesn't count, as he had been employed by the Muslims for hundreds of years, and he was vague enough about his concept of god to leave it open for interpretation. But Epicurus? Oh hell no. Here is the problem with reconciling faith and reason. That is, faith.
[The aim of our treatise] is rather to stimulate the mind of the religious man who has arrived at deep-set belief in the truth of our faith and who is perfect in the religious and moral sense. (p. 41)
The goal of The Guide of the Perplexed is to take the man who has faith and looks to improve his faith through reason and to show that reason will lead to the faith he already has. In our less presumptuous world, we call this circular. For Maimonides this is how it works. Of course, Maimonides thinks he can use arguments to prove his theological points, and that is what the bulk of this work is about. But what about when he can't? "Do not imagine that these mysteries are completely and thoroughly known to any of us." (p. 43) That is to say, you won't get all the answers. Wouldn't it be wiser, then, to maintain a skeptical disposition instead of simply following the faith when doubt arises? No. One sides with Scripture, including when reading the Guide: "I implore every reader of this treatise in the name of God Almighty not to interpret even a single word of it to anyone else unless it clearly agrees with the opinions expressed by former authoritative writers on our Law." (p. 46) Reason will make one purer in faith, but it must be allowed only to do so: when reason does not, it makes us like those who turn away from the prince's palace, worse than even the heathens.
It is kind of funny to put it this way, because according to Maimonides, the first goal of this treatise is to "clarify the meaning of certain terms in the Bible." His stance is basically that people who take everything in the Bible literally are morons, and I wholeheartedly agree. He also does in my opinion some impressive work interpreting phrases and persons in the Bible at times. The problem, however, comes when deciding just how to interpret. This is supposed to be done with reason. But reason is subservient to the Bible, is it not? The counter claim, I suppose, would be that if one employs reason sensibly it won't be a problem, and I can give him that to a degree. But, for example:
It should be clearly understood that our reason for rejecting the eternity of the world is not to be sought in any text of the Torah which says that the world is created . . . the method of allegorical interpretation is no less possible or permissible in the matter of the world being created than in any other. (p. 114)
One might even discover many equivocal passages in the text of the Torah and elsewhere with which it could be connected and which might even be considered to argue for it. However, there is no cogent incentive for us to do so unless that theory were proved (in fact, Maimonides claims that neither view - cretaion or eternity - is proved, but says that the belief in eternity "raises more doubts and is less compatible with the beliefs that ought to be held with regard to God." - p. 114). Since it is not proved, we shall neither allow ourselves to be beguiled by this theory nor pay the slightest attention to that other theory, but shall take the texts in their literal meaning. We say, therefore, that the Law intimates to us a thing which we have no power fully to apprehend. (pp. 115-116)
But why should we take it literally here and not elsewhere? Maimonides argues that the eternity argument is less likely, but one could (and often did) certainly differ on this one for reason that perhaps even Maimonides himself would hold to be legitimate, and likelihood is a relative and uncertain thing anyway. Thus there remains a wrangling between faith and reason. Even for one such as Maimonides who holds reason to be vitally important for salvation, it can only be in accord with established truths. Even the interpretation of Scripture must be restrained, though its mere allowance has already created difficulties in ascertaining what is to be understood as truth and what isn't. This wouldn't be so worrisome if Maimonides didn't repeatedly state the limits of argument, but he does. How far, then, is reason really allowed to go? If one knows the answers, how much thinking is involved? And if some of the answers on the answer key need to be rewritten, which ones?
Another central concern here is the role of prophets. The ultimate goal of using reason, you see, is to become like a prophet. "This (prophecy) is the highest rank attainable by man and the utmost degree of perfection which can be found in his species." (p. 130) For if knowledge of God is connection to God, direct contact with God like that of the prophets is perfection. But I won't go into this any further, only leave it to consider.
Thus, for Maimonides, faith still wins. Of this there is absolutely no doubt. It is a strong reminder of just how different in form "pure reason" and reasoning about something are. Reason left alone is allowed to call the whole universe into question, and is indeed besought to. But reason under the heading of certain undisputed truths is more of an exercise to focus one's energies, while any movement past the taboo point is punishable by excommunication, apparently. It makes me think of a dog in a electric field "fence", where there is no real fence, but if the dog tries to leave the area it gets shocked. Freedom is only an image; the dog can see what lies beyond, but reaching it is not possible. One should at least remain careful, then, when reason and faith are held to be compatriots. We should ask what exactly this faith tries to hold onto, and where reason is allowed to go. For even the staunchest believer in reason, like Maimonides, might have a very different concept in mind than I do when they hold their faith first.
-----
Next up: Place your bets! Pascal's Pensees is next on the chopping block, followed by Spinoza and then the Enlightenment man himself, Immanuel Kant!
Also, a couple notices. First, given the organization and management (i.e. the lack thereof) in the Pensees, I cannot say for certain that I will find a concrete subject to write on. I generally don't like to use unfinished notes, and that's exactly what the Pensees are. Second, a close relative is visiting for the first time since August, and I may not read as quickly as normal, so I don't know how long it will be until I finish Pascal anyway.
posted by Derek at 9:41 PM
1 Comments:
I hadn't heard of Maimonides. Thanks for the synopsis. He reminds me of the sort of Christians I can stomach - the thoughtful kind. They are the ones that do place their faith under the microscope of reason. At least they reject a literal interpretation of scripture without backing up such an interpretation. You are right, though, their reason is still restrained by faith. An invisible fence is a good analogy.
It seems like Maimonides did what many modern religionists do; use reason when it supports their particular interpretations and ignore it when it does not. I guess it's human nature.
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