Customer Reviews

Philosophy and Theology (Horizons in Theology)

5 star:		(2)
4 star:		(3)
3 star:		(1)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

Imagine a book in which Augustine of Hippo and Jaques Derrida are co-cupids, each aiming their arrows at your heart. Only in the hands of Jack Caputo would this be imaginable. This is a lyrical, incredible, impossible gem of a book. Caputo sings, preaches, waxes philosophic and theologic, and ultimately brings us to in the presence of two giants -- Augustine and Derrida -- each at prayer; what surprises us is that they're praying together. And, if we read carefully, we'll see that this little book is, in fact, Caputo's own prayer. I will read this volume many times.

Caputo takes the reader on a brief historical journey of the relationship between philosophy and theology. The reader moves from the pre-modern, to the modern, and then to the post modern interaction between these two disciplines.

The conversation certainly is not over at the end of the book. The postmodern relationship between philosophy and theology is in the early stages of being mined for all that is has to offer. This book is a welcome encouragement for those who are not afraid of what that may bring for people of faith and for those outside of the church.

This is a short book of about 80 pages, divided into eight chapters. The aim of the author, John Caputo, is to propose a vision of how (Western) philosophical theology might look in our postmodern era.

The first six chapters go by quickly and enjoyably, mainly because Caputo is a masterful writer, about as good as any I've run across so far. He speaks with conversational directness and clarity while also maintaining philosophical rigor and precision. The key ideas I gleaned from these six chapters are as follows:

(1) Philosophy and theology are kindred quests because they're both concerned with the big questions, even if they (purportedly) come from different angles.

(2) In the premodern era, (religious) faith dominated reason, but there was still meaningful interaction between the two.

(3) During the modern era, reason became dominant and faith went into defensive retreat. Science likewise gradually managed to marginalize both philosophy and religion. Descartes delimited God to what can be understood through reason. Kant likewise limited our understanding to a rational natural and moral order, dismissing any other ideas about God as superstition. Hegel added a historical dimension, but still centered his model on reason.

(4) The Romantics reacted to Enlightenment rationalism and scientism by attacking its austere incompleteness. Kierkegaard asserted that rationalism can never catch up with faith.

(5) Postmodernism challenged the hegemony of reason and science by noting that all reasoning and even perception involves using a perspective (language game, paradigm, etc.), and that requires tacitly accepting all the presuppositions built into the perspective. As a result, infallible "Truth" is unattainable and faith is unavoidable. This situation evokes incredulity towards meta-narratives and steers us to instead accept and appreciate details, differences, history, multiplicity, complexity, etc.

(6) In the postmodern era, each religion involves a perspective which is irreducible to any other perspective, and so it must largely be understood on its own terms, rather than according to the dictates of rationalism or science.

All of this seems reasonable to me and, again, Caputo lays all of this out in beautiful prose. This prelude thus sets the stage nicely for what I hoped would be an innovative and compelling postmodern integration of philosophy and theology in the final two chapters, using Derrida and Augustine as representatives of each camp. To present his vision, Caputo's tone shifts in these last two chapters, becoming more poetic and thus appealing largely to our aesthetic judgment rather than our critical faculties. The chapters are short, so Caputo offers only a preliminary sketch rather than a detailed portrait. Let me try to present a miniature version of his sketch, effectively a sketch of a sketch:
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Augustine and Derrida are both involved in a restless search from which they can't escape, and perhaps they don't really want to, even though there's plenty of suffering along the way. Augustine's search leads him to a love of God, but he must still struggle to answer the question "What do I love when I love God?", so his search never really ends. Derrida is unable to give the name "God" to the object of his search, so his search is more indeterminate than Augustine's, but the fact that Derrida relentlessly continues to search reveals that he's also motivated by a kind of faith and hope, and maybe even love. While these mutual searches are full of ambiguity and thus disorienting, the consolation prize is that they at least generate passion for life, which thereby elevates us above the superficial and mediocre and gives life a kind of meaning (this reminds me of Nietzsche in some ways).
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I think Caputo makes some good points here, but I generally find his juxtaposition of premodern religion and postmodern philosophy to be somewhat anti-climactic and thus disappointing. Part of the problem is surely that he just hasn't provided sufficient richness of detail. But even if he fleshes out his vision, I wonder if he's on the right track in emphasizing passion for life as a sufficient consolation for the ambiguities and suffering entailed in wrestling with the big questions. I'm not so sure, but you can judge for yourself ...

The first six chapters of this book easily warrant 5 stars, but the culminating two chapters are closer to 3 stars, so I think 4 stars overall is fair. Regarding whether I recommend this book, that's hard to say, since I loved most of the book, but then finished it feeling somewhat disappointed. Perhaps the book will work for if you expect only a starting point for looking at philosophy and theology in a new way.

This is, as the title of my review (not so) cleverly indicates, a nice little book. Caputo is a master of saying a lot in just a few words, and his writing style is engaging and pleasurable to read. In short--and the book itself is very short--Caputo traces the long and sometimes tortured relationship philosophy and theology have had with one another, and, at each stage, Caputo shows how the two can work together and sometimes damage each other. His review of Descartes was particularly enlightening for me, and he has an interesting discussion of Derrida's "Circumfessions" near the end of the book that, for this reader, was incredibly moving. One could go on and on about particular points, but I am a grad student and have to save my time for writing thoughtful and detailed reviews and such that will never been viewed by anyone but my angry professors. But, to summarize: This is a cheap, short book, you can read it in one-two sittings, and anyone interested in both theology and philosophy (especially lay people or beginners to either discipline) will find much valuable information here. I would save 5-star ratings for absolute classics, however, and this book is fairly new, so 4 stars is, for me, a high compliment.

To say that the relationship between philosophy and theology has been tenuous might be an understatement. Throughout history the two have found common ground, while other times they stand intensely opposed to each other. Yet John D. Caputo suggests, and stands, upon the feeble ground of the "and" between philosophy and theology. Caputo states, "A lot of times when we say "and," it turns out we mean "against" or "versus," and we are trying to start a fight" (3). There exists much work to be done, and weaving a coherent narrative that describes an amicable relationship between the two seems quite difficult.

Caputo does not attempt to create a theory, or grand narrative of how the two areas of thought work together. He is simply interested in how they communicate with each other. What Caputo accomplishes, however, is an coherent engagement with theologians and philosophers that promotes the sense of awe found in both disciplines. His point is made repeatedly, but perhaps most pointedly when he says, "What matters is that if the account I have given is right, then the old boundaries and high walls that modernity tried to build around reason, science, and philosophy have come down. If that is so, then the language of faith has reacquired respectability, and if faith has been restored to its rightful place among the virtues, that gives theology, which turns on faith, a new opening" (68). Philosophers and theologians are, in Caputo's words, "fellow sailors on that ocean." That ocean, then, is the ocean of faith or opposition to a "cynical refusal to believe...any surpassing quality in things that leaves us wide-eyed and breathless" (68).

Skeptical philosophers and orthodox theologians alike should read Caputo's Philosophy and Theology. Instead of accepting the modernistic notion that distinctions equate differences, and thus seclusion, the opportunity exists to risk, to find what fresh opportunities rest in both the philosophical and theological discourse. Also striking is the fact that Caputo covers a long history in such a short space: 74 pages. Whether one agrees with Caputo or not, the theologian and philosopher alike will see how to communicate complex thoughts through engaging and inviting language.

Philosophy and Theology is a must read for the theological and philosophical scholar, and for the layperson and clergy. Caputo issues a call of the coming change within academic thought. In an age when the relevancy of Christian Theology has been brought into question, Caputo responds succinctly and accurately. We must rally around the sense of awe shared in both philosophy and theology, and uplift shared questions that have demonstrated varied solutions. "Does anyone know we are here? Nietzsche asked, and he asked this for us all. In all this lies the passion" (74). "What is `the passion,'" you might ask. To find the answer, purchase, checkout, borrow a copy of John D. Caputo's Philosophy and Theology and answer that for yourself.

An informative, enjoyable and concise history of the inter-relationships between philosohy and theology. Caputo uses beautiful, inspiring phrases with images that will appeal to anyone's 'spritual side'. But, IMO, the conclusion is invalid. The argument seems to be (through an uncritical account of Kuhn): that ultimately science is just another realm of faith and hence religion and philosophy with its science are different but each a valid response to ignorance (with faith providing bonus thrills!). But the limitations of science do not need to be addressed by feelings akin to faith, and anyway such limits do not raise the status of religion. Science employs metaphor and models, it does not require faith though a particular individual may 'believe' an explanation. We still need good reason for any personal 'faith' and, for me, this criteria distinquishes religious faith from science. Caputo seeks his conclusion and hence is not critical enough of his arguments.