Notes from my days at Durham continue...
38. I mentioned that Helen Fox was another one of the Residential Tutors in John's. She was from the Isle of Wight and I forget how far removed she was from the throne. It might have been in the high 90s. They track these things. How many people are in line to the throne ahead of me?
I joked to her once that she had helped me understand the French Revolution. She actually was quite nice and unpretentious. But there was also something about her that made saying she was 98th or something from the throne make a lot of sense to me.
She told me a story about some extended family member on the Isle of Wight that seemed to express it all. Apparently, some men were working on the sewer system that ran in front of this relative's house. But the aunt (or whatever the relation) was afraid that if she used the restroom while they were working, they would see the results.
So she invited them in for tea and "biscuits" (bread sweets) so she could use the restroom in peace.
39. At some point, I believe she had invited Neil and me to her flat up the Bailey. I'm not even sure if I was serious, but I said something like "I'll just make up my own definitions for the words in my own private language."
"Ah, but isn't that exactly what Wittgestein said you couldn't do -- have a private language? Meanings come from the language games we play in a certain form of life." Something like that.
I'm not sure how much I knew about Wittgenstein at that time. But I didn't really know much about Wittgenstein at the time, and there's nothing like feeling embarrassed to get you to do a little research. I think I may have also had conversations with David Mossley about Wittgenstein after that (PhD student in philosophy).
40. Wittgenstein blew me away. He had lived in the first part of the twentieth century and died in 1951. A very colorful figure. Almost certainly on the spectrum. Think Sheldon.
His early life is quite amusing at points. Wealthy but gave away his inheritance. Had himself put on the front (Austrio-Hungarian) lines of WW1 to see if his philosophy could take it. Argued with Bertrand Russell at Cambridge over whether there was a rhinocerus (in the room?). Wrote a treatise in seven points that he thought had solved all the problems of philosophy. Then wanted to go work in a factory in communist Russia (They would have been glad to take him as a professor, but weren't interested that he work in a factory.)
His seventh point was interesting, "Whereof one cannot speak, one must be silent."
At some point, Russell wanted him to come to Cambridge. Unfortunately, he didn't have a doctorate. As an indication of his personality, he suggested that if his Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus was really that good, they should give him a doctorate for it. OK, fine. Just write a preface. Wittgenstein refused. They gave him a doctorate anyway.
41. It's really his later work, though, that brought such insight. Wittgenstein's earlier work assumed something he called a "picture theory of language." It is essentially the way most people think about language -- including most pastors. Going back to Augustine, it assumes that words picture things. I say "house"; you picture a house.
This works to a point. Words often do relate closely to things. But you might say that's only a portion of our language. For example, what does "is" picture? What does "righteousness" picture? What does a "wild goose chase" picture? (Don't say someone chasing a wild goose, because almost no one pictures that when they use that expression.)
The Wittgenstein story is typical. An Italian friend of his said, "Hey Ludwig, picture this" and playfully gave him a rude gesture. But alas, Wittgenstein couldn't say what the equivalent of giving someone the finger pictured. Its meaning is not some "thing" it pictures.
42. That was the beginning of a revolution, and the secret to much of my insight is that I know it and you don't. :-) The meaning of language is in how words are used. Words don't have meaning "in them" per se. They take on meanings in "language games" we play in different "forms of life."
Take the word fire. You light a fire and your Augustinian picture theory seems to work. I say, "fire," and you picture red stuff.
But what if a solider says "fire"? What if a boss says, "You're fired"? What if I play a song called, "Come on baby light my fire"?
Each one of these expression is playing a different "language game" in a different setting. And the meaning is different. Since Wittgenstein, these insights have been extended. Words don't simply inform. They do things. If I yell "Fire!" I'm probably suggesting that you're in danger and should probably leave the building quickly. If a couple says, "I do," they are marrying each other.
By the way, this is why I always roll my eyes when someone says, "Don't say, 'How are you?' unless you really want to hear the answer." The words "How are you?" perform a social function in most cases. Sure, if someone starts to answer, listen to them. But when that happens, the language game has changed. The normal game for that phrase is social and affective, not cognitive or "logos."
Sheez.
43. This secret knowledge has tremendous implications for understanding the Bible and all sorts of things. When you take a Bible study course and you learn about word fallacies, they mostly are simply playing out these insights on language. Has anyone ever told you that the church is made up of the "called out ones" because ekklesia comes from ek and kaleo.
Nope. The meaning of ekklesia at the time of the New Testament depended on how people were using the word at the time. It doesn't have to have any obvious relation to the history of the word or the parts of the word (etymological fallacy). Baptizo doesn't have to mean immerse just because its root meant to dip (root fallacy). The meaning of words wanders over time and space.
Frankly, half the things preachers say about Greek and Hebrew words from the pulpit are wrong because they don't understand this principle. Kittel's theological dictionary -- not only spearheaded by a former Nazi but riddled with word fallacies that don't understand how language works. Ironic that the philosophy of a Jewish man would unravel it.
44. You might see how this problematizes a narrow understanding of sola scriptura and explains why there are thousands of Protestant denominations. Words don't have fixed meanings in them. When Luther said, "The authority for Christian belief and practice alone," he set in motion the inevitable fragmentation of Christianity. Since texts can have many meanings, the Bible has taken on countless different meanings not only for all the different Christian groups but all the individuals reading the Bible.
Gödel's incompleteness theorem also comes to mind here. I first learned about Gödel from Paul Hermann I think in high school. Certainly didn't understand him then and may not even now. By the way, I saw Paul maybe three years after high school graduation. He told me Kant changed everything in philosophy. As with Helen Fox, I was a bit embarrassed inside because I didn't really understand Kant. I really learned Kant my first year of teaching.
And I more or less agree with Paul now. Don't tell him. I responded something about Aquinas at the time.
Gödel's theorem suggests to me that no system can internally provide its own foundations. An ideological system requires grounding principles from outside it.
This is especially true with Scripture. Scripture does not and could not tell me what the canon is. That is a decision that must be made from outside the text. I need a set of language games and at least one form of life to interpret the words of the Bible. "Orthodoxy" presents a set of such. Denominations often do.
Bible scholars generally try to read each biblical text in relation to its original languages games and forms of life. But this also results in a fragmented text because there are so many of them. This is why some in the past have said that it is not even possible to identify a biblical theology. (It also seriously threatens the idea of a biblical worldview.)
So much is going on under the hood of our Bible reading, and most of us -- including most pastors -- don't have a clue. Again, Wittgenstein is my secret weapon to see such things.
45. These insights also undermine what I have come to call the "Platonic fallacy." This is again the notion that ideological systems are real.
Let me share Wittgenstein's sense of "family resemblance." Let's say you came to a Schenck reunion, and I ask you what the essence of a Schenck is. You say, "Well, some of you have big noses. Some of you have big ears. Some of you talk pretty loud."
But then I push back. "Well, some noticeably have big ears or big noses, but not everyone does. Some are loud but some aren't." What Wittgenstein noted was that there isn't really an essential Schenck here. What there is, is a collection of traits or "family resemblances." Not every Schenck has all the characteristics. Two Schencks might not have the same characteristics at all but have some of the characteristics from the grab back of Schenckness.
When we apply this to Marxism or Wesleyanism, we see that two Marxists might look quite different from one another. Two Wesleyans might look quite different from each other. They each would likely have some features from the common cup, but they might not have all.
You can see how this wreaks havoc with the argument that says, "You have this piece in your thinking that is also in communism; therefore, you are a communist." That doesn't follow at all. Both cyanide and bread have carbon in them, but one is deadly and the other isn't.
Wittgenstein has been my secret weapon, mainly because most people are unreflective in the way they read the meaning of the world. Thanks, Witty.
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