They demanded of their rulers that they remain in constant cocoons, silky and guarded by

earthly authority. They did not ask for wings to soar into the sunlight, and the ominous threats

of full existence. They rejected freedom for hell.i

Metaphysical Courage

by Thaddeus J. Kozinski, Ph.D.

If there is one virtue accepted and applauded in every culture, among all peoples, and in every

epoch of history it is the virtue of courage. No one likes a coward. Unlike humility and meekness,

virtues unknown to the Aristotelian pagan and vilified by the Nietzschean devotee, true courage is

never impugned; acts of courage evoke aggregate affection and affinity. The relativist, the atheist, and

the hedonist despise a coward as much as the absolutist, the theist, and the stoic; it is a moral intuition

that transcends belief systems and moral philosophies. Of course belief systems, cultural backgrounds,

and world-views may affect the particular understanding and application of courage in specific

contexts (the theist affirms God's existence in an act of courage, while the atheist courageously denies

Him), but the essence of what it means to have courage is not disputed.

Physical courage connotes physical risk or endurance in the midst of overwhelming odds and

great danger for the sake of what is true, good, or beautiful; a sacrifice of one’s bodily security and

contentment in obedience to whatever is required morally in a given circumstance. One relinquishes

any self-serving or calculating motives in order to respond generously to the moral exigencies of the

external, immanent world. In this essay, however, I would like to discuss what I shall call

metaphysical courage. Metaphysical courage involves essentially the same risk, sacrifice, and moral

response as physical courage, but in relation to the inner and supernal world of intellect and spirit,

ideas, essences, and transcendentals. Dietrich Von Hildebrand describes it as

the inner willingness which is not closed against even the most unpleasant truth, which is

really free from bias, ready to make friends with things, open to the proof of all objective

1
 existence, not looking at things through a colored lens that allows only such things to pass into

the understanding as do not offend our pride and self-complacency.ii

The ability to discern deep truths and higher kinds of knowledge is not necessarily a function

of “IQ” or erudition. For, as Von Hildebrand states, “as long as we remain in this attitude of central

indolence, no intellectual acumen, no abundance of erudition, no merely formal capacity of

apprehension can open our eyes to the understanding of the deeper strata and connections of existing

things, or of higher kinds of knowledge.”iii Just as physical courage is not necessarily dependent only

upon brute physical strength or training, but also on strength of will, sincerity, endurance, and

perseverance, so is metaphysical courage not entirely dependent on native intelligence and knowledge

alone; the goodness of one’s will, the earnestness of attitude, the depth of faith and trust—one’s entire

being—is involved. Father Seraphim Rose, an Orthodox Christian monk and philosopher, writes, “The

knowledge that brings freedom is beyond any subject-object categorization; it is a knowledge in which

the whole man participates, which informs the human being in his entirety.”iv

The underlying philosophical disposition of metaphysical courage can be understood by looking at

the underlying philosophical disposition of metaphysical cowardice: a lack of faith in and trust of a

real, objective reality inviting our love, reverence, and obedience. The metaphysical coward does not

wish to have any external exigencies imposed upon him, for he desires all of reality to conform to his

presuppositions, prejudices, and plans. He is unwilling to open his soul fully to the objects and entities

around him, for he does not trust that any good will come from such vulnerability. Instead of accepting

what he considers the “imposition” of an objectively real world with infinite plenitude and profundity,

he imposes upon it his paltry perspective; he rejects a rich, resplendent reality for a scanty and

superficial one; he reduces reality to the size of his shrunken soul.

i
Taylor Caldwell, Dialogues With the Devil (Connecticut: Fawcett Crest, 1967), pp. 44-45.
ii
Dietrich Von Hildebrand, “Catholicism and Unprejudiced Knowledge from The New Tower of Babel (New York: P.J.
Kennedy & Sons, 1953), p. 141.
iii
Von Hildebrand, pp. 133-134.
iv
Eugene (Fr. Seraphim) Rose, quoted by Monk Damascene Christensen in Not of this World, (California: Fr. Seraphim
Rose Foundation, 1993), p. 192.
2
 Alas, the people of contemporary America have lost their metaphysical courage. We can not

survive as a nation without faith and trust in an objective, transcendent source of reality. National

stability, internal fortitude, and purposeful direction are qualities that stem from communally exercised

faith and trust, both deriving from and enabling the faith and trust of each and every individual. Over

three hundred years ago, Blaise Pascal decried the state of his society: “Truth is so obscured nowadays

and lies so well established, that unless we love the truth we shall never see it.”v It is not that truth is

not available in our society, but that it's being found is a function of our desire for it—and we lack this

desire. Pascal’s description of his day is a fortiori descriptive of ours, as purpose, meaning, coherence,

order, and love, things that make existence endurable and enjoyable, are diminishing as a function of

our collective cowardice. As our pluralistic society falls into pieces and becomes evermore fractured

into disparate groups with irreconcilable worldviews, the need for a uniting intellectual and moral

consensus becomes more and more urgent. But because radically different world views have radically

different first principles, it is very difficult to come to agreement through argument alone; and since

each group has its own unique philosophical starting point and mode of discourse, argument,

discussion, and debate are becoming futile.

We all need—traditional Catholics not excluded—to question boldly our assumptions and

reflect rigorously upon our first principles. Do we have a courageous understanding of what is real, or

do we hide fearfully in false first premises? Are we truly open to the deeper truths of reality, or are we

willfully closed off from them, hiding inside prejudicial systems of thought and lying language—even

as we insist we are men of Faith! If a lack of mental manhood is the underlying cause of our cultural

decline, then we need to take mental risks and perform feats of spiritual endurance in the midst of

overwhelming odds. And we need physical courage to have metaphysical courage, for dangerous is the

path the leads to truth, and those who have the courage to open their eyes will be hated by those who

do not.

v
Blaise Pascal, Pensées, quoted in Peter Kreeft, Christianity for Modern Pagans (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1993), p.
216.
3
 I shall discuss four flawed philosophical and existential tendencies that flow from ontological

faithlessness and distrust, the dual roots of metaphysical cowardice: the obfuscation of the obvious,

the vitiation of the vernacular, the penchant for process, and the reduction of reality.

The Obfuscation of the Obvious

Scientific first principles must be accepted entirely on faith. Any certainty with which all further

deductive and inductive inferences are apprehended is in virtue of the certainty of these first

principles, and thus trust, not empirical proof or logical inference, determines the degree of certitude

of any scientific conclusion. This is not easily seen because we are not accustomed to examining first

principles every time we think about or argue some scientific point. The necessity of and reliance on

faith and trust is not only a prerogative of science, however, but also of reason itself. Every time we

make a determination about the truth of anything, we unconsciously assume that our reasoning process

has the capacity to inform our minds with accurate conceptions of reality. Can we prove this? The

answer is no; nevertheless, we can really have no doubt about it; for, if we did, we would logically

have to “doubt the doubt” of our in initial reasoning process, leaving us with the sterility and madness

of absolute skepticism. And then absolute skepticism itself would have to be doubted! In short, there is

no choice but to accept on faith, without proof, at least one first principle, the reliability of reason.

It does not take much metaphysical courage in our scientific and technological age to accept on

faith the capacity of reason to apprehend reality. Our immense success in the natural sciences is a

testament to reason’s reliability. It would seem, then, that it would not require much courage to accept

the conclusion that since our reason is so remarkably receptive to reality and can construct acutely

accurate mathematical formulas that mirror magnificently the complex structure of the universe, then

the universe must have been designed for the purpose of our understanding it. However, this

seemingly obvious idea, the “anthropic principle,” is not readily accepted in the vast majority of

scientific circles. The prevailing paradigm of methodological naturalism precludes all theories which

posit intelligent design, even when the evidence leads to no other reasonable conclusion.

4
 The resistance of many scientists to an intelligent design explanation of the universe is not

founded on some other reasonable explanation for the universe based on empirical evidence, but is the

result of metaphysical cowardice. General relativity, Heisenberg's uncertainty principle, quantum

mechanics, the collapse of the wave function, chaos theory, and the limitations of artificial

intelligence are just a small number of the myriad phenomena that point to a definite uncertainty and

indeterminacy at the heart of reality, an uncertainty that suggests mystery, and an indeterminacy that

permits human freedom. However, it takes metaphysical courage to accept mystery and freedom, just

as it does to posit purposeful design. Those who study science with an air of wonder and awe allow

the evidence to carry them along to whatever conclusions it may, however threatening and mysterious

—they do not force the evidence to ride upon them. John Witherspoon, an eighteenth-century Scottish

Presbyterian minister once said, about the metaphysical cowards of his day, “The reality of the

material system I think, may be easily established, except upon such principles as are subversive of all

certainty, and lead to universal skepticism; and persons who maintain such principles, do not deserve

to be reasoned with, because they do not pretend to communicate knowledge, but to take all

knowledge from us.”vi

Those who study science without metaphysical courage, however, use their accrued knowledge

as armor against the higher metaphysical and theological insights that the knowledge is meant to

reveal. The metaphysical coward is concerned only with the empirical data itself, which he is

constantly systematizing and analyzing to garner some kind of pragmatic understanding or power from

the facts themselves. But all the knowledge in the world cannot not produce one bit of true

understanding in the absence of a humble attitude and disposition; without this, building a Tower of

Babel out of a collection of facts will not reach the heights of truth and wisdom. The metaphysical

coward arrives at false conclusions, no matter the matter the degree of his industry, intellect, and

dedication, for only a humble mind that worships not fact but truth can call forth the higher truths of

the mind and the spirit. A shallow heart and weak will does not allow one's eyes to see what is beyond

the data, to perceive what the facts are truly pointing to, and one misses what is otherwise obvious.

vi
John Witherspoon, Lectures on Moral Philosophy (New Jersey: Associated University Press, 1982), pg 73.
5
 The obfuscation of the obvious entails a perception of reality framed from looking with one's

eyes instead of through them; Blake wrote, “We are led to believe a lie when we see not through the

eye” (Auguries of Innocence). One must make the leap from the varied and disparate clues of

experience to the coherent and comprehensive understanding of what the clues signify and symbolize.

The word courage is derived from the Latin coragere, which means “an act of the heart.” This leap

occurs when the heart's disposition is courageous. Intuition is the faculty of the mind that

unconsciously assembles and arranges the “clues of observation and experience into a synthetic and

incontrovertible conclusion that bears more meaning than the clues themselves. Beginning with, for

examples, the various and multitudinous data samples in an experiment, the myriad symptoms and

idiosyncrasies of a patient in a diagnosis, or the subtle manifestations of the nature of a person in a

first meeting, through an intuitive leap we mysteriously end with an accurate and essential

understanding of what the particulars point to. Intuition is essential for the scientist, and not only the

philosopher and theologian, because often the most obvious empirical truths lie just beyond discursive

reasoning regarding particular facts.

Pascal writes of intuition in his Pensees: “The principles are in ordinary usage and there for all

to see. There is no need to turn out heads, or strain ourselves: it is only a question of good sight, but it

must be good...” (512). “Good sight” is meant here as an analogy for good “mental ability,” but not in

the sense of a quantitatively measurable mental faculty, such as analytical or mathematical acumen,

but as a way to describe intuitive ability, an ability which is not a function of raw intellectual power

alone. Intellectual power can be cultivated and augmented by acquiring knowledge, but intuitive

power is increased only by acquiring and cultivating metaphysical courage.

It takes metaphysical courage to resist passively relying upon systems of thought and dry

dogmas and to trust one's intuitive understanding. Unlike systematic, logical reasoning where there is

a number of definite premises from which obvious and necessary conclusions follow, in intuitive

reasoning it is not always possible consciously to codify the clues and analyze the process by which a

conclusion is made; one cannot always separate from the perceptive whole the different experiential

clues that have lead to it. Thus, collective analysis and discussion is not always effective in evaluating

6
the accuracy or inaccuracy of an intuitive conclusion—there is only ineffable personal conviction. For

the sake of comfort, one might prefer to shrink the world into the confines of a dogmatic system; and

for the sake of collective security and reassurance one might rather engage in dialogue leading to

approval, correction, or disapproval of this system. However, one must accept being “alone,” as it

were, with one's intuitive understanding, and so confident reliance upon intuition takes courage.

Those who resist intuitive discernment when such is demanded in the name of scientific

exactness are really rationalizing their metaphysical cowardice. The modern mania today is for

reductive systems such as Marxist materialism and Darwinian evolution. A system is simply a dry,

lifeless skeleton of thought, while intuitive understanding is living flesh. A prophet is just a man or

woman with superior intuition and the courage to use it. But a prophet's fresh and living insights, when

made into a system, become rote and mechanical dogmas. It is not cowardly, of course, to believe and

live out the dogmatic precepts of a given religious tradition, but it is wrong to rest in them. For a

religion to provide the soul life and meaning, the written and articulated laws must not simply be read

and studied but understood and lived through the heart. In Catholicism, our traditional and ritualistic

precepts must be understood intuitively and lived earnestly for them to have any sanctifying effect.

It is interesting to note that those who lack metaphysical courage are usually precisely the

ones who assume they have it. They would have us believe that what is most intuitively obvious to us

is “immature,” “naive,” and “simplistic,” to discarded and replaced by their “enlightened,” “mature,”

and “complex” views. Only those who have the courage to see reality for what it is, they say, will

accept a strictly deterministic and purposeless universe without purposeful origin and providence.

However, it takes more courage to believe that our actions are consequential, that there is meaning in

the universe, and that we are being observed now and will be judged in the future by a superior,

infinite, loving being. Eternity, heaven, free will, judgment, immortality, and love are courageous

concepts that are difficult to concede, not because they are intuitively incongruous or especially

complex, but because they leave us vulnerable and uncomfortable in our egos.

The Vitiation of the Vernacular

7
 A second manifestation of metaphysical cowardice is the way our culture manipulates and

distorts language. Kierkegaard stated in the nineteenth century that “the age of distinctions is gone.”

When we are unwilling to confront reality on its own terms, we resort to muddying concepts and

changing terms; we dilute that which we cannot drink; we soften that which is too harsh to hear.

Political correctness is metaphysical cowardice. There are two distinct procedures of language

manipulation: one is to usurp language that bespeaks of courage and goodness and apply it to acts of

cowardice and evil, and the other is to cover up harsh and unappealing ideas with neutral and insipid

language. The first method is especially expedient because, as stated at the outset, no one likes a

coward, and hence courageous language is alluring. The second method allows for easy escape from

uncomfortable truths. Just as a man might hide his cowardice by eschewing all risk and seeking

comfort, so can he hide his metaphysical cowardice by remaining insulated from reality, hiding in cool

and comfortable language.

It is difficult to remain unaffected by the distortion of language, as we are constantly

bombarded by it every day. The ideas that began in the minds of intellectuals have filtered down into

the mind-molding institutions of education, religion, entertainment, law, and the media. Much of the

present-day jargon had its inception in the minds of a metaphysically cowardly elite. The ideas of

Darwin, Nietzsche, Freud, and Marx, given birth in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, now

circulate freely through the blood of American culture. With just a little study, one could find the

intellectual antecedents of the contemporary, common America argot in the writings of a few brilliant

but cowardly men. But it takes metaphysical courage to see through the exciting veneer of the words

to their deeper connotations. From Rousseau: “act natural,” a denial of the supernatural and an escape

from the unmistakable unnaturalness of our “natural” state; “find yourself,” a call to search for

meaning and purpose inside ourselves in subjective fancy instead of outside ourselves in objective

reality; “be yourself,” a call to ignore the demands of our transcendent nature. From Nietzsche: “my

truth and your truth,” a statement that signifies fear of a real, immutable, and inexorable absolute

judge of truth. From Marx: “discrimination,” “racism,” “sexism,” “homophobia,” all signifying the

reduction of man's motivations to social and cultural forces, permitting only “institutional evil,”

8
mitigating the mystery of iniquity and deny the existence of original sin in the heart of every man.

From Freud: “he’s repressed,” “how’s your sex life?” and “sick,” an attempt to explain behavior

superficially by reducing it to only sexual and psychological categories, thereby rejecting the primacy

of the spiritual in man.

It is difficult to discern the true nature of these terms because of the ambiguity inherent in the

words that describe them. Many cherished beliefs and opinions would not be as cherished if we had

the courage to strip off the lying language and see the naked and ugly truth inside. If we have not the

courage to step back, become objective, and examine our thoughts and their attendant language, we

will mouth back lies and become complicit in the lies. Because of a perverse affinity for falsehood

stemming from a lack of metaphysical courage, we tend to imbibe these alien spirits, acclimate and

assimilate them to our intellects, and spout them back arrogantly as if they were our own creations. Fr.

Vincent Micelli states: “Those various godless philosophies of life are now commingling into a system

of thought, a code of acting, not necessarily in the minds of the intellectual shadows of the Anti-

Christ, the idea-men, the ideologues, the theoreticians, but in the collective mentality of the masses

who, in their mad rush for the utopia of unrestricted liberty, are not even aware...”vii And in the words

of Allan Bloom: “Our stars are singing a song they do not understand, translated from a German

original and having a huge popular success with unknown but wide-ranging consequences, as

something of the original message touches something in American souls.”viii

It is difficult to realize if one is under the spell of lying language because all of our concepts

are both shaped by and conformed to the words that we read and hear. Metaphysical language or

religious parlance is overused, distorted, and finally misused to the extent that it no longer connotes

any real entities or expresses viable truth. The inundation from the media of sound bytes, selective

reporting, and distorted interpretations—all pronounced with a cowardly cynicism towards anything

that bespeaks of high motives and deep truths—as well as the superficial and trendy ideas taught in

schools have affected all of us to some extent, has inculcated the American mind with attitudes of

irreverence and metaphysical indolence. And it is difficult to use language to undo what language has
vii
Vincent P. Micelli S.J., The Antichrist (New York: Roman Catholic Books, 1981), p.136.
viii
Allan Bloom, The Closing of the American Mind (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1987), p. 152.
9
done. How are we to converse with and debate against those who do not share our own language? Erik

Voeglin, in his essay “Debate and Existence,” explains how in debating the victims of modern

ideology, which is much more an existential than intellectual error, we no longer have recourse to the

language and symbols that presuppose what he calls “existence-in-truth”; for the natural law and the

classical and scholastic philosophy that presuppose it are virtually unintelligible to today's mind.

“Existence-in-error” stems ultimately, I would argue, from metaphysical cowardice, from not wanting

to face the vastness, richness and mystery of man. It is impossible to present truth effectively to the

metaphysically cowardly, as F.A. Hayek noted in the 1940's: “If one of two brothers embraces the new

faith, after a short while he appears to speak a different language which makes any real

communication between them impossible.”ix We must have the courage to loose the fetters of lying

language that shackle our minds. Let us examine the words we use and see if they correctly correspond

to the ideas in our hearts. And let us take these noble notions and find the proper words to express

them. Let us not be afraid to speak the language of metaphysical courage.

The Penchant for Process

The third manifestation of metaphysical cowardice is the contemporary western cultural

emphasis on process. The metaphysically courageous man is not afraid to be silent and still, to wait for

the world to reveal its deeper meaning. He realizes that process is only of value if it is a process from

something or somewhere definite in the past toward something or somewhere specific in the future;

process is valueless if it is not a process to a definite, determinable end, if it lacks an ultimate goal or

is not proceeding toward a goal. The nature and value of any process is determined by something

outside the process itself, for we can not look to the process alone to find out its purpose and meaning.

A concern with origins and ends is a sign of metaphysical courage in that such presupposes purpose

and meaning. One should be concerned with origins in that a study of the past, insofar as it reveals to

us something about the circumstances before and after an occurrence, provides us with clues and

insights into its ultimate significance. One should be interested in ends in that the knowledge of the

ix
F.A. Hayek, The Road to Serfdom (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1944), p. 159.
10
future may help us effectively to prescribe and proscribe good practices in relation to the present. One

must allow the boundaries of ultimate significance embodied in origins and ends to tell us something

of the definite meaning and purpose of the situation, idea, object, or person with which we are

confronted.

The tendency to ignore purpose and meaning for the sake of mere process can be seen in the

contemporary misuse of language. We praise art, for example, for its “originality,” “freshness,” and

“creativity,” but not necessarily for its intrinsic excellence and ennobling effect; however, originality

is not necessarily inherent worth. It is more important now just to “create” than to create for a definite

purpose, let alone a religious purpose. “Just do it” is the catch phrase of a culture that knows not what

it should do. The cult of the automobile, the exponential rise in television watching (in 1993 it was

over seven hours per day per household and risingx), and the hypnotic, anarchic melodies, rhythms,

and cadences of contemporary music all point to a mania for process, motion, and indefiniteness—the

symptoms of cultural metaphysical cowardice. The new virtues based on process and pragmatism have

replaced the traditional virtues based upon origins and ends. Today we praise men if they are “sharp,”,

“quick,” and “dynamic,” with the desired standard being the intensity or dynamism of thought and

movement, not the truth of the thought or beauty of the movement. Productivity, efficiency, and utility

are virtues, but by themselves can secure only superficial, worldly goals, such as comfort and security.

But the deeper virtues are good-in-themselves, prescinding from any utilitarian calculus in the practice

and cultivation of them.

The modern educational system is redolent of the regnant “process philosophy.” It is now the

prevailing belief that every one has a “right” to “get an education,” but not everything can be taught

just because a school can be built or a teacher trained for it. Since 1960 we have more than tripled the

amount of money spent on high-school education, yet SAT scores have declined.xi (Of course, a much

higher percentage of high-school students graduate, but this is the sign of only a more dynamic

looking “education process”—not higher standards!) Our public schools emphasize the creative

process to the exclusion of discipline and form, with many elementary-school English teachers leaving
x
William J. Bennett, The Index of Leading Cultural Indicators (Washington, D.C.: Heritage Foundation, 1993), pg 21.
xi
Ibid, pg. 17.
11
instruction in grammar and spelling for high-school. We are not as concerned whether or not an idea is

true, as whether or not it is creative or dynamic or controversial. In astronomy we teach an oscillating

universe theory of cosmology that discards the notion of a definite origin and end to the universe,

supplanting it with an eternal process of universal big-bangs and waning-whimpers. Finally, our

regnant paradigm of evolution explains the origin, duration, and end of human life in terms of mere

process. We even depict a God who is in perpetual process; “process theology” posits a mutable God

who can suffer like the humanity he created. Must we project our metaphysical cowardice onto the

very maker of metaphysics! We would rather have an indefinite God who ignores indefinite sins then a

definite god calling for definite holiness.

The Reduction of Reality

The fourth and last manifestation of metaphysical cowardice I would like too discuss is

reductionism. The universe can not be reduced to the size of our souls without our souls being

shrunken in the process. It takes courage to accept the infinitude, mystery, unpredictability, and

authority of objective reality. Our souls yearn for these as its very food, but when we become

metaphysically cowardly, we stunt the growth of our souls by refusing to eat. Just as our physical

stomachs shrink when they become accustomed to a sparser diet, so the stomachs of our souls, as it

were, shrink when they imbibe only a dry, de-mystified, reduced universe. Authority, order, hierarchy,

purpose, and meaning—the universe is made of these. We can see them in the hierarchical

astronomical makeup of matter: stars forming star clusters, star clusters forming galaxies, galaxies

forming galactic clusters, and galactic clusters forming super clusters; in the perfect orderliness of

mathematical formulas that mirror the cosmos; in the hierarchy of natural being; in the manifold

structure of the DNA molecule with layers upon layers of complex structures forming an intelligible

architectural language. Man’s soul is a microcosm of the universe, but it takes courage to admit its

existence. Instead of admitting the higher life of human nature, we reduce ourselves to the level at

which we feel most comfortable.

12
 Reductionism is essentially the denial of any absolute and objective metaphysical or spiritual

truth, and it is the philosophical rationalization par excellence of metaphysical cowardice. Since the

sixteenth century, there has been a consistent and deliberate reduction of the metaphysical world,

while the physical world as we know it has exponentially expanded. A flip-flopping pattern can be

seen, with an oscillation between ideas that emphasis objectivity at the expense of subjective

experience, and ideas that support subjectivity at the expensive of objectivity. A consensus about

reality in both spheres has grown ever wider as the centuries have progressed. The Protestant Revolt

emphasized individual, subjective interpretation of revelation in contrast to the objective, communal

authority of the Catholic Church. With the integrity of Christendom sundered through excessive

subjectivity, we see a pendulum-like reaction in the Enlightenment’s overemphasis on objectivity

through reason alone. For the sake of recreating cultural unity, reality was reduced to whatever could

be conceded using only the universal and religion-transcending faculty of reason. The nineteenth

century saw the rise of romanticism, which turned once again towards subjectivity with a renewed

emphasis on genuine feeling and authentic emotion. The antithesis to this in the same century was

logical positivism, which reduced the metaphysical world to an even smaller extent than did the

Enlightenment; truth and meaning were reduced to what could be ascertained directly and empirically

and articulated in strictly “logical” terms. The gap between the objectivists and the subjectivists is at

its widest today, with methodological naturalism positing a thoroughly reduced and intensely

objectified world, and postmodernism asserting the absolute of no absolutes and the nonexistence of

any purely objective reality. These two disparate philosophies are inherently irreconcilable, yet they

are held simultaneously by many today. Being intensely reductionist theories, they are both premised

on a thoroughly reduced concept of truth, and although they suggest antithetical ideas about what is

real and what is knowable, they both reject enough metaphysical, epistemological, and spiritual truth

to belie contradiction.

The reductionist systems of logical positivism, naturalism, and dogmatic relativism brought

forth in the Enlightenment have spawned more extreme reductionist systems, such as Marx's economic

materialism, Freud's psychology of the unconscious, and Darwin's survival of the fittest. And these

13
paved the way for such pernicious political and cultural trends as radical egalitarianism, the sexual

revolution, and cultural narcissism. Each of these reduces some essential metaphysical or spiritual

aspect of reality to render it observable, controllable, and systematizeable. Economic materialism

separates men into economic classes and reduces all human motives to the pursuit of wealth, an

ideological system is built solely upon economic empiricism, and man is explained and controlled

through economic manipulation. Freudian psychology reduces all the higher values and strivings of

man to neurotic responses to sexual frustration, an ideological system is built solely upon psycho-

analytical data, and man is explained and controlled through psychoanalysis and therapy. Darwinian

natural selection reduces all of man's motives to the level of survival, a system is built solely upon

survival fitness, and man is explained and controlled through genetic engineering and population

control.

We can only reduce the world in our perception, for the world will never change ontologically

no matter how much we desire it. We can, nevertheless, try to hide in our perceptions and rationalize

away our metaphysical cowardice. Just as there is always a rock to hide under and a path to run to in

order to avoid physical danger, so there is always some idea to hide in and a philosophy to run to in

order to avoid metaphysical danger.

Uncomfortable Metaphysics

How we are to gain metaphysical courage? Ultimately, it is a free gift from God, but there is

one human endeavor, I think, that may augment at least our disposal to the great gift of metaphysical

courage. I think the renunciation of excessive physical pleasure and comfort may not only strengthen

and purify our physical bodies, but also our metaphysical souls. As physical strength and training can

aid in the exercise of physical courage, metaphysical strength and training may help us to develop our

metaphysical courage. We have not been born into this world to remain comfortable, physically or

metaphysically. In the comfort-coveting country of contemporary America, we must be wary of both

kinds of comfort. If we are afraid to suffer physically for our beliefs and convictions, we will most

probably choose to believe that which will lessen any potential suffering, and this may be at the

14
expense of believing what is true and good for our souls. Worldly knowledge alone is quite

satisfactory to the worldly man who seeks his contentment with the materialistic things of this world;

but metaphysical knowledge is needed for the spiritual man who seeks his contentment with the things

of the spirit, who seeks his home in something that is not of this world. Father Seraphim Rose once

said: “Why do men learn from pain and suffering, and not through pleasure and happiness? Very

simply, because pleasure and happiness accustom one to satisfaction with the things given in this

world, whereas pain and suffering drive one to seek a more profound happiness beyond the limitations

of this world.”xii We will never realize how metaphysically cowardly we are until we become

physically brave; for it takes physical courage to have metaphysical courage. We must, then, practice

asceticism and self-mortification to destroy our shelter of physical comfort and our security of

physical pleasures. And only when one courageously renounces a life of comfort, ease, and pleasure

will one understand why it was so necessary to do so—action precedes apprehension. Pascal writes:

“‘I should have given up a life of pleasure,” they say, “if I had faith.” “But I tell you: “You would

soon have faith if you gave up a life of pleasure. Now it is up to you to begin. If I could give you faith,

I would. But I cannot, nor can I test the truth of what you say, but you can easily give up your pleasure

and test whether I am telling the truth.’”xiii

By hiding in systems of thought security built with lying language and engineered with no

purpose save the building process itself, we have obfuscated the obvious, vitiated the vernacular,

reduced reality, and shrunk or souls. Let us use our inborn intuition to lyse our language of its

poisoned presumptions to discover the profound purpose for which we were made. Are we sexually

frustrated, money mongering, upright apes residing in a world with no beginning, no purpose, and no

love? Or are we are eternal beings made in the image of God and created for ceaseless wondering at a

world that refuses, despite all our attempts, to be reduced.

xii
Rose quoted in Christensen, pg. 94.
xiii
Pascal, Pensees (240).
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