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Faith, Reason,
and Culture
An Essay in Fundamental Theology
George Karuvelil
Faith, Reason, and Culture
“There have been many books on faith and reason but none comes close to the
erudition and comprehensiveness that characterize this book. Karuvelil’s resource-
fulness in philosophy and his long experience in interreligious dialogue enable him
to explore important theological themes in original and highly informative ways.
Thoroughly researched and rigorously argued, this book will prove indispensable
for both theologians and philosophers who want to explore new frontiers in in the
area of faith, reason and culture.”
—Louis Caruana SJ, Dean, Faculty of Philosophy,
Pontifical Gregorian University, Italy
“George Karuvelil’s Faith, Reason, and Culture: An Essay in Fundamental Theology

is a real tour de force, which will delight those interested to explore the complex
issue of the rationality of religious belief. Integrating Kierkegaard’s insistence on
religious belief as existential concern and adroitly pressing into service
Wittgenstein’s concepts of ‘language game’ and ‘grammar,’ Dr. Karuvelil has
developed a convincing case to justify religious belief. In this process, he has built
on the work of contemporary philosophers whose analyses he has found fertile
while not mincing words in his critique of authors whose thinking he judges has
gone astray, being particularly severe on those who are wedded to scientism as the
last word in human rationality. Lucid writing, helpful introductions and summaries
and numerous examples make this book intelligible to non-professionals while
professionals will find the acute analysis and meticulous argumentation worth care-
ful attention.”
—Lisbert D’Souza, Emeritus Reader in Philosophy, Jnana-Deepa
Vidyapeeth (Pontifical Athenaeum), Pune, India; former Assistant
to the Superior General of the Society of Jesus
“With skillful and patient archaeology of the divide between reason and faith,
especially in modernity and Western thinkers, resulting in severe harm for both,
George Karuvelil convincingly shows that to successfully meet the challenges of
contemporary religious pluralism we must, as Pope John Paul II says, breathe with
both lungs and fly with both wings, namely, reason and faith. With this work,
Karuvelil establishes himself as a first-class authority on fundamental theology. At
a time when truth is dismissed as ‘alternative facts,’ Karuvelil’s robust confidence
in both reason and faith is all the more needed and urgent.”
—Peter C. Phan, The Ignacio Ellacuria, S.J. Chair of Catholic Social
Thought, Georgetown University, USA
“In its grand sweep of the history of philosophy, theology, and modernity, the
book provides a remarkably open access to a theological project that is rationally
based, and addressing the intellectual debates of our contemporary times. The
author opens up a splendid panorama of reason and critically challenges its
Procrustean curtailment by scientism and positivism. The book is deep, and at the
same time, highly engaging and accessible to a wider readership, thanks to its clar-
ity of thought, expression and cogency.”
—Felix Wilfred, Emeritus Professor, University of Madras, India
George Karuvelil
Faith, Reason,
and Culture
An Essay in Fundamental Theology
George Karuvelil
Faculty of Philosophy
Jnana-Deepa Vidyapeeth
Pune, India
ISBN 978-3-030-45814-0 ISBN 978-3-030-45815-7 (eBook)

https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-45815-7
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To My Parents, Varkey and Rosamma, for teaching me the meaning
of Faith
Preface
There is a story of an aspiring naturalist experimenting with a frog. He

takes the frog and puts it on a white sheet of paper and yells: ‘JUMP!’ The
frog jumps. Then the experimenter cuts off the legs of the creature and
yells again, ‘JUMP!’ But this time the frog does not jump. Pleased with
himself, the experimenter concludes: ‘After having its legs cut off, the frog
became deaf!’ Such is the story of modern epistemology and its applica-
tion to religion.
A razor is a wonderful tool in the hands of a barber, a knife in the hands
of a surgeon, and shears in the hands of gardener, as they know when and
where to use their tool. Here I have in mind the famous tool known as
‘Ockham’s razor’, named after its inventor William of Ockham
(1285–1347). Given the metaphysical exuberance of his times, he wisely
suggested that we should not multiply entities unnecessarily. But subse-
quent moderns, infatuated with newly emerging disciplines, used the razor
for pruning the sources of knowledge that did not pass the test of science.
Thus God and the revelation of God, based on human testimony, were
declared unacceptable unless backed up by empirical evidence. Habituated
to centuries of arguments for God’s existence, theologians made repeated
attempts to provide such a backing, but these efforts proved to be like ask-
ing the frog without legs to jump; theology remained in cultural exile.
Friedrich Schleiermacher (1768–1834) tried to circumvent the razor and
make Christian faith acceptable to modern culture by introducing reli-
gious experience as a source of knowledge.
In the twentieth century, theologians continued attempts to reach out
to the modern world through what had come to be named ‘fundamental
vii
viii PREFACE
theology’. However, this branch of theology reached a stage where it was

being ‘threatened with non-existence’, although the need for such a disci-
pline had not disappeared. These factors prompted Gerald O’Collins to
write about the need to re-think fundamental theology. This monograph
responds to that need and attempts to carry out the task systematically. It
follows Schleiermacher in using religious experience to circumvent the
modern use of Ockham’s razor. Time seems ripe for such an undertaking,
as the harshness of the modern straightjacket has been loosened and the
relativistic impact of the postmodern free-for-all has begun to be felt.
Accordingly, this book attempts to seek truth in a pluralistic world.
The work progresses in three stages. Since the heart of the modern
challenge to religion is epistemological, the first part, ‘Science and
Religion’, critiques the epistemology that is at work in thinking about
religious diversity and about religion itself. It also marks the transition
from the modern to the postmodern world. The second part, ‘Existential
Reasons: Conviction, Communication, and Truth’, will bring together
later developments in epistemology and philosophy of science, and so pro-
vide an alternative to the scientism of the moderns and to the wholesale
pragmatism of the postmoderns. And the third part applies this alternative
epistemology to religious experience. It uses well-known instances of
nature mysticism (‘extrovertive’ mysticism of Walter Stace) to explicate a
concept of the divine that is as faithful to the monotheism of Christianity
as to the monism of Śankara. I end by going beyond the God of theism to
point out the philosophical basis for the foundational Christian experi-
ence, leaving the more theological treatment of Christology to those in
that field.
Since the book is addressed to a wide variety of readers—ranging from
scholars of philosophy and theology to anyone interested in the rationality
of religion—I would suggest that those without philosophical and theo-
logical background go straight to Part III after Chap. 1. The main ideas of
Part III would be sufficiently intelligible even without the background of
philosophy or theology. They can then proceed to the other parts for
knowing the rationality of what is done there.
In many ways, this book has been almost writing itself. For a convinced
theist, that is a way of talking about divine providence at work. Faced with
numerous difficulties, a few and brief glimpses of the different kinds of
‘natural mysticism’ (mentioned in the third part) kept prodding me to
give wings to those experiences. Therefore, my gratitude is, first and
PREFACE ix
foremost, to God for bringing to light something that has been in the
making for decades. It got done, bit by bit, piece by piece, one issue
at a time.
My intellectual debts are numerous: first of all, to scholars whom I have
encountered through their writings. Antony Flew sparked my quest. John
Hick, Søren Kierkegaard, Ludwig Wittgenstein, W.V. Quine, William
James, Walter Stace, Steven Katz, and, the ever reliable guide, Thomas
Aquinas, have helped me move ahead. Then there are Richard Rorty,
Michael Williams, Hilary Putnam, William Alston, Alvin Plantinga, and
others, whose insights have contributed to the making of the positions I
have developed in this book. I am grateful to the editors and publishers of
Theological Studies, Zygon: Journal of Religious & Science, Vidyajyoti
Journal of Theological Reflection, and Journal of Dharma, where I devel-
oped some of the ideas found in this book. Chapters 2 and 5 have been
published earlier in Theological Studies and an earlier version of Chap. 4
was published in Zygon. I am grateful to them for permitting me to re-use
the material.
My immense spiritual and emotional debts shall go largely unrecorded.
I cannot but mention my parents from whom I learned what it means to
live religiously. It would also be a gross failure not to mention the pluralist
ethos of my country (India) that stretches back several millennia, without
which I would not have learned the harmonious blending of differences,
an ethos that is presently under threat from the powerful forces of a post-
truth world.
I am grateful to the Society of Jesus that has given me the opportunities
for pursuing this research. I am indebted in very special way to Gerald
O’Collins. Although he came into the picture only at the last stage in the
long journey of the book, that journey could not have made it to the final
lap without his love and friendship, support, encouragement, and patient
reading of the text. Finally, I am grateful to my students. When a person is
on a constant search, his students are often enthused, and their enthusi-
asm, in turn, encourages the teacher. But students can also become unwit-
ting guinea pigs for experimenting with new ideas. Therefore, along with
my gratitude I also offer my apology to them.
Pune, India George Karuvelil

November, 2019
Contents
1 Reason: The Multi-Coloured Chameleon 1

1 The Vision and Mission of Fides et Ratio 2
1.1 Pope Benedict XVI: Missionary of a Rationally
Engaged Faith 2
1.2 A Vision for Future 4
1.3 Terms: Natural and Cultural 5
2 Role of Culture in Relating Faith and Reason 6
2.1 The First Twelve Centuries: Theology as Philosophy 6
2.2 Thomas Aquinas: Philosophy as a Bridge to Culture 7
2.3 Neo-Thomism: Philosophy as a Shield Against Culture 9
2.4 Impact of the Modern View of Reason 16
2.5 Vatican II: Dissolution of Philosophy and Its Aftermath 18
3 Aquinas as ‘Exemplar’ 22
3.1 Obligating Reasons? 22
3.2 Exercising Officium Sapientis Today 25
3.3 Faith and Reason in Non-Roman Catholic Christian
Traditions 26
4 The Structure and the Argument of the Book 28
4.1 Part I Science and Religion 30
4.2 Part II Existential Reasons: Conviction,
Communication, and Truth 32
4.3 Part III Reasoning About Faith: Fundamental
Theology 35
xi
xii Contents
Part I Science and Religion 37
2 Religious Diversity and Theology 45

1 Pluralists and Their Argument 47
2 Examining the Argument 51
2.1 Ptolemaic Theology and Conceptual Isolation 52
2.2 Data as Facts Interpreted in a Certain Way 55
2.3 Interim Conclusion 58
3 Tracing the Source of ‘Ptolemaic’ Theology 58
3.1 Superiority and Subjectivity 59
3.2 Theology as Existential 64
3.3 Implications 68
3.4 Towards a New Map 71
4 Conclusion 74
3 Science and Religion: Some Parables and Models 75

1 Theology and Falsification 76
1.1 Hare: Religion Is Not Science 78
1.2 Mitchell: Religion Does Not Violate Logic 80
1.3 The Task of Fundamental Theology: An Initial
Statement 83
2 Science and Religion: The Prevalent Views 84
2.1 Science Versus Religion: The Conflict or Warfare Model 85
2.2 Science Is Religious: Holy Science Model 88
2.3 Naïve Metaphysical Realism (NMR): The Common
Ground 90
2.4 Religion Is Not Science: The Autonomy Model 93
2.5 Science and Religion: The Experiential Model 94
3 Rejecting the Traditional Models 95
3.1 Contrary to Facts 96
3.2 Religious Ambiguity of the Universe 97
3.3 Rejecting NMR 98
3.4 Religious Reasons 99
4 Conclusion100
4 Science and Religion: Autonomy and Conflict103

1 Autonomy Model103
1.1 Wittgensteinian Language Games104
1.2 Stephen Jay Gould’s NOMA106
Contents xiii
2 Beyond Autonomy: Some Criticisms of the Model107

2.1 Nature of the Autonomy107
2.2 Intellectual Schizophrenia109
2.3 Problem of Justification110
2.4 Fideism?111
2.5 A False Conflict?112
3 Where the Conflict Really Lies114
3.1 The Existential Revolution: From ‘God’s Eye View’ to
‘Being-in-the-World’115
3.2 Secularism and Its Cohorts121
3.3 Faith Is Not Necessarily Religious122
3.4 Science and Theology: Differences125
3.5 The Real Source of Conflict: AMA Theory130
4 Conclusion134
Part II Existential Reasons: Conviction, Communication,

and Truth 137
5 Communication, Culture, and Fundamental Theology151

1 Communication152
1.1 Fundamentals of Communication153
1.2 The Forces at Work in Communication156
1.3 Dynamics of Communication: The Hermeneutic
Circle158
2 Theology and Fundamental Theology160
2.1 Fundamental Theology as Propaedeutic160
2.2 Fundamental Theology and Apologetics167
2.3 Interreligious Dialogue, Fundamental Theology, and
Theology of Religions173
3 Conclusion179
6 Justification: Beyond Uniformitarianism181

1 The Wittgensteinian Contextualism of Michael Williams182
2 Some Chinks in the Armour of Contextualism185
2.1 Contextualism and Relativism186
2.2 Williams and Realism189
3 Pluralistic Realism192
3.1 Glock’s Wittgenstein192
xiv Contents
3.2 Realism: Its Epistemological Components194

4 Tapping the Internal Resources200
4.1 The Natural and the Cultural200
4.2 Teaching, Learning, and Justification202
4.3 The Evidential Procedures205
5 Conclusion210
7 Perception: Its Nature and Justification213

1 Perception: Initial Considerations214
1.1 Perception: Experience, Consciousness, and Belief216
1.2 Perception: Direct or Indirect?219
2 Some Contemporary Theories of Perception220
2.1 Causal Theory220
2.2 Disjunctivism221
2.3 Belief Acquisition Theories222
2.4 More Contemporary Theories223
3 A Grammatical Approach to Perception225
3.1 Descriptions to Prescriptions: The Supervenience
Principle226
3.2 Identifying the Grammar of Perception228
3.3 Using Grammar for Justification in the Default and
Challenge Model234
4 Developmental Continuity: Perception to Modern Science235
4.1 Posing the Problem236
4.2 Responding to the Problem237
4.3 Some Implications239
5 Conclusion243
Part III Reasoning About Faith 245
8 Mysticism257
1 Walter Stace (1886–1967)258
1.1 Stace on Mysticism259
1.2 Some Critical Comments262
2 Steven T. Katz (1944–)266
2.1 Katz’s Epistemology of Mysticism266
2.2 Katz in the Light of the Imperatives269
2.3 Proudfoot’s Explanatory Reduction of Religion271
Contents xv
3 Other Voices274
3.1 R.C. Zaehner (1913–1974)274
3.2 John Hick on Mysticism276
3.3 Karl Rahner (1904–1984)278
4 Concluding Observations281
9 Nature Mysticism and God285

1 Nature Mysticism: Experience and Analyses287
1.1 Some Experiences288
1.2 Analyses291
2 Naming the Experienced Reality: Is It God?296
2.1 Noetic Quality: Real297
2.2 Drastic Contrast: Ineffability298
2.3 Drastic Contrast: Simplicity300
2.4 Positivity: Goodness301
2.5 Living Presence: Consciousness303
2.6 An Objection306
3 More on God307
3.1 God as Creator?307
3.2 Immanence and Transcendence309
3.3 Religious Naturalism?312
3.4 Conceiving Transcendence315
4 Conclusion316
10 Religious Diversity, Christian Faith, and Truth317

1 Natural Mysticism317
1.1 Event Mysticism318
1.2 Person-Mysticism321
1.3 Implications328
2 The Foundational Christian Experience329
2.1 Recalling Developmental Continuity330
2.2 The Jewish Milieu of the Christian Experience331
2.3 The Christ-Event333
3 Justification of Religious Beliefs and Practices335
3.1 Need for Justification335
3.2 Recalling the Justificatory Process338
3.3 Is Jesus Divine?340
3.4 Additional Grammatical Rule of Christian Faith342
3.5 Some Complexities of Justification344
4 Conclusion346
xvi Contents
11 Pulling Together349
1 Summing Up349
2 Some Hints Towards Building a Map352
2.1 Resurrection353
2.2 Trinity355
3 Conclusion357
Bibliography359
Name Index387
Subject Index393
List of Figures
Fig. 3.1 Two hierarchies of reality 92

Fig. 4.1 Science of religions: Its alleged neutrality 117
Fig. 4.2 Science of religions: The real picture 120
Fig. 5.1 Bullet theory of communication 154
Fig. 5.2 Communication as relational 154
Fig. 5.3 A and B situated within their horizons 155
Fig. 5.4 Overlap of two horizons 158
Fig. 5.5 Daisy Model of Communication 166
xvii
CHAPTER 1
Reason: The Multi-Coloured Chameleon
The Second Vatican Council (1962–1965) officially opened up the possi-

bility of thinking independently of Scholastic philosophy and theology.
One unintended consequence of this opening up was a decline among
Roman Catholics in the study of philosophy, ‘not just of Scholastic phi-
losophy but of philosophy itself’.1 This impacted its theology with ‘theo-
logians … allow[ing] themselves to be swayed uncritically by assertions
which have become part of current parlance and culture’ (55). This sense
of being adrift was producing an equally problematic ‘fideism which fails
to recognize the importance of …philosophical discourse for the under-
standing of faith’ (55). Under these circumstances, Pope John Paul II saw
the need to reaffirm that ‘study of philosophy is fundamental and indis-
pensable to the structure of theological studies’ (62). He did this with the
encyclical Fides et Ratio (1998), which had been in the making for some
12 years, after closely observing the state of philosophy and theology for
more than three decades after Council.
The encylical’s insistence on the need for both the wings of faith and
reason was followed up by the Congregation for Catholic Education in
2012 making a course on faith and reason as a requirement for obtaining
1
Pope John Paul II, Fides et Ratio, http://w2.vatican.va/content/john-paul-ii/en/
encyclicals/documents/hf_jp-ii_enc_14091998_fides-et-ratio.html, no. 61. In order to
avoid excessive footnotes, I will cite the number of the encyclical in brackets within the text.
© The Author(s) 2020 1

G. Karuvelil, Faith, Reason, and Culture,
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-45815-7_1
2 G. KARUVELIL
a bachelor’s degree from its philosophy faculties.2 Both these documents

are emphatic about the need to hold faith and reason together. Neither
breaks any new ground nor provides any blueprint for accomplishing this
task. Small wonder, therefore, that seminaries tend to meet the demand
for teaching faith and reason by teaching Fides et Ratio. Such shortcut
solutions forget that the encyclical involves a large vision for the future. In
this introductory chapter I will spell out this vision and argue that follow-
ing this vision calls for greater attention to the cultural entanglement of
reason than what is recognized in the encyclical.
1 The Vision and Mission of Fides et Ratio

To begin with, the encyclical does not see relating faith and reason as an
internal affair of the Church. Rather, the faithful must rationally engage
the larger culture outside the Church. This is seen in the recognition that
philosophy is needed, ‘often the only ground’ (104) for ‘communicating
the truth of the Gospel to those who do not yet know it’ (5). This is the
missionary dimension of the vision. As a person who earnestly attempted
to carry out this dimension of the vision, it will be instructive to look at
Pope Benedict XVI’s efforts.
1.1 Pope Benedict XVI: Missionary of a Rationally

Engaged Faith
The extensive writings and engagements of Joseph Ratzinger (both as
Pope and before) are pervaded by an urgency to re-evangelize the Western
world that had become unhinged from its Christian moorings. He was
anguished that, at two crucial moments in post-war Europe, Christianity
failed to provide an anchor for those who were in search of meaningful
alternatives. The first was the youth rebellion of 1968 and the second was
the 1989 ‘collapse of the socialist regimes in Europe, which left behind a
sorry legacy of ruined land and ruined souls’.3 This anguish prompted his
2
Congregation for Catholic Education, Decree on the Reform of Ecclesiastical Studies of
Philosophy, (Decree, for short) http://www.vatican.va/roman_curia/congregations/
ccatheduc/documents/rc_con_ccatheduc_doc_20110128_dec-rif-filosofia_en.html,
60.10 b.
3
John F. Thornton and Susan B. Varenne (eds.), The Essential Pope Benedict XVI: His
Central Writings and Speeches (New York: HarperSanFrancisco, 2007), 1.
1 REASON: THE MULTI-COLOURED CHAMELEON 3
attempts to reach out and present Christianity as a rational option to his

European contemporaries.
Three of his attempts to reach out to the outside world are well known:
engaging with Jürgen Habermas, a leading public intellectual, in 2004;
addressing the University of Regensburg in 2006; and addressing the
German Parliament (Bundestag) in 2011. I shall consider only the last,
which did not have the sort of violent aftermath his Regensburg address
had,4 but still illustrates where his theological brilliance falls short in
addressing the rationality of faith in the contemporary world.
In his address, the Pope dealt with the foundations of law and the
responsibility of politicians to safeguard those foundations, irrespective of
their political affiliations. He observed: ‘Unlike other great religions,
Christianity has never proposed a revealed law to the State and to society’.
By this he was making it clear that although he was the head of the Catholic
Church, he was not a theocrat; the state has its own autonomy. Then he
went on to add that the ‘true source of law’ is ‘nature and reason’.5 The
erudite pope showed that this tradition goes back not only to pre-Christian
times, especially to the Stoic philosophers and the teachers of Roman law,
but also to juridical developments during the Enlightenment, climaxing in
the Universal Declaration of Human Rights in 1948. He did not hesitate
to draw out the implication: politicians must go beyond the concern to
secure a majority and do what is right and just.
The speech was highly appreciated, with one newspaper (Frankfurter
Rundschau) even saying that the ‘pope could have put all his critics to
shame’.6 The autonomy of the laws of state from the laws of the Church
or from similar laws like the Islamic Sharia is definitely good news—not
only for countries that are multi-religious and multi-cultural, but also for
countries with significant minority populations of the same religion as
with Shias and Sunnis or with Protestants and Catholics. The pope was
showing a way forward to the whole world.
But criticism followed the adulation. Some criticized the speech for
what they saw as overriding the majority principle as the basis of
4
This led to violent reactions from the Muslim world, including bombing of churches and
even a killing.
5
Pope Benedict XVI, Visit to the Bundestag, Listening to the Heart: Foundations of Law
http://w2.vatican.va/content/benedict-xvi/en/speeches/2011/september/documents/
hf_ben-xvi_spe_20110922_reichstag-berlin.html
6
Justus Leicht, Pope Benedict Speaks to German Parliament against Majority Rule and
against ‘ungodly’ Laws, https://www.wsws.org/en/articles/2011/09/pope-s30.html
4 G. KARUVELIL
democracy.7 I wonder if such critics would still maintain that view after
witnessing how an unprincipled use of the majority principle can be turned
into a majoritarianism that threatens the lives and livelihoods of minority
populations of multi-ethnic, multi-cultural countries like India and the
US. The more important criticism was that the Pope claimed ‘universal
acceptance of a particular worldview by declaring a specific approach to be
general’.8 As a firm believer in God, it was right for him to speak of ‘the
harmony of objective and subjective reason, which naturally presupposes
that both spheres are rooted in the creative reason of God’.9 But what
about those who do not believe in God? After all, was that not the point
of acknowledging the autonomy of the laws of state? Harmony of objec-
tive and subjective reason is deeply rooted in the history of Western phi-
losophy and Christian theology. It is a tradition that owes a lot to Stoics
and the metaphysical tradition of Christian Scholasticism. Unfortunately,
it was these very same things that the modern world revolted against. The
Pope’s outlook and his address were strong on history and tradition, but
weak in showing the rationality of faith to the secularized Europe. If the
Church is to reach out to the contemporary world, it needs to look beyond
the readymade solutions of the past and engage in the ‘daunting’ philo-
sophical task that Fides et Ratio has rightly described as ‘one of the tasks
which Christian thought will have to take up through the next millennium
of the Christian era’ (85).
1.2 A Vision for Future

That brings me to the second dimension of the vision: it is a task for the
future. The encyclical calls on Christian philosophers to ‘develop a reflec-
tion which will be both comprehensible and appealing to those who do
not yet grasp the full truth which divine Revelation declares’ (104). This
task is daunting as it requires a ‘unified and organic vision of knowledge’
in the face of a ‘splintered approach to truth and the consequent fragmen-
tation of meaning’ (85). Here we have a clear indication that at the heart
of the crisis to which Fides et Ratio responds is a theory of knowledge or
Ibid.
7
Wilhelm Guggenberger, ‘Democracy and Truth: Pope Benedict’s Speech in Berlin’, in

8
Jose Thayil and Andreas Vonach (eds.), Democracy in an Age of Globalization (Innsbruck:
Innsbruck University Press, 2015), 158.
9
Pope Benedict XVI, Visit to the Bundestag, Listening to the Heart: Foundations of Law.
epistemology. Against ‘widespread symptoms of lack of confidence in

truth’ (5) the encyclical confidently affirms that ‘Truth can never be con-
fined to time and culture’ (95). In keeping with the insistence on the
human capacity for knowing truth, the word ‘truth’ appears no less than
365 times in the document, besides another 70 occurrences of ‘true’ and
Aquinas is praised as an ‘apostle of the truth’ (44). This epistemological
task is set before Christian philosophers as something to work towards in
the new millennium.
If this vision is to become a reality, we must begin by identifying the
problem. The problem, I shall argue in the next section, is that reason is a
multifaceted thing, a multi-coloured chameleon that changes its colours
to suit the cultural environment. In order to show this I shall use the his-
tory of philosophy-theology relations from the encyclical, but adapting it
to bring out the different responses of the Church to cultural change.
1.3 Terms: Natural and Cultural

Before proceeding to history I must consider a possible objection to my
claim about the nature of reason. It might be objected that beyond the
culturally conditioned reason there is ‘natural’ reason, which all are obliged
to assent to.10 I agree. That calls for clarifying the terms ‘natural’ and ‘cul-
tural’. Natural reason in Thomas Aquinas is contrasted with reason
informed by revelation. However, since revelation cannot be taken for
granted these days, I contrast the ‘natural’ with the ‘cultural’, and not
with the revealed. ‘Natural’ refers to those human capabilities, tendencies,
and needs that are universal, such as the need for food and companion-
ship. In the context of reason, it applies above all to those human cogni-
tive capabilities that are innate and spontaneous, and therefore, common
to all. Foremost among such abilities is the human capacity for sense expe-
rience. Aquinas goes further. For him, following Aristotle, natural reason
begins with the senses. Its celebrated use is found in his Five Ways or argu-
ments for the existence of God. While agreeing that sense experience is
foremost among our common human capabilities, I am not convinced
that natural reason must always begin with the senses. I consider some
religious and mystical abilities to be as natural as sense perception. But this
10
Rudi A. Te Velde, ‘Natural Reason in the SummaContraGentiles’, Medieval Philosophy
and Theology 4 (1994), 42–70.
6 G. KARUVELIL
does not matter as far as our understanding of ‘natural’ is concerned; it is

that cognitive ability which is innate and spontaneous to human beings.
As for the ‘cultural’, it refers to what we make through our natural
capabilities, or what is built on the basis of the natural. The achievements
of science and technology, art and architecture, music and literature, social
and political organization of society, a good many philosophical and theo-
logical doctrines come under this category.11 ‘Natural’ is universal to
human beings; cultural products change with time and place. Talking
about the cultural embeddedness of reason, then, is not a denial of the
natural; rather, it is a caution against confusing the two. This is important
if Aquinas is to be the ‘authentic model’ for reconciling faith and reason
(78). Let us proceed, then, to examine the role of culture in the history of
the interaction between faith and reason.
2 Role of Culture in Relating Faith and Reason

Fides et Ratio divides the history of the relationship between faith and
reason into three parts: (1) from the beginning up to Anselm, (2) Thomas
Aquinas, and (3) the modern period when faith and reason got separated.
Since my focus is on the Church’s use of reason to respond to cultural
changes, I shall divide the modern period into two.
2.1 The First Twelve Centuries: Theology as Philosophy

The encyclical refers to the purification of the notion of divinity found in
Greek mythology through rational analysis. This purification helped the
Fathers of the Church to ‘enter into a fruitful dialogue’ and find ways of
proclaiming the Gospel (36). But this was not an uncritical acceptance of
the ‘cultural world of paganism’. This is most clearly seen in their unam-
biguous rejection of Gnosticism and its elitist outlook (37). In attempting
to defend Christianity against its detractors like Celsus, Origen adopted
‘many elements of Platonic thought’ and thus emerges an ‘early form of
Christian theology’ (39). Augustine of Hippo becomes the key figure in
‘Christianizing Plato and Neo-Platonic thought’ (40).
11
For a more elaborate treatment of culture and for bibliographical sources, see Paul
O’Callaghan, ‘Cultural Challenges to Faith: A Reflection on the Dynamics of Modernity’,
Church, Communication and Culture 2 (2017), 25–40.
The most important thing to note about this early engagement between
Christian faith and Greek philosophy is that Christianity is presented as a
philosophy,12 indeed, as ‘the true philosophy’ (38). There exists no dis-
tinction between philosophy and theology at this stage13; the only distinc-
tion is between true philosophy (Christian faith) and other philosophies.
Various factors contributed to this lack of distinction between philosophy
and theology. Chief among them was the ancient view of philosophy as a
spiritual pursuit.14 This enabled the early Christian thinkers to proclaim
their faith as a distinct philosophy that showed people how to live. The
absence of the distinction between philosophy and theology was signifi-
cant because in that situation theology engaged culture directly. For
example, we see Anselm explaining the Christian doctrine of the
Incarnation ‘as if nothing were known about Christ’.15 This situation
would change when Aquinas emerged on the scene.
2.2 Thomas Aquinas: Philosophy as a Bridge to Culture

The cultural situation of thirteenth century was drastically different from
the time when theology functioned as philosophy and related directly to
culture. Two changes are important for our purpose. The first is the com-
ing of Christendom and its impact on philosophy. We saw that one of the
reasons why Christianity could present itself as philosophy was that phi-
losophy was taken as a spiritual pursuit. But in a Christian setting, spiritual
pursuits were the responsibility of the Church and its theology. Theology
became the queen of sciences, with philosophy playing a subsidiary role.
By the time of Aquinas, however, philosophy had begun to show some
independence, especially with the work of Peter Abelard and others.
12
Winrich Löhr, ‘Christianity as Philosophy: Problems and Perspectives of an Ancient
Intellectual Project’, Vigiliae Christianae 64 (2010), 160–88.
13
This refers to ‘theology’ as understood today. As a matter of fact, the term ‘theology’ was
not favoured by early Christians for the kind of discipline they were engaged in; instead they
preferred the term ‘sacred doctrine’ for what came to be called ‘theology’. See Francis
Schüssler Fiorenza and John P. Galvin (eds.), Systematic Theology: Roman Catholic Perspectives,
2 vols. (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1991), 6.
14
Pierre Hadot and Arnold I. Davidson, Philosophy as a Way of Life: Spiritual Exercises from
Socrates to Foucault, trans. Michael Chase (Malden, MA: Blackwell, 1995).
15
St. Anselm, “Cur Deus Homo,” Fordham University Center for Medieval Studies,
http://www.fordham.edu/halsall/basis/anselm-proslogium.html, preface.
8 G. KARUVELIL
Without having the responsibility for guiding people on how to live, phi-
losophy was becoming an intellectual pursuit driven primarily by logic.
The second major change was the re-discovery of the natural philoso-
phy of Aristotle. In Plato’s scheme of things, since this material world is a
shadow of a more perfect world, it carries the footprints of the other
world. This becomes the Augustinian model for studying nature (Book of
nature) under the guidance of the Bible (Book of scripture) to detect the
imprints of God in nature.16 Such was not the case with Aristotle who
studied nature on its own terms, independent of all considerations about
God. God entered the picture not in Aristotle’s physics, but in his meta-
physics, as an explanation for changes occurring in this world. This disso-
nance between the Aristotelian outlook and the Platonic mould of
Augustinian synthesis posed a major challenge to Christian faith. The ini-
tial reaction was to ban the reading of Aristotle, but without success.17 It
was the genius of Aquinas that turned matters around and made Aristotle
look almost like a Christian.
Aquinas had to handle two problems. The first was that of integrating
the natural philosophy of Aristotle with the transcendent focus of Christian
faith. This was comparatively easy, because Aristotle himself had provided
a way of doing this by linking his physics with metaphysics and arguing
from the observed world to a First Cause of the world. The second, more
difficult, problem came from Aquinas’ realization (unlike Anselm) that
some doctrines of Christian faith (e.g., the Trinity) cannot be explained in
philosophical terms. Aquinas’ solution to this difficult problem consisted
in making a sharp distinction between natural reason and supernatural
revelation, or between philosophy and theology.
Having made the distinction, Aquinas systematically linked the one to
the other so that they complemented each other. Philosophy, especially in
its theistic arguments, functioned as the preamble or propaedeutic to the-
ology.18 ‘Just as grace builds on nature and brings it to fulfilment, so faith
builds upon and perfects reason’ (43). If philosophy is to function as a
propaedeutic to Christian theology, not any philosophy that is prevalent in
16
Stephen Brown, ‘The Intellectual Context of Later Medieval Philosophy: Universities,
Aristotle, Arts, Theology’, in John Marenbon (ed.), Medieval Philosophy: Routledge History
of Philosophy, iii (New York: Routledge, 1998).
17
Wippel, Mediaeval Reactions, 11.
18
For a detailed account of Aquinas’ view of the preambles, see Ralph McInerny,
Praeambula Fidei: Thomism and the God of the Philosophers (Washington, D.C.: Catholic
University of America Press, 2006).
a culture can do this job; only a philosophy that accords with the Christian
faith can perform that function. This realization prompted Aquinas to
reject or modify those elements of Aristotelian philosophy that did not
accord with the Christian faith.19 In this he carried forward the tradition of
the Fathers which set aside Gnosticism as unsuitable for Christian faith. In
the process of making Aristotelian philosophy suitable for Christian faith,
Aquinas also incorporated some Platonic insights into his system.20 What
he achieved was a completely new synthesis that replaced the Augustinian
synthesis, a new systematic philosophy on which he could base his theology.
The relationship between philosophy, theology, and culture is entirely
different in the Thomistic system from the Augustinian system where the-
ology directly engaged culture. By making it a propaedeutic to theology,
the philosophy of Aquinas functioned like a tightrope that bridged the
chasm between faith and the surrounding culture, and his theology func-
tioned like the balancing pole used by a tightrope walker.21 In other words
his philosophy functioned as an immediate interface between Christian
faith and the surrounding culture, theology being the more mediate inter-
face. In this tightrope walk between Christianity and culture, theology
could do its balancing act only as long as a philosophical rope is firmly tied
to the Christian faith on the one end and the prevalent culture on the
other. The philosophy of Aquinas managed to hold on to both without
compromising either. The encyclical Fides et Ratio, therefore, praises
Aquinas as a pioneer who reconciled ‘the secularity of the world and the
radicality of the Gospel, thus avoiding the unnatural tendency to negate
the world and its values, while at the same time keeping faith with the
supreme and inexorable demands of the supernatural order’ (43).
2.3 Neo-Thomism: Philosophy as a Shield Against Culture

The cultural change to which Aquinas responded was indeed a mighty
one. But it was nothing compared to what emerged during the modern
period. Modernity was the coming together of such diverse factors as the
scientific revolution, the Renaissance, or the rebirth of the classical
19
For a list of Aristotelian teachings that were found to be incompatible with Christian
faith, see Wippel, Mediaeval Reactions 14–18.
20
For the Platonic elements in Aquinas, see Patrick Quinn, Aquinas, Platonism and the
Knowledge of God (Aldershot. Brookfield USA: Ashgate, 1996).
21
George Karuvelil, ‘Christian Faith, Philosophy, and Culture: The Triumphs and Failures
of Wisdom’, Jnanadeepa: Pune Journal of Religious Studies 17 (2014), 113.
10 G. KARUVELIL
humanist-cultural traditions of ancient Greece and Rome, the religious

revolution that took the form of Reformation and counter-Reformation,
the French revolution with its promise of fraternity, equality, and liberty in
place of feudal monarchy and ecclesiastical hierarchy. Where the religious
revolution and its aftermath in the form of extended religious wars in the
name of the one true God undermined confidence in religious truth, the
new scientific discoveries provided a domain that could be publicly dis-
cussed and debated without any bloodshed. Thus, science came to be seen
as the citadel of reason. If the cultural changes in the thirteenth century
prompted Aquinas to think of reason as a bridge to culture, the domi-
nance of science during the modern period brought about a very different
understanding of reason.
The modern understanding of reason was entirely different from that of
Aquinas, in its nature, scope, and significance. Regarding the nature of
reason, Aquinas, following Aristotle, held that ‘Our natural knowledge
begins from sense. Hence our natural knowledge can go as far as it can be
led by sensible things’.22 For Aquinas, an important achievement of natu-
ral reason is proving God’s existence as from effects to cause. Further,
Aquinas believed—like his ancient Greek predecessors—that ‘all men are
forced to give their assent’ to the voice of natural reason.23 Most modern
thinkers would agree with these views about the nature of reason, with
significant exceptions like Blaise Pascal (1623–1662) who held that the
‘heart has its reasons of which reason knows not’.24
Pascal was a child prodigy who grew up to be not only a brilliant math-
ematician, physicist, and inventor, but also an ardent Christian, philoso-
pher, theologian, mystic, and apologist rolled into one. Although Pascal’s
views would be ignored at the time, history would prove him right. He
was the first modern thinker to realize that reasoning to God’s existence
does not have the kind of universally binding character that Aquinas and
other Scholastics claimed. On the contrary, such reasoning works only
with those who already believe in God. He could have been sympathetic
to such arguments, Pascal said, if they were addressed only to believers,
22
Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, trans. Fathers of the English Dominican Province
(hereafter ST) I, q 12, a 12. See also On the Truth of the Catholic Faith Summa Contra
Gentiles Book1: God, (hereafter SCG), trans. Anton C. Pegis (Garden City, N.Y.,:
Doubleday, 1955).
23
See SCG Bk.1 ch. 2; ST 1, q.1, a.8.
24
Blaise Pascal, Pensées, (Grand Rapids, MI: Christian Classics Ethereal Library, 2002),
http://www.ccel.org/ccel/pascal/pensees.html. 277.
because those ‘with a living faith’ ‘see at once that all existence is none
other than the work of the God whom they adore. But [as far as unbeliev-
ers are concerned], I see by reason and experience that nothing is more
calculated to arouse their contempt’ than such arguments.25 Indeed, it is
only believers who see the world as an effect, not unbelievers. Therefore,
at least as far as the arguments for God’s existence are concerned, reason
does not have the obligatory character that Aquinas and others attrib-
uted to it.
Pascal’s point about the non-obligatory nature of reasoning to God’s
existence is best illustrated in the life of Jean Meslier (1664–1729) who
was born only two years after Pascal’s death and who lived much before
the other stalwarts of modern philosophy such as Hume and Kant. Meslier
was a French Catholic priest who served as a parish priest for 30 long
years. He is remembered today, not for his pastoral zeal but for the ‘secret
knowledge’ he possessed that God’s existence is a lie! Given the domi-
nance of the Church at that time, he did not dare to express his inner
convictions to his parishioners. Thus, torn between his pastoral duties and
his inner convictions, he spent all the time he could spare from his pastoral
work composing arguments for not believing in God. In order to appease
his conflicted conscience, he left his writings in the form of a manuscript
addressed to his parishioners. It was published after his death as his Last
Will and Testament.26 In it he bared his soul to his flock:
It was necessary that I should acquit myself as a priest of my ministry, but

how often have I not suffered within myself when I was forced to preach to
you those pious lies which I despised in my heart. What a disdain I had for
my ministry, and particularly for that superstitious Mass, and those ridicu-
lous administrations of sacraments, especially if I was compelled to perform
them with the solemnity which awakened all your piety and all your good
faith. What remorse I had for exciting your credulity! A thousand times
upon the point of bursting forth publicly, I was going to open your eyes, but
a fear superior to my strength restrained me and forced me to silence
until my death.
As for the scope of reason, Aquinas drew two conclusions about our
knowledge of God from the view that all natural knowledge begins with
25
Ibid., 242.
26
This book is freely available at http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks as Superstition in All
Ages (1732).
12 G. KARUVELIL
the senses: (1) we cannot know God’s essence, as God is not sensible; (2)
we can know his existence as sensible things are his effects. The basic pat-
tern of this argument was taken from Aristotle and is elaborated in the
famed Five Ways of Aquinas. Kerr provides a remarkably brief one-sentence
summary of those arguments:
Beginning with features of any human experience of the world (change,

causation, contingency, gradation, finality), all of which are to be non-
religious, the arguments conclude to the existence of an unmoved mover, a
first cause, some per se necessary existent, something which is most fully in
being, and some guiding hand in nature – which everyone takes to
be ‘God’.27
Moderns question the ability of reason to pass from the physical to the
metaphysical, including the legitimacy of the move from the sensible
world to God. David Hume (1711–1776) was the key figure in this chal-
lenge. His arguments about the impossibility of metaphysics—including
such an ordinary principle as causality that we take for granted in everyday
life—would affect all subsequent thinkers. Shaken by Hume’s conclusions
about the impossibility of metaphysics, Immanuel Kant (1724–1804) set
out to establish that metaphysics is possible. But his view of metaphysics
was so severely circumscribed that, as far as knowledge of God is con-
cerned, Hume’s conclusions remained. Metaphysics in the classical sense
as ‘the study of the final, all determining and cohering foundations, wis-
dom about the oneness and wholeness of reality’28 was no longer accept-
able. These modern limits on the scope of reason are at work in Kant’s
Religion Within the Bounds of Reason Alone, published in 1793. This
became the new orthodoxy in place of Aquinas and Scholasticism.
Regarding the significance of natural reason, Aquinas held that God
can be known in two different and complementary ways: through natural
reason and through revelation. While Aquinas is very clear that natural
reason can lead us to the knowledge of God, he is equally clear about the
many limitations on such knowledge. Natural reason can teach us only
about the existence of God and some attributes like oneness, but not
about God as Trinitarian, which needs revelation. Further, even what can
27
Fergus Kerr, ‘Theology in Philosophy: Revisiting the Five Ways’, International Journal
for Philosophy of Religion 50 (2001), 115.
28
Walter Kasper, Theology and Church, trans. Margaret Kohl (New York: Crossroad,
1989), 3.
be known about God through natural reason is deficient in three ways.

Firstly, such knowledge is limited to some persons (the ‘wise’) who have
the ability, the interest, and the leisure for the use of reason. Secondly,
even those who attain such knowledge of God arrive at it only after a great
deal of time. Thirdly, truths of reason are often mixed with falsity, as can
be seen from the many reputed wise men, each ‘teaching his own brand of
doctrine’.29 On account of these limitations, revelation is the best means
of knowing even those truths that are accessible through natural reason.
Aquinas’ severely circumscribed view of the significance of reason was
made to stand on its head by Descartes (1596–1650), the father of mod-
ern philosophy. Faced with the pervasive scepticism of his times and the
enormous confidence that was typical of the Enlightenment, Descartes set
out to question everything until he could find something that is indubi-
table. In other words, everything he learned from his parents and teachers
could have no validity until that was shown to be based on independent
grounds. This scorched earth policy of Descartes had a twofold implica-
tion. Firstly, it implied that revelation, which is the foundation of theol-
ogy, could have no standing until God’s existence is proved. Proving
God’s existence becomes the new game in town. Thus Aquinas’ deficient
means of knowing God now becomes the foundation stone without which
no theology would be possible. Other modern thinkers would follow
Descartes in this matter, with notable exceptions like Blaise Pascal. The
second implication of the Cartesian revolution is that it would undermine
the role of history, whether in the form of oral traditions passed on from
one generation to the next, or in the form of written documents. This fol-
lows from undermining the validity of everything that has been learned
unless it can be independently validated. In sum, modern thinking dif-
fered from Aquinas on the nature, scope, and significance of reason.
The change from the medieval to the modern culture, and its changed
understanding of reason brought about an unprecedented crisis, not only
for Catholics but also for Christian faith itself. Consider the case of Julius
Wellhausen (1844–1918), a Lutheran minister and well-known German
biblical scholar. Given the cultural dominance of science during his time,
he studied the Bible from a scientific point of view but eventually came to
the realization that his life as a scholar was incompatible with his task of
preparing students for ministry. This prompted him to resign from his
29
Aquinas, SCG, I: 4.
14 G. KARUVELIL
teaching post at the University of Greifswald. In a letter of resignation

he wrote:
I became a theologian because I was interested in the scientific treatment of

the Bible; it has only gradually dawned upon me that a professor of theology
likewise has the practical task of preparing students for service in the
Evangelical Church, and that I was not fulfilling this practical task, but
rather, in spite of all reserve on my part, was incapacitating my hearers for
their office.30
Wellhausen was honest enough to resign. This shows that the problem
is not about the morality or the psychology of individuals. The problem
faced by the Church was a deeper, systemic conflict. In the case of
Wellhausen, the conflict is built into the two different ways of understand-
ing ‘biblical theology’.31 One is a normative study of the Bible in accor-
dance with the faith of the Church and the other is a scientific study, which
came to be known as the historical-critical method.
Different churches responded to this unprecedented crisis brought
about by modernity in different ways. Movements arose among the
Protestants to safeguard the normative study of the Bible. J.W. Rogerson
mentions some of the institutional measures taken by the Protestants.
Those measures included the founding of a seminary in 1817 to train
clergy ‘in accordance with traditional beliefs’ and a whole series of com-
mentaries on the Bible to combat its unorthodox interpretations.32
The response of the Catholic Church was equally, if not more, defen-
sive. It felt a ‘grave pastoral urgency’ for protecting the faithful from the
ill-effects of modern thinking.33 This was seen in the Dogmatic Constitution
Dei Filius of Vatican I promulgated in 1870. In 1879 Pope Leo XIII
issued the encyclical AeterniPatris, which sought a revival of the philoso-
phy and theology of Aquinas. The resulting philosophy and theology
came to be called Neo-Thomism, as it was significantly different from the
30
Cited by Philip Kitcher, ‘The Many-Sided Conflict between Science and Religion’, in
William Mann (ed.), The Blackwell Guide to the Philosophy of Religion, Blackwell Philosophy
Guides (Oxford, UK; Malden, MA: Blackwell, 2005), 272.
31
Bernd Janowski, ‘Biblical Theology’, in J. W. Rogerson and Judith Lieu (eds.), The
Oxford Handbook of Biblical Studies (Oxford; New York: Oxford University Press, 2006), 716.
32
J. W. Rogerson, ‘Historical Criticism and the Authority of the Bible’, in Rogerson and
Lieu (eds.), The Oxford Handbook of Biblical Studies, 841.
33
Fergus Kerr, ‘A Different World: Neoscholasticism and Its Discontents’, International
Journal of Systematic Theology 8 (2006), 130.
original Thomism. After AeterniPatris came the encyclical of Pope Pius X

in 1907 that condemned the modernist heresy, culminating in the anti-
modernist oath (1910) which was binding on all seminary professors.
The modernist heresy was really not a single heresy; it was called a ‘syn-
thesis of all heresies’.34 There are three items that stand out. The first
concerned history: historical study of the Bible as well as ‘the heretical
invention of the evolution of dogmas’ or the view that doctrines are influ-
enced by history.35 Another aspect of the modernist heresy concerned reli-
gious experience. This was condemned as it would make ‘every religion,
even that of paganism’ true. ‘For on what ground’ asked the Pope, ‘could
falsity be predicated of any religion, whatsoever?’36 The third error of
modernism concerned reason. Dei Filius was ‘principally about reason’.37
Given that the secular world came to look on Catholics as ‘narrow minded
dogmatists’,38 one might expect that the Church would have condemned
reason. On the contrary, the anti-modernist oath extolled reason; Dei
Filius declared confidently that ‘God … can be known with certitude by
the natural light of human reason’.39 This was contrary to those modern
trends that sought to base theology on faith alone (fideism) or on feeling
and individual experience.40 While extolling reason, the Church con-
demned the ‘erroneous concepts of reason held especially by seminary
professors and suchlike’.41
It might seem strange that erroneous concepts of reason were con-
demned rather than reasoned about. This ‘reason under oath’42 scheme
that sought to enforce Aquinas’ view of reason totally ignored the fact that
the cultural situation to which he responded was entirely different from
modern culture. In this process, reason is no longer a bridge to culture as
in Aquinas, but a shield to protect itself from the onslaught of modern
34
Pope Pius X, Pascendi Domini Gregis, encyclical letter 1907, http://w2.vatican.va/con-
tent/pius-x/en/encyclicals/documents/hf_p-x_enc_19070908_pascendi-dominici-gregis.
html 39.
35
Kerr, ‘A Different World’, 135.
36
Pius X, Pascendi Domini Gregis, 14.
37
38
Gerard Hughes, ‘Do we still need Jesuit Philosophers?’ Jivan, July 2003, 4.
39
Pope Pius IX, Dei Filius1870, https://w2.vatican.va/content/pius-ix/la/documents/
constitutio-dogmatica-dei-filius-24-aprilis-1870.html, 2.
40
Fergus Kerr, Twentieth-Century Catholic Theologians: From Neoscholasticism to Nuptial
Mysticism (Malden, MA: Blackwell, 2007), 2.
41
42
Kerr, Twentieth-Century Catholic Theologians, 1.
16 G. KARUVELIL
culture. In other words, neo-Thomism was basically a holding operation,

literally ‘a course of action designed to maintain status quo under difficult
circumstances’.43 It did not face the real issue concerning the rationality of
faith raised by the modern culture. It failed to notice that centuries before
Dei Filius authoritatively proclaimed the capacity of natural reason to
know God, Meslier had already used it to discredit God’s existence.
2.4 Impact of the Modern View of Reason

In the post-Cartesian culture where establishing the existence of God on
the basis of reason was crucial for the very possibility of theology, Meslier
triggered a trend that would be followed by others. Most notable among
these would be David Hume whose Dialogues Concerning Natural
Religion showed the weakness of the arguments for the existence of God
(especially the argument from design). The trend started by Meslier had
such an impact that two centuries after him, his secret knowledge about
the non-existence of God would become so public that Nietzsche
(1844–1900) would castigate anyone who claimed ignorance of it.
He said:
we must know today that a theologian, a priest, a pope, not merely is wrong
in every sentence he speaks, but lies – that he is no longer at liberty to lie
from ‘innocence,’ or ‘ignorance.’ The priest knows as well as anybody else
that there is no longer any ‘God,’ any ‘sinner,’ any ‘Redeemer’—that ‘free
will,’ and ‘moral world-order’ are lies—seriousness, the profound self-
overcoming of the spirit, no longer permits any one not to know about this.44
Seen from this perspective, Voltaire was not far off the mark in describing
Meslier as ‘the most singular phenomenon ever seen among all the mete-
ors fatal to the Christian religion’.45 Not only had the so-called secret
knowledge of Meslier become public by now, but also this knowledge
(i.e., atheism) came to be seen as a badge of honour. In the words of
Michael Buckley,
43
English Oxford Living Dictionaries, s.v. ‘holding operation’, https://en.oxforddiction-
aries.com
44
Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche, Aaron Ridley, and Judith Norman, The Anti-Christ, Ecce
Homo, Twilight of the Idols, and Other Writings, Cambridge Texts in the History of Philosophy
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005), 38.
45
Ibid.
Within what is now called the modern period … there were men who judged
themselves to be atheists, who called themselves atheists. In the ancient
world, and even more in the medieval world, this was unheard of. ‘Atheist’
had been vituperative and polemic; now it became a signature and a boast…
and [would] increasingly become the mark of an elite.46
Atheism became matter of boast because, when the centrality of reason in

the post-Cartesian world is taken together with its obligatory character
(ignoring the Pascalian caution), atheism was seen as the only rational
option. And this goes to the heart of the modernist crisis. It is at this point
that the Church started its holding operations with its condemnation of
modernism and its promotion of Neo-Thomism, neither of which was
able to counter atheism. Since it was giving a medieval solution to the
modern problem, the failure of Neo-Thomism was written into its DNA.
The modern understanding of history as an unreliable source of truth,
unless it can be shown to be founded on something that is more reliable,
meant that unless historical events can be shown to be based on scientific
facts devoid of human interpretations, history could not be trusted. This
view of history went along with a sharp dichotomizing of facts and values,
value-neutral descriptions and value-laden expressions of preferences, cog-
nitive meaning and non-cognitive meaning, and the like. Truth had to do
with the former of these pairs; the laws of nature discovered by modern
science were supposed to epitomize this kind of value-neutral knowledge.
This view of history and its dichotomizing of facts and values also had its
impact on the modern approach to religion. It led Protestants to look for
the historical Jesus ‘as he really was’47 without the admixture of myth and
later interpretations by the Church. The same quest to escape history
encouraged the emergence of Neo-Scholasticism as an a-historical system
of philosophy and theology. Its 24 theses covering ontology, cosmology,
psychology, and theodicy made an abstract system of thought that its pro-
tagonists thought had timeless validity.48 According to Walter Kasper, ‘the
46
Michael Buckley, At the Origins of Modern Atheism (New Haven, CT: Yale University
Press, 1990), 27
47
Daniel P. Fuller, ‘The Resurrection of Jesus and the Historical Method’, Journal of Bible
and Religion 34 (1966), 18. For a more detailed account of the search for historical Jesus,
see James D. G. Dunn and Scot McKnight, The Historical Jesus in Recent Research, Sources
for Biblical and Theological Study (Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 2005).
48
For the list of the theses, see Kerr, ‘A Different World’, 32–4.
18 G. KARUVELIL
outstanding event in the Catholic theology of our [twentieth] century is

the surmounting of Neo-Scholasticism’.49 This happened with Vatican II.
2.5 Vatican II: Dissolution of Philosophy and Its Aftermath

There are various factors that led to the Second Vatican Council. The most
important was the very nature of Christian faith. From the very beginning,
it was a missionary religion, with a message of salvation meant for all.
Inasmuch as reaching out to those outside its fold was intrinsic to its iden-
tity, the more successful the protective walls of Neo-Scholasticism became,
the less successful the Church was in reaching out to its contemporaries
outside the walls. As early as 1942, Henri de Lubac wrote about the weak-
ening sense of the sacred in France. He traced this phenomenon to the
inadequacy of the heresy obsessed, rationalistic Neo-Scholasticism.50 Thus,
faith that was to be leaven in the dough had lost its leavening quality. If
Christian theology was to carry out its mission in the changed world, it
had to go beyond the neo-scholastic fortress and venture out into the new
world that had emerged, especially in the traditional strongholds of the
Church. Pope John XXIII made this need explicit in the opening address
of to the Second Vatican Council when he said, ‘our duty is not only to
guard this precious treasure, as if we were concerned only with antiquity,
but to dedicate ourselves with an earnest will and without fear to that
work which our era demands of us, pursuing thus the path which the
Church has followed for twenty centuries’.51
Another factor that led to the collapse of the neo-scholastic system was
the realization that the system of Aquinas, far from being the crown of a
timeless achievement, was very much rooted in history. This historical
reading of Aquinas was pioneered by the, then unorthodox, Dominican
Marie-Dominique Chenu (1895–1990).52
Whatever the reasons for discarding the anti-modernist moves, it left
the Church with those very problems which those moves were supposed
to remedy. The condemnation of modernism and the abrupt turn-around
49
Kasper, Theology and Church, 1.
50
John McDade, ‘Epilogue: “Ressourcement” in Retrospect’, in Gabriel Flynn and Paul
D. Murray (eds.), Ressourcement: A Movement for Renewal in Twentieth-Century Catholic
Theology (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012), 511–12.
51
Pope John XXIII, Pope John’s Opening Speech to the Council, http://vatican2voice.
org/91docs/opening_speech.htm
52
Kerr, Twentieth-Century Catholic Theologians, 17–33.
effectively meant accepting the very modern contentions that were con-
demned as heresy earlier. This created an existential crisis in the lives of its
adherents where a sizable number of them, including Jesuit priests, would
be blown away by the strong winds of change.53 The Council was seen as
a ‘new Pentecost’.54 But unlike the first Pentecost where numerous mem-
bers were added to the Church, huge numbers took leave of the Church,
especially in the West. What went wrong?
While historical events are seldom mono-causal, an important reason is
the intellectual vacuum left behind by the Council. A Church that was
used to the great Augustinian, and later, Thomistic syntheses of philoso-
phy and theology, now did not have any philosophy worth the name to
function as the catalyst in relation to culture. This dissolution of philoso-
phy prompted Fides et Ratio, as we have seen. While removing the wrong
(neo-Thomist) solution to the modern crisis, no alternative was put in
place. The Council sought to renew the Church by returning to its sources
(ressourcement), that is, study of Scripture and the Fathers of the Church.
Study of Scripture in itself cannot provide a solution, as we saw in the case
of Wellhausen. Engaging the Fathers meant direct theological engage-
ment with culture, as theology at that time was no different from philoso-
phy. This could not be said of theology in the twentieth century.
In order to see the impact of the direct engagement of theology with
culture in the post-Conciliar period, it suffices to examine the role of his-
tory. Accepting history in a culture that considered any humanly inter-
preted history as an invitation to falsehood merely threw the Church back
to the dilemma faced by Wellhausen. This is illustrated in the publication
of the Myth of God Incarnate (1977), and the attendant controversies.
John Hick (1922–2012), the editor of the book told us:
The main historical thesis of the book – that Jesus himself did not teach that
he was God incarnate and that this momentous idea is a creation of the
church – was of course in no way new. It had long been familiar and accepted
in scholarly Christian circles on both sides of the Atlantic. What was new, in
Britain, was that members of the theological establishment were now saying
53
One example is the reduced number of Jesuits from their peak number of more than
35,000 in 1965 to a little over 18,000 in 2010. See Patrick Howell, ‘The “New” Jesuits, The
Response of the Society of Jesus to Vatican II: Some Alacrity, Some Resistance’ Conversations
in Jesuit Higher Education, 42 (2012), 11.
54
Thomas Hughson, ‘Interpreting Vatican II: A “New Pentecost”’, Theological Studies 69
(2008), 3–37.
20 G. KARUVELIL
it publicly and concluding that the incarnation doctrine, instead of continu-

ing to be regarded as sacrosanct, should be openly reconsidered.55
There are two points to be noted in this passage. The first is that, as far as
historical facts are concerned, the book did not say anything new; it only
made public what was already known in the scholarly circles. According to
Hick, it ‘performed the necessary service of pulling down much of the
curtain between what the scholars knew and what preachers have been
accustomed to tell their congregations’.56 This is the democratization of
the secret knowledge that the modern elites claimed to possess. The sec-
ond point made in the cited passage concerns the significance of historical
findings for the credibility of theological doctrines. Specifically, the impos-
sibility of getting un-interpreted historical facts is said to be fatal for the
doctrine of incarnation. This becomes explicit when Hick goes on to say
that many readers of the Myth were
indignant that the churches had so long encouraged them to go on inno-

cently assuming, for example, that the historical Jesus had said ‘I and the
Father are one’ (John 10.30), ‘He who has seen me has seen the Father’
(John 14.9), rather than revealing the scholarly consensus that a writer some
sixty or more years later, expressing the theology that had developed in his
part of the church, put these famous words into Jesus’ mouth.57
The sharp dichotomy between ‘pure’ facts and values is seen when Hick
concludes that ‘the real point and value of the incarnational doctrine is not
indicative but expressive, not to assert a metaphysical fact but to express a
valuation and evoke an attitude’.58 Hick would make it the mission of his
life to follow up his conclusion about incarnation and extend it to other
Christian doctrines like Trinity and uniqueness of Christ; they were his-
torical accretions that must be discarded. We will see more of this in the
next chapter.
Though Hick was a Presbyterian, he was treated seriously by Catholics,
and for two reasons. First, he had taken the call of Vatican II for
55
John Hick, The Metaphor of God Incarnate: Christology in a Pluralistic Age, 2nd ed.
(Louisville, Ky.: Westminster John Knox Press, 2006), 2.
56
Ibid., 3.
57
Ibid., 2.
58
John Hick, ‘Jesus and the World Religions’, in John Hick (ed.), The Myth of God
Incarnate (London: SCM Press, 1977), 178.
interreligious dialogue earnestly. It is also the case that when the Catholic
Church came to accept the importance of history, it had not yet realized
the peculiar modern understanding of history. It was only with the epoch
making work of Thomas Kuhn (1922–1996) and the coming of the post
moderns that the limits of the modern understanding of history would
come to light.59 Today the use of the historical-critical method in the study
of the Bible is widely recognized as a ‘product of the Enlightenment that
has become as suspect as the Enlightenment project itself’.60 But for the
Catholics of his time, Hick seemed to be merely following the teachings of
Vatican II to its logical conclusion.
The unorthodox nature of Hick’s teaching, however, would not go
unnoticed by those entrusted with the task of maintaining the orthodoxy
of faith. Pope John Paul II published the Catechism of the Catholic Church
in 1992, reaffirming the Catholic teachings. In 1997, the Vatican’s
International Theological Commission accused Hick of relativizing
Christian faith.61 The need to proclaim the Christian truth without falling
prey to ‘different forms of agnosticism and relativism’ was also an impor-
tant motif in Fides et Ratio (5). Then came the declaration Dominus Iesus
from the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith in 2000.62 These
documents are official acknowledgements that about half a century after
Vatican II, the Church had begun to feel the bite of the intellectual vac-
uum left behind by its embrace of the modern world.
The most fundamental problem with these Vatican documents was the
same. They were clear about Christian faith, but utterly lost in responding
to the dramatic changes in the thinking patterns brought about by the
59
Thomas S. Kuhn, The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, 3rd ed. (Chicago: University of
Chicago Press, 1996).
60
Rogerson, ‘Historical Criticism and the Authority of the Bible’, 842.
61
International Theological Commission, Christianity and the World Religions, http://
www.vatican.va/roman_curia/congregations/cfaith/cti_documents/rc_cti_1997_cristiane-
simo-religioni_en.html. Although the document does not mention Hick’s name, Cardinal
Ratzinger, Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of Faith, had criticized Hick by
name the previous year. See http://www.ewtn.com/library/curia/ratzrela.htm. It is likely
that Ratzinger criticized the non-Catholic Hick (very unusual for the Vatican) because of
Hick’s influence on Catholics.
62
Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, Declaration ‘Dominus Iesus’, http://www.
vatican.va/roman_curia/congregations/cfaith/documents/rc_con_cfaith_
doc_20000806_dominus-iesus_en.html
22 G. KARUVELIL
modern, and later, postmodern thinking. This gap between the affirma-
tion of Christian faith and the inability to engage others who think differ-
ently is nothing short of an ‘epistemic arrogance that privileges “our”
faith’.63 This is far from showing the rationality of faith. It is in this context
that the suggestion of the encyclical to take Aquinas as the ‘authentic
model’ must be examined closely. Pope Benedict called him an ‘exemplar’
for the manner in which he placed ‘faith in a positive relation with the
form of reason prevalent in his time’.64
3 Aquinas as ‘Exemplar’

In what sense can this thirteenth-century genius be an exemplar for the
twenty-first century? There are some hints that suggest a return to
Thomism. This suggestion is most clear in the advocacy of metaphysics.65
Not only is metaphysics considered ‘the path to be taken in order to move
beyond the crisis’, but also metaphysics is specified as the ‘first philosophy
[that] deals with being and its attributes, and, in this way, raises itself up
to the knowledge of spiritual realities, seeking the First Cause of all’.66 It
is hard to see how this differs from the Neo-Scholastic metaphysics whose
overcoming was celebrated by Kasper as the outstanding event of the
twentieth century. If the exemplarity of Aquinas means such a return, it
would be turning a blind eye not only to the developments that took place
after him, but also to the very problems that prompted Vatican II. The
failure of Pope Benedict’s attempts to show the rationality of Christian
faith to a secularized Europe vividly illustrates the limits of using the con-
cept of reason borrowed from the past. Is this also the case with the argu-
ments for God’s existence?
3.1 Obligating Reasons?
If reason can be used to argue for God’s existence by Aquinas and to dis-
prove the same by atheists, it clearly does not have the obligatory
63
Terrence W. Tilley, ‘“Christianity and World Religions,” a Recent Vatican Document’,
Theological Studies 60 (1999), 333.
64
Pope Benedict XVI, Christmas Address to the Roman Curia, 22 December 2005,
https://w2.vatican.va/content/benedict-xvi/en/speeches/2005/december/documents/
hf_ben_xvi_spe_20051222_roman-curia.html
65
Decree, no.3.
66
Ibid., no. 4.
character, which was given to it by Aquinas and was routinely taken for
granted in Western philosophy. There are reasons to think that the obliga-
tory character that Aquinas attributed to his theistic arguments is a cul-
tural product.
First of all, Aquinas lived at a time when Aristotle’s philosophy was
coming to prominence, replacing the Platonic outlook.67 Inasmuch as the
Aristotelian outlook was dominant at that time, and some of the argu-
ments that Aquinas provided for God’s existence belonged to that out-
look, it was not difficult to accept those arguments.68 Contrast this with
the contemporary world where Hume’s critique of religion damaged the
credibility of ‘religion in ways that have no philosophical antecedents and
few successors’.69
Secondly, Aquinas lived in a world that was theist, and dominantly
Christian. In that world, he had to look into the Scriptures (revelation)
even to say that atheism was possible.70 Contrast this with the modern
world where atheism became a ‘signature and a boast’! If the theistic cul-
ture of Aquinas gave his arguments their seeming obligatory character, the
secularism, if not the atheism, of modern culture takes away their compel-
ling character; they only evoke the contempt of real atheists, as Pascal
realized.
Thirdly, there is the modern shift from metaphysics to epistemology
that has already been mentioned. When Plato’s philosophy was slowly
being replaced by Aristotle’s philosophy, Aquinas saw that Christian faith
could very well be crafted on to the Aristotelian outlook.71 But in spite of
important differences between Plato and Aristotle, both were metaphysi-
cal in their outlook. The modern outlook, on the other hand, is a revolt
not only against Aristotle,72 but also against the classical metaphysical
67
Anthony Kenny, Medieval Philosophy, New History of Western Philosophy, vol. 2
(Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2005), 54–74.
68
That all of Aquinas’ arguments do not originate in Aristotle does not invalidate this point.
69
J. C. A. Gaskin, ‘Hume on Religion’, in David Fate Norton and Jacqueline Anne Taylor
(eds.), The Cambridge Companion to Hume (Cambridge; New York: Cambridge University
Press, 2009), 480.
70
See Aquinas, ST I, q 2, a 1where he quotes Ps. 52:1 about the ‘fool’ who said in his
heart, There is no God.
71
John F. Wippel, Mediaeval Reactions to the Encounter Between Faith and Reason, The
Aquinas Lecture 1995 (Milwaukee: Marquette University Press, 1995), 8–34.
72
Anthony Kenny, The Rise of Modern Philosophy, New History of Western Philosophy, vol.
3 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2006), 68.
24 G. KARUVELIL
tradition. In the new culture, metaphysics can enter the arena only through
the epistemological route.
Fourthly, the arguments of natural theology, which had a very limited
role in Aquinas, began to occupy a pivotal place after the Cartesian revolu-
tion. As Peter Byrne has observed, ‘natural theology’ in Hume and other
modern thinkers enjoys an independence from ‘revealed theology’ that
cannot be found in Aquinas.73 With the epistemological turn of modern
philosophy the very possibility of revealed theology hung on the single
thread of being able to prove God’s existence. Snap that thread and the
whole basis of Christian theology (faith in a revealing God and his revealed
truths) would come crashing down. It is little wonder, then, that, faced
with the threat of modern atheism, theologians busied themselves with
safeguarding this single thread by finding newer and newer philosophical
arguments to prove the existence of God, though without success.74
All of this indicates that the seemingly obligatory nature of Aquinas’
arguments for God’s existence arose from the particular cultural setting of
his time; what Aquinas considered ‘natural reason’ turns out to be really
not natural but cultural. Therefore, if Aquinas is to be considered an
exemplar for our times, this exemplarity must be understood differently. It
will consist more in what he did than what he taught.
What Aquinas did was to align Christian faith with the culture of his
times. He did it by creating the ‘office of the wise’ (officiumsapientis).
RuiTeVelde tells us that what Aquinas created was something new, as it
differed from philosophy as well as theology. Aquinas responded to
thirteenth-century challenges to the truth of Christian beliefs. His task
was to analyse how reason came under the sway of erroneous convictions,
so that those convictions can be ‘set aside as unjustified and untrue’.75
Having met objections to Christian faith, he could proceed to consider the
truth of Christian faith. The guiding principle of ‘the office of the wise’
was the conviction that there is objective truth and that error has to give
way to truth.
73
Peter Byrne, Natural Religion and the Nature of Religion: The Legacy of Deism (London:
Routledge, 1989), 2–3.
74
See, Buckley, At the Origins of Modern Atheism, 48–55.Although Buckley is right in
making this observation, he fails to recognize that given their scholastic background and the
pressure of modernity, they could not have done otherwise.
75
Velde, ‘Natural Reason in the Summa Contra Gentiles’, 50.
3.2 Exercising Officium Sapientis Today

Aquinas can be considered an exemplar for our times, because our times
are similar to his, except that the issues are even more complex than in the
thirteenth century. Philosophy was no longer considered a spiritual pur-
suit in his times; nor is it today. Secondly, if Aristotelian philosophy was
dissonant with Christian faith, because of which he had to build a bridge
to it, today’s secular world is even more so. The time of Aquinas was reli-
giously theistic and philosophically metaphysical. In contrast, the moderns
considered atheism a matter of boast and have practically outlawed the
kind of metaphysics done by the scholastics.76 It is with such a radically
dissonant culture that Christian faith needs to build bridges today. Thirdly,
the epistemological turn of modern philosophy retained Plato’s attempt to
carve nature at its joints.77 His idea of a world with pre-fixed contours
continued through Aristotle and the medieval thinkers into the Newtonian
mechanics of the modern world, except that the structure to be discovered
belonged to the empirical world (from Aristotle) and it was the task of
science to discover this structure. But with the arrival of the post moderns,
the idea of a readymade world has become questionable. This, however,
rather than prompting a pluralistic epistemology, has led many philoso-
phers to write premature obituaries of epistemology.78
For the post-Conciliar Church that was still struggling to cope with
modernity, the postmodern turn was bewildering. While many were not
happy with the ‘anything goes’ ideology of the postmodern world,79 the
turn has given a sense of relief to many, especially to many passionately
religious men and women who felt constrained by monolithic
76
For differences between the scholastic and modern ways of understanding metaphysics,
see Jorge Secada, Cartesian Metaphysics: The Late Scholastic Origins of Modern Philosophy
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000).
77
See Joseph Keim Campbell, Michael O’Rourke, and Matthew H. Slater (eds.), Carving
Nature at Its Joints: Natural Kinds in Metaphysics and Science, Topics in Contemporary
Philosophy (Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press, 2011).
78
Susan Haack, ‘Recent Obituaries of Epistemology’, American Philosophical Quarterly 27
(1990), 199–212.
79
Paul Boghossian has called it as the ‘doctrine of equal validity’. Paul A. Boghossian, Fear
of Knowledge: Against Relativism and Constructivism (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2006).
Cardinal Ratzinger, soon to become Pope Benedict, had called it the ‘dictatorship of relativ-
ism’. See his ‘Homily at the Mass for the Election of the Roman Pontiff’, in Thornton and
Varenne Essential Pope Benedict XVI, 22.
26 G. KARUVELIL
modernity.80 But it has also created a world where ‘the most divergent
systems of thought coexist with none of them managing to dominate the
others’.81 It is a world of diverse religious faiths and ideological outlooks,
the world of passionate believers and ardent non-believers, of militant
atheists and violent religious fanatics, each claiming their own internal
rationality. It is the neglect of this diversity that nullified Pope Benedict’s
efforts to show the rationality of Christian faith to a secular Europe.
One thing is clear: in the face of this multi-faceted dissonance between
contemporary culture and Christian faith, theology cannot directly engage
culture as in the initial period. Rather, it calls for a bridge between faith
and culture, as Aquinas did. This calls for nothing short of a fresh exercise
of the officiumsapientis. Exercising the office of the wise in a radically plu-
ralist situation, with each group making its own claim to reason, calls for
reasoning about reason before we may turn to the rationality of religious
faith. Fortunately, the search for truth—the guiding principle of the offi-
cium—is still valued in philosophy, in spite of some contrary voices. I will
use the same principle for bridging the gap between faith and contempo-
rary culture.
3.3 Faith and Reason in Non-Roman Catholic

Christian Traditions
So far I have presented the matter of relating faith and reason from a
Roman Catholic perspective. But the concern about the rationality of faith
is not a Catholic monopoly. As a matter of fact even before the Catholics
began responding to modernity by building the neo-scholastic shield,
Protestant theologian Friedrich Schleiermacher (1768–1834) had sought
to show the rationality of Christian faith to his unbelieving contempo-
raries. Notable contributions have also come from prominent Lutheran
theologians, such as Gerhard Ebeling (1912–2001), Wilfried Joest
(1914–95), Wolfhart Pannenberg (1928–2014), and, most recently, from
Ingolf Dalferth (b. 1948). The contributions of such non-Roman
Catholics as William Alston (1921–2009), Alvin Plantinga (b. 1932),
80
This sense of relief is seen in the writings of John Caputo: for example, John D. Caputo,
‘Philosophy and Prophetic Postmodernism: Toward a Catholic Postmodernity’, American
Catholic Philosophical Quarterly LXXXIV (2000), 549–67.
81
René Latourelle, ‘Introduction to the English Language Edition’, in René Latourelle
and Rino Fisichella (eds.), Dictionary of Fundamental Theology (New York: Crossroad,
1994), xiii.
David Brown (b. 1948) and Richard Swinburne (b. 1934) are also
significant.
On the other hand, in the light of what is said about pre-Thomistic
theology engaging culture directly and Thomistic theology engaging it
only through the mediation of a philosophical bridge between faith and
culture, it might be said that there must be a distinction between those
who take Aquinas as an exemplar for relating faith and reason and those
Protestants who rely on pre-Thomistic Augustinian system for this pur-
pose. Such difference is clear in the work of Plantinga. But this cannot be
said about Pannenberg who has convincingly shown that a philosophical
bridge to culture was present from the beginning when the early Fathers
engaged their faith with Greek culture. He discerns this bridge in the puri-
fied concept of God that emerged with the Stoics. This helped the Fathers
to present the God of Israel as one that corresponds to that idea of God.82
But a question that could be raised is the same that was raised about Pope
Benedict earlier: is the Stoic idea of God a necessary or even a viable bridge
between our contemporary world and Christian faith? It was right for the
Fathers to use the Stoic idea of one God in the context of the many kinds
of gods that populated ancient Greece. But how appropriate is it for our
contemporary world that is characterized not only by many religions but
also by vibrant secularism and atheism? Can a direct appeal to the Stoic
idea be relevant to that context? Shouldn’t we in the twenty-first century
be attempting to build a new bridge to contemporary culture using the
resources that are available today? This book is such an attempt. In that
process I will use any resource that is available in our culture irrespective
of whether it comes from believers of unbelievers, Protestants or Catholics.
Accordingly, although I address myself primarily to teachers and students
of theology and religious studies, it is addressed as much also to any reader
who might be interested in the rationality of religious faith.
An important resource I would be using for building a bridge to con-
temporary culture is the study of religious experience, especially mysti-
cism. We noted the priority accorded to sensory knowledge from the time
of Aristotle and carried through the Scholastics into the modern empiricist
tradition. This meant that any religious or mystical insights had to be fit-
ted into the empirical. Schleiermacher tried to get out of this predicament
by establishing the credibility of faith on the basis of religious experience.
82
Wolfhart Pannenberg, Systematic Theology, 3 vols., vol. 1 (London; New York: T & T
Clark International, 2004), 76–80.
28 G. KARUVELIL
But this alternative route has been problematic from the beginning, even
if often ignored. It was hardly ever thought that the real problem might lie
not so much with religious experience as with the truncated understand-
ing of experience that prevailed from the time of Aristotle to the modern
age. As a result, natural knowledge came to be reduced to knowledge of
nature and its derivatives. Plato, in contrast, had maintained a way of
knowing that was utterly independent of the senses.83 When Aquinas bor-
rowed the Aristotelian framework, he did not face any major difficulty for
religious knowledge, because sense experience was supplemented by rev-
elation as the more effective source of religious knowledge. When modern
philosophy brought the idea of revelation under a cloud of suspicion,
sense experience remained the sole source. Friedrich Schleiermacher’s
attempt to introduce religious experience, therefore, must be seen as an
attempt to bring back a long neglected source of human knowledge. With
the weakening of modern epistemology, a forceful affirmation of the
autonomy of religious knowledge has come from some Wittgensteinian
philosophers and the Reformed epistemologists. Therefore, bridging the
chasm between Christian faith and contemporary culture calls not only for
reasoning about reason but also for using the resources of religious experi-
ence to explicate the most fundamental tenets of Christian faith. Such is
the task I undertake in this book.
4 The Structure and the Argument of the Book

As is appropriate for a book on faith and reason, there are two running
themes in the book. One is epistemology (reason) and the other is religion
(faith). And both are sought to be placed in the background of shifting
cultural soil. Epistemology forms the core of this book, both in reasoning
about reason, and in reasoning about faith in terms of religious experi-
ence. Going by the frequent use of words ‘epistemology’ or ‘theory of
knowledge’ in the contemporary world, one would not suspect that the
boundaries of this discipline remain ‘fuzzy and controversial’.84 No matter
how fuzzy, epistemology has been at the centre of the debunking of
83
For a discussion of this kind of knowledge that Plato called anamnesis or recollection, see
Gail Fine, Plato on Knowledge and Forms: Selected Essays (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2003),
54–57. Plato’s discussion of the knowledge of virtues implies an entirely different kind of
knowledge than the knowledge of nature.
84
William P. Alston, Beyond “Justification”: Dimensions of Epistemic Evaluation (Ithaca,
NY: Cornell University Press, 2005), 5.
religious knowledge. In much of that debunking, ‘epistemology’ has been

used for a validation of truth claims that is more commonly called ‘justifi-
cation’ of beliefs.85 Justification, in turn, is closely related to the method
of validation on the one hand, and the basis or the ground of validation,
on the other. Method, in the English-speaking philosophy of the twenti-
eth century, has mostly meant scientific method, which was considered
impersonal and objective, and the basis of validation has been sense experi-
ence. What has come to be called ‘continental epistemology’,86 on the
other hand, did not make ‘justification’ central to its concern, and explored
other, more subject-centred methods like hermeneutics (which focuses on
interpretation and understanding) and phenomenology (which focuses on
describing the contents of consciousness). The epistemology explored in
this book will incorporate all the three dimensions—justification, method,
and hermeneutics—in an integral fashion.
The need to reason about reason before reasoning about faith should
lead to a division of this book into two parts. For practical reasons, how-
ever, it is divided into three parts. Alternatively, the first two parts could
be considered as two units of ‘Reasoning about Reason’. The first unit (or
Part I of the book) explores the sustained attempts to apply an epistemol-
ogy, arising from a certain understanding of science, to religion and theol-
ogy. We have already had brief glimpses of such attempts in the cases of
Wellhausen and Hick. Part I will provide a more detailed critique. Although
the inadequacy of that approach to knowledge has been recognized, a
viable alternative is yet to emerge. The second unit of ‘Reasoning about
Reason’ (Part II of the book) explores an alternative epistemology. It
begins with the concrete existential situation of the knower, and reasoning
from an existential location proposes using diverse kinds of reason in an
integral fashion. Therefore, this part is named ‘Existential Reasons’ in the
plural. Its subtitle, ‘Conviction, Communication, and Truth’ expresses the
three major concerns that it deals with. Varied convictions that people live
by and from which they draw their energies, the need to communicate
those convictions to others who may or may not share them, and doing so
85
Justification is considered so central to epistemology that the entry on the history of
epistemology in the Routledge Encyclopedia of Philosophy is centred on justification. See
George Pappas, ‘Epistemology, History of, in Edward Craig’, The Shorter Routledge
Encyclopedia of Philosophy (London; New York: Routledge, 2005), 227–37.
86
Linda Alcoff, ‘Continental Epistemology’, in Jonathan Dancy, Ernest Sosa, and Matthias
Steup (eds.), A Companion to Epistemology, 2nd ed., Blackwell Companions to Philosophy
(Chichester, West Sussex, U.K.; Malden, MA: Wiley-Blackwell, 2010), 287–92.
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The eggs of some insects are fairly transparent, and the process of
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microscope-slides. These eggs are about a millimetre long, somewhat
more than half that width, are very flat, and the egg-shell or chorion is
very thin and perfectly transparent. When first laid the contents of this egg
appear nearly homogeneous and evenly distributed, a finely granular
appearance being presented throughout; but in twenty-four hours a great
change is found to have taken place. The whole superficial contents of
the egg are at that time arranged in groups, having the appearance of
separate rounded or oval masses, pressed together so as to destroy
much of their globular symmetry. The egg contents are also divided into
very distinct forms, a granular matter, and a large number of transparent
globules, these latter being the fatty portion of the yolk; these are present
everywhere, though in the centre there is a space where they are very
scanty, and they also do not extend quite to the circumference. But the
most remarkable change that has taken place is the appearance in the
middle of the field of an area different from the rest in several particulars;
it occupies about one-third of the width and one-third of the length; it has
a whiter and more opaque appearance, and the fat globules in it are
fewer in number and more indistinct. This area is afterwards seen to be
occupied by the developing embryo, the outlines of which become
gradually more distinct. Fig. 83 gives an idea of the appearance of the
egg about the middle period of the development. In warm weather the
larva emerges from this egg ten or eleven days after it has been
deposited.
Fig. 83.—A, Egg of Limacodes testudo about the middle of the development
of the embryo; B, micropyles and surrounding sculpture of chorion.
The period occupied by the development of the embryo is very different in

the various kinds of Insects; the blowfly embryo is fully developed in less
than twenty-four hours, while in some of the Orthoptera the embryonic
stage may be prolonged through several months. According to
Woodworth the blastoderm in Vanessa antiopa is complete in twenty-four
hours after the deposition of the egg, and the involution of the ventral
plate is accomplished within three days of deposition.
Metamorphosis.
The ontogeny, or life history of the individual, of Insects is peculiar,

inasmuch as a very large part of the development takes place only late in
life and after growth has been completed. Insects leave the egg in a
certain form, and in that condition they continue—with, however, a greater
or less amount of change according to kind—till growth is completed,
when, in many cases, a very great change of form takes place. Post-
embryonic development, or change of form of this kind, is called
metamorphosis. It is not a phenomenon peculiar to Insects, but exists to a
greater or less extent in other groups of the Metazoa; while simpler post-
embryonic development occurs in nearly all, as in scarcely any complex
animals are all the organs completely formed at the time the individual
becomes possessed of a separate existence. In many animals other than
Insects the post-embryonic development assumes most remarkable and
complex forms, though there are perhaps none in which the phenomenon
is very similar to the metamorphosis of Insects. The essential features of
metamorphosis, as exhibited in the great class we are writing of, appear
to be the separation in time of growth and development, and the limitation
of the reproductive processes to a short period at the end of the individual
life. The peculiar phenomena of the post-embryonic development of the
white ants show that there exists some remarkable correlation between
the condition of the reproductive organs and the development of the other
parts of the organisation. If we take it that the post-embryonic
physiological processes of any individual Insect are of three kinds,—
growth, development, and reproduction,—then we may say that in the
higher Insects these three processes are almost completely separated,
and go on consecutively, the order being,—first, growth; second,
development; third, reproduction. While, if we complete the view by
including the processes comprised in the formation of the egg and the
development therein, the series will be—(1) oogenesis, or egg-growth; (2)
development (embryonic); (3) growth (post-embryonic); (4) development
(post-embryonic); (5) reproduction.
The metamorphosis of Insects is one of the most interesting parts of

entomology. It is, however, as yet very little known from a scientific point
of view, although the simpler of its external characters have for many
ages past attracted the attention and elicited the admiration of lovers of
nature. It may seem incorrect to say that little is yet known scientifically of
a phenomenon concerning which references almost innumerable are to
be found in literature: nevertheless the observations that have been made
as to metamorphosis, and the analysis that has been commenced of the
facts are at present little more than sufficient to show us how vast and
complex is the subject, and how great are the difficulties it presents.
There are three great fields of inquiry in regard to metamorphosis, viz. (1)
the external form at the different stages; (2) the internal organs and their
changes; (3) the physiological processes. Of these only the first has yet
received any extensive attention, though it is the third that precedes or
underlies the other two, and is the most important. We will say a few
words about each of these departments of the inquiry. Taking first the
external form—the instar. But before turning to this we must point out that
in limiting the inquiry to the post-embryonic development, we are making
one of those limitations that give rise to much misconception, though they
are necessary for the acquisition of knowledge as to any complex set of
phenomena. If we assume five well-marked stages as constituting the life
of an Insect with extreme metamorphosis, viz. (1) the formation and
growth of the egg; (2) the changes in the egg culminating in its hatching
after fertilisation; (3) the period of growth; (4) the pupal changes; (5) the
life of the perfect Insect; and if we limit our inquiry about development to
the latter three, we are then shutting out of view a great preliminary
question, viz. whether some Insects leave the egg in a different stage of
development to others, and we are consequently exposing ourselves to
the risk of forgetting that some of the distinctions we observe in the
subsequent metamorphosis may be consequential on differences in the
embryonic development.
Instar and Stadium.
Figs. 84 and 85 represent corresponding stages in the life of two different

Insects, Fig. 84 showing a locust (Acridium), and Fig. 85 a white butterfly.
In each A represents the newly-hatched individual; B, the insect just
before its perfect state; C, the perfect or imago stage. On comparing the
two sets of figures we see that the C stages correspond pretty well as
regards the most important features (the position of the wings being
unimportant), that the A stages are moderately different, while the B
states are not to be recognised as equivalent conditions.
Fig. 84.—Locust (Acridium peregrinum): A, newly hatched; B, just

antecedent to last ecdysis; C, perfect Insect.
Fig. 85.—Butterfly (Pieris): A, the newly hatched young, or larva magnified;

B, pupa (natural size) just antecedent to last ecdysis; C, perfect Insect.
Every Insect after leaving the egg undergoes during the process of
growth castings of the skin, each of which is called a moult or ecdysis.
Taking for our present purpose five as the number of ecdyses undergone
by both the locust and butterfly, we may express the differences in the
successions of change we portray in Figs. 84 and 85 by saying that
previous to the first ecdysis the two Insects are moderately dissimilar, that
the locust undergoes a moderate change before reaching the fifth
ecdysis, and undergoes another moderate change at this moult, thus
reaching its perfect condition by a slight, rather gradual series of
alterations of form. On the other hand, the butterfly undergoes but little
modification, remaining much in the condition shown by A, Fig. 85, till the
fourth, or penultimate, ecdysis, but then suffers a complete change of
form and condition, which apparently is only inferior to another
astonishing change that takes place at the fifth or final moult. The chief,
though by no means the only, difference between the two series consists
in the fact that the butterfly has interposed between the penultimate and
the final ecdyses a completely quiescent helpless condition, in which it is
deprived of external organs of sense, locomotion, and nutrition; while in
the locust there is no loss of these organs, and such quiescent period as
exists is confined to a short period just at the fifth ecdysis. The changes
exhibited by the butterfly are called "complete metamorphosis," while this
phenomenon in the locust is said to be "incomplete." The Insect with
complete metamorphosis is in its early stage called a larva, and in the
quiescent state a pupa. The adult state in both butterfly and locust is
known as imago or perfect Insect.
The most conspicuous of the differences between Insects with complete

and those with incomplete metamorphosis is, as we have remarked, the
existence in the former of a pupa. The pupal state is by no means similar
in all the Insects that possess it. The most anomalous conditions in
regard to it occur in the Order Neuroptera. In some members of that
Order—the Caddis-flies for instance—the pupa is at first quiescent, but
becomes active before the last ecdysis; while in another division—the
May-flies—the last ecdysis is not preceded by a formed pupa, nor is there
even a distinct pupal period, but the penultimate ecdysis is accompanied
by a change of form to the winged condition, the final ecdysis being
merely a casting of the skin after the winged state has been assumed. In
the Odonata or Dragon-flies there is no pupal stage, but the change of
form occurring at the last ecdysis is very great. In those Insects where the
interval between the last two moults is not accompanied by the creature's
passing into a definite, quiescent pupa, the individual is frequently called
then a nymph; but the term nymph has merely a distinctive meaning, and
is not capable of accurate definition, owing to the variety of different
conditions covered by the word. Eaton, in describing this term as it is
used for Ephemeridae, says, "Nymphs are young which lead an active
life, quitting the egg at a tolerably advanced stage of morphological
development, and having the mouth-parts formed after the same main
type of construction as those of the adult insect."[80]
The intervals between the ecdyses are called stadia, the first stadium
being the period between hatching and the first ecdysis. Unfortunately no
term is in general use to express the form of the Insect at the various
stadia; entomologists say, "the form assumed at the first moult," and so
on. To avoid this circumlocution it may be well to adopt a term suggested
by Fischer,[81] and call the Insect as it appears at hatching the first instar,
what it is as it emerges from the first ecdysis the second instar, and so on;
in that case the pupa of a Lepidopteron that assumed that condition at the
fifth ecdysis would be the sixth instar, and the butterfly itself would be the
seventh instar.
Various terms are used to express the differences that exist in the
metamorphoses of Insects, and as these terms refer chiefly to the
changes in the outer form, we will here mention them. As already stated,
the locust is, in our own language, said to have an incomplete
metamorphosis, the butterfly a complete one. The term Holometabola has
been proposed for Insects with complete metamorphosis, while the
appellations Ametabola, Hemimetabola, Heterometabola, and
Paurometabola have been invented for the various forms of incomplete,
or rather less complex, metamorphosis. Some writers use the term
Ametabola for Insects that are supposed to exhibit no change of external
form after quitting the egg, the contrasted series of all other Insects being
then called Metabola. Westwood and others use the word Homomorpha
for Insects in which the condition on hatching more or less resembles that
attained at the close of the development, and Heteromorpha for those in
which the form on emergence from the egg differs much from what it
ultimately becomes.
Hypermetamorphosis.
There are certain unusual changes to which the term

hypermetamorphosis has been applied; these we can here only briefly
allude to.
Insects that have complete metamorphoses, and are not supplied with
food by their parents or guardians, are provided during their larval life with
special modifications of extremely various kinds to fit them for the period
of life during which they are obtaining food and growing. Thus caterpillars
possess numerous adaptations to fit them for the period during which
they live on leaves, while maggots have modifications enabling them to
live amongst decomposing flesh. Some larvae are greatly modified in this
adaptive way, and when the adaptations change greatly during the life of
the larva, hypermetamorphosis is said to exist. As an instance we may
mention some beetle larvae that are born with legs by whose aid they can
cling to a bee, and so get carried to its nest, where they will in future live
on the stores of food the bee provides for its own young. In order that
they may be accommodated to their totally different second
circumstances, they change their first form, losing their legs, and
becoming almost bladder-like creatures, fitted for floating on the honey
without being injured by it. Such an occurrence has been described by
Fabre[82] in the case of Sitaris humeralis, and his figures have been
reproduced in Sir John Lubbock's book on the metamorphoses of Insects,
[83] as well as in other works, yet they are of so much interest that we give
them again, especially as the subject is still only in its infancy; we at
present see no sufficient reason for the later of these larval states. Little
is, we believe, known as to the internal anatomy of the various instars in
these curious cases.
Fig. 86.—Preparatory stages of Sitaris humeralis: 9, 10, 11, 12, first,

second, third, and fourth larval instars; 13, pupa. (After Lubbock and
Fabre.)
There are certain minute Hymenoptera that deposit their eggs inside the
eggs of other Insects, where the beings hatched from the parasitic eggs
subsequently undergo their development and growth, finding their
sustenance in the yolk or embryo contained in the host-egg. It is evident
that such a life is very anomalous as regards both food and the conditions
for respiration, and we consequently find that these tiny egg-parasites go
through a series of changes of form of a most remarkable character.[84] It
would appear that in these cases the embryonic and post-embryonic
developments are not separated in the same way as they are in other
Insects. We are not aware that any term has yet been proposed for this
very curious kind of Insect development, which, as pointed out by Brauer,
[85] is doubtless of a different nature from the hypermetamorphosis of
Sitaris.
Changes in Internal Organs.
In relation to the post-embryonic development of the internal organs of

the body there is but little exact generalisation to be made, the anatomical
condition of these organs at the time of emergence from the egg having
been ascertained in but few Insects. We know that in Holometabolous
Insects the internal anatomy differs profoundly in the larval and imaginal
instars. As to Insects with more imperfect metamorphosis very little
information exists, but it appears probable that in many no extensive
distinctions exist between the newly-hatched and the adult forms, except
in the condition of the reproductive organs. Differences of minor
importance doubtless exist, but there is almost no information as to their
extent, or as to the periods at which the changes occur; so that we do not
know to what extent they may be concentrated at the final ecdysis. In
Insects with perfect metamorphosis the structures of the internal organs
are, as we have said, in many cases totally different in the larval and
imaginal periods of the life; but these changes are far from being uniform
in all Holometabola. The nervous system in some cases undergoes a
great concentration of the ganglia, in others does not, and important
distinctions exist in this respect even within the limits of a single Order,
such as the Coleoptera. Some Insects take the same kind of food
throughout their lives, but many others change totally in this respect, and
their organs for the prehension and digestion of food undergo a
corresponding change. Butterflies suck food in the form of liquid juices
from flowers by means of a delicate and long proboscis, while the young
butterfly—the caterpillar—disdains sweets, and consumes, by the
assistance of powerful mandibles, a great bulk of leaves. Other
Holometabola undergo no such total change of habits; the tiger-beetle, for
instance, is as ferocious a consumer of the juices of Insects in its young
stage as it is in the adult condition. Hence Brauer[86] divides Insects, as
regards this point, into three categories. The forms in which both the
young and adult take food by suction he calls Menorhyncha; those in
which both the imago and immature forms feed by mandibles he calls
Menognatha; while his Metagnatha consists of those insects that take
food by jaws when young, but by suction with tubular mouths when
mature. Besides these main divisions there are some exceptional cases
to which we need not here allude, our present object being to indicate that
in the Metagnatha the digestive organs are of a very different nature in
the young and in the adult states of existence.
The internal organs for the continuance of the species are known to be
present in a rudimentary stage in the embryo, and it is a rule that they do
not attain their full development until growth has been completed; to this
rule there may possibly be an exception in the case of the Aptera. But
little information of a comparative character exists as to the dorsal vessel
and the changes it undergoes during metamorphosis. There is
considerable difficulty in connexion with the examination of this structure,
but it appears probable that it is one of the organs that changes the least
during the process of metamorphosis.
The exact nature of the internal changes that occur during

metamorphosis is almost a modern subject. It is of course a matter of
great difficulty to observe and record changes that go on in the interior of
such small creatures as Insects, and when the phenomena occur with
great rapidity, as is frequently the case in Insect metamorphosis, the
difficulty is much increased. Nevertheless the subject is of such great
interest that it has been investigated with a skill and perseverance that
call for the highest admiration. The greater part of the information
obtained refers to a single Insect, the blowfly; and amongst those who
have made important contributions to it we may mention Weismann,[87]
Viallanes,[88] Ganin,[89] and Van Rees,[90] and it is at present under
investigation by Lowne. A good deal, too, is becoming known about the
processes in the case of the silkworm.
Integument and Ecdysis.

The integument consists of a cellular layer, usually called the hypodermis,
situated on a basement membrane. The hypodermis, or layer of
chitinogenous cells, excretes a matter which remains attached to the
body, forming the hard outer layer of the skin. This layer consists of chitin
and has no vitality, but its presence no doubt exerts a very important
influence on the physiological processes of the Insect. The chitinous
investment varies much in thickness and in other properties; in some
Insects it is hard, even glassy, so as to be difficult to pierce with a pin, in
others it is pliable, and in some very delicate. Chitin is a substance very
difficult to investigate; according to the recent researches of Krawkow[91]
it may prove to be of somewhat variable chemical composition.
After a time the hypodermis excretes a fresh supply of chitin, and,

possibly by the commencement of this process, the older chitinous
investment becomes separated and is shed. The details have, however,
not been ascertained, though their importance has been suggested by
Hatchett Jackson.[92] The newly exposed layer of integument is pallid, but
afterwards becomes coloured in a manner varying according to the
species, the process being possibly due to some secondary exudation
permeating the freshly exposed chitin, or modifying some part of its
exterior.
Lowne informs us that in the imago of the blowfly the great majority of the
hypodermic cells themselves enter into the composition of the chitinous
integument; and it is perhaps not a matter for surprise that the cells
should die on the completion of their functional activity, and should form a
part of the chitinous investment. Some writers say that the chitinous layer
may be shown to be covered by a delicate extima or outer coat.
The number of ecdyses varies greatly in Insects, but has been definitely
ascertained in only a few forms outside the Order Lepidoptera. In
Campodea Grassi says there is a single fragmentary moult, and in many
Hymenoptera the skin that is cast is extremely delicate, and the process
perhaps only occurs twice or three times previous to the pupal stage. In
most Insects, however, ecdysis is a much more important affair, and the
whole of the chitinous integument is cast off entire, even the linings of the
tracheae, and of the alimentary canal and its adjuncts being parted with.
Sir John Lubbock observed twenty-three moults in a May-fly of the genus
Cloëon,[93] this being the maximum yet recorded, though Sommer
states[94] that in Macrotoma plumbea moulting goes on as long as life
lasts, even after the Insect has attained its full size.
Some Insects get quit of a considerable quantity of matter by their

ecdyses, while in others the amount is comparatively slight. It has been
thought that the moulting is effected in order to permit of increase of size
of the Insect, but there are facts which point to the conclusion that this is
only a factor of secondary importance in the matter. One of these is that
many Insects make their first ecdysis almost immediately after they leave
the egg; this is the case with the young larva of the blowfly, which,
according to Lowne, moults within two hours of its emergence from the
egg. We have already referred to the important suggestion made by
Eisig[95] that, since chitin is a nitrogenous substance, the ecdyses may be
a means of getting rid of waste nitrogenous matter; to which we have
added that as chitin also consists largely of carbon, its excretion may be
of importance in separating carbonaceous products from the blood.
Metamorphosis of Blowfly.
The phenomena of metamorphosis are displayed to their greatest extent

in the transformations and physiological processes of the Muscid Diptera,
of which the common blowfly is an example. We will briefly consider the
information that has been obtained on this subject.
The development of the embryo in the egg of the blowfly is unusually

rapid, occupying only a period of twenty to twenty-four hours. After its first
moult the blowfly larva grows rapidly during a period of about ten to
fourteen days, during which it undergoes moults, the number of which
appears not to be definitely ascertained. After becoming full-fed the larva
loses its active state, and passes for a period into a condition of
comparative quiescence, being spoken of in this state as a resting larva.
This quiet period occurs in most full-grown larvae, and is remarkable for
the great variation that may occur in its duration, it being in many Insects
subject to prolongation for months, in some cases possibly even for
years, though in favourable circumstances it may be very short. Lowne
informs us that in the blowfly this period of the life is occupied by very
great changes in the internal organs, which are undergoing very
extensive processes of destruction and rebuilding. After some days the
outer skin of the resting larva shrivels, and is detached from the internal
living substances, round which it hardens and forms the sort of cocoon or
capsule that is so well known. This using of the cast larval skin as a
cocoon is, however, limited to certain of the two-winged flies, and perhaps
a few other Insects, and so must be considered an exceptional condition.
The capsule conceals from view a most remarkable state, known to the
old naturalist Réaumur as the "spheroidal condition," but called by more
recent writers the pronymph. The pronymphal state may be looked on as
being to a great extent a return of the animal to the condition of an egg,
the creature becoming an accumulation of soft creamy matter enclosed in
a delicate skin. This spheroidal condition, however, really begins in the
resting larva, and Van Rees and others think that the delicate membrane
enclosing the substance of the pronymph is really the hypodermis of the
integument of the larva. Although this seems probable, from the
resemblance this condition would in that case present to the phenomena
usual in ecdysis, it is not generally admitted, and there is much difficulty in
settling the point. Lowne is of a contrary opinion, looking on the limiting
membrane as a subsequent formation; he calls it the paraderm. The
process of forming the various organs goes on in the pronymph, till the
"nymph" has completed its development, the creature having then again
taken on a definite form which apparently corresponds to the pupa of
Hymenoptera. Great doubt, however, exists as to this equivalence, and
indeed as to any exact correspondence between the metamorphic stadia
of different Insects, a view which long since was expressed by Sir John
Lubbock[96] and Packard. The term nymph is used in this case not
because there is any resemblance to the condition similarly named in
Insects with less complete metamorphosis, but because the term pupa is
applied to the outer case together with the contained nymph. The
transformation of the nymph into the perfect blowfly occupies a period
very variable according to the temperature.
Histolysis.—The processes by which the internal organs of the maggot

are converted into those of the fly are of two kinds,—histolysis or breaking
down, histogenesis or building up, of tissue. The intermediary agents in
histolysis are phagocytes, cells similar to the leucocytes or white
corpuscles of the blood: the intermediary agents in histogenesis are
portions of tissue existing in the larval state incorporated with the different
organs, or preserving a connexion therewith even when they are to a
great extent separated therefrom. In this latter case they are called
imaginal discs, though Professor Miall prefers to term them imaginal
folds.[97] The two processes of histolysis and histogenesis, though to
some extent mutually dependent (for the material to be built up has to be
largely obtained by previous destruction), do not go on pari passu, though
they are to a great extent contemporaneous. In the resting larva histolysis
is predominant, while in the nymph histogenesis is more extensive.
Microscopic observation shows that the phenomena connected with the
histolysis of the muscular tissue are scarcely distinguishable from those
of an inflammatory process, and Viallanes[98] dilates on this fact in an
instructive manner. The phagocytes attach themselves to, or enter, the
tissues which are to be disintegrated, and becoming distended, assume a
granular appearance. By this pseudo-inflammatory process the larval
structures are broken down into a creamy substance; the buds, or germs,
from which the new organs are to be developed being exempt from the
destruction. These buds, of which about sixty or upwards have already
been detected, undergo growth as they are liberated, and so the new
creature is formed, the process of growth in certain parts going on while
destruction is being accomplished in others. Considerable discrepancy
prevails as to the extent to which the disintegration of some of the tissues
is carried.
Fig. 87.—Imaginal discs of Muscidae in process of development: A, Brain

and ventral ganglion of a larva 7 mm. long of M. vomitoria; v, ventral
ganglion; c, cephalic ganglion; h, head rudiment; vc, portion of ventral
chain; pd, prothoracic rudiment; vc3, third nerve; md, mesothoracic
rudiment: B, mesothoracic rudiment, more advanced, in a pupa just
formed of Sarcophaga carnaria, showing the base of the sternum and
folds of the forming leg, the central part (f) representing the foot: C, the
rudimentary leg of the same more advanced; f, femur; t, tibia; f1, f5,
tarsal joints: D, two discs from a larva 20 mm. long of Sarcophaga,
attached to tracheae; msw, mesonotal and wing-rudiment; mt,
metathoracic rudiment: E, r, mesothoracic rudiment of a 7 mm. long
larva attached to a tracheal twig. (After Weismann and Graber.)
According to Kowalevsky[99] it would appear that after the phagocytes

have become loaded with granules they serve as nutriment for the
growing tissues, and he thinks they become blood-cells in the imago. The
process of histolysis has been chiefly studied in the blowfly, and not much
is known of it in other Insects, yet it occurs to a considerable extent,
according to Bugnion[100] and others, in the metamorphosis of
Lepidoptera. Indeed it would almost seem that the processes of histolysis
and histogenesis may be looked on as exaggerated forms of the
phenomena of the ordinary life of tissues, due to greater rapidity and
discontinuity of tissue nutrition.
Imaginal Discs.—The imaginal discs are portions of the larval hypoderm,

detached from continuity with the main body of the integument, but
connected therewith by strings or pedicels which may be looked on as
portions of the basement membrane. Whether these discs, or histoblasts
as they are called by Künckel d'Herculais,[101] are distinguished by any
important character from other buds or portions of regenerative tissue
that, according to Kowalevsky,[102] Korschelt and Heider,[103] and others,
exist in other parts of the body, does not appear to be at present
ascertained.
We give some figures, taken from Weismann and Graber, of the imaginal
rudiments existing in the larvae of Muscidae. Although by no means
good, they are the best for our purpose we can offer to the reader. Other
figures will be found in Lowne's work on the blowfly now in course of
publication. Weismann's paper[104] is now thirty years old, and, when it
was written, he was not aware of the intimate connexion the rudiments
have with the integument; this has, however, now been demonstrated by
several observers. Pratt states[105] that the formation of the imaginal
discs in Melophagus ovinus takes place in the later stages of the
embryonic development, and after the manner formerly suggested by
Balfour, viz. invagination of the ectoderm.
Fig. 88.—Median longitudinal section through larva of blowfly during the
process of histolysis. (After Graber.) Explanation in text.
Both the regenerative buds and the rudimentary sexual glands are known
to be derived directly from the embryo; neither of them undergoes any
histolysis, so that we have in them embryonic structures which exist in a
quiescent condition during the period in which the larva is growing with
great rapidity, and which when the larva has attained its full growth and is
disintegrating, then appropriate the products of the disintegration so as to
produce the perfect fly.
Our Fig. 88, taken from Graber, represents a longitudinal median section
of a full-grown larva of Musca, in which the processes of metamorphosis
are taking place. The position of some of the more important imaginal
rudiments is shown by it: b1, b2, b3, rudiments of the three pairs of legs of
the imago; an, of antennae; between an and w, rudiment of eye; w, of
wings; h, of halteres; f, fat-body; d, middle of alimentary canal; n, ventral
chain; st, stigma; 6, 7, sixth and seventh body segments.
Physiology of Metamorphosis.
Many years ago, Harvey perceived the probable existence of a

physiological continuity between the earlier and later stages of the
Insect's life. Modern investigation has shown that in the blowfly a
remarkable analogy exists between the conditions of the pupa and the
egg. The outer shell of the pupa corresponds to the chorion or egg-shell,
and the delicate outer membrane of the pronymph to the oolemn or lining
membrane of the egg; the creamy matter corresponds with the yolk, and
the regenerative buds are analogous to the formative portions of the
developing egg. The process of histolysis as carried out by the
phagocytes of the later life appears also to find a parallel in the
vitellophags of the embryonic life.[106] It appears probable that the
physiological processes of the post-embryonic metamorphosis may be
essentially a repetition—or an interrupted continuation—of those of the
embryonic period.
The inquiry as to what are the determining causes of the metamorphic

changes of the blowfly and other Insects has as yet but little advanced.
Why does the larva grow up to a certain period with great rapidity, then
cease its appropriating power and break up the parts that have been so
rapidly and recently formed? And why do the imaginal buds remain
quiescent till the other tissues are being disintegrated, and then, instead
of sharing the general condition of disintegration, commence a career of
development? To these questions no satisfactory answer has yet been
given, though the remarkable studies, already referred to, of Bataillon on
the later larval life of the silkworm suggest the direction in which
knowledge may be found, for they show that the physiological conditions
of the later larval life are different from those of the earlier life, possibly as
the direct result of the mere aggregation of matter, and the consequent
different relations of the parts of the organism to atmospheric and
aqueous conditions.
If we wish to understand metamorphosis, we must supplement the old

opinion that ecdysis is merely an occurrence to facilitate expansion, by
the more modern conception that it is also an important physiological
process. That shedding the skin is done solely to permit of enlargement of
size is a view rendered untenable by many considerations. The
integument can increase and stretch to an enormous extent without the
aid of moulting; witness the queen-termite, and the honey-bearers of the
Myrmecocystus ants. Many moults are made when increase of size does
not demand them, and the shedding of the skin at the time of pupation is
accompanied by a decrease in size. And if moulting be merely connected
with increase of size, it is impossible to see why Cloëon should require
two dozen moults, while Campodea can do with one, or why a
collembolon should go on moulting during the period of life subsequent to
the cessation of growth.
The attention of entomologists has been chiefly directed to the ecdyses
connected with the disclosure of the pupal and imaginal instars. Various
important transformations may, however, occur previous to this, and when
they do so it is always in connexion with ecdyses. Caterpillars frequently
assume a different appearance and change their habits or character at a
particular ecdysis; and in Orthoptera each ecdysis is accompanied by a
change of form of the thoracic segments; this change is very considerable
at one of the intermediate ecdyses.
The assumption of the pupa state is the concomitant of an ecdysis, and

so also is the appearance of the imago; but the commencement of each
of these two stages precedes the ecdysis, which is merely the outward
mark of the physiological processes. The ecdysis by which the pupa is
revealed occurs after the completion of growth and when great changes
in the internal organs have occurred and are still taking place; the ecdysis
by which the imago appears comes after development has been quite or
nearly completed.
Although the existence of a pupa is to the eye the most striking of the
differences between Insects with perfect and those with imperfect
metamorphosis, yet there is reason for supposing that the pupa and the
pupal period are really of less importance than they at first sight appear to
be. In Fig. 85 we showed how great is the difference in appearance
between the pupa and the imago. The condition that precedes the
appearance of the pupa is, however, really the period of the most
important change. In Fig. 89 we represent the larva and pupa of a bee; it
will be seen that the difference between the two forms is very great, while
the further change that will be required to complete the perfect Insect is
but slight. When the last skin of the larva of a bee or of a beetle is thrown
off, it is, in fact, the imago that is revealed; the form thus displayed,
though colourless and soft, is that of the perfect Insect; what remains to
be done is a little shrinking of some parts and expansion of others, the
development of the colour, the hardening of certain parts. The colour
appears quite gradually and in a regular course, the eyes being usually
the first parts to darken. After the coloration is more or less perfected—
according to the species—a delicate pellicle is shed or rubbed off, and the
bee or beetle assumes its final form, though usually it does not become
active till after a farther period of repose.
Fig. 89.—Larva and pupa of a bee, Xylocopa violacea: A, larva; B, pupa,
ventral aspect; C, pupa, dorsal aspect. (After Lucas.)
CHAPTER VI
CLASSIFICATION—THE NINE ORDERS OF INSECTS—THEIR CHARACTERS—

PACKARD'S ARRANGEMENT—BRAUER'S CLASSIFICATION—CLASSIFICATIONS
BASED ON METAMORPHOSIS—SUPER-ORDERS—THE SUBDIVISIONS OF
ORDERS.
Classification.
We have already alluded to the fact that Insects are the most numerous in
species and individuals of all land animals: it is estimated that about
250,000 species have been already described and have had scientific
names given to them, and it is considered that this is probably only about
one-tenth of those that really exist. The classification in a comprehensible
manner of such an enormous number of forms is, it will be readily
understood, a matter of great difficulty. Several methods or schemes have
since the time of Linnaeus been devised for the purpose, but we shall not
trouble the reader to consider them, because most of them have fallen
into disuse and have only a historical interest. Even at present there
exists, however, considerable diversity of opinion on the question of
classification, due in part to the fact that some naturalists take the
structure of the perfect or adult Insect as the basis of their arrangement,
while others prefer to treat the steps or processes by which the structure
is attained, as being of primary importance. To consider the relative
values of these two methods would be beyond our scope, but as in
practice a knowledge of the structures themselves must precede an
inquiry as to the phases of development by which the structures are
reached; and as this latter kind of knowledge has been obtained in the
case of a comparatively small portion of the known forms,—the
embryology and metamorphosis having been investigated in but few
Insects,—it is clear that a classification on the basis of structure is the
only one that can be at present of practical value. We shall therefore for
the purposes of this work make use of an old and simple system, taking
as of primary importance the nature of the organs of flight, and of the
appendages for the introduction of food to the body by the perfect Insect.
We do not attempt to disguise the fact that this method is open to most
serious objections, but we believe that it is nevertheless at present the
most simple and useful one, and is likely to remain such, at any rate as
long as knowledge of development is in process of attainment.
Orders.
The great groups of Insects are called Orders, and of these we recognise
nine, viz. (1) Aptera, (2) Orthoptera, (3) Neuroptera, (4) Hymenoptera, (5)
Coleoptera, (6) Lepidoptera, (7) Diptera, (8) Thysanoptera, (9) Hemiptera.
These names are framed to represent the nature of the wings; and there
is some advantage in having the Orders named in a uniform and
descriptive manner. The system we adopt differs but little from that
proposed by Linnaeus.[107] The great Swedish naturalist did not,
however, recognise the Orders Orthoptera and Thysanoptera; and his
order Aptera was very different from ours.
These Orders may be briefly defined as follows,—the reader being asked

to recall the fact that by a mandibulate mouth we understand one in which
the mandibles, or the maxillæ, or both, are fitted for biting, crushing, or
grasping food; while the term suctorial implies that some of the mouth
parts are of a tubular form or are protrusible as a proboscis, which
assists, or protects, a more minute and delicate sucking apparatus:—
1. Aptera (ἀ without, πτερόν a wing). Wingless[108] Insects; mouth mandibulate or very

imperfectly suctorial. Metamorphosis very little.
2. Orthoptera (ὀρθός straight, πτερόν a wing). Four wings are present, the front pair
being coriaceous (leather-like), usually smaller than the other pair, which are of more
delicate texture, and contract in repose after the manner of a fan. Mouth mandibulate.
Metamorphosis slight.
3. Neuroptera (νεῦρον nerve, πτερόν a wing). Four wings of membranous consistency,
frequently with much network; the front pair not much, if at all, harder than the other pair,
the latter with but little or no fanlike action in closing. Mouth mandibulate. Metamorphosis
variable, but rarely slight.
4. Hymenoptera (ὑμήν membrane, πτερόν a wing). Four wings of membranous

consistency; the front pair larger than the hind, which are always small and do not fold
up in repose. Mouth mandibulate, sometimes provided also with a tubular proboscis.
Metamorphosis very great.
5. Coleoptera (κολεός sheath, πτερόν a wing). Four wings; the upper pair shell-like in
consistency, and forming cases which meet together over the back in an accurate line of
union, so as to entirely lose a winglike appearance, and to conceal the delicate
membranous hind pair. Mouth mandibulate. Metamorphosis great.
6. Lepidoptera (λεπίς scale, πτερόν a wing). Four large wings covered with scales.
Mouth suctorial. Metamorphosis great.
7. Diptera (δίς double, πτερόν a wing). Two membranous wings. Mouth suctorial, but
varying greatly. Metamorphosis very great.
8. Thysanoptera (θύσανος fringe, πτερόν a wing). Four very narrow fringed wings. Mouth
imperfectly suctorial. Metamorphosis slight.
9. Hemiptera (ἡμι half, πτερόν a wing). Four wings; the front pair either leather-like with
more membranous apex, or entirely parchment-like or membranous. Mouth perfectly
suctorial. Metamorphosis usually slight.
We must again ask the reader to bear in mind that numerous exceptions
exist to these characters in most of the great Orders; for instance,
wingless forms are not by any means rare in several of the Orders.
Before remarking further on this system we will briefly sketch two other
arrangements of the Orders of Insects, for which we are indebted to
Packard and Brauer.
Packard's Classification.
Packard has devoted much attention to the subject, and has published
two or three successive schemes, of which the following is the most

Faith Reason and Culture An Essay in Fundamental Theology 1St Ed Edition George Karuvelil Full Chapter

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Faith, Reason, and Culture: An Essay in

Fundamental Theology 1st ed. Edition

“George Karuvelil’s Faith, Reason, and Culture: An Essay in Fundamental Theology

ISBN 978-3-030-45814-0 ISBN 978-3-030-45815-7 (eBook)

There is a story of an aspiring naturalist experimenting with a frog. He

theology’. However, this branch of theology reached a stage where it was

Pune, India George Karuvelil

1 Reason: The Multi-Coloured Chameleon 1

Part I Science and Religion 37

2 Religious Diversity and Theology 45

3 Science and Religion: Some Parables and Models 75

4 Science and Religion: Autonomy and Conflict103

2 Beyond Autonomy: Some Criticisms of the Model107

Part II Existential Reasons: Conviction, Communication,

5 Communication, Culture, and Fundamental Theology151

6 Justification: Beyond Uniformitarianism181

3.2 Realism: Its Epistemological Components194

7 Perception: Its Nature and Justification213

Part III Reasoning About Faith 245

9 Nature Mysticism and God285

10 Religious Diversity, Christian Faith, and Truth317

Fig. 3.1 Two hierarchies of reality 92

Reason: The Multi-Coloured Chameleon

The Second Vatican Council (1962–1965) officially opened up the possi-

© The Author(s) 2020 1

a bachelor’s degree from its philosophy faculties.2 Both these documents

1 The Vision and Mission of Fides et Ratio

1.1 Pope Benedict XVI: Missionary of a Rationally

attempts to reach out and present Christianity as a rational option to his

1.2 A Vision for Future

Wilhelm Guggenberger, ‘Democracy and Truth: Pope Benedict’s Speech in Berlin’, in

epistemology. Against ‘widespread symptoms of lack of confidence in

1.3 Terms: Natural and Cultural

does not matter as far as our understanding of ‘natural’ is concerned; it is

2 Role of Culture in Relating Faith and Reason

2.1 The First Twelve Centuries: Theology as Philosophy

2.2 Thomas Aquinas: Philosophy as a Bridge to Culture

2.3 Neo-Thomism: Philosophy as a Shield Against Culture

humanist-­cultural traditions of ancient Greece and Rome, the religious

It was necessary that I should acquit myself as a priest of my ministry, but

Beginning with features of any human experience of the world (change,

be known about God through natural reason is deficient in three ways.

teaching post at the University of Greifswald. In a letter of resignation

I became a theologian because I was interested in the scientific treatment of

original Thomism. After AeterniPatris came the encyclical of Pope Pius X

culture. In other words, neo-Thomism was basically a holding operation,

2.4 Impact of the Modern View of Reason

Atheism became matter of boast because, when the centrality of reason in

outstanding event in the Catholic theology of our [twentieth] century is

2.5 Vatican II: Dissolution of Philosophy and Its Aftermath

it publicly and concluding that the incarnation doctrine, instead of continu-

indignant that the churches had so long encouraged them to go on inno-

3 Aquinas as ‘Exemplar’

3.2 Exercising Officium Sapientis Today

3.3 Faith and Reason in Non-Roman Catholic

4 The Structure and the Argument of the Book

religious knowledge. In much of that debunking, ‘epistemology’ has been

The period occupied by the development of the embryo is very different in

The ontogeny, or life history of the individual, of Insects is peculiar,

The metamorphosis of Insects is one of the most interesting parts of

Figs. 84 and 85 represent corresponding stages in the life of two different

Fig. 84.—Locust (Acridium peregrinum): A, newly hatched; B, just

Fig. 85.—Butterfly (Pieris): A, the newly hatched young, or larva magnified;

Pune, India George Karuvelil

1 Reason: The Multi-Coloured Chameleon 1

Part I Science and Religion 37

2 Religious Diversity and Theology 45

3 Science and Religion: Some Parables and Models 75

4 Science and Religion: Autonomy and Conflict103

2 Beyond Autonomy: Some Criticisms of the Model107

Part II Existential Reasons: Conviction, Communication,

5 Communication, Culture, and Fundamental Theology151

6 Justification: Beyond Uniformitarianism181

3.2 Realism: Its Epistemological Components194

7 Perception: Its Nature and Justification213

Part III Reasoning About Faith 245

9 Nature Mysticism and God285

10 Religious Diversity, Christian Faith, and Truth317

Fig. 3.1 Two hierarchies of reality 92

humanist-cultural traditions of ancient Greece and Rome, the religious