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Book Paradox 1 Introduction Paradox Without Piety 2007 the Uses Of
Book Paradox 1 Introduction Paradox Without Piety 2007 the Uses Of
Book Paradox 1 Introduction Paradox Without Piety 2007 the Uses Of
INTRODUCTION
F
rom the very inception of the naturalistic study of religion
in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, students of reli-
gion have remarked on the prevalence of contradiction and
paradox in religious discourse. Hobbes, for instance, wryly ob-
serves, “That which taketh away the reputation of Wisdome, in
him that formeth a Religion, or addeth to it when it is already
formed, is the enjoyning of a belief of contradictories.” A century
later Hume, giving the topic more attention, claims in The Natural
History of Religion that “all popular theology” [i.e., all theology ex-
cept philosophical deism] exhibits “a kind of appetite for absurdity
and contradiction.” Both Hobbes and Hume have specific contra-
dictions in mind, of course; their comments have polemical intent
directed at Christian scholasticism. Nevertheless, both believed
that Christian history instances a more universal generalization,
and both (to different degrees) sought to explain the causes and
describe the effects of religion’s predilection for what in more re-
cent parlance we call paradox.
Robin Horton has argued conversely that religious discourse is
generally no more paradoxical than scientific discourse, and that
the pronounced glorification of paradox in Christianity represents
a local exception. Scholars since Hobbes and Hume, however,
have amply documented the prominence of paradox in much non-
Western religious reflection. They also concur that, unlike scien-
tific thought which always regards paradox as a weakness of a the-
ment and union. That paradox can foster detachment from disfa-
vored affections and judgments, and/or promote identification
with a wider perspective, explains why religious texts sometimes
seem to revel in paradox, rather than simply tolerating it as a theo-
retical physicist might. In this book I aim to examine critically the
material grounds for some prominent religious paradoxes (i.e., “the
reasons why the two [apparently contradictory] arms of a paradox
are jointly asserted”), distinguish, explain, and illustrate two types
of religious use of paradox, contrast them with a well-known non-
religious use of contradiction, and venture a social psychological
hypothesis about the circumstances in which one or another of
these cognitive practices is likely to appear.
I begin my typology in chapter 2, where I describe what I call
cognitive asceticism. Cognitive ascetics harness the discomfort of
cognitive dissonance and hitch it to an ascetic regimen. Their cog-
nitive practice consists in cultivating cognitive dissonance and em-
ploying it ascetically. Presumably, cognitive ascetics can exploit
cognitive dissonance deriving from sources other than paradox,
but I will focus on cognitive ascetics who capitalize on the ascetic
potential of paradox. In their hands paradox becomes a tool of as-
cetic self-transformation. Søren Kierkegaard is the cognitive as-
cetic I discuss in greatest detail. He takes cognitive self-torment to
heights rarely found elsewhere.
In chapter 3 I contrast cognitive asceticism to my second type of
religious response to paradox: mysticism. During the last two or
three centuries we have come to think of mysticism in terms of ex-
traordinary experiences or altered states of consciousness. When I
use the term mysticism to denote a kind of response to paradox, I
use the term more broadly. I take inspiration from the premodern,
Christian concept of mystical theology, which concerns ineffable,
suprarational cognition beyond the paradoxes to which rational
reflection on God leads. In my usage a mystic purports to attain
ineffable superknowledge on the far side of paradox. For a mystic,
paradox does not mark the limit of human cognition; rather, para-
dox opens out onto a plane of exceptional cognition. Under this
definition a mystic may, but need not, experience extraordinary
across the external boundary of the group, paradox will evoke awe
and reverence. The mystic’s belief that he has attained ineffable su-
perknowledge dispels the cognitive dissonance attendant on para-
dox, while these strong affects lend the doctrine that begets para-
dox the vivacity to impel a change in his volitional complex.
Although my account of the causal relationships between mysti-
cism, emotion, and volition ranges over the same terrain as Wil-
liam James’s influential theory in The Varieties of Religious Experi-
ence, it contrasts sharply with James’s position. James includes in
his catalogue of the saintly emotions a feeling that he sometimes
calls “mystical emotion”: an “immense elation and freedom, as the
outlines of the confining selfhood melt down.” The “practical con-
sequence” of this excitement is charity. James here describes the
emotional arousal and identification with a wider perspective that
I have argued results from mysticism as a cognitive practice. Em-
phatically, James insists that the saintly emotions etiologically pre-
cede theologies. In fact he specifically makes a point of arguing
that one cannot derive the state of mind “in which the sand and
grit of the selfhood incline to disappear” from belief or cosmologi-
cal reflection (225). Elsewhere in the Varieties, he describes “philo-
sophic and theological formulas” as “secondary products” building
on religious feeling (337–38). “The fact is,” he writes in yet another
passage, “that the mystical feeling of enlargement, union, and
emancipation has no special intellectual content whatever of its
own. It is capable of forming matrimonial alliances with material
furnished by the most diverse philosophies and theologies, pro-
vided only they can find a place in their framework for its peculiar
emotional mood” (333–34). Likewise, James views the saintly emo-
tions as “more fundamental” than “ecclesiasticism” (42).
Others have conclusively argued that emotions are thoroughly
(in fact essentially) cognitive and that James, therefore, is mistaken
to distinguish religious emotions and feelings so sharply from the-
ology and beliefs. Attending to cognitive practices supplements
this criticism of James by explaining how theological doctrines can
come to bear the emotional intensity capable of transforming the
self. The emotional arousal and transformed volitional complex