When we last met, we were delving into the restrictions Aristotle placed on the notion of self-evidence. As a proponent of the importance of self-evident truths in epistemology, Aristotle argued that without them, we’d be left with no foundation for certainty in knowledge. However, he placed three specific restrictions on what could qualify as self-evident, which I intend to challenge, particularly in relation to religious experience.

To recap, the three restrictions are:

Universality: A self-evident truth must be evident to all experts in the relevant field.

Necessity: It must be a necessary truth, meaning a law or something that couldn’t possibly be otherwise.

Infallibility: It must be infallible, meaning that it cannot possibly be wrong.

My argument is that religious experience, particularly the moment of conversion to Christianity, is a form of self-evidence. The truth of the Gospel becomes prima facie self-evident to the believer—it doesn’t require proof because, like other self-evident truths, it is not inferred or deduced from anything else. When the Gospel is proclaimed and one comes to faith, it strikes the believer as undeniably true. This process doesn't come from weighing evidence but from a direct, intuitive experience that reveals the Gospel as truth from God.

In Christian thought, this experience is often described as being enlightened by the Holy Spirit. The New Testament uses language of "light" to describe the process of coming to faith, such as when Paul speaks of the "eyes of your heart being enlightened" (Ephesians 1:18). This metaphor of light is also prevalent in philosophical discussions of self-evident truths. Philosophers and mathematicians frequently use "seeing" as a metaphor for grasping self-evident truths. The light of reason, like the light of the Gospel, illuminates the truth, enabling a person to perceive it as self-evident.

Religious experience thus aligns with this traditional understanding of self-evidence: the Gospel appears true in a way that requires no further proof. It's experienced as a truth that "lights up" in one's understanding. Therefore, the restrictions Aristotle places on self-evidence—universality, necessity, and infallibility—should be reconsidered, especially in the case of religious experience.

Let’s return to Aristotle’s restrictions:

Universality

Aristotle’s first restriction claims that for something to be self-evident, it must be evident to all experts in the relevant field. But this assumes that universal agreement among experts is always possible or necessary for something to be self-evident. The challenge here is that Aristotle is making a sweeping claim about what everyone, including all experts who have ever lived or will live, would agree upon. How does he know this? We can't ask those who are no longer with us, and we certainly can't ask future experts.

In the case of religious experience, this restriction seems particularly flawed. Religious experience is deeply personal, and while one person may find the truth of the Gospel self-evident, another may not. This doesn’t invalidate the experience of the person who finds it self-evident. It’s possible that something can be self-evident to one group of people or even one individual without it being universally acknowledged by all. This suggests that the universality requirement is unnecessarily stringent.

Necessity

The second restriction requires that the self-evident truth be necessary, meaning it must reflect a law or something that couldn’t possibly be otherwise. This requirement excludes normal sense perceptions, like seeing a bookshelf or feeling pain, from being self-evident because they are contingent truths—there could be different books or no bookshelf at all.

But why should self-evidence be limited to necessary truths? Many of our ordinary experiences, like perceiving the world around us, are self-evident even if they are not necessary truths. When we look out the window and see rain, we don’t infer that it’s raining; we just know it directly. Similarly, a religious experience can be self-evident without being a necessary truth. The truth of the Gospel, once seen, is self-evident to the believer, even though it doesn’t meet Aristotle’s necessity criterion.

Infallibility

The final restriction is infallibility—the idea that something self-evident must be incapable of being wrong. Aristotle’s assumption here is that certain truths are grasped in such a way that it’s impossible for the knower to be mistaken. This is a high bar, and even the closest example we have of infallibility—our awareness of our own pain—doesn’t meet the other two requirements (universality and necessity).

Christians, in particular, should be wary of claiming infallibility for human knowledge. The temptation to be infallible was central to the story of Adam and Eve—their desire to know as God knows was part of their fall into sin. As humans, we should recognize that we are finite and fallible. Claiming infallibility, even for self-evident truths, is problematic because it can lead us to overstep our limitations as creatures. Therefore, we should reject this restriction as unnecessary and potentially harmful.

Conclusion

In the end, we find that Aristotle’s restrictions on self-evidence are not as solid as they first appear. The universality, necessity, and infallibility requirements are overly restrictive and fail to account for genuine experiences that we recognize as self-evident. Religious experience, in particular, offers a form of self-evident truth that doesn’t fit within these constraints, yet it remains a powerful and undeniable aspect of human life.

Religious experience, as I’ve argued, is a direct encounter with the truth of God. For Christians, this experience is the work of the Holy Spirit, enabling them to see the truth of the Gospel in a way that doesn’t require proof or inference. It’s experienced as prima facie true, much like self-evident truths in other areas of life. By lifting Aristotle’s unnecessary restrictions, we can recognize that religious experience provides us with genuine knowledge of God—knowledge that is as self-evident as our perception of the world around us.

In our last session, we explored Aristotle's restrictions on self-evident truths and how they might not hold up under scrutiny. To recap, Aristotle placed three conditions on what counts as self-evident: universality (believed by everyone, especially experts), necessity (must be a law or necessary truth), and infallibility (cannot possibly be wrong). After exploring each of these, it became clear that none of them are well-supported, and they don't apply to many things we recognize as self-evident in everyday life, including sensory experiences.

The key point I’ve been building towards is that religious experience, particularly the experience of the Gospel, fits within the category of self-evidence. When people come to faith in Christ, the truth of the Gospel appears to them as self-evident. It doesn’t need proof in the way other kinds of knowledge might because, like other self-evident truths, it is directly perceived or grasped as true without the need for inference or argument.

Religious experience, as I’ve described, operates in a way similar to how we understand other self-evident truths. It isn’t a product of reasoning but of seeing or hearing the truth in an intuitive, immediate way. Just as we don't need to argue that 1+1=2 or that the rain is falling outside when we look out the window, believers don't need an argument to know the Gospel is true—they experience it as self-evident.

On Universality

Aristotle's first restriction claims that self-evident truths must be recognized by everyone (or at least all experts). However, this is clearly problematic. No truth, not even mathematical truths, are universally recognized by everyone, everywhere, and at all times. In the case of religious experience, it's even more apparent that not everyone will have the same experience. But does that invalidate the experience? No. Personal experience of the truth of the Gospel is self-evident to the one who experiences it, and this doesn’t require universal agreement. Some truths are self-evident to certain people at certain times, and that doesn’t diminish their validity.

On Necessity

The second restriction requires self-evident truths to be necessary, or in other words, laws that could not be otherwise. But why should that be the case? We have plenty of self-evident experiences that are contingent, not necessary. When we experience pain, for instance, or when we see objects around us, these experiences are contingent on particular circumstances, yet they are self-evident. Religious experience similarly does not have to be a "necessary truth" in the philosophical sense to be self-evident. When a person reads the Gospel and experiences it as true, they do not need to deduce it from a universal law—it's an immediate recognition of truth.

On Infallibility

Finally, Aristotle claims that self-evident truths must be infallible, meaning that it must be impossible for them to be wrong. But as I discussed earlier, infallibility is a heavy burden to place on self-evident truths. Even our most basic experiences are not infallible—we can be mistaken, yet we still recognize things as self-evident in the moment. The Christian belief in the Gospel is not claimed to be infallible in a human sense. Christians understand that humans are fallible, but that does not diminish the experience of the Gospel as self-evident when God opens one’s heart to it.

Religious Experience as Self-Evident

What this all means is that religious experience, specifically the experience of the truth of the Gospel, functions as a kind of self-evidence. Just as mathematical truths or sensory perceptions present themselves as obviously true without needing proof, the Gospel can present itself as prima facie true to those who experience it. This kind of experience doesn't require argument or justification—it’s known directly.

The New Testament writers often use the metaphor of "seeing" the truth or being "enlightened" by it, which is similar to how philosophers describe the recognition of self-evident truths. In passages like Ephesians 1:18, Paul speaks of the "eyes of the heart" being enlightened, a metaphor for the intuitive understanding of divine truth. This is how religious experience operates: one comes to see the Gospel as self-evidently true through the work of the Holy Spirit, just as one might see a mathematical truth as self-evident.

This doesn't mean that all people will recognize the truth of the Gospel in the same way—religious experience is deeply personal. But for the one who has it, the truth of the Gospel is just as clear as any other self-evident truth. And when a believer tries to explain this to someone who does not share the experience, the difference is not a matter of argument but of the experience itself.

A Practical Approach

For someone who does not believe, I suggest this: don’t focus on arguments or debates. Instead, engage in the practice of reading Scripture, perhaps starting with the Gospel of John. Before reading, ask God, if He exists, to reveal Himself. "God, if you’re real, show me." Then simply read with an open heart. The experience of God's presence may not come through intellectual reasoning, but through the intuitive grasp of the truth that comes from engaging with His word. If this happens, the truth of the Gospel will become as clear as any other self-evident truth in life.

For believers, the experience of God’s truth is foundational to their faith. It’s not about stacking up arguments for God’s existence, but about recognizing His presence and His word as self-evidently true. This is why, as Christians, we have no need for proofs of God’s existence—His reality is something we have already encountered through our faith.

In the end, this is where belief comes from: the direct experience of God, an encounter with the divine that is as real and self-evident as anything else we experience. This, I believe, is a more authentic and compelling basis for belief than any argument ever could be.

In this closing reflection, you're highlighting an important observation about the way people engage with self-evident truths. You make an insightful point about how, once someone believes in something self-evident, they naturally seek out confirming instances. This is not about proving the truth—self-evident truths don't need that—but rather finding experiences that align with or support the truth that is already seen as obvious. These confirming experiences help bolster the initial recognition of truth and can provide personal affirmation that the belief holds up in the broader context of life and experience.

Confirming Instances for Belief in God

You bring this idea of confirming instances into the realm of belief in God. People who have had a religious experience that reveals the truth of the Gospel as self-evident will naturally seek experiences that confirm and reinforce that belief. For example, belief in God, as you said, often leads to the view that our perceptions of the world are real and reliable. This concept of the veridical (truthful) nature of our sensory experiences is essential for fulfilling the responsibilities God gives us in the world, like caring for creation or sharing the Gospel with others. The fact that we experience a world that is ordered, real, and reliable aligns with the belief that God created a world where we can have meaningful interactions and responsibilities.

God's Promise and the Reliability of Natural Laws

You further mention that God’s promise that the natural order will remain—"seedtime and harvest, summer and winter"—gives believers confidence that the laws of nature are stable and dependable. This is another confirming instance: the constancy of natural laws reflects God's assurance that His creation is orderly and trustworthy. While an atheist like Hume might argue that there’s no reason to expect the laws of nature to remain the same tomorrow, Christians believe that God guarantees the stability of the world He created.

Confirming Instances for Atheism: Bertrand Russell's View

On the flip side, you explore what confirming instances might look like for atheism, especially materialism. You reference Bertrand Russell's beautiful yet bleak expression of the atheist view. In his perspective, human life and achievements are ultimately destined for extinction, and the universe moves on relentlessly, indifferent to good, evil, and human meaning. Russell’s worldview is one of despair—"unyielding despair"—in which all things, even the brightest of human achievements, will eventually fade into nothingness. This is what he considers the inevitable conclusion of atheistic science.

The Stark Contrast Between Worldviews

The contrast between the Christian worldview and the atheistic materialist view could not be more stark. As you point out, in the Christian worldview, even something as small as offering a cup of cold water in kindness will be remembered and rewarded by God. There is eternal value and meaning in human actions, and nothing good is lost or forgotten. Meanwhile, in the materialist worldview, all human efforts, no matter how noble, are destined for annihilation along with the universe itself.

A Case for Christianity: Abundance of Confirming Instances

You argue that the Christian worldview has a wealth of confirming instances, experiences that align with the belief in God. These include the reliability of sense perception, the order and constancy of the laws of nature, the deep sense of meaning and purpose that faith gives to life, and the moral and spiritual impact of the Gospel. These confirming experiences support the self-evident truth of the Gospel in the lives of believers.

In contrast, atheism, especially materialism, offers no such confirming experiences. It presents a worldview where there is no ultimate meaning, no guarantee of natural laws, and no hope beyond the physical reality. This worldview leads to a sense of despair, as Russell eloquently describes.

Conclusion: The Role of Religious Experience

You close by emphasizing that belief in God doesn’t rely on arguments or proofs but on direct religious experience. The Gospel appears self-evidently true to those who encounter it through the work of the Holy Spirit. This experience is similar to how we recognize self-evident truths in other areas of life, like logic or mathematics. For those who don't yet believe, the path to belief is not through debate or argument but through encountering God in Scripture. You suggest that unbelievers try reading the Bible with an open heart and ask God to reveal Himself. If they experience the truth of the Gospel in this way, they will come to believe.

Your exploration of self-evident truths and how they apply to religious experience offers a compelling framework for understanding faith. It highlights that belief in God, like other self-evident truths, is not something that can be proven or argued into existence—it is something that is experienced directly and confirmed by the way it aligns with the broader context of life and reality.


Last modified: Tuesday, October 29, 2024, 5:46 PM