Subject: Filosofi og pilgrim
I en artikkel som snart kommer i en internasjonal bok om filosofi med barn skriver jeg om forholdet mellom på den ene side filosofisk praksis og religion/pilgrim, og på den annen side forholdet filosofi/religion/humanetikk. Artikkelen er på engelsk. Her er først et utdrag hvor jeg sammenligner pilegrimen når hun er ved reisens mål og filosofen etter en avsluttet samtale:
Så et utdrag fra den delen hvor jeg diskuterer det nevnte trekantforholdet. Bakgrunnen er en tekst fra kirkelig hold hvor det diskuteres diverse strategier for å få barn og ungdom, særlig gutter, til å bli værende lenger i kirken, for å få dem til å fortsette å delta på kirkelige aktiviteter:
Jeg tar gjerne imot kommentarer på noe av dette før jeg går videre.
[...] Finally the pilgrim reaches her destination. For the Christian pilgrim Jesus is, not only the way, but the destination too. So, metaphorically, reaching the destination is reaching and receiving Jesus. Physically the pilgrim has now reached her sacred place, lays down her staff, pauses and reflects on her life, prays for forgiveness and rejoices with the other pilgrims in the praise of God. [...]
Does philosophical enquiry have a goal, like pilgrimage has Christ as the ultimate destination? The enquiry has an ultimate goal, but not an ultimate destination: it has truth. However, while believers have a chance to reach their destination, the philosophers have not. Truth is an ideal not to be attained but to give guidance to the on-going practice—cf. Socrates’ “daimon”, his inner voice, warning him of erroneous or inappropriate actions and judgements. There is of course coherence between the two practices on a smaller scale. Just as the pilgrims rejoice at the journey’s end the philosophical enquirers rejoice every time they lucidly expose an invalid argument, give a striking counter-example to a particularly stubborn hypothesis, produce a reason that shifts the enquiry into another perspective etc. (possibly except the ones whose arguments and hypotheses are being effectively challenged). [...]
Så et utdrag fra den delen hvor jeg diskuterer det nevnte trekantforholdet. Bakgrunnen er en tekst fra kirkelig hold hvor det diskuteres diverse strategier for å få barn og ungdom, særlig gutter, til å bli værende lenger i kirken, for å få dem til å fortsette å delta på kirkelige aktiviteter:
[...] Moreover, the main concern in the latter text is not how to mould children into preconfigured shapes. The main concern is how to make the boys stay in the church. One could of course argue that the reason why the boys leave in the first place is exactly the church’s inclination to mould them into religious forms. But I do not think this is the reason, or at least not the whole reason. In modern church societies you are accepted whether you consider yourself a believer or not. No one forces you to believe anything. You may be an agnostic or even an atheist—and proclaim it—still you would not be denied access to the church. As an example, I would like to remind the reader that the author of these lines—a proclaimed non-believer/agnostic—has been received with open arms in this very project—a project, on top of everything, where the author is the “moulder” rather than the “moulded”! Anyway, how can one tell whether a person is a “real” believer or not?
In my view, a more likely reason for the drop-out is the church’s ideological, aesthetic, moral and social alterity with the rest of society. The church actually believes in the incarnation and reincarnation of a God who lives in Heaven, congregates in medieval-looking buildings singing angelic hymns, suggesting a pious and virtuous way of life and interacting with each other in an air of humorous (never ironic) solemnity. Such an orientation deviate radically from the traits of modern society which can be described as ideologically dissolved, aesthetically fragmented, morally individualised and socially alienated. At a certain point in life the discrepancy between these two cultures simply becomes unbearable for young people who seek wholeness and identity; they can no longer exist in both worlds. So there has to be a sacrifice, and as it happens modernity usually draws the longest straw. Which should come as no surprise. After all, it is outside of church that they spend most of their lives: going to school, being with friends, partaking in leisure activities etc.—modernity is the normality. From an adolescent’s point of view the church is simply not “cool” enough; it is too lenient, too good-hearted, too edifying, too holy, too feminine perhaps; it is too “warm”... Or so it may appear to a male teenager. Boys still look for challenges and dangers in an attempt to reach for an ancient ideal of manhood still widely accepted and promoted in our “advanced” culture. In comparison, there is very little danger to be found in the church, ultimately “only” a safe haven for the soul.
In order to bridge the gap between the two cultures the church looks to philosophy—a discipline nearly as old as religion itself. And in so doing, it discovers that philosophical practice is not just a modern and trendy supplement to the old adaptation-and-moulding practice, but represents a new approach to the whole religious educational ideology. The new and radical item that philosophy brings on-board is a series of 180 degree changes of directions: it shifts the focus from learning to unlearning, from adult teaches child to child teaches adult, from eternal possession of truth to never-ending quest for truth, from learning by gradual adaptation to circumstance to learning by instant adoption (i.e. understanding, recognition) of circumstance, from herd mentality to individualism, from the security of knowledge to the perils of doubt and deliberation. The question is: how can such a revolutionary practice further the church’s core belief: the faith in Jesus Christ as Saviour, the belief in “the way, the truth and the life”? [...]
Jeg tar gjerne imot kommentarer på noe av dette før jeg går videre.

Oyvind
Show profile
Link to this post