Tuesday, November 12, 2013

Shadows of Unknowing

There is a lot of talk about the way people know things. There's a branch of philosophy known as epistemology entirely devoted to this study. The question is simple: if there are things we don't know, how are there things we do? That is to say, if any one thing that we know has the possibility to be contradicted by an entirely unknown thing - and this is always possible, given there are unknown things - how is it that anything can be known for certain? And if nothing is known for certain, then could not anything be known probabilistically? I.e., there is no means by which we can have knowledge of any sort if nothing is certain.

But there is a work-around, and that involves a look at people's knowledge in time. Sometimes (the present time(s)) people know things and sometimes they don't - but how does time play into it? Is there a purpose for there being a time that we can all relate to - the present moment - yet be something in which there is an unknown - but still all things known? That is, if all things we see and sense are known within the moment, then perhaps we do know things - just nothing outside that moment, not even one step to the future - This is the conclusion of the works of David Hume.

But there is not a satisfactory explanation of life in this answer. Not only do we seem to know - indeed, know - things about the next moment, and considerably into the future, but we know many things we do not observe, nor ever could have the capability to observe; Things like "I know that human body is connected to a non-physical mind." - This is an impossible-to-observe statement, as non-physical minds, by their nature, cannot be observed. We shouldn't know that anyone besides oneself exists, i.e., we should believe that human bodies are just like machines, and we shouldn't know that anything is more than a freeze-frame. Yet we know more than this - and no one could tell another differently, except by performative contradiction in believing he or she speaks to someone.

Yet there is a fuller answer to this question, and that lies in theology. God is a thing that man knows and cannot observe; perhaps he is the highway to our other knowledges that we cannot explain. It would make sense that if the common man observes the truth: "other minds exist" - but cannot put his finger on an adequate definition - that a God would grant him that knowledge in the absence of a fuller explanation; perhaps because he is insufficient, perhaps because some concepts or properties of that knowledge are entirely outside his understanding. Whatever the case may be, God is a sound solution.

Then what is God, and what could He be? I propose a man - like the rest of us - I know this. God is a human being with the capability to endow knowledge in our minds because he understands them completely. And just as we understand God through our knowledge of Christ's example - as far as how we are supposed to live here on Earth - God does even better understand us, his creations, so as to endow them with sufficient knowledge to carry out His purposes.

The curious feature of such knowledges as "I know other minds", is how easily they should be rejected by a process of logical deduction, and how infrequently they are actually rejected. This is even because there is no way to live without excepting them. They are rooted as firmly in one's mind as anything. There is no knowledge that is logically deduced - but the knowledge of other mind's is indeed a far-out axiom. All axioms remain in this light, but how curious that some are so independent of our understanding. This provides sound evidence for an omniscience that explains things far outside our own control.

There are many ways to rearrange this topic. One is to consider what we don't know about ourselves as a shadow, and to consider the unknowing in other things as other shadows. If two shadows overlap, a darkness that beats everything becomes fully in display. If one there lies, it is a hazy mist that one sees through unclearly, indistinctly, but with and by a knowledge he can't explain that remains, plain as day, undeniable. This is illustrated by the following diagram:


"Notum" - knowledge - remains enshrouded by unknowing from all sides. It exists, but in a quirky and inexplicable fashion. "umbra ignotum" - the knowledge of our ignorance, is the enshrouder in this respect. "Umbra sui" - the shadow of oneself - demonstrates the unknowing one has in himself - because of his weakness or imperfection - "aequalitier peccatum" being his sins. Which is not to say sins in the traditional sense, but in the sense of "implanting in one's mind the things that he is not able to understand about himself, which he must climb to - his failing thereof" (from a divine perspective). This isn't a sense in which one strays and loses faith, but in a sense that one strays by remaining insolent in his task as a self-determiner and self-understander.

This concludes what I find to be the source of knowledge in epistemology. It reverberates in a positive way with the understandings of others and myself. It resonates with the way people speak about the things they know. "Maybe, possibly" - these are half-knowns. Uncertainty abounds in one's thinking, but it remains inexplicably partially certain. It is the source of an absolute whose nature we only strive towards without reaching. It is the God that makes known to us our own understanding.

How do things like this come in line with that which is applicable to our own lives? Well the answer is simple: God is the purpose of our lives in the most important fashion. If not him, then where do we turn? Life is meaningless or entirely purposed depending on his existence. If everything that happens is to be taken as design by an omniscient creator, then all of life is to be examined the way one would study an intricate puzzle - rather than ignored as unfortunate side-effects. There is great truth to the statement that one needs to know something before he loses it, and if that's so, then God is the thing to lose. Ask any Christian what he thinks about his knowledge of God. Suppose he says "I understand him, but only in a way I can explain to myself. And it's quite fuzzy. And… &c." .. is this not the typical response? But how clearly it comes to the man when he abandons his faith! The first thing to go is his sense of purpose.

Many of the things least understood are the most important - and this follows if the lights are dim and the shadows present. We look as far forward as we can to see to the end of the room and await what we have in store, but it becomes less and less seeable as the line runs down. There is no way to remove the shadows except by improving oneself, and how clearly it is that those of greater perfection are able to more clearly understand, accept, know, and explain the God we believe in. There is an important sense in which it remains faith - but only in the sense that everything else is faith, which it is. Should one rebuke his understanding of God in his language, he speaks nothing save contradiction, and even his silence - knowing he is silent - is a contradiction in Himself. He cannot deny that he knows, but as he tries to understand it, the answer must come from outside him. And that is God.

There is a clearer way to express my meaning. Suppose there were two on an island. Each man had three gallons of water and two pineapples, plus a lot of time on their hands, the two of them. Suppose one suggests to the other "how about you trade me a pineapple and I'll give you a gallon and a half of my water." The other man says - "of course not (suppose); I want this gallon and a half of water you provide far less than I desire my pineapple." So the man bids further - "suppose I grant you 3 gallons of water, the lot of it, then could I perhaps have your pineapple?" And the other refuses. "3 gallons for but a portion?" Still the man is silent. "What makes you so keen to retain your pineapple?" the man finally asks, and the other responds: "Without one for myself and one to admire, my life here on this island is a waste of my time." "What do you mean?" "Well, I'll tell you: First the pineapple keeps my hungry, second the pineapple keeps me filled."

One pineapple yourself, one pineapple your God.

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