The Consortium • Volume 2, Issue 2 - A Journal of Classical Christian Education

THE CONSORTIUM

A Journal of Classical Christian Education

Promoting classical education and fostering human flourishing for generations to come. Volume

The Consortium: A Journal of Classical Christian Education Volume 2, Issue 2.

Copyright © 2023 by Roman Roads Press

Published by Roman Roads Press in collaboration with Kepler Education and The Consortium of Classical Educators

Moscow, Idaho

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Editorial Advisory Board:

- Dr. Scott Postma, Editor in Chief

- Dr. Robert M. Woods, Senior Contributing Editor

- Dr. Gregory Soderberg, Contributing Editor

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ISBN: 978-1-944482-85-5 (paperback)

Version 1.0.0

December 2023

Review of From Achilles to Christ: Why Christians Should Read the Pagan Classics

by Sean C. Hadley, PhD

by Louis Markos

Review of Reading for the Long Run: Leading Struggling Students into the Reading Life

by Sara Osborne

by

87

Gregory Soderberg, PhD 91

THE CONSORTIUM

A Journal of Classical Christian Education

Toward a More Certain Knowledge of Truth

by Scott Postma, PhD

Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn published his short manifesto to the Russian people, “Live Not By Lies,” in 1974, just before he was arrested and exiled to the West. In his paper, he argued that “the simplest, the most accessible key to our liberation: a personal nonparticipation in lies! Even if all is covered by lies, even if all is under their rule, let us resist in the smallest way: Let their rule hold not through me!”1

The relevance of Solzhenitsyn’s plea at the end of the twentieth century is not lost on those of us living in the West in the twenty-first century, given that as of this writing there have been more than 200k copies sold of Rod Dreher’s book by the same title, Live Not By Lies, which was published in 2020. Dreher’s book opens with an epigraph by Solzhenitsyn that reminds the reader,

There always is this fallacious belief: ‘It would not be the same here; here such things are impossible.’ Alas, all the evil of the twentieth century is possible everywhere on earth. 2

1 Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, “Live Not By Lies,” The Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn Center, 2006, accessed October 20, 2023, https://www.solzhenitsyncenter.org/live-not-by-lies.

2 Aleksander Solzhenitsyn in Rod Dreher, Live Not By Lies: A Manual for Christian Dissidents (New York, NY: Sentinel, 2020), ix.

The evil of which Solzhenitsyn speaks and on which Dreher expounds in his book, is the cloaking of political violence in lies. In his manifesto, Solzhenitsyn writes:

When violence bursts onto the peaceful human condition, its face is flush with self-assurance, it displays on its banner and proclaims: “I am Violence! Make way, step aside, I will crush you!” But violence ages swiftly, a few years pass— and it is no longer sure of itself. To prop itself up, to appear decent, it will without fail call forth its ally—Lies. For violence has nothing to cover itself with but lies, and lies can only persist through violence. And it is not every day and not on every shoulder that violence brings down its heavy hand: It demands of us only a submission to lies, a daily participation in deceit—and this suffices as our fealty. 3

In our modern relativist society, one that is rife with such lies in the worst of cases but also a culture rooted in a social and religious pluralism in the best of cases, the perennial question Pilate asked Jesus, “What is truth?” is as remarkably relevant in our own day as it was in the ancient world and in every epoch in between. If we are not to live by lies, then being able to accurately apprehend and appreciate the truth is an essential quality of being fully human. It is the truth that will set us free.

Mortimer J. Adler notes in his essay, “Truth,” published in The Great Books of the Western World series, that throughout western thought a consensus for the definition of truth has been “an agreement or correspondence between the mind

3 Solzhenitsyn, “Live Not By Lies,” 1974.

and reality.”4 Yet, despite our western culture possessing such vast consensus on a definition for the concept of truth, there is still a lot of room for error and disagreement about what truth actually is—even among rational people. This is because “the agreement or correspondence between mind and reality may occur in the context of widely varying conceptions concerning the nature of the mind and of reality or being.”5 In other words, there are a lot of contingencies left open for consideration and interpretation so that a consensual definition is only the beginning point of a rational search for the truth; it is by no means an end point. Perhaps a few examples are in order to demonstrate.

First, there is the question of the nature of truth in terms of its residence. Does truth reside in the intellect or mind; or does it reside in the thing made or signified by the mind? Another way of asking might be: is the intellect the cause of a thing’s true nature or is the true nature of a thing the cause of knowledge of that thing in one’s intellect? To frame it in another way still: is it correct if we say that a painting, or story, or edifice is true if the thing painted, said, or created corresponds to the intellectual intent of the creator or author? Or is the truth in the thing itself and it is up to the quality of one’s intellect to perceive the knowledge of the truth it possesses? This is the age-old question of objectivity or subjectivity.

Aristotle argued that truth resided in the thought and whether or not the thing created corresponded to the intellect’s intent, the thing may be more or less approximated to the reality of the mind, but only that which was not created,

4 Robert Maynard Hutchins and Mortimer J. Adler, “Chapter 94: Truth,” essay in The Great Ideas: A Syntopicon of Great Books of the Western World, vol. 2 (Chicago, IL: W. Benton, 1952), 915–938, 916.

5 Hutchins and Adler, A Syntopicon, vol. 2, 916.

or said, or built, for example, could be said to be false. Aquinas, on the other hand, argued that there were primary and secondary truths: the truth of the mind was a primary truth and the truth of the thing which was supposed to correspond to the mind was a secondary truth. Aquinas also conceded that this argument does not hold all the way through. He believed that it only holds in the human sphere, not in the divine sphere. Divine truth is of a different nature than that of human conceptions of truth, since divine truth is God, the “principle and source of all truth.” And since divine truth has no source of its own, the distinction between that which is and is not created, communicated, or built does not affect the nature of the truth. It is true whether it exists in the mind of God only as a divine intellectual conception, or if it exists as a corporeality since its source is absolute and immutable. Next, there is the whole question of the nature of truth as property of the symbol (i.e., speech, writing, or creative act) which connects the intellectual conception to the thing created, stated, or signified. On one hand, there is the question of whether the words or symbols themselves possess truth apart from the mind or thought that uses them to communicate an idea or concept. And, what is the nature of truth then if the idea or thought is in fact false even though a true word or symbol was used to communicate the idea? And what about the thing created when a true word is used to communicate a false idea? In an illustrative sense, we can see these numerous contingencies about the nature of truth as a property of symbol in syllogisms whose premises may or may not be true and whose logic may or may not be valid. For this reason, validity alone cannot guarantee a conclusion is in fact true; neither can true premises guarantee a true conclusion when the logic is invalid.

Without getting too much deeper into the weeds than we already are, it would merit pointing out that there are even more contingencies at play when we consider the standard or criteria by which we seek to know whether our minds are actually corresponding to reality. Kant and Hume raised this issue to the point of utter skepticism. To state it more succinctly, we must ask the essential question: by what standard or criteria is one able to make an assessment of the mind’s correspondence to reality? The mathematician, the psychologist, the pragmatist, and the moral philosopher (including the skeptic) will all unwittingly assume, and therefore use, different criteria for certifying truth. Mathematics, for example, in that they are purely formal, can be determined to be true or not true without reference to corporeality. And a priori truth is determined in a manner distinct from the criteria for the certitude of empirical truth. Add to this the potentialities for human error in judgment or a bias of the will due to maturity, experience, motive, or even one’s education, and the contingencies for the criteria of determining what is true and what is not just grew exponentially more vast. Oh wretched men that we are; who shall deliver us from the myriad contingencies impeding our desired certainty for the knowledge of truth and falsehood?

Regardless of what some may call truth’s spurious nature, the founders of our nation, men who were all aware, and well versed in the few contingencies previously described, still asserted that some truths were self-evident, namely “that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.” The self-evident truth to which they refer is called transcendent truth —truth whose very being is unaffected by time, space, or contingen-

cies regarding its nature. These men would argue such truths are axiomatic, that which Descartes attempted to establish by cognition alone. Moreover, transcendent truth defines the world while remaining unable to be defined by the world. Transcendent truth is what we believe before we attempt to determine whether or not anything else is true. Nevertheless, there are still some skeptics who find transcendent truth dubious and challenge its self-evident nature (e.g., “all bachelors are single men” is mere tautology, a restating of the definition we constructed).

For the Christian, transcendent truth is accepted revelation about the being of God who created a divinely-ordered cosmos. Transcendent truth is actually more than an a priori abstraction because Christ, by taking up human flesh, revealed to the world that he is the truth, the way, and the life. St. John testified that the Word (i.e., Logos or Divine Truth) became flesh and dwelt among the disciples who beheld his glory, as of the only begotten of the Father. Said another way, while much of the West is still grappling with establishing a consensus on the definition and nature of truth, Christians know the Truth is a person, and those who know the Truth will be set free. So, when Pilate asked Jesus, what is truth? The answer to his question was standing right in front of his face. This is why it is important to think Christianly about the renewal of Classical Education.

In this issue of the Consortium, we have highlighted a number of essays that address the matter of truth not only from a classical perspective but from a Christ-centered perspective about classical thought. In the first essay, Christine Norvell guides the reader through an analysis of Seneca’s views on virtue and demonstrates how Christian thought transcends Stoic virtue. Dr. Chris Swanson’s essay follows with a treat-

ment of the great alliance between faith and truth giving assurance they are not opposed or mutually exclusive. Drew Mery takes up the use of darkness and light in Boethius’ Consolation of Philosophy and Dante’s Divine Comedy to demonstrate the important conception of truth in classical and Christian poetic and philosophical literature. Next, two scholars, Dr. Bryant Owens and Dr. Karla Memmott, explore the means of knowing truth through Socratic dialogue. The former focuses on the objectivity of truth in the diversity of thought while the latter focuses on the importance of humility in Socratic dialogue. Finally, the issue concludes with two book reviews of great importance to classical Christian educators. The first is Dr. Sean Hadley’s review of a “modern classic” on the subject of Christians reading pagan literature, Louis Markos’ From Achilles to Christ: Why Christians Should Read the Pagan Classics. The second is Dr. Gregory Soderberg’s review of a much more recent work, Sara Osborne’s Reading for the Long Run: Leading Struggling Students into the Reading Life.

On behalf of the editorial board, and the entire Consortium of Classical Educators, we hope you enjoy Vol. 2, Issue 2 (Winter Issue) of The Consortium: A Journal of Classical Christian Education and find the material here profitable for your part in the much needed recovery of this tried and true approach to education in the twenty-first century.

Dr. Scott Postma Editor in Chief Editorial Advisory Board

Dr. Scott Postma– Editor in Chief

Dr. Robert M. Woods– Senior Contributing Editor

Dr. Gregory Soderberg– Contributing Editor

Considering the Roots of Classical Christian Education

by Christine Norvell, M.A.

When I was 10, my family moved from the city to the country where my dad built a huge half acre garden bounded by the woods in rural Mississippi. My sister and I quickly found out how much work that involved. More than one humid summer morning was spent pulling piles of tiny weeds between rows. We had to pull weeds before we picked beans or squash or tomatoes. Weeds came first, many times because they sprouted before the vegetables.

Weeds have roots, many times clever roots, roots that branch, that rebuild insidiously after being torn out. They grow as if they are something fruitful, but they are utter thieves, stealing from the herbs and perennials that we want to flourish.

Roots are undeniably important in anything that we tend. The difficulty lies in accurately identifying what we see growing. If I cannot identify the plant by its fruits, how do I know what roots to tend or to tear out? This is the same question I have been considering when I look at the roots of classical Christian education. In what is classical Christian education rooted? Is it truth or falsehood? Are those roots producing what we want?

Born in first-century Spain, the Stoic philosopher Seneca considered these very things in his writings. He knew education was critical as was its fruit. In “On Liberal and Vocational Studies,” Seneca spoke of the liberal arts. He used the term “liberal” or “generous” study. He defined it as “that which gives a man his liberty.” These are the liberal arts. They are generous because they deal with “the study of wisdom, and that is lofty, brave, and great-souled. All other subjects are puny and puerile…”1

Not everyone agrees with Seneca’s definition. For some, liberal arts should be a sprinkling of every kind of knowledge available. Seneca would disagree. He felt that those who do not believe in the generous study of wisdom should at least choose to study a subject because it can make men good; unfortunately, many men do not even profess or aim at a knowledge of what makes a man good. 2 They do believe in acquiring knowledge in order to get something. In our society today, knowledge is for acquiring a GPA, credentials, a degree, a job, a title, money—not to make a man good.

Seneca wondered if the better question to ask would be what kind of study leads to virtue, this goodness. In essence, like Aristotle, he believed virtue could be the fruit of learning. But he did not leave us with an undefined statement. How we learn is crucial; thus Seneca clearly models what that education looks like through the types of questions we may ask and what we learn from the lives we study.

Seneca said we could investigate whether Homer or Hesiod was the older poet… We could determine whether Achil-

1 Seneca, “On Liberal and Vocational Studies,” in The Great Tradition: Classic Readings on What It Means to Be an Educated Human Being, ed. Richard M. Gamble (Wilmington, DE: ISI Books, 2007), 98.

2 Seneca, “On Liberal and Vocational Studies,” 99.

les or Patroclus are a certain age. We could ask where did Odysseus really travel, where did he stray into storm after storm. But why? Why not “prevent ourselves from going astray?… We have no leisure to hear lectures on the question of whether Odysseus was sea-tost between Italy and Sicily, or outside our unknown world.” 3 Why should we? As Seneca noted,

But we ourselves encounter storms of the spirit, which toss us daily, and our depravity drives us into all the ills which troubled Odysseus. For us, there is never lacking the beauty to tempt our eyes, or the enemy to assail us; on this side are savage monsters, on that the treacherous allurements of the ear, and yonder is shipwreck and all the varied category of misfortunes. Show me rather, by the example of Odysseus, how I am to love my country, my wife, my father, and how, even after suffering shipwreck, I am to sail to these honorable ends. 4

Seneca continues, and I paraphrase, consider the musician. You sir, teach me how the treble and bass are in accord, and how the strings produce different notes; the result is harmony; rather bring my soul into harmony with itself. Let my purposes not be out of tune. You show me the doleful keys; show me rather how in the midst of adversity I may keep from uttering a doleful note… The mathematician teaches me how to lay out the dimensions of my estate; but I should rather be taught how to lay out what is enough for a man to own. What good is there for me in knowing how to parcel out a piece of land, if I know not how to share it with my brother?5

3 Seneca, “On Liberal and Vocational Studies,” 99.

4 Seneca, “On Liberal and Vocational Studies,” 99.

5 Seneca, “On Liberal and Vocational Studies,” 99–100.

Seneca addresses the lawyer, the astronomer, and others, essentially asking the same question: what benefit is our knowledge if we don’t know how to live? Does our pursuit of knowledge nourish virtue? He answers “No.” All of this knowledge contributes toward equipping a life, but it cannot solicit virtue.

The potential is there. The conditions are ripe. These things can prepare the soul for truth and hopefully a virtue that will be a fruit of those words. They are the potentials of good soil and good growing conditions. All of the liberal studies can “prepare the soul for the reception of virtue.” It all sounds good. Seneca makes perfect sense. The soul must be formed to receive.

Seneca’s critical line of questioning, however, begs another question. What is his root, his core belief? What does he believe about the soul? Seneca writes, “The only thing in life that actually matters and is worth caring about is the self, that is, the soul; that whether one has a good life or not crucially depends only on factors which affect the soul; and that in order to have a good life we need wisdom, that is, a certain kind of knowledge of what is good and bad.”6 This is Seneca's critical primary root, his view of the soul. As Christ-followers, the soul is central to our beliefs, too, but is Seneca’s view of the soul a root or weed?

For the Stoics, this wisdom, this kind of knowledge is virtue, and the various virtues the Greeks traditionally distinguished are aspects of that knowledge. Virtue alone is the good for the Stoics, and it should be sufficient for happiness. The Stoics’ version is the most extreme conception of virtue to be found in antiquity. For the Stoics, “to be virtuous

6 Tobias Reinhardt, “Introduction,” Seneca: Dialogues and Essays (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008). xi.

means to be perfectly rational and to know both how to act in private life and with respect to one’s friends, business associates, fellow citizens.” 7 They assumed that human beings are naturally endowed with inclinations toward virtue and that humans are naturally conditioned or programmed by what is called affinity, our natural likes, and that helps us acquire those behavior patterns. 8

The Stoics did believe in a perfect order to the universe, which is governed and organized by a supremely rational intellect, whose influence extends from cosmic events down to minute and trivial occurrences in the world around us. This rational intellect is commonly called nature or God or Zeus, yet belief in Fate also played a part.9 The Stoics agreed with Socrates that we have to have knowledge of certain facts. We need to be sure that what we think we know we really do know. We need to have a theory which explains how all this is possible. This is the difference between opinion and knowledge. These are the basic beliefs of Stoicism. Again, Seneca said, “The only thing in life that actually matters is the soul; that whether one has a good life or not crucially depends only on factors which affect the soul; and that in order to have a good life we need wisdom, that is, a certain kind of knowledge of what is good and bad.” But, according to the Stoics, we are inclined towards virtue which implies that we are born with a good nature, not a sinful one. Yes, we have a soul, and Seneca rightly knew that was a key belief, a root in education.

7 Tobias Reinhardt, “Introduction,” xii.

8 Tobias Reinhardt, “Introduction,” xii.

9 Tobias Reinhardt, “Introduction,” xii.

Seneca’s acknowledgment of the soul and his many writings about choice and behavior gave him a high reputation from ancient times throughout the Middle Ages. This is often attributed to the fact that “the Latin church fathers discovered him for themselves.”10 His view of virtue can be aligned with the theological virtues. The ideas of the virtues, the soul being central, and the act of getting wisdom echoes throughout the book of Proverbs. Virtue alone is the good for the Stoic, and it was likened to the fruits of the Spirit.

In his essay “On the Happy Life,” for example, Seneca talks about the differences between virtue and pleasure. His concepts easily mirror biblical ones about the fleeting pleasure of sin. Seneca writes,

Virtue is something lofty, elevated, regal, unconquerable, and untiring. Pleasure is something lowly and slavish, weak and indestructible. Virtue you will find in a temple, in the Forum, in the Senate house, standing in front of the city walls. Pleasure you will find more often lurking out of sight and searching for Darkness around the baths, sweating rooms and places that fear… The highest good is found in the very act of choosing virtue.11

For many in the Christian tradition, this sounds similar to resisting sin or temptation—to turn away from and choose. Seneca further maintains “In virtue resides moderation. True happiness, therefore, resides in virtue.”12

True happiness resides in virtue? Is this the happiness we seek? Augustine tells us that happiness is limiting. If we

10 Tobias Reinhardt, “Introduction,” xxvi.

11 Seneca, “On the Happy Life,” 90, 92.

12 Seneca, “On the Happy Life,” 96, 98.

Considering the Roots of Classical Christian Education

“place our hope of happiness in man or angel”, and I believe, in ourselves, then we have ignored the joy of “Him who made you [us] happy.”13

According to Seneca, the soul is the most important thing we should care about. A Christian can agree with this. We need wisdom to have a good life. The Christian tradition agrees. To be virtuous means to be perfectly rational and to know both how to act at home and in public. But everything in the Stoic universe is based on man’s ability to choose well since man is the center. Yes, the gods or nature can gift humans with wisdom but for Seneca happiness, virtue, knowledge are determined by the self. Though many of his writings are foundational to classical education, Seneca’s views are partial roots to classical Christian education. They are partially true. His ideas have the potential to pull us away from Christ if we seek to equip our soul on our own.

In Learning to Love: Christian Higher Education as Pilgrimage, Alex Sosler extends this concept of knowledge, and seems to connect the Stoic with Christ. He describes knowledge as a sacramental gift. Sosler echoes Saint Basil of Caesarea who imagined the world as a school where we learn about God because knowledge is a gift from Him.14 This is the key. Knowledge did not simply appear by nature, Fate, Zeus, or by the pursuit of it alone. Man is not his own source, no matter how much he thinks he is. If we think we are our own source, that idea is a weed.

Perhaps Seneca knew of a divine source of knowledge in some way. He was a contemporary of Christ, and at the

13 Augustine, “In What Way Should Man Be Enjoyed,” On Christian Teaching, trans. J. F. Shaw (Digireads, 2009), 20.

14 Alex Sosler, Learning to Love: Christian Higher Education as Pilgrimage (Beaver Falls, PA: Falls City Press, 2023), 108–112.

very least, likely knew Christ’s words since Seneca lived until 65 AD. In Luke 2, as a child, Jesus was filled with wisdom. Because Jesus was the first born male, Mary and Joseph traveled from Nazareth to Jerusalem to consecrate him within the first month of life. Anna and Simeon prophesied over him then the family returned to Nazareth. “And the child grew and became strong, filled with wisdom. And the favor of God was upon him” (Luke 2:40, ESV). What did it take for Jesus to increase this way? What training did he have in his local synagogue? Like Seneca, did pursuing knowledge prepare his soul to receive wisdom? What kind of wisdom is this? In the same chapter may lie the answer in his family’s annual visit to Jerusalem for Passover:

And when he was twelve years old, they went up according to custom. And when the feast was ended, as they were returning, the boy Jesus stayed behind in Jerusalem. His parents did not know it, but supposing him to be in the group they went a day's journey, but then they began to search for him among their relatives and acquaintances, and when they did not find him, they returned to Jerusalem, searching for him. After three days they found him in the temple, sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions. And all who heard him were amazed at his understanding and his answers (Luke 2:42–50, ESV).

After his consecration in the temple, Luke 2 began with “And the child grew and became strong, filled with wisdom. And the favor of God was upon him.” After his parents returned to Jerusalem, Jesus “kept increasing in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and men” (Luke 2:52, ESV). Luke repeats himself. He created bookends. Jesus kept increasing in wisdom. Every Jewish boy who had completed his

bar mitzvah would be in the temple, receiving the blessing of the rabbis. Jesus grew in wisdom of the Torah and in obedience to the mitzvot, the commandments. As a young man at the age of 12, he was reasoning with adults because he had been trained that way and because he was comfortable with what he knew.15

Nor was this the last time Jesus left others “astonished at his understanding and answers.” In Matthew 7 after he delivered the Sermon on the Mount, “When Yeshua had finished saying these things, the crowds were amazed at the way he taught, for he was not instructing them like their Torah -teachers but as one who had authority himself” (Matthew 7:28–29, CJB). In John 7 at the Feast of Tabernacles, Pharisees and chief priests sent guards to take Jesus, but the guards came back empty-handed, saying, “No one ever spoke the way this man speaks!” (John 7:46, CJB) These guards or officers would likely be Levites. Perhaps some remembered Jesus from twenty years earlier. Later, Acts 6 states that “A great many of the priests were becoming obedient to the faith” (Acts 6:7, ESV). Christ’s wisdom and its fruit is clear. Jesus had not just knowledge of subjects, but knowledge of life-giving scripture, always connected to the health of his soul and the Father he knew intimately.

Our beliefs become clear when we are questioned, when we explain, when we defend. This is what we hope for each student in every classroom, every grade. It is where we root, what soil we root in. And we hope it strengthens those roots.

In Mark 4, Jesus recounts how a farmer sowed his seed in four places: alongside a path where birds ate it immediately, on rocky ground with little soil and thus shallow roots,

15 David Stern, “Jewish Customs,” CJB, 1475–1476.

among thorns that choked out the seed, and into rich soil which “produced grain; it sprouted, and grew, and yielded a crop—thirty, sixty, even a hundred times what was sown.”

Jesus patiently explained that “the sower sows the message. Those alongside the path where the message is sown are people who no sooner hear it than the Adversary comes and takes away the message sown in them. Likewise, those receiving seed on rocky patches are people who hear the message and joyfully accept it at once; but they have no root in themselves. So they hold out for a while, but as soon as some trouble or persecution arises on account of the message, they immediately fall away.” The other seeds are choked out by worldly distractions, “but those sown on rich soil hear the message, accept it and bear fruit—thirty, sixty or a hundredfold” (Mark 4:14–20, CJB, emphasis mine).

Seneca would ask us if we were happy. True happiness resides in virtue, he said, and virtue resides in moderation. Seneca and the Stoics understood the fruit of self-control. Moderation, however, rests on man’s ability to choose well. Man must strive and fail and strive again. For the Stoics, our habits and behavior will eventually change if we keep trying to moderate our behavior. We depend on ourselves.

Yet as Jesus said, “they have no root in themselves.”

The young plants were the ones the sun scorched because their roots weren’t deep. Or the weeds and thorns choked the plants because they weren’t strong enough. The roots did not have what they needed.

Rather than ask “Am I happy? Am I virtuous?”, why not ask “Am I fruitful?” Christ is our source, not ourselves. Augustine believed that happiness could only be truly seen or felt if we acknowledge that it is God in man that brings happiness. We want to be rooted in Him, not in the cares of this

world, because “those sown on rich soil hear the message, accept it and bear fruit—thirty, sixty or a hundredfold.” Let us be one who is rooted in Christ and who develops and tends the soil to make it rich for our children, our students. Let us help pull weeds, clear away the rocks and thorns of distractions, to dig deep and water seeds of all the knowledge God has prepared for us because any knowledge we claim to have is a gift from Him. ⸭

Christine Norvell has taught in classical, home school, and public education for over twenty years. She serves as Upper School Dean and a high school humanities teacher for Sager Classical Academy in Siloam Springs, Arkansas. With an M.A. in Humanities from Faulkner University’s Great Books program and a B.S. in English Education, Christine is a senior contributor at The Imaginative Conservative and has written for University Bookman, Mere Orthodoxy, Front Porch Republic, StoryWarren, and others. She is the author of Till We Have Faces: A Reading Companion (2020).

Truth is Faith's Greatest Ally

by Chris Swanson, PhD

Truth is a casualty of our modern era. Not only is knowing the truth challenging, but even seeking the truth is getting harder. Our culture has assumptions and structures that positively discourage developing the habit of truth seeking. Shortcuts, soundbites, and cynicism leave us in a desolate land where truth has few friends.

A reporter from the Wall Street Journal recently said this about ChatGPT, a new artificial intelligence program that answers questions like a human:

ChatGPT makes mistakes: It directed me to a nonexistent study while I researched this column. But whether ChatGPT is “right” misses the point… “What a large language model is trying to do is not to provide correct answers, but pleasing answers,” said Jim Manzi, a partner at Foundry.ai, which develops AI applications for business. “Its job is to anthropomorphize, to give answers people like.”1

Friedrich Hayek, in his famous treatise on economics, The Road to Serfdom, wrote a chapter called “The End of Truth.”

1 Greg Ip, “The Robots Have Finally Come For My Job,” Wall Street Journal, April 2023, https://www.wsj.com/articles/the-robots-have-finally-come-for-my-job-34a69146.

There he argues that the habit of truthfulness can easily be destroyed in a culture by over emphasizing economic and political outcomes. When such outcomes take precedence, those goals enslave messaging and words, destroying truth. In public schools and universities, students are told over and over that truth is relative or has been replaced by agendas. Such a claim is counterproductive, however, since it undermines education. School becomes a hoop to jump through or a means to self-validation. As truth is devalued, the intellectual space of our lives is filled with lies and half truths. Truth is still there to be found, but one must dig vigorously through the mountains of deceit.

The West’s path that led to the devaluation of truth is long and incredibly complex. However, it is worth a brief examination of a couple of key developments that drove this change. The first was the Enlightenment. The central goal of the Enlightenment thinkers was to replace the old authorities of Greek scholarship and the church with the new authority of individual reason. That goal encompassed nearly every intellectual endeavor: science, ethics, politics, economics, philosophy, and even theology. It spurred an enormous output of creative energy in an attempt to solve man’s social and philosophical problems, problems that had once been addressed by the traditions of Christianity and Greek philosophy. The vast outpouring of work produced brilliant new insights but also vigorous debate. For each idea, later thinkers inevitably found some deep inconsistency or unsupportable assumption. Every solution offered fell short, and the confident enthusiasm for reason celebrated by Descartes, Kant, and Comte began to die. Finally in 1914, the first world war put the nail in the coffin. Reason was no longer the path to truth. In fact there was no truth, no story to give purpose to life. People were

no longer magnificent creatures of God, given the gift of rational and moral thought to pursue the truths of a good Creator. Instead they were animals, subject to forces they did not understand and could not control. Power supplanted charity, despair replaced hope, randomness overcame design, and the subconscious displaced the will. The world of Nietzsche, Sartre, Darwin, and Freud was indeed bleak. The twentieth century thus inherited a situation ripe for the second main development in the demise of truth, propaganda. A new spirit of power and control gained ascendancy as the guardrails of absolutes and human purpose were thrown aside. Sociologist Jacques Ellul showed that with the advancement of technology, social bonds of local community, religion, and family were breaking down to be replaced by mass society. People became homogenized, reduced to consumers or workers with only basic appetites in common. This is the ideal environment for propaganda. In fact, “mass man” was not only susceptible to propaganda, but needed it to find some sense of purpose and moral foundation in a pluralistic world. Thus Germany, the Soviet Union, China, and the US all began to perfect the means of mass persuasion and control. Soon, however, they found that they were not masters, but slaves of propaganda. The powers were subservient to the means of propaganda to maintain power. If efficient propaganda countered the goals of these great powers, those goals had to change, for otherwise they would lose control. Utopian communistic society became brutal totalitarianism. In the US the techniques were, if anything, more sophisticated since there were two parties vying for power instead of one. To win became all encompassing, and “what” was won became secondary. In such an environment, truth could not be allowed

to flourish, for truth was not compatible with the means of power and control.

Today, the use of propaganda and the devaluation of truth is broader and deeper than it ever was in the twentieth century. But as Christians, we must understand “the world” and resist it. We are called to be truth seekers and to defy the cultural devaluation of truth. Over and over, God calls the Israelites to worship Him, the true God, and not to worship false gods. Jesus claims, somewhat enigmatically, to “be” the truth. Paul is constantly reminding his readers to remember the truth of what was preached to them and not to embrace false teaching. But in the midst of a culture of cynicism, relativism, lies, and propaganda, what possible hope is there for finding the truth?

Perhaps we can look to the past. But despite the very long relationship between the truths of God and the knowledge of men, Israelites and Christians have often gone astray seeking polytheistic idolatry, Greek philosophy, Enlightenment rationality, and materialism. History can provide good insights and lessons, but it is not always a reliable guide in the search for truth.

Perhaps we can look to science and secular experts. But that is also a mixed bag. Secular teaching is vast, fascinating, difficult, sometimes ennobling, and sometimes destructive. It is impossible to ignore and impossible to embrace. Because we are finite, we cannot know everything. In fact, the more we learn, the more we realize how much we do not know. The sheer quantity of knowledge can be demoralizing; after all, we can learn only a few drops in the bucket of knowledge, and many of the drops are muddied with falsehood.

Our knowledge may be limited, but what is important— indeed vitally important—is not how much we know but

Truth is Faith's Greatest Ally

rather our attitude toward the truth. The mark of a believer is a person’s orientation to truth. It is not for nothing that Satan is called the father of lies. A truth seeker believes that God is the author of truth and has given us tools to know Him, His creation, and ourselves. He revealed His word to us so that we might know Him and gave us minds so that we might learn. An attitude of resistance to the truth is thus a rejection of Him. It is a way to hide from what He has given us to know.

So what is a healthy and godly approach to truth? I would like to examine three ways that pursuing truth is an ally to our faith: understanding the Bible, understanding our cultural heritage, and understanding ourselves.

Pursuing the Truth in the Bible

The Bible is our best source of truth and our best aid to faith. But it is not always understood correctly. The Pharisees of Jesus’ time provide a clear example of the significance of failing to understand the Scriptures. Throughout the Gospels, Jesus criticized the Pharisees’ understanding. They read the law of Moses and mistakenly thought that God desired rigid obedience to law. They followed the letter of the law but not its spirit. In addressing this, Jesus said, “Now go and learn what this means: ‘I desire compassion, rather than sacrifice’” (Matthew 9:13, NASB). The Pharisees read the Scriptures poorly, which prevented them from knowing the truth. Understanding the Bible is difficult. It was written at a time and in a culture that differs vastly from our own. It was written in complex foreign languages. It was written in the

form of stories, poetry, prophecy, parable, and letters, most of which require hard work to interpret. God did not provide us with a systematic theology book to guide our understanding. It takes effort and skill to read the Bible well. It takes a recognition of our own assumptions. It takes tenacity and repeated exposure. Like all great works of literature, the meaning does not appear all at once or with a cursory read. It takes experience and repeated readings to develop an accurate framework for understanding the text.

Because of its importance and challenges, the Bible is the most carefully read book in all of history. But much of what we know about the Bible has been told to us, filtered through others in the form of doctrines and sermons. Importantly, not all teachers agree. And the many different interpretations and traditions cannot all be correct. Each of us misunderstands the Bible to some extent, and those misunderstandings can impede our living as God desires since they lead us to value things that God does not value and to pursue things God would not have us pursue. However, a deep desire for the truth should encourage us to seek out our misunderstandings and correct them.

In the end, our desire and will are more important than our scholarly ability. The Bible may be a complex book to interpret, but the task is impossible if we do not want to find out we are mistaken. The head and heart must be aligned, as challenging or scary as that may be. Pursuing the Bible is pursuing the truth, and that is not a safe activity, for it reveals to us our misunderstandings. But more importantly, it confronts us with our own sin. And there is no greater ally to faith than confronting our sin.

Pursuing the Truth about Our Cultural Beliefs

By necessity, we must discover the truths of the Bible from within the culture in which we find ourselves. In our case, we inhabit a largely secular culture. Thus, discerning the truth about our culture is as important—and difficult—as discerning the truth about the Bible. In fact, the two work closely together. If our framework for reading the Bible is composed of false cultural and religious assumptions, we will be led astray. At the same time, the poorer our understanding of the Bible, the harder it is for us to critique our cultural assumptions.

All of us have a set of assumptions by which we live our lives. Some call this a worldview; others a preunderstanding, framework, or paradigm. It is the water we swim in. We are all stuck with a framework, both articulated and unarticulated, that provides a lens through which we interpret our experiences and make decisions. In particular, this lens plays a critical role in our faith. It sets our priorities and guides our actions and words. If faith is the desire and inclination to trust and follow God, our framework of beliefs is directing that desire.

The question is not whether we have a framework but whether the one that we have matches reality. Unfortunately, a huge portion of our beliefs comes from our culture. We soak up our beliefs like a sponge absorbs water. Thus an examination of our culture is at the same time an examination of the truth about ourselves and the people we live with.

Since we live inside our culture, we must look for ways to find a vantage point outside. One of the best ways to do that is to look at our culture’s origins and assumptions by

exploring influential writings of the past. We can compare our current views with previous views, holding them side by side. Such an examination opens the mind to possibilities and enables critique. We are not hopelessly bound to our current framework—even though many modern people say we are. Because God created reality, we can be confident that there is a true and coherent picture about the world, man, society, and God. By comparing frameworks and ideas, we are pursuing the truth.

We may be capable of learning from the writings of the past, but should we? Previous cultural perspectives may be no better than our own. So, one might argue, for all the good in our tradition, much is also bad, and engaging in such a study may leave us worse off than before; thus we need to protect ourselves from false ideas. (Intellectual protectionism is certainly a growing fad on both the left and right.) For children, some protection is justified based on the age-appropriateness of the information. And even for adults, some protection from those who could prey upon our weaknesses is appropriate. For example, we want to protect ourselves from debased ideas and images that enflame our passions of fear, lust, and envy. Unfortunately, however, most “protection” from the ideas that formed our culture usually takes the form of social control, especially when accompanied by methods such as censorship, indoctrination, and shaming. But our past informs our present, and so it is worthwhile to explore our heritage. Our own beliefs and the beliefs of those around us stem from past ideas. We cannot step outside our own framework if we are ignorant of how it was formed.

At Gutenberg College, we read and discuss the classics of our culture, including many books that run counter to the Bible. The authors make significant claims about our world

Truth is Faith's Greatest Ally

that simply are not true. On the other hand, some of what they say is true and amazing. In either case, true or false, it is what we have been bequeathed. A sober examination of our culture in light of our past is an important avenue to a more accurate framework and, consequently, an ally to faith.

Pursuing the Truth about Ourselves

The third way that seeking the truth aids our faith is through knowing ourselves. We do this by reflecting on our innermost desires, purposes, goals, and the deepest beliefs of our heart. Through self-reflection, we become aware of our sin and mistakes so that we might mourn them and seek God’s help.

I know from personal experience how easy it is to hide from myself and justify my actions. We all bury things that are too painful to confront. We explain away our own failures. We run from the truth. Only through the great act of God’s mercy can we begin to turn our sights on what God designed us for.

This dynamic of resistance to self-knowledge is commonplace in the Bible. The Pharisees were notorious for their failure to understand themselves. In their zeal for the law, they did not see their lack of love and mercy toward others. Jesus points this out in a story about a Pharisee. “The Pharisee stood and began praying this in regard to himself: ‘God, I thank You that I am not like other people’” (Luke 18:11, NASB). Their hearts were hard toward the truth about themselves. And the problem is just as severe with believers as with non-believers. Peter lacked self-knowledge when he

claimed that he would never deny Jesus, even though Jesus said he would do so three times. Peter’s denial of Jesus was deeply humbling for him; he learned a truth about himself.

Like other pursuits of truth, seeking the truth about ourselves is hard. We resist it by constructing various stories or realities, often to satisfy some unrighteous desire or as a form of protection from pain. These stories run deep and are hard to recognize and even harder to change. But we are called to change, to be “transformed by the renewing of [our] minds,” as Paul says in Romans 12:2. Fortunately, God works in our lives with patient loving-kindness to bring us to self-knowledge so that we might mourn for our own sin. He takes us on a journey of faith.

But we do not journey alone. God provides many tools and aids. He provides us with His Word. He gives us mental faculties to learn. He confronts us with suffering. He provides us with relationships and tasks that reveal our hard hearts. He brings other believers into our lives to correct or encourage us. And then we have a choice: We can use these gifts to confront the truth about ourselves, or we can reject the truth. To seek and accept the truth, even when it is hard, deepens our faith in God.

Finding the truth is a lifetime task. It is part of our journey of faith. Knowing the truth is not the same as having faith, but it is the greatest ally along our path. It leads us toward God because God is truth. We know that lies abound in our world and that we have surely absorbed and believed many of them. But we have no need to fear. As long as we are wanting what is true and seeking it avidly, God will reward us.

Chris Swanson was one of the founders of Gutenberg College and has been teaching there since its inception in 1994. In 2016, he became the second president of the college. His teaching has focused on the history and philosophy of mathematics and science. He has a B.S. in physics and mathematics and both an M.S. and PhD in physics. He has also done post-doctoral research at the University of Oregon and taught at Westmont College in California. He is the author of Education As If People Mattered which makes the case for classical Christian higher education.

Images of Truth

Light and Darkness in Boethius’ Consolation of Philosophy and Dante’s Divine Comedy

by Drew Mery, M.A.

In reading The Consolation of Philosophy and the Divine Comedy, one cannot miss the recurring imagery of light and darkness. Their repetition emphasizes their importance in these literary masterpieces. So, what do light and darkness symbolize and reinforce in these writings? By answering this question, we may better understand and appreciate these authors’ artistry and overarching message, as well as its application in our lives. In what follows, I argue that light symbolizes knowledge, truth, reason, and virtue, while darkness symbolizes their opposites: ignorance, falsehood, destructive emotions, and vice.

Manuel Aguirre’s analysis of the imagery in the Consolation follows this same line of thought, giving good reason to investigate and develop further these two elements: “Two prevalent images in the Consolation are those of light for knowledge and darkness for ignorance; subsidiary images shape a semantic field involving blindness, veils, night, clouds, mist

and correspondingly sight, day, sun.”1 As we will see, essentially the same thing can be said about Dante’s Comedy.

I have chosen to compare these two works on this thesis because of Boethius’ known influence on Dante. Boethius wrote during the sixth century shortly after the fall of the Western Roman Empire. Dante’s Comedy was written in the fourteenth century and helped influence the Italian Renaissance. According to John Marenbon, the Consolation was widely studied during the medieval period, especially the twelfth century, and was translated into other languages. It was particularly influential on vernacular poets, such as Dante, Boccaccio, and Chaucer. 2 In fact, Boethius is referenced in lines 124–126 of Book X of Paradiso, just not by name. It is here that Boethius is said to be he who “sees all good” and shows people “how deceitful the world is.”3 Dante and Boethius also have in common a high regard for the classical poets and philosophers, as will be seen throughout this paper. Needless to say, there is a bond between these men and their writings, and therefore it will be of benefit to study them together. Rather than analyze each book in turn and then draw out similarities at the end, I have divided my analysis into various thematic sections that are representative of both. This allows me to address both works in tandem, making their commonalities stand out more clearly.

1 Manuel Aguirre, “The Sovereignty of Wisdom: Boethius’ Consolation in the Light of Folklore,” Mnemosyne 65, no. 4–5 (2012): 684, https://brill.com/view/journals/mnem/ 65/4-5/article-p674_8.xml

2 John Marenbon, Boethius (Oxford University Press, 2003), 172–173.

3 Dante, The Divine Comedy, ed. David H. Higgins, trans. Charles H. Sisson (Oxford University Press, 2008), 680–681.

Images of Truth

Guiding Lights

Light, of course, must have a source, and numerous sources are utilized by both authors in similar ways. These sources include both persons and natural elements. A key way in which these light sources are utilized is in the manner of progression, corresponding to their natures.

Lady Philosophy serves as Boethius’ guide, leading him out of the darkened state of his mind. In this, she serves as a source of light—a source of truth and understanding. As Aguirre says, “Her ‘medicine’… is to his ‘sickness’ what light is to darkness and rational argument to ignorance…”4 As light dispels darkness, so Lady Philosophy dispels the foolish and earthly thoughts of Boethius in his moment of trial. This is made explicit when Boethius speaks to her as “our guide to the true light.”5 In Consolation 1.6.21, Boethius is said to have adopted false beliefs resulting in clouded thinking through emotional disturbances, what Robert McMahon refers to as “darknesses.”6 The problem is that Boethius “has forgotten how and to what end the world is guided, and his own identity within it.” 7 It is Lady Philosophy’s task to clear away the darkness caused by these “deceiving emotions” so that he will be able to see “the brightness of the true light.”

Lady Philosophy is the personification of classical wisdom and is associated with enlightenment, authority, protec-

4 Manuel Aguirre, “The Sovereignty of Wisdom,” 677.

5 Boethius, The Consolation of Philosophy, trans. with notes by Joel C. Relihan (Indianapolis, IN: Hackett Publishing Company, 2001) 4.1.2.

6 Robert Mcmahon, Understanding the Medieval Meditative Ascent: Augustine, Anselm, Boethius and Dante (Washington, D.C.: Catholic University of America Press, 2006) 215.

7 Boethius, The Consolation of Philosophy, notes by P. G. Walsh (Oxford University Press, 1999), 120.

tion, and guidance. 8 Therefore, Boethius sees philosophy as a source of light (reason) for his darkened state (destructive emotions) and personifies this with Lady Philosophy, just as wisdom is personified as a woman throughout the book of Proverbs (e.g. Prov. 4:5–9).

In the Inferno, Dante refers to Virgil as “the honor and light of other poets” (I.82), and he is given the honorary position of being counted among them (lines 83–87). Higgins regards Virgil as playing an allegorical role as “Reason,” thereby representing “the highest virtues of mankind before the enlightenment of Christianity.” 9 Virgil lives up to this designation as he faithfully guides Dante through the darkness of the Abyss, bringing the calm of reason to Dante’s fearful fits. Beatrice, too, serves as a light later in Dante’s journey, being described by Virgil as she “who lights the intellect to truth” (Purgatorio VI.45). Part of her purpose is to enable Dante’s vision to adjust to the brighter light of God. According to William Franke, Dante’s vision in Paradise is conveyed in shadows and refractions, seeing only what is “in the soullights that cover over and dim down the divine radiance.”10 The idea that it is conveyed in shadows may sound counterintuitive; however, what Franke is communicating is that the fullness of God’s light is initially experienced in a dimmed or veiled fashion. Dante is not yet able to look directly at the light of God but must allow his eyes to gradually adjust to his glory, just as we must do when we walk outside during midday after being in a dark room. This is especially evident in

8 Manuel Aguirre, “The Sovereignty of Wisdom,” 690.

9 Dante, The Divine Comedy, ed. David H. Higgins, trans. Charles H. Sisson, 502–503.

10 William Franke, Dante and the Sense of Transgression: ‘the Trespass of the Sign’ (London, England: Bloomsbury Publishing Plc, 2012), 79.

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Paradiso V where Beatrice says that her sight approaches “the apprehended good” (line 6) and refers to that light as “the eternal light” (line 7). Beatrice’s light, which is a refraction of the light of God, guides Dante into the fullness of the light of truth. David Higgins comments: “[The truth is] what is eternally true, the revealed truth of God as seen in His Word, Christ, and as found in Scripture and orthodox theology. This is the truth that Beatrice imparts, in her symbolic role as divine Wisdom.”11 So, while Beatrice’s light is said to be brighter than the sun (Paradiso X.40–43), she is nonetheless eclipsed by the light of God, in whose light Dante’s love for Beatrice is forgotten (X.58–60); for all lesser lights must ultimately end in the greatest of lights: “As the lesser is always outshone by the greater” (Purgatorio VII.78).

When we approach the Divine Comedy from the perspective of vertical reading (reading the cantos of the three books in parallel with each other), we see a clear progression of light sources. It progresses from a bonfire (Inferno IV), to the sun (Purgatorio IV), and ultimately to God (Paradiso IV). That is, as Dante journeys from Inferno to Purgatory to Paradise, things become brighter due to their proximity to God.12

There is also a comparison made between Apollo and God, as a lesser light to a greater light (V.2 m). Lady Philosophy quotes Homer in referring to Phoebus as one who “Sees all things and hears all things.” This refers to the light of the sun shining upon the earth, with the light representing knowledge. She counteracts this, however, with his inability to “pierce the depths of the earth and sea”—the sun’s light

11 Dante, The Divine Comedy, ed. David H. Higgins, trans. Charles H. Sisson, 663.

12 Wendy Raudenbush Olmsted, “Philosophical Inquiry and Religious Transformation in Boethius’s ‘The Consolation of Philosophy’ and Augustine’s ‘Confessions,’” The Journal of Religion 69, no. 1, 1989, pp. 14–35. Accessed April 21, 2021, www.jstor.org/stable/1204686.

does not penetrate all places. Not so with God; he “sees all, seated in the skies.” The last two lines of this metered section are especially enlightening, establishing this contrast between the two sources of light: “Since he alone all things can see, \ The title of ‘true sun’ he earns.” Whereas Phoebos Apollo is associated with the sun in Greco-Roman mythology, God is here said to be the true sun, the true source of light, having no limitations. P. G. Walsh remarks that the designation of “true sun” goes back to Plato’s notion of God “as sun and source of all light,” especially in Plato’s famous cave analogy in Book 7 of the Republic. 13 Further, Boethius seems to be presenting the philosophers (here represented by Plato) as superior to the poets (represented by Homer), which would certainly be consistent with Lady Philosophy’s castigation of the Muses of poetry in Book 1 (lines 7–11). After all, Boethius wrote The Consolation of Philosophy, not The Consolation of Poetry.

The Light of Nature, Or God’s Light Breaks Through

In Canto IV of Inferno, Dante encounters the classical poets and philosophers in Limbo. Their facial expressions are neither grief-stricken nor happy (line 84), which says something about their honored position as being less than paradise but greater than the dark and torturous circles of Hell. The mention of light, in one way or another, appears four times in this canto. First, there is the bonfire, which has already been briefly mentioned. On this, Dante says, “I caught sight of a

Images of Truth

fire \ Which carved for itself a hemisphere in the darkness” (lines 67–8)—a dome of light, like the star-speckled sky, casts its rays as if forming a shield from the darkness. According to Higgins, this light represents the light of nature, or the truths that can be known, especially about God, through creation alone (i.e. general or natural revelation). This light, he says, symbolizes “the intellect in its natural, pagan state.”14 This means that the hemisphere of light represents the discovered truths of pagan philosophers and poets through their contemplations of the cosmos and of humanity. Rays of God’s light break through in the created order, available for all to see. This is further seen in that Dante refers to Virgil as one “who honour[s] sciences and arts” (line 73), and he asks him why these honored ones are “separated from the others” (line 74). Virgil’s response is that their “honoured reputation” (line 76), by which he means the honored works they have produced, still benefits the living, and therefore “Wins grace in heaven, which gives them this advantage” (line 78).

Second, after Dante meets the four poet—Homer, Horace, Ovid, and Lucan—they continue “in the direction of the light” (line 103). This light emanates from a castle, encircled by seven high walls and a stream (lines 106–8). This seven-walled castle will be discussed below in the next section.

Third, after entering the castle, Dante says they moved to one side, to “an open place, well-lit, upon high ground” (line 115). It is here that Dante sees a plethora of historical and mythological figures of classical antiquity, to include poets, philosophers, military heroes, mathematicians, and scientists.15 When Dante raises his eyes higher, though, he

14 Dante, The Divine Comedy, ed. David H. Higgins, trans. Charles H. Sisson, 508–509.

15 Raymond Angelo Belliotti, Dante’s Deadly Sins: Moral Philosophy In Hell (Hoboken, NJ: Wiley-Blackwell, 2011), 57.

sees “the master of knowledge, Aristotle” (lines 130–2). Higgins remarks on Aristotle’s immense influence on medieval thought, especially with the scholastics in the areas of “natural history, metaphysics, ethics, and politics.”16 This suggests that Aristotle discovered much truth from the light of nature, and therefore was head and shoulders above others in knowledge and wisdom.

Lasty, as Dante and Virgil leave Limbo to descend into the lower circles of the Abyss, Dante speaks thus: “And I came to a part where nothing is luminous” (line 151). Here, the little light that exists in Limbo is emphasized by its absence elsewhere. It causes the reader to shudder at what lies ahead, and perhaps it was a temptation for Dante to remain where he was. At least in Limbo there was light and good company—virtuous and wise men. Now, Dante must descend into darkness where nothing is noble. The obvious import here is that the lower circles of Hell lack men of virtue and are characterized by greater degrees of punishment.

Dante believed, as did many after him, such as C. S. Lewis, J. R. R. Tolkien, and John Henry Newman, that “the light of God’s revelation shines (if dimly and intermittently) through the literary masterpieces of antiquity.”17 The limited nature of the light they provide, however, is evident in that Virgil cannot accompany Dante all the way in his journey; eventually, Beatrice must take over as guide.

The light of nature is more explicit in the Consolation, particularly due to it being a philosophical work. As Boethius recounts his earlier discourses with Lady Philosophy, prior to his imprisonment, on “knowledge of things human

16 Dante, The Divine Comedy, ed. David H. Higgins, trans. Charles H. Sisson, 510.

17 Louis Markos, From Achilles to Christ: Why Christians Should Read the Pagan Classics (Westmont, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2007), 250.

Images of Truth

and divine,” he refers to the probing of “the secrets of nature,” of tracing out “the paths of the stars,” and of having his character and course of life shaped “according to the patterns established in the heavens” (1.4.3–4). That is, there are discernable moral and metaphysical realities in the natural order of things, and it is given to man to contemplate and uncover their secrets. Boethius is basically exhorted to “contemplate the heavens,” or make use of the light of nature.18 He brings this up as a recollection of what life was like prior to his imprisonment. Although he faithfully sought to apply the wisdom gained from such philosophical contemplations, it appears that Fortune has betrayed him, and he knows not why. Lady Philosophy exposes Boethius’ attachment to the things of this world (his clouded thinking) and calls him to the transcendent—to think beyond appearances.

Later in Chapter 8 of Book 3, Lady Philosophy points to the truth of God that is discernible through the heavens, which ought to humble us and keep us from seeking happiness in material and transient things: “Contemplate the extent and the stability of the heavens, and then at last cease to admire worthless things. Even so, you should marvel at the heavens not so much for those features as for the innate reason [i.e., the knowledge and wisdom of God] by which they are guided” (line 8). The one who contemplates and discerns the heavens, in other words, is the reasonable soul who is not flummoxed by the misgivings of Fortune; they get above the sun to discern the eternal Reason that is behind all things (cf. Eccl. 1:14). The light of nature is therefore to be thought of as a means to perceive the true Light from which nature derives its light.

18 Boethius, Consolation, trans. with notes by Joel C. Relihan, 183.

Lastly, there is a contrast between those who perceive the light of nature and walk in its light and those who exhibit spiritual blindness and walk in darkness: “That is because their eyes are accustomed to darkness, and they cannot raise them to the light of clear truth… In concentrating their gaze not on the order of nature but on their own emotions, they imagine that freedom to commit crimes or impunity for committing them is a blessing” (4.4.27; cf. Prov. 4:18–19). There is an obvious relation to Plato’s cave analogy here, of those chained and forced to look at shadows as if to be the real thing. Their eyes are not accustomed to the bright sun, which is to say their minds are not agreeable to the truth. Further, what they imagine to be their freedom is actually their enslavement, confusing freedom for licentiousness. This moral characteristic leads into the discussion of the relationship between light and virtue.

The Light of Virtue

Recall that Dante meets the classical philosophers and poets in Limbo in Inferno IV. As they continue to walk toward the light, they come to a castle: “We came then to the foot of a great castle, \ Encircled seven times by lofty walls, \ And around which there flowed a pleasant stream; \\ We went over the stream as on dry land; \ And I entered seven gates with those wise men: \ We came into a meadow where the grass was cool” (lines 106–11). The seven-walled castle surrounded by a stream is the picturesque centerpiece to the canto’s literary art. Indeed, paintings of Dante in Limbo of-

Images of Truth

ten incorporate this castle.19 The walls with their gates could represent the seven liberal arts of the Trivium and Quadrivium. Alternatively, the walls and their gates could represent the seven moral and intellectual virtues—prudence, justice, courage, moderation, understanding, knowledge, and wisdom. Guy Raffa sees them as symbolizing one or the other. 20 Yet again, they could represent the seven subjects of philosophy—physics, metaphysics, ethics, politics, economics, mathematics, and dialectics. 21 However, the moral characteristic of the Comedy, as well as related imagery in the Consolation, seems to best support the view that the walls and gates represent the seven virtues. Further, Dante says that he “entered seven gates with those wise men.” To enter through the gates, therefore, is to be among the wise, and only the virtuous may enter. Corroborating this view, Lady Philosophy, in the Consolation, uses the same imagery of fortification against the “lawless stupidity” of the wicked. She also speaks of “our leader” drawing back her forces into “our citadel” (1.3.9–14). Walsh understands the leader to be “Wisdom,” 22 which is one of the virtues; not to mention that philosophy is the love of wisdom. She also speaks of God as the epitome of virtue, referring to “the unchanging steadfastness of the divine mind.” She continues, “This mind, established in the citadel of his own oneness, decides upon the complex plan of the course of events” (4.6.8). She then comments on why virtue is called what it is: “Moreover, virtue (virtus) is so-called because it relies on

19 See, for instance, Botticelli, A Map of Dante’s Hell. Detail: The Noble Castle of Limbo.

20 Guy P. Raffa, The Complete Danteworlds: A Reader’s Guide to the Divine Comedy (University of Chicago Press, 2009), 19.

21 Dante, The Divine Comedy, ed. David H. Higgins, trans. Charles H. Sisson, 509.

22 Boethius, Consolation, notes by P. G. Walsh, 118.

its strength (vires) not to be overcome by adversity” (4.7.19). Those who are virtuous are those who are steadfast or resolute in commitment to Truth, Goodness, and Beauty in the face of opposition. This military language represents a motif running throughout the Consolation . 23 It could be that Dante borrowed this citadel imagery to depict the steadfast nature of the virtues as exemplified in the classical philosophers and poets (or their characters): stalwarts of the Greco-Roman intellectual and literary world.

Boethius further develops this association of light with virtue. For example, Lady Philosophy has this to say: “So do you see the clinging mire in which shameful deeds wallow, and the glow with which moral virtue shines? This makes it clear that good men never lack rewards, and that crimes never go without their punishment” (4.3.1). Here we see that light refers to the moral virtue of good men, while shameful or criminal deeds receive their due punishment.

Relating this to Dante’s Limbo, it could be said that the light of virtue shines, though dimly, from the castled dwelling of the classical philosophers and poets. The virtue of the noble characters in Limbo has won them a gardenesque plot on the outskirts of Hell, fortified seven times; their only torture is having desire but no hope (Inferno IV.42). However, those who lived in wickedness are fraught with unrelenting tortures, and these punishments are reflections of their earthly lives. This is known as “contrapasso (law of counter-suffering),” and it requires that people experience suffering corresponding to the nature of their sins on earth. 24 For instance, clergy members guilty of simony (buying or selling ecclesias-

23 Boethius, Consolation, trans. with notes by Joel C. Relihan, 188.

24 Raymond Angelo Belliotti, Dante’s Deadly Sins: Moral Philosophy In Hell, 55.

Images of Truth

tical privileges) are placed upside down in holes resembling baptistries and have their feet scorched by fire. This may be a play on the biblical reference to baptism with the Spirit and fire (Matt. 3:11–12). Contrapasso is, in other words, a reciprocal judgment.

Consolation 3.4 holds up wisdom and virtue as of a lasting quality that makes men worthy of respect, contra positions of high authority which tend only to corrupt. “This is because virtue has a native worth which it at once confers on those with whom it is associated. But honours [i.e., civil offices] bestowed by the common folk cannot impart such worth, so clearly those distinctions do not have the splendour possessed by true worth” (7–8). Simply put, high positions of authority, which Boethius held, do not make one virtuous. Rather, they are often filled by people of vice. Virtue, on the other hand, is inherently beneficial.

This is likewise seen throughout Dante’s Inferno, as the virtuous poets and philosophers are given a place of honor, while many a leader, both civil and ecclesiastical, is allotted stricter judgment because of their hypocritical and vice-laden lives. Dante is communicating, at least in part, that these offices will not benefit you in the after-life, but a life oriented toward the glory of God will.

Consolation 5.2.9–10 serves as a summary of what has come before. It speaks of intellectual and moral slavery by devoting oneself to vice, thereby disdaining the light of reason. In so doing, people “lower their eyes from the light of the highest truth down to the world of darkness below.” This light of the highest truth, as we have seen, is God, as is also true in the Comedy. To lower one’s eyes from this light is to be clouded by ignorance and thrashed by destructive emotions. Such people have disordered souls, with the base appetites

governing reason—reason has abdicated its reign or has been overthrown. The more one engages in earthly thinking and moral degradation, the more difficult it becomes to engage in rational thought. 25 That is, the more people descend from the truth above to the darkness of earthly things below, the less free they become, being enslaved to their passions.

Conclusion

This language of light and darkness is just as prominent at the end of the Consolation as it is at the beginning, meaning it has been a constant theme throughout. 26 What is Boethius’ conclusion to all of this? It is to “avoid vices, cultivate the virtues, raise your minds to righteous hopes, [and] pour out your humble prayers to heaven” (5.6.47–8). Earlier, he says that divine grace is the only way to converse with God, and that it is by means of prayer that we may be united “to that unapproachable Light” (5.3.34). Walsh points out the possible connection of this phrase to 1 Timothy 6:16, “who alone has immortality, who dwells in unapproachable light, whom no one has ever seen or can see…,” suggesting “Christian inspiration” as opposed to merely inspiration in the classical Greco-Roman tradition. 27 In summary, Boethius wrestles with ideas in his mind as he contemplates his unfortunate state of affairs. Lady Philosophy offers her wisdom as medicine for his downcast soul. She is Boethius’ guiding light, leading him to the peace of God.

25 Boethius, Consolation, notes by P. G. Walsh, 158.

26 Boethius, Consolation, trans. with notes by Joel C. Relihan, 190.

27 Boethius, Consolation, notes by P. G. Walsh, 160.

Images of Truth

The Comedy, as we have seen, also has this constant imagery of light and darkness, concluding with Dante praying to receive enough grace “to lift his eyes \ Higher towards the ultimate beatitude” (Paradiso XXXIII.26–27). Dante here possesses the beatific vision, the desire of his heart; and “In that light a man becomes such \ That it is impossible he should turn away \ Ever to look upon any other thing” (lines 100–102). In summary, Dante, in epic fashion, descends into the darkness in order to ascend to the highest of lights, who is God, being helped along the way by two lesser lights: Virgil and Beatrice.

Their experiences, both real and imagined, along with their instruction, are guiding lights for us today; for we, too, face dark times and dark characters, and must always keep our gaze fixed on that Light of lights, praying always for grace that we, too, may bask in the eternal light of the beatific vision. May this be our journey’s end. ⸭

Drew Mery is a high school teacher of Logic, Philosophy, American Government, and Economics at Paideia Academics. He is working on a PhD in Theology (South African Theological Seminary) with earned degrees in Humanities: Great Books (M.A., American Public University) and Biblical and Theological Studies (BSc, Liberty University). He has written for CiRCE Institute’s FORMA Journal on Charlotte Mason’s educational philosophy and the nature of the happy life according to Boethius and Augustine. Additionally, he has over ten years of professional experience in data analytics. Drew lives in central Florida with his wife, Kristen, and three children.

Objective Truth

Diversity of Thought and Freedom in Socratic Dialogue

by Bryant K. Owens, PhD

The dialogues of Plato show the beauty of wisdom and the freedom that philosophy guarantees for the human soul. The humble, yet bold, dialogues of Socrates with numerous Athenians established the foundation of philosophical thought that must not be abandoned in the emphasis upon diverse learning communities. Many of Plato’s dialogues, but especially the Apology, emphasize the liberation that the love of wisdom returns. In the face of opposition to his inquiries, Socrates modeled how diversity of thoughtful inquiry uncovers the universal truth that silences oppressive voices and transcends relative opinion. This article will propose that as academia seeks to ensure equitable and diverse learning communities, objective truth, as defined by Platonic philosophy through the Socratic Method, is the basis for, not the hindrance to, the ideal pursuit of wisdom. This article will also propose an alternative dialogue to the emphasis on relativism that some circles in academia promote as the basis for defending equitable and diverse learning

communities. Through exploring the classical arguments that show how relativism leads to no truth at all, I hope to remind the reader that objective epistemology ensures the freedom of diverse ideas rather than oppressing them. If open dialogue is the hallmark of an equitable and diverse learning community, then classical thinking, which seeks objective truth, ensures the liberation of the mind. Socratic dialogue can unveil truth (singular) through the diversity of ideas (plural). The true philosopher who practices Socratic methods of dialogue must adhere to the freedom of thought of all who are in conversation allowing for truth to reveal itself rather than the desires of the participants in discussion to shape the answers after their own perceptions. Some ideas will be in error and philosophical inquiry must allow the freedom to contrast true statements with false ones. Furthermore, the humility to admit that one does not truly know and is willing to seek truth apart from one’s own experience is the foundation for the freedom of Socratic inquiry. A free spirit is necessary to ensure freedom of a people (or individual). Eric Voegelin argues that, “The authority of the spirit is an authority only if, and when, it is accepted in freedom.”1

Relativism as Misguided Truth

Is truth a matter of perspective as the rise of relativism in academia seems to suggest? Far too often students come to philosophy courses with what appears to be a strong influence of relativism from mass media messages or from cultur -

1 Eric Voegelin, Plato (Baton Rouge, LA: Louisiana State University Press: 1966), 135.

Objective Truth

al studies in the classroom. While understanding diversity of cultures unfamiliar to one’s own is important to expanding one’s worldview, and an open mind is imperative to learning, the view is fallible when truth is defined by the emphasis on plurality of worldviews. When students propose the relativist answer that the truth to a philosophical question merely “depends on one’s perspective,” what they are truly expressing is that they “really don’t know or want to explore” the problem. Many instructors and professors in higher education would agree that students often lack the cognitive skills necessary to explore complicated subjects. The easy answer then is that no answer is true because all answers are true. Relativism as the default answer to academic exercise truly leads to no answer at all. This is an obvious absurdity and reveals the fallibility of relativism.

A review of classic western philosophy will remind the scholar that relativist views are not new and were also argued by Greek philosophers. This view is contrasted with the objective essence of Socratic dialogue as the solution to a life of wisdom resulting in the harmony of ideas through diverse thought and freedom of the advancement of the soul.

Plato’s dialogue the Cratylus is a classic exploration of the philosophy of language and the ‘correctness’ of names. Through etymological exploration, the ancient Greeks often disagreed on the proper origin of words and the specific meaning of names. There were two camps of thought on the correct application of descriptive words for a thing or a name. One argument saw the correctness of words as a minimalist view where the community or culture defined the correct meaning of a word. In this view, if a culture called a man a horse, then that thing that is called a man in one

culture is called a horse in another. 2 Furthermore, this use of descriptive language should not be questioned and was held as a proper method of understanding. The second contrasting argument in ancient Greece was the obscure naturalist position that each name only described whatever a thing did ‘by nature’ regardless of the opinion of a given community. In this view there was no need to create a name. Instead the item observed would naturally reveal itself and the name attached to it would evolve on its own merit. This means that under etymological examination, each name would be reduced to a discussed description and was what made it the correct name for that thing. Therefore, the nature of a thing determined the descriptive used in understanding that thing and there was no need for a culture to create a word for that thing. The natural order of things described that thing.

One key exchange from the Cratylus that showcases the fallibility of relativism concerns the ideas proposed by Protagoras, a Sophist teacher, who proposed that “Man is the measure of all things.” Socrates responds to Hermogenes in the Cratylus concerning the origin of names. “So whatever each person says is the name of something, for him, that is its name?”3 This is a classic answer in relativism that students employ whenever they do not truthfully know an answer (or have not read the homework). The classic response from Socrates involves analysis of the argument from the Sophist, Protagoras:

2 Plato, Cratylus, 385a4. Rather than the plurality of words in numerous languages and cultures equally defining what English speakers call ‘horse,’ Plato argues that these words all point to the essence, or the ‘horseness’ of the creature that we know as a horse.

3 Plato, Cratylus, 385d.

Objective Truth

Let’s see, Hermogenes, whether the same also seems to you to hold of the things that are. Is the being or essence of each of them something private for each person, as Protagoras tells us? He says that man is ‘the measure of all things,’ and that things are to me as they appear to me and are to you as they appear to you. 4

The classic response to Protagoras’ relativism comes again from Socrates who challenges the stability of such a position: “But if Protagoras is telling the truth—if it is the Truth that things are for each person as he believes them to be, how is it possible for one person to be wise and another foolish?”5 In other words, if everyone’s truth is true, then no one could ever be wrong. Obviously, some ideas are true, and some ideas are not. To deny the important academic role of discernment between statements that are true and statements that are false leads to a clearly unworkable argument. Likewise, if all actions are moral and none are immoral, then the obvious answer is that no action is immoral. 6 All action is morally relative to the individual. This is a clear contradiction of reality and is implausible in philosophic inquiry.

The Irrationality of Sophism

The relativist argument is not a new point argued in diversity, equity, and inclusion discussions. The Sophism of Protagoras (481–411) is widely credited with the idea that

4 Plato, Cratylus, 385e–386a.

5 Plato, Cratylus, 386c.

6 Plato, Cratylus, 386c–386e.

“Man is the measure of all things.” 7 In this statement one sees the attempt by the Sophist to instill a philosophy that humanity defines all that there is. In other words, truth is relative to what humanity says is truth. Taken in a subjective position, truth is relative to what the individual says is true. Or taken from a position of cultural relativisim, truth may vary by cultural perspective.

The problem with this epistemology in the classroom is obvious to any academic. If one seeks to learn a new thing, the student only accepts this idea if the student feels that it aligns with one’s perspective on truth. If the idea presented in class does not align with the student’s perspective, then the student is justified to reject it since “Man is the measure of all things.”

Sophism came to prominence in the height of Greek influence in the ancient world. Whereas Sophists advocated acceptance of various political factions within Greek culture, the objectivism of Socrates and Plato insisted on the standard of truth regardless of political factions. As the thinkers of Greece were becoming more acquainted with foreign peoples, questions were raised as Greeks often inquired about the nature of knowledge considering diverse ideas. Were the various national and local ways of life, religious and ethical codes merely conventions? Was Hellenic culture, as contrasted with non-Hellenic or barbarian cultures a matter of mutable man-made legislative law (νόμος) or was the greatness of Greek culture truly modeled after the Natural essence of truth (Φύσει)?8

7 Plato, Cratylus, 386.

8 Frederick C. Copleston, A History of Philosophy, vol. 1, 9 vols. (London: Search Press, 1946), 82.

Objective Truth

Sophism was more of a pedagogical movement than a philosophical school. The Sophists were itinerant teachers sanctioned by the Greek legislative bodies. They gave popular lectures swaying congregants to the strict adherence of tradition. Yet the substance of these lectures tended to vary from town to town moving wherever the teacher instructed the youth in the ways of citizenry. The lessons required thoughtful exercise in ethics and in the pluralist religion of Panhellenism.9

Sophist relativism became the scorn of critics, especially Socrates. It was the transitory nature of the Sophist professor that aided the growth of relativism within their ideas. In order to make a living, a very lucrative living at that, the Sophists gained the reputation of adhering to the plurality of ideas in each community, or city-state, while also calling for loyalty to the plurality of the Greek Panhellenistic religion. An obvious contraction to the Sophist claims emerged. Socrates responds to Euthyphro’s definition of piety10 in Plato’s dialogue, “It appears that what is loved by the gods is also hated by them.”11 The autonomy of the city-states of the Greek landscape allowed for diversity of religious adoration and the Sophists sought to unite these varying communities through the common ideas which made them all Greek. But at the core of this problem of multiple deities rested the lucrative nature of the itinerant vocation of the Sophist teacher. In order to be profitable in their ventures, ideas from the

9 Frederick C. Copleston, A History of Philosophy, 84.

10 Plato, Euthyphro, 7.a. “What is dear to the gods is pious, what is not is impious.” The Greek Pan Hellenism consisted of a plurality of gods who were not all known for the morally pious behavior. So, Socrates’ question is a justified one in seeking a single definition of piety.

11 Plato, Euthyphro, 8.b.

city-state in which they were paid dictated the direction of the lessons taught. What was true in one city-state was not true in another and truth shifted in the Sophist’s lesson plan dependent on the city-state in which he taught. Sophism focused on the microcosm rather than the macrocosm of ideas. From the store of facts accumulated through differences of opinion and belief, Sophism concluded that it was impossible to have any certain knowledge.12 So, the common answer for today’s student that truth “depends on one’s perspective” was one argued before without logical success.

The Purpose of Philosophy

The greatest philosophers tend to be those who bring together many ideas that at first seem disparate. For example, the Pre-Socratic philosophies of Parmenides and Heraclitus are of differing perspectives. Parmenides said that Being is fundamentally changeless. Heraclitus said that the elements of reality are in constant change (universal flux). Plato was able to see truth in both arguments and brought them together into a broader systematic understanding. Parmenides was a younger contemporary of Heraclitus and founded the Eleatic school of philosophy. The focus of his philosophy can be summed up in the assertion, “Whatever is, is.” In other words, reality is immovable and is constant. The nature of the world is that it exists. Being of whatever nature it may be, is. It exists and cannot not be. In other words, if something can be, namely It, whatever It is, can be

12

Frederick C. Copleston, A History of Philosophy, 82.

Objective Truth

and therefore must be. Being, or reality, or It, was not first possible, from nothing and then existent: but It was always existent and more accurately, “It is.”13 For Parmenides, if anything exists in a perfect or absolute manner, it cannot change. If reality is absolute, then it must have never not been and therefore can never not be or cease to be. It cannot be and not be at the same time and in the same way. Reality, that is being, must be absolutely or not at all. Change for Parmenides was an illusion.

Students of pre-Socratic, Hellenic culture will observe the contrasting influence of the Heraclitan emphasis of universal flux.14 Motion and change were observed as the nature of all reality. Through the elements of earth, air, fire, and water, all that is, is never constant but is in flux. The dynamic texture of the world is in motion. “Its tissue is a tissue of motions.”15 Yet, what the Hellenic meaning about universal flux means in its context is not the same as the modern scientific understanding of molecular movement. Rather, the meaning of universal flux is more akin to the constant change of perception. If one were to stare at the blue sky long enough, the perception of the intensity of the blue will shift in time. To stare at a colorful object long enough causes one’s perceptual memory to pick up details that cause the original perception to change. Likewise, perceptions of all the senses will experience the same result.16

13 Frederick C. Copleston, A History of Philosophy, 49.

14 “All things flow, nothing abides; everything gives way, and nothing stays fixed.” Heraclitus, Heraclitus, trans. Philip Wheelwright (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1959), Fragment 20, 29.

15 Heraclitus, Heraclitus, trans. Philip Wheelwright, 11.

16 Heraclitus, Heraclitus, trans. Philip Wheelwright, 31.

Eventually, the philosophy of universal flux followed the trail of motion and change to the awakening of fancy and hope resulting in a conviction that somewhere behind the everchanging movements was an unchanging essence, a permanent something that was universally ultimate. This thing desired therefore transcended all motion and change giving meaning and ideal purpose to the flux—a rational end.

Plato’s Cratylus argues that the Greek etymology of ever-changing meaning of names indicates that the commonly held idea that reality is in constant flux is a false reality:

But if neither is right, and the things are not relative to individuals, and all things no equally belong to all at the same moments and always, they must be supposed to have their own proper and permanent essence: they are not in relation to us, or influenced by us, fluctuating according to our fancy, but they are independent, and maintain to their own essence the relation prescribed by nature.17

Instead, Socrates argues effectively in the dialogue that to learn the truth, one must go beyond the words themselves and explore ideas through the reason of the mind to grasp the direct and permanent unchanging essence of things as they are in themselves. In other words, the truth of a thing (or an idea) is not relative to any number of opinions (man is the measure of all things) instead, the true essence of a thing transcends all opinion and observation of a thing. That transcendent essence must be sought above the perceived reality of the senses.

17 Plato, Cratylus, 386d.

Plato’s Apology: Socratic Method and Freedom from Oppressive Authority

Socrates boldly declares in Plato’s Apology that his mission as a philosopher is “to examine myself and others.”18 In his defense against the charge of impiety and corruption of the youth, the Gadfly of Athens refuses to abandon the practice of philosophy; “For I go around doing nothing but persuading both young and old among you not to care for your body or your wealth in preference to or as strongly as for the best possible state of your soul.”19 Indeed, the advancement of one’s soul is the fundamental purpose of all philosophy. Even the pre-Socratic philosophers which influenced Socrates sought wisdom as the means by which one’s soul advanced to a higher purpose.

The Men of Athens consisted of the property holders of the city-state who as citizens possessed the right to vote and participate in public debate. These men of authority ironically advocated the ideas of the Sophists. The traditions of Greek Panhellenism were at stake, or more truthfully, the political fortunes of the authorities were in danger. Whereas the political value of holding up the importance of relative ideas and positions held by various positions brought with it places of prominence, the absolutism of traditional piety insisted upon by this authority in truth oppressed the freedom of philosophical inquiry that they held in such high esteem. The influence of Sophism upon these men of authority, while professing to stand for absolute truth, really led to no truth at all. The influence of relativism by the Sophists resulted in

18 Plato, Apology, 29a.

19 Plato, Apology, 30b.

the abusive oppression of those who refused to oppose their relativist positions.

Freedom in Socratic Dialogue

It is evident in Socrates’ defense of his philosophical inquiries to the Men of Athens that the Gadfly of Athens never insisted on his own version of relative truth upon his students. 20 Rather, Socrates firmly believed that a free-will inquiry to understanding produced the most objective and true ideas. “Furthermore, the young men who follow me around of their own free will…take pleasure in hearing people questioned; they themselves often imitate me and try to question others.” 21 It was this free imitation of Socrates by the youth of Athens that brought the charge of corruption. Socrates was accused of instigating heretical attitudes among the young citizens of Athens. But the truth is obvious that the freedom of inquiry for the sake of wisdom threatened the authorities of Athens. Therefore, freedom to pursue understanding by the unhindered flow of ideas resulted in the purest truth and the greatest threat. Oppression followed. Socrates defended his philosophical method before the charges from Meletus at the trial in Athens. While the Athenian authorities staged a public defense of arguments in the case, Socrates ultimately made Meletus out to be an inarticulate fool. What is clear in Plato’s Apology is that what is defined as truth by the authorities who advocated the relativism

20 Plato, Apology, 30e.

21 Plato, Apology, 23c.

Objective Truth

of the Sophists, was revealed to be oppression of truth. The freedom to explore ideas, as advocated by the Sophists, became a threat when freely practiced by Socrates and his students. When the philosophical method, centered on objective standards of truth, were practiced, then relative acceptance of many truths was exposed as oppressive. In other words, maintaining the plurality of the Greek city-state culture was deemed more valuable than the free exploration of ideas in Socratic dialogue. Objective truth is revealed in the Apology as freer than the oppressive nature of the relativism of Sophism.

Conclusion

What should we take away from this comparison of relativism and objectivism? While the encouragement of diversity in academia is long overdue and applauded, scholars must not fail to learn from the lessons of the history of philosophical thought. If relativism is the definition of the movement to improve diversity of ideas in academia, then we are only repeating the error of the Sophists. If relativism is the standard of the truthful inquiry of ideas, then all ideas have a voice and are good, leading to the troubling reality that no idea is bad. Or that all ideas are true, and no idea is false. If this is the case, all cultural standards of truth and morality must be recognized as true and the honest result is that dangerous ideas are no longer dangerous. For example, if all truth depends on one’s culture (man is the measure of all things) then the culture of White Nationalism must also be true since a White Nationalist is the measure of his or her ideas. No one can challenge these ideas or show how wrong

or dangerous or false they are if truth is measured by each person or culture—relativism. But if truth is measured by an objective standard of truth, the essence that reveals itself, then ideas can be genuinely revealed as good or bad, true or false. Dangerous ideas can rightly be shown as dangerous since an objective standard of truth points out that the truth of a false idea is that it is false, or that the truth of a dangerous idea is that it is dangerous. Plato’s dialogues teach us about the Socratic method of knowing. The freedom to explore ideas demands the objective approach to exploring all questions in the inquiry allowing the truth of the exploration to uncover an objective truth not dependent on the relative perceptions of the participants in that inquiry. When this form of inquiry removes the standard of relative perspective, then truth as an object, rather than truth as the subject, becomes the most liberating. This article proposes an alternative dialogue to the emphasis on relativism that academia seems to follow as the basis for defending equitable and diverse learning communities. Through exploring the classical arguments that show how relativism leads to no truth at all, perhaps the reader is persuaded that objective epistemology ensures the freedom of diverse ideas rather than oppressing them. If open dialogue is the hallmark of an equitable and diverse learning community, then classical thinking, around objective standards of truth, ensures the liberation of the mind rather than relativism which ultimately oppresses freedom of thought. Socratic dialogue does unveil truth (singular) through the exploration of the diversity of ideas (plural).

Bryant K. Owens earned a M.Div. from The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary in Louisville, KY in 2009 and a PhD in Christian Philosophy from Faulkner University in 2018. He is currently the Senior Pastor of Sovereign Grace Baptist Church in Cookeville, TN and Professor of Philosophy at Virginia Highlands Community College in Abingdon, VA. Dr. Owens has served on faculty at New College Franklin in Franklin, TN; Volunteer State Community College in Gallatin, TN; and the American Music and Dance Academy of New York. He also taught as a private tutor with Kepler Education. He and Rhonda homeschooled their two sons in the Classical Christian model.

Humility and Habit of Truth-Seeking in Socratic Dialogue

A Reflective Encouragement for the Classical, Rhetoric-Level Teacher

by Karla Memmott, PhD

Whether new to the classical liberal arts tradition or a returning veteran, one quickly learns that Socratic discussions are an integral element of the classical education experience. Whereas the veteran, liberal arts student may savor the experience, anticipate the interjections, and look forward to the debate, the student who is new to the venue may find the experience overwhelming as she learns to engage in such a conversation and debate ideas. Whereas the extrovert is bursting with ideas and thoughts, the timid student can experience anxiety as she learns to jump into the conversation and interject with comments. Whereas the quick-witted student possesses a plethora of potential contributions at any given moment, the more reflective student needs processing time, and struggles to adjust to the dialogue which flows quickly in streams of differing opinions. The experience challenges some students to resist the urge to comment immediately, and summons other students to speak up. Regardless of the starting point, the experience changes the student's mindset,

which is why the Socratic discussion is such a key component for the classically educated student.

Classical teachers may also have conflicting perspectives with respect to the Socratic discussion. Whereas the experienced teacher enjoys the moments of conversing with the students, debating the topic, and seeking deeper understanding of text, the newer teacher may question the process or even her ability to teach. The hurdles of managing the conversation present multi-faceted obstacles. There is the issue of verifying that all students have read the material, and later following up to ensure that all of the students participate in the conversation. There is the ongoing issue of lassoing the conversation and bringing it back to the topic at hand. Once in a while, the need arises to officiate a debate between two students or two groups of students who have overstepped the bounds of healthy argument and entered the arena of uncivilized mud-slinging. The perspectives which the teacher experiences may lead her to question the discussion process or the classical paradigm.

Despite the obstacles that may arise in a Socratic discussion, the healthy rewards that are generated from the opportunity overshadow the potential obstacles. The students gain an ability to engage in healthy conversation, understand varying viewpoints, think through a thought, and verbally vocalize complex ideas. A liberal arts education is not primarily skills-focused but the skills gained in Socratic discussion are merited nonetheless. However, skills alone are not the goal of a Socratic discussion. The Socratic discussion also has the potential of shifting the mind of the participants toward the higher things of life such as knowledge and wisdom. The Socratic discussion enlightens the mind to ponder elements of truth, goodness, and beauty. Most notably, the Socratic dis-

Humility and Habit of Truth-Seeking

cussion is a forum which stimulates a truth-seeking mindset for the participants.

The long term significance of truth-seeking can be understood by considering the need for humility in authentic truth-seeking as well as the ongoing habit of truth-seeking, both of which can be acquired in a Socratic discussion. Once the merit of the effects of truth-seeking are understood, the hesitant teacher may become more motivated to delve into the practicalities of truth-seeking through Socratic discussion. Whereas nearly anyone who engages in Socratic discussion can develop truth-seeking attitudes and habits, this article is directed to the classically-minded, rhetoric-level teacher. Although each Socratic discussion may take on its own organic nature based on the topic and the members of the conversation, the dialogue in general has several common elements. Mortimer Adler breaks down general conversation types into serious and playful . The playful conversation has no designated purpose, often happens spontaneously, and takes on an easy, informal mindset.1 The serious conversation is bifurcated into points which are personal and impersonal. Whereas the personal conversation is often between two to three intimate friends involving deep emotional topics, the impersonal conversations are made up of a group that is slightly larger and involves topics that are theoretical or practical. 2 In making the distinction between theoretical and practical, Adler notes, “For impersonal conversations that have a theoretical purpose, ideas and issues constitute the ideal subject-matter. For those that have a practical purpose, well-formulated plans, policies, and problems provide the

1 Mortimer J. Adler, How to Speak, How to Listen, 1st ed. (New York: Touchstone, 1997), 127.

2 Mortimer J. Adler, How to Speak, How to Listen, 128.

richest material.”3 Whereas the goal of practical deliberations is to reach a consensus about “what is to be done,” the theoretical dialogue may not come to a final conclusion but rather terminate with a mutual understanding of one another.4 The impersonal exchange is typically scheduled in advance and may have oversight by a moderator. Accordingly, the defining points of a Socratic discussion are serious, impersonal deliberations involving a relatively small group of individuals who are oftentimes not intimately acquainted with one another and are considering theoretical or practical topics, in which practical topics may be resolved but theoretical conversations humbly end with mutual understanding. The Socratic dialogue is not a quick conversation. Members actively listen to one another as the participants share thoughts and ideas. Admittedly, the discussion can quickly go awry since humans often misunderstand one another, and language has its own issues of ambiguity. Subsequently, the first challenge of a Socratic discussion is for members to take the time to clarify understanding with one another. This practice is especially important in theoretical conversations when one is seeking the truth of the author’s statement to gain greater understanding. Adler indicates clarification is a necessary factor before advancing the conversation:

Everyone wants to use words his or her own way. This cannot be changed, but something can be done about it. We can take note of the different senses in which the same word is used and even label them. That takes more care and patience than most people are willing to exert for the sake of making their conversations more communicative,

3 Mortimer J. Adler, How to Speak, How to Listen, 132.

4 Mortimer J. Adler, How to Speak, How to Listen, 133.

but unless it is done, misunderstandings and even apparently irreconcilable conflicts are bound to result. 5

Adler’s observation is that the conversation may take time to develop as individuals verify understanding with one another, however the time commitment is necessary for mutual understanding, especially for theoretical topics. 6 The explanations needed to advance the conversation require humility to patiently repeat statements as others attempt to identify the truth and accuracy of an argument. Humility is needed to flexibly adapt a mindset when challenged, but a willingness to abdicate a position because of a desire to seek truth. This practice is often not natural, nor can it be assimilated quickly but requires consistent humility in truth-seeking through the developed habit of truth-seeking.

Humility of Truth-Seeking

“What is truth?”

Jesus had just declared to Pontius Pilate that His purpose in coming to the world was to testify to the truth and to claim all who belong to the truth as His own. Pilate responded to the pronouncement with the famous and most relevant query, “What is truth?” (John 18:36–38, ESV). One cannot determine Pilate’s demeanor as he posed this famous question. Perhaps, the question stemmed from a disillusioned politician who had started his career with an air of innocence but gradually succumbed to the temptation of compromised

5 Mortimer J. Adler, How to Speak, How to Listen, 137.

6 The theoretical conversation will be the focus for the remainder of this article.

truth so that he would advance within a system impregnated with corruption, which resulted in being snared in the cycle of half-truths and deceit. Perhaps, the question was posed with a sarcastic sneer of one who savored the power to cold-heartedly stamp out the light of truth. Regardless of the possible tones of the question, one can reasonably presume that the question posed was not that of a humble truth-seeker. The Apostle John records that immediately after retorting his response to the question, Pilate returned to the Jewish leaders to declare that he found no evidence of guilt against Jesus, presumably hoping to put an abrupt end to the mock trial based on trumped up charges the jealous leaders had laid against Jesus. Pilate knew the truth and he made a half-hearted attempt to release Jesus, but eventually succumbed to the political pressure of the moment. Pilate was a truth-rejecter.

Unlike Pilate’s arrogant abandonment of truth, Socrates exemplifies the humility associated with authentic truth-seeking. The Apology written by Plato addresses Socrates’ pursuit of truth. Plato noted that the insistent inquiry Socrates went through was to determine the truth of the Delphic Oracle, which had named him as the wisest man:

When I heard the answer [that Socrates was the wisest man of Athens], I said to myself, What can the god mean? and what is the interpretation of his riddle? for I know that I have no wisdom, small or great. What then can he mean when he says that I am the wisest of men? And yet he is a god, and cannot lie; that would be against his nature. After long consideration, I thought of a method of trying the question. I reflected that if I could only find a man wiser

than myself, then I might go to the god with a refutation in hand.7

In response to the announcement, Socrates determined to humbly seek out the truth of the oracle by questioning the philosophers and teachers who were thought to be wise, and who perhaps possessed an understanding of truth. He concluded that the group was not wise nor truthful, but existed in a state of deception. Rather than abandoning the quest, he meekly continued his pilgrimage by interviewing the poets and artisans. Socrates reached the same conclusion. He, then, considered an ultimate Truth when contemplating the god. He confirmed the assumption that he knows that the god cannot lie and he knows that there is a distinction between people and gods; gods are true and people are false. As he compared himself to the god, he admitted his own limited wisdom and knowledge but recognized that the god who cannot lie must know the truth. Ironically, this god of truth did not appear to Socrates the humble truth-seeker, but to Pilate the arrogant truth-rejecter.

The contrast between Pilate’s prideful attitude and Socrates’ humble attitude toward truth-seeking reflects the varying spectrum of participants’ mindset when joining a Socratic discussion. Author Karen Swallow notes that people in general wrestle with degrees of pride and oftentimes suffer the consequences of inappropriate pride, “To be human is to struggle with pride. A few have too little of it; most too much… Pride may be simple and it may be human, but it is a

7 Plato, Apology, in Great Books of the Western World, vol. 6. ed. Philip W. Goetz, trans. Benjamin Jowett (Chicago: Encyclopedia Britannica, 1993), 21.

devastating vice.” 8 The consequence of a prideful individual in a Socratic discussion is that the participant does not gain greater understanding, does not develop humility toward truth-seeking, and does not change. The individual who fails to consider what an author states; pays no attention to the expressions of fellow participants; or seeks only to express her opinion, demonstrates a prideful demeanor of truth-rejection. This person may verbally transfer the contemporary cultural mindset that “might makes right” to the conversation and simply talk over other members, or just talk louder. The approach may stem from arrogance or ignorance. Unfortunately, when the outbursts are derived from an attitude of arrogance the discussion experience can become an irritating combative encounter rather than an intellectually involved experience. However, if the protestations are the result of ignorance, the authentic individual can gradually be acculturated into a new frame of reference, embrace the dynamics of the discussion, and eventually become a humble truth-seeker. She has taken one step forward toward a new perspective on the spectrum of truth-seeking. This ideal is not to suggest that the individual becomes less impassioned about the topic, but more so that she has learned to humbly exercise restraint and seek out the truth of the discussion in community with other learners. Oftentimes, the discussion members are on a personal pilgrimage toward truth-seeking. The journey may have twists and turns which can result in prickly responses on occasion. However, their experience is also sprinkled with moments of quiet contemplation. The participant who develops the humble truth-seeking mindset approaches the conversation with an eagerness

8 Karen Swallow Prior, On Reading Well: Finding the Good Life Through Great Books (Grand Rapids, MI: Brazos Press, 2018), 222–223.

to test her own thoughts of interpretive reflections against the challenges of group members acknowledging the potential of having her mind changed. Mortimer J. Adler indicates that humble teachability is a part of the process:

Hence the person who, at any stage of a conversation disagrees, should at least hope to reach agreement in the end. He should be as much prepared to have his own mind changed as seek to change the mind of another. He should always keep before him the possibility that he misunderstands or that he is ignorant on some point. No one who looks upon disagreement as an occasion for teaching another should forget that it is also an occasion for being taught.9

Paradoxically, the truth-seeker of a Socratic discussion must approach the conversation with a degree of humility, but gains humility as she continues to seek out the truth of the conversation. Swallow also acknowledges that humility is the virtue that is contrasted against the vice of pride. She defines the humble person and humility in general:

The humble person is lowly. The person of humility— literally and figuratively—grounded. Thus humility is the recognition that we are all human —another word that comes from the same root10 —and that none of us are God. Remembering our position as earthly creatures who are

9 Mortimer J. Adler, How to Read a Book: The Classic Guide to Intelligent Reading (New York: Touchstone Books, 1972), 148.

10 Earlier in the chapter, Swallow Prior provides an etymology of the word humble indicating that the ancient root of the word is earth or ground suggesting the word is a reminder that humanity was created from the earth by God on the sixth day of creation.

not gods is the essence of humility. The virtue of humility, most simply defined, is an accurate assessment of oneself.11

With an attitude of humility, the participant takes the posture of a genuine student who is seeking to know more and understand more. The humility of truth-seeking in Socratic discussion trains the heart and mind of the student to value the thoughts of others. However as noted earlier, the Socratic discussion may not reach a clearly defined resolution. Similar to the centuries-old quest of Socrates, the liberal arts student continues to seek out the answers through ongoing conversations or additional reading. The Christian student is especially challenged to search in the Scriptures for answers addressing the ultimate truth. The astute observer recognizes that the quest for truth is not an immediate remedy. It requires an ongoing pursuit. It requires the humble habit of truth-seeking.

Habit of Truth-Seeking

The proverb states to “Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it” (Proverbs 22:6, ESV). The wisdom of the proverb acknowledges that the child is born with an undisciplined and wayward character that must be guided toward virtue. The education involves moral training as well as disciplined intellectual training. The child is born with a bent toward vice and sloth and she must be taught to seek out virtue and intellectual diligence. Aristotle describes virtue as

11 Karen Swallow Prior, On Reading Well: Finding the Good Life Through Great Books, 224–225.

Twofold, intellectual and moral. Both the coming-into being and increase of intellectual virtue result mostly from teaching—hence it requires experience and time—whereas moral virtue is the result of habit, and so it is that moral virtue got its name [ēthikē ] by a slight alteration of the term habit [ethos ]. It is also clear, as a result, that none of the moral virtues are present in us by nature, since nothing that exists by nature is habituated.12

Recognizing that the moral virtues are not an integral part of the person at birth, Aristotle notes the need for habit training. He continues the thought by referencing the need to engage in activities which are aligned with characteristics of virtue instruction:

In a word, the characteristics come into being as a result of the activities akin to them. Hence we must make our activities be of a certain quality, for the characteristics correspond to the differences among the activities. It makes no small difference, then, whether one is habituated in this or that way straight from childhood but a very great difference—or rather the whole difference.13

Truth-seeking is a moral and intellectual characteristic to which the individual must be habituated and the Socratic dialogue provides a forum for the development of habit training in truth-seeking. Within the venue of a Socratic dialogue, the habit of truth-seeking is a process that begins with seeking out the truth in the mundane and moving toward the transcendent

12 Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics, trans. Robert C. Bartlett and Susan D. Collins (Chicago, IL: University of Chicago, 2012), 2.1103a15.

13 Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics, 2.1103b20.

most frequently by reading books. James Schall notes that books become the fodder for feeding the soul toward a habit of inquisitiveness which is necessary for Socratic discussion.

“The important thing about a book is to know what it says. It is a living path to an author who is not here, who may in fact have lived centuries earlier, but who can still teach us.”14 Additionally, Adler notes that books provide the ideas needed for discussion. “Ideas, issues, values—these constitute the ideal subject matter for seminars. Reading great books or selections from them provides the substance for discussion.”15 Thus, to actively engage in truth-seeking in the Socratic discussion, one begins with truth-seeking in a book. The development begins in grammar stages which may be considered mundane with its limitations. Adler notes this process includes simple questions posed to the younger student about the sentence content.16 Even in this younger stage, the purpose of the question is not to just quiz the student but rather to allow the student to truthfully put the text in context. For example, after reading The Tale of Peter Rabbit by Beatrix Potter, the teacher may ask the student what it means that Peter Rabbit is naughty. The student is initially challenged to recite back what Peter Rabbit did to be naughty, not simply craft a response of naughtiness in general. However, since the eventual goal is to guide the student toward transcendent truth-seeking, at the right times the teacher may venture the dialogue into a structured discussion of the student’s naughty behavior. The questions may be limited and the responses focused on concrete examples. Admittedly, the

14 James V. Schall, The Life of the Mind: On the Joys and Travails of Thinking (Wilmington, DE: ISI Books, 2006), 13.

15 Mortimer J. Adler, How to Speak, How to Listen, 171.

16 Mortimer J. Adler, How to Read a Book, 17.

Humility and Habit of Truth-Seeking

restrictive dialogue at this age may be limited to questions posed by the teacher with short responses from the students, but the student is being challenged to respond accurately—to respond truthfully, nonetheless.

The progress moves along to more complex but accurate responses from logic level students who are trained to categorize truths of the books. Again the focus begins with limited but accurate recapitulation of the text. The questions remain simple but warrant more complex responses as Adler suggests: “Whereas the question that is asked at the first level is ‘What does the sentence say?’ the question typically asked at this level is ‘What is the book about?’ That is the surface question; others of similar nature are ‘What is the structure of the book?’ or ‘What are its parts?’”17 The logic level student is challenged to categorize the most important events of the book to provide a response, or to determine the category of the parts and explain how the parts fit into the whole. The dialogue may remain limited to a question-response between the teacher and the student at the beginning. However, as the students become more comfortable with responding to the teacher, they gradually ought to be encouraged to respond to one another’s summary of the text. When responding to others, the focus is still to accurately summarize, not to engage in debate. Despite the advancing techniques, the focus at the logic level remains the habituation of truth-seeking through accurate summary.

Whereas the grammar and logic students experience more restrictive discussion because truth-seeking is being scaffolded into their intellectual habits, the rhetoric student enjoys more liberty to exercise her own disciplined

17 Mortimer J. Adler, How to Read a Book, 18.

truth-seeking habit. The rhetoric student approaches the text with the active-reader mindset to determine the truth of the author’s propositions. The student has developing skills in truth-seeking and can be granted more freedom throughout the discussion. Although the rhetoric student is maturing into adulthood, the teacher continues to guide the truth-seeking habit to ensure that it has been cemented into the student character. Adler suggests that four poignant questions to be posed of any book are the following questions: “What is the book about as a whole?… What is being said in detail and how?… Is the book true in whole or in part?… What of it?”18 He then challenges the mature reader to an ongoing practice of the habit of questions:

Knowing what the four questions are is not enough. You must remember to ask them as you read. The habit of doing that is the mark of a demanding reader. More than that, you must know how to answer them precisely and accurately. The trained ability to do that is the art of reading.19

When the maturing reader has embraced humility in truth-seeking along with the habit of truth-seeking, she is prepared to engage in the fulfilling art of Socratic discussion. Additionally, as she engages in the fulfilling art of Socratic discussion, she continues in the character development of humility in truth-seeking and the habit of truth-seeking.

18 Mortimer J. Adler, How to Read a Book, 47–48.

19 Mortimer J. Adler, How to Read a Book, 48

Hows of Truth-Seeking

Recognizing the benefits of the truth-seeking qualities that are a part of the Socratic discussion, the liberal arts teacher may become motivated to tackle the challenges of teaching through Socratic discussion. Adler readily admits that hurdles exist, but also acknowledges the benefits of the method, “Socratic teaching—teaching by questioning and through discussion—is the most difficult kind of teaching, as well as the most rewarding for everyone involved.” 20 Despite the difficulties, Adler’s commitment to the process spans across much of his writing, most notably in two classic works, How to Read a Book: The Classic Guide to Intelligent Reading and How to Speak, How to Listen . The remainder of this essay focuses on options available to formulate a truth-seeking forum for Socratic dialogue. The first issue concentrates on crafting questions to spur on conversation. The second topic addresses basic ground rules for the teacher for leading Socratic discussion based on Adler’s reflections. The questions posed by the rhetoric teacher remain consistent in nearly every discussion. Adler suggests making an inquiry into the author's terms, propositions, and argument as well as considering the context in which the author was writing. Adler makes the distinction between words and terms when he says “A word can have many meanings, especially an important word. If the author uses a word in one meaning, and the reader reads it in another, words have passed between them, but they have not come to terms. Where there is unresolved ambiguity in communication there is no com-

munication, or at best communication must be incomplete.” 21 Subsequently, the reader must take the time to come to terms with the author’s word use. The pursuit of an accurate interpretation of the author’s terms can become a lively exercise in the discussion, especially if the author uses words with interchanging meanings. For example, in the sentence “Back in my day, a person was paid a day’s wage at the end of each day” has several varying terms for the word ‘day.’ Although this example can be remedied with relative ease, other words which have more complex meanings may take longer to decipher an accurate interpretation of the term. With patient but consistent questioning, the teacher can guide the conversation at a basic but engaging level.

The second level of the discussion revolves around determining the author’s propositions along with the supporting arguments. The supporting arguments are an important part of the exercise for two reasons. The first point is to confirm that the author is simply not making an opinion statement as stated by Adler, “His propositions are nothing but expressions of personal opinion unless they are supported by reasons. If it is a book and the subject with which it deals that we are interested in, and not just the author, we want to know not merely what his propositions are, but also why he thinks we should be persuaded to accept them.” 22 Secondly, the student has an example of structured arguments which can be imitated during the Socratic discussion. By digesting the author’s propositions and arguments and imitating them in Socratic discussions, the active participant learns to avoid opinion discussion while engaging in the routine questions.

21 Mortimer J. Adler, How to Read a Book, 97.

22 Mortimer J. Adler, How to Read a Book, 115.

Finally, the teacher poses questions that address the context in which the author is writing. No person exists in a vacuum, and this is certainly true for an author who has taken the time to write out a point for subsequent generations to read. While no person can know the exact intention of another, and all historical facts cannot be gleaned, taking time to consider the context of the book allows the reader to reflect on the nature of the book’s argument. The primary questions include the following: “When was the text written”; “Why was the text written”; and “To Whom was the author responding.” Although the questions may appear rote, the lively discussion takes place nonetheless. Each author has words to interpret, propositions to assess, and a worldview to consider.

A key point to note is the teacher’s questions at the beginning of the discussion are not the first time the rhetoric student has wrestled with the questions. The discussion responses are first addressed the moment the student opens the book for active reading. The active reader is the one who reads with pencil in hand and questions in mind. She reads sentences carefully and slowly to comprehend what the author is saying. As Adler notes, “From the author’s point of view, the important sentences are the ones that express the judgements on which his whole argument rests.” 23 Conversely, from the reader’s perspective, “the sentences [that are] important for you are those that require an effort of interpretation because, at first sight, they are not perfectly intelligible.” 24 Thus, the active reader must take time before the discussion to consider the argument as well as interpret the key sentenc-

23 Mortimer J. Adler, How to Read a Book, 121.

24 Mortimer J. Adler, How to Read a Book, 121.

es. However, the interpretation may be faulty. Regardless of any potential misinterpretation, the active participant is one who has posed the questions and wrestled with the questions within the context of the text long before the first question is suggested in the discussion.

Whereas the student has the responsibility to prepare for the discussion through active reading, the teacher has the dual responsibility of actively reading the material and preparing to lead the discussion. The first points of preparation are relatively simple, requiring only a designated time and predetermined duration, and a room arrangement conducive for conversing with one another. 25 The next level of preparation may exceed the control of the teacher, but she should insist on the element nonetheless. “All participants, including the moderator, should be prepared to change their minds as a result of the discussions in which they engage. They should be open to views that are new to them. They should be docile in considering such new views.” 26 The teacher reminds students to maintain humble truth-seeking attitudes throughout the discussion. These first two duties within the discussion prepare the teacher for the third duty, which is that of a moderator.

The third responsibility of the teacher is to take on the role of the moderator. Whereas the teacher may eventually allow mature students in an advanced class to moderate the discussion, the teacher is not completely released from the role. She remains a pivotal part of the discussion. The moderator’s tasks include “to ask a series of questions that control the discussion and give it direction; to examine the answers

25 Mortimer J. Adler, How to Speak, How to Listen, 173.

26

Humility and Habit of Truth-Seeking

by trying to evoke the reasons for them or the implications that they have; and to engage the participants in two-way talk with one another when the views they have advanced appear to be in conflict.” 27 The teacher may opt to engage in the conversation on a limited basis, especially for maturing students, but she remains responsible for the flow of the conversation. Regardless of whether she opts to interject, the teacher remains an active listener engaged in the flow of the conversation. Although Adler notes that the kind of learning which takes place in a Socratic dialogue depends on the questions the moderator poses, the rhetoric teacher can be confident the questions addressing the basics of terms, arguments, and context will be sufficient to invite rhetoric level students into lively conversations that stimulate active learning.

Conclusion

The Socratic discussion is an integral component of a classical liberal arts education. Although the process may challenge students and teachers alike for varied reasons, the discussion promotes a mindset that continues long after the last word is discussed. It stimulates disciplined, intellectual thinking through habits of truth-seeking. It promotes character development through humility in truth-seeking. The Socratic discussions are closely intertwined with active reading at all levels of the learning process. The discussion practices can begin at grammar levels through simple questions and responses between the teacher and the student. The logic level

27 Mortimer J. Adler, How to Speak, How to Listen, 173.

students participate with similar questions but more complex answers. By the time the rhetoric student engages in the discussions, she has taken ownership of her experience by posing the question herself during active reading in preparation for the discussion.

Beyond a doubt, the Socratic discussion can be an intimidating means of educating for any teacher. Hopefully, the awareness of character developments gained, namely habits of truth-seeking and humility in truth-seeking, summon the classical educator to take on the challenge. Most notably Adler acknowledges the benefits of ongoing conversations when he states, “Without continued learning through all the years of one’s adult life, no one can become a truly educated person, no matter how good the individual’s schooling has been.” 28 Whereas experience and increasing knowledge are valued, Adler highlights that the “benefits conferred upon the individual by engaging in profitable and pleasurable conversation with others about the discoveries of travel, about books read, about knowledge acquired, and about things understood…To consummate that process is to become an educated human being. That is why learning how to speak and listen well are of such great importance to us all.” 29 Let the teacher be challenged and encouraged.

28 Mortimer J. Adler, How to Speak, How to Listen, 197.

29 Mortimer J. Adler, How to Speak, How to Listen, 197–198.

Humility and Habit of Truth-Seeking

Karla Memmott earned a PhD in Humanities from Faulkner University. She is the Rhetoric Program Coordinator for Legacy Classical Academy and teaches rhetoric at Kepler Education. She lives in Fair Oaks, California where she homeschools her children. She and her husband Kyle are the founders of Acacia Classical Academy, which is a classical Christian home-schooling education experience designed to meet the rising needs of homeschooling families in their area. They enjoy hiking, camping, playing board games, and walking their dog Kona.

Review of From Achilles to Christ: Why Christians Should Read the Pagan Classics

by

Louis Markos

by Sean C. Hadley, PhD

Louis Markos is a known entity in classical education circles. Professor of English at Houston Baptist University and a regular speaker at the annual ACCS conference, Markos delivers witty wisdom steeped in a broad knowledge of the Bible as well as an impressive reference base in other literature. It is not surprising, given his interest in C. S. Lewis and apologetics, that Markos would offer a way of reading Greek and Roman mythology that builds towards a Christian perspective. From Achilles to Christ is not the redemption of classical myths, but an attempt to explain how these foundational stories reveal the need and desire for the One, True God: “Wherever man has sought with his entire being to perceive the truths of his Creator, God is there. He does not always approve, but he is always present.”1 Markos provides a concise summary of the main threads contained in the ancient

1 Louis Markos, From Achilles to Christ: Why Christians Should Read the Pagan Classics (Westmont, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2007), 22.

Greek and Roman literature, while constantly highlighting how these stories point to the coming of Christ. Markos lays out his book in a chronological format. Part One centers around the two great Homeric epics, and pays a little bit of attention to Hesiod’s Theogony. Markos spends much of this space highlighting the similarities between the Greek texts and their Biblical counterparts (i.e. Theogony and Genesis). Hesiod’s order from chaos is like Moses’. 2 Achilles’ wrath must not challenge powers beyond his comprehension, like many of the Old Testament saints. 3 Justice and hospitality are the marks of a moral man, both for Odysseus and for the Prophets.4 Part Two focuses on the Greek tragic cycles, such as the Oresteia and the Oedipus cycle. He highlights only certain plays, namely those which continue developing the idea that contained in these tragedies is the “song of the scapegoat.”5 He emphasizes the religious nature of the plays, and particular motifs which hint at a larger worldview. This is one of moments in the book where Markos is able to make a strong argument for seeing these stories as pagan proto-gospels, removed from the piety of the Jews but anticipating the coming of Christianity. Part Three concludes the book with an extensive look into Virgil’s Aeneid . Markos spends so much time on this singular book because, “like the writers of the Bible, Virgil held an eschatological vision of history in which the end not only explained but justified the suffering that preceded it.”6 While there has been substantial debate on the

2 Louis Markos, From Achilles to Christ, 33–35.

3 Louis Markos, From Achilles to Christ, 47–48.

4 Louis Markos, From Achilles to Christ, 96–98.

5 Louis Markos, From Achilles to Christ, 115.

6 Louis Markos, From Achilles to Christ, 201.

Louis Markos

Aeneid in its relation to the Roman Empire, and all the moral baggage that brings, Markos demonstrates clearly that there are values contained therein that Christians should take note of, supporting Dante’s choice for his guide through the Inferno as a result. Markos concludes with remarks reminiscent of C. S. Lewis, given the Englishman’s own great love for the pagan myths, and he then encourages readers to take in these stories as a way of drawing closer to the truth of Christianity. Overall, this book is helpful to those who are familiar with classical mythology, as well as those hearing about Prometheus for the first time. For those aware, Markos paints a big picture that is excellent and structured in an easy-to-follow manner. For example, when he examines Hesiod, Markos highlights an oft overlooked aspect of the Greek drama: Achilles was originally destined to be a god, but Zeus changed the course of fate in this instance.7 This concept keeps coming back up throughout the book, and Markos uses it to draw attention to aspects of Homer and Sophocles’ writings that would be easy to miss taking them in one at a time. This kind of intertextual reading, treating the stories not so much as atomistic literary monuments but as small parts of a larger tale, allows Markos to weave a beautiful tapestry out of these old stories. For newcomers to the classical world, Markos puts together a solid argument that Christians should read these pagan stories, for “if Christianity is true, then the God who created both us and the universe chose to reveal himself through a sacred story that resembles more the imaginative works of epic poets and tragedians than the rational meditations of philosophers and theologians.” 8 This is easily

7 Louis Markos, From Achilles to Christ, 34.

8 Louis Markos, From Achilles to Christ, 249.

Markos’ strongest argument throughout and serves as a poignant reminder that the things that are true will inevitably point people back to the Author of all Truth. Readers who are able to take in Markos’ argument will, I have no doubt, become better readers of their Bibles as a result. For that conglomeration of tales also contains a central thread, pointing back to God at every step of the way. ⸭

Sean C. Hadley is a graduate of New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary (M.Div., 2017) and Faulkner University’s Great Books program (PhD, 2023). His writings have been published in outlets such as The Imaginative Conservative, Touchstone magazine, and The Hemingway Review. He has given conference talks in a variety of settings, such as the annual Repairing the Ruins education conference and the annual Spring conference of the Ciceronian Society. For the last fifteen years, he taught in the classical Christian classroom, and he is currently the inaugural Postdoctoral Research Fellow with the Classical Education Research Lab at the University of Arkansas.

Book Review of Reading for the Long Run: Leading Struggling Students into the Reading Life

by Sara Osborne

by Gregory Soderberg, PhD

Reading is important for those of us in the world of classical Christian education. We love books, rightly so, and pour countless hours into helping our students unearth and appreciate the treasures of the past. But what if those hours aren’t enough? What do we do with students that just don’t fit the mold? Sometimes we try to squeeze the students into the mold, which sometimes breaks the student. Sometimes we throw away the mold, and just give up. Sara Osborne offers us a better way.

As a teacher and mother of a child who struggled with learning to read, Osborne offers some advice from the trenches. She believes in the value of the classics, and the value of reading. Each chapter is filled with practical examples from her own family’s experiences, along with a Q&A at the end of each chapter, featuring author and educator Dr. Kevin Clark and optometrist Dr. David Pierce.

Throughout the book, Osborne develops the theme of running, as an analogy for learning to read. As a long-time runner herself, she describes the various facets that make up

the life of a runner, and relates it to the process of helping struggling readers. It is truly a marathon, not a sprint, and so the metaphor works. Although a useful metaphor, at times the running analogy took on a life of its own and distracted a bit from the main point of the book. Although this book is filled with encouragement, insight, and practical tips on how to help struggling learners, I was left with one question—what about helping struggling readers in their teen years? The focus was on elementary experience, no doubt reflecting the author’s life experience with her own family. However, as a teacher who regularly hears complaints about how reading is a challenge for my teen students, I would have appreciated some tips and insight in this area. Perhaps in a revised edition.

Reading is essential in a classical Christian education, and Osborne’s book helps to fill a gap. Parents, teachers, and administrators will all find it useful to aid in understanding what challenges some readers face, and equip them with strategies to help them run the marathon before them. ⸭

Gregory Soderberg, PhD, teaches and mentors students of all ages at Kepler Education, the BibleMesh Institute, and Redemption Seminary. He writes at gregorysoderberg.substack.com and gregorysoderberg.wordpress.com.