My Favorite Philosophers and Theologians, and What They Taught Me During My College Career
- Alex Renner
- Oct 19, 2022
- 4 min read
Updated: Jun 7, 2023
My favorite philosophers, and what they have taught me.
Preface: All of the philosophers I mention below have given me some crucial insight that has in turn helped me understand and construct ways of talking about life and people which I have found to be, in the last analysis, largely helpful.
Ludwig Wittgenstein:
Wittgenstein showed me the limits of my language. Since I live and move in a college context, I undoubtedly hear some crazy stuff come from the mouths of students (and from my mouth, on occasion). Especially being in an evangelical context, I have witnessed people say things that have clearly extended beyond the scope of what many consider helpful or necessary within the realm of Christian theological speaking. Wittgenstein's primary idea, that we must be silent about that which we cannot definitely know or observe, hit home for me as I was surrounded by people saying some truly weird things. He gave me a certain linguistic humility towards the things I flippantly assume or talk about, and for that I am grateful. He showed me that at the end of the day (though he was not a Christian), it is not heretical to admit that the limits of our language are the limits of our world.
Beyond the speaking aspect, Wittgenstein also showed me the nearness of the world. He showed me, in an admittedly unspeakable way (wink wink) that: "the world is all that is the case" if God is not revealed in Christ.
Karl Barth:
Barth showed me that God is revealed in Christ! His primary idea, that the world as we know and experience it as limited human beings is inherently chaotic and terribly broken, exclusivized God's revelation to the person of Christ. Where Christ is not, God is not. Where God is not explicit in his self-revelation, Christ is not. Therefore, Christ is the exclusive revelation of the Triune God. Like Wittgenstein, too, Barth showed me that if God is not revealed in Christ (the only Way God could reveal himself) than we are truly lost: spiritually, philosophically, and personally. Any philosophy or worldview that "smuggles in" philosophical presuppositions not originating in the person of Christ (like "General revelation") is useless in telling us anything true about our relationship to God, or life, or Being. The truth of the Christian faith stands or falls on the doctrine of the Incarnation.
Hans-Georg Gadamer:
Gadamer, alongside his contemporary Martin Heidegger, showed me my own creatureliness. As an academic he was chiefly concerned with the reading of texts, so I automatically took a liking to him since he helped give me a wider range of hermeneutical understanding. As a man, however, he taught me that Truth, though it is a real thing (a "thing-in-itself" or "out there"), is not always comprehended by empirical or rational means. In fact, as the Reformed world asserts (from which I was exiting at the time I read Gadamer), Truth many times apprehends and comprehends you. When you are subdued and carried along by Truth, many times you have no say in the change it affects in your very soul. He helped me round out the criticisms I had begun to have against those Christian apologists who base their whole "conviction" of the truth of Christ on purely rational or material grounds. He helped me see that the Truth of Christ is many times comprehended fully outside of the academy, outside of the greedy fingers of hard-line foundationalists. I became convinced that the Truth of Christ, after reading him and numerous Eastern Orthodox theologians, is a communal, experiential affair, as Christ forms you into his image after lifelong participation in His Life and within His Church. In short, Gadamer showed me the limited nature of my own ability to understand or comprehend objective truth, however much I wanted to hold onto the belief that I have the total ability to comprehend it. We all have "horizons" which define our understanding in ways we can't even hope to comprehend in their entirety (but which does not negate the true reality of things outside those horizons), and for that realization I thank Hans-Georg.
Fyodor Dostoevsky:
Dostoevsky showed me the indescribable nature of God's ways, and the beauty of faith and the love that accompanies it. He also showed me that those who would rely on the Lord in extreme situations (like poverty) are the ones most in love with Christ, and the ones most aware of their own need. He showed me that Christ's call to love God and love other people is an inseparably-bonded deal. In other words, you cannot love God without loving other people, and you cannot (in the deepest ways) love other people without loving God.
My theology professor:
My theology professor, who will remain unnamed, showed me many of the thinkers above; most importantly, though, he reminded me of my purpose as a Christian in the first place: to love and serve rightly, and to worship God rightly. When I first came to the college that I now attend, I had a passion for the faith that rightly dictated me as a fanatic. I had let that fanaticism (for good things, mind you) blind me to the people around me and the purpose for which I was alive, and had caused me to separate myself from those who I saw as not as committed to Christ as I was (or who didn't believe the specific doctrinal points that I held). Now, though I still think what I was passionate about is still central to my life, I see that, just as I wrote above, people are in need of a helping, compassionate hand, and it is my duty (and privilege) to provide that for them. My theology professor functioned as the voice of God during my second year here, and reminded me to return to my first love by taking up the cross of Love that I remember so clearly picking up when I first fell in love with Christ. Above all, he reminded me to love people again. For that, more than any of these other thinkers, I am most grateful.
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