Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Corvallis, Oregon

“How Do We Know What We Know?”
Sunday, November 09, 2008
by Rev. Dr. Gretchen Woods

 

            When I was writing my doctoral dissertation, my supervisor, the Rev. Dr. Lloyd Averill, insisted that I could not enter into any serious consideration of theology or what is ultimate without answering the question, “How do we know what we know?” Addressing this question involves epistemology, defined as “ . . . the study of human knowledge,” (James L. Christian, Philosophy: An Introduction to the Art of Wondering, 2nd ed. p. 169.) or, more specifically, “. . . the study of the nature and validity of human knowledge.” (Encyclopaedia Britannica, 15th ed. s.v. “epistemology”)

While this may seem quite esoteric and impractical, epistemology actually studies the basis for our survival as individuals and as a species. As James Christian tells us, “In exploring this field we are touching one of evolution’s fundamental mechanisms for survival, for it is by knowledge that we orient ourselves in the world. (Christian, p. 179.) When we engage in epistemology, we try to understand what it is that we know and can trust to keep us alive in the world. Epistemology involves examining ourselves and is, therefore, subjective. Given that caveat, I should like to explain my understanding of how we know what we know and how this is related to religion, ultimology, and experience.

I begin with experience, because I believe it is the basic unit of knowledge. It is NOT knowledge itself, but, rather, the building block necessary for knowledge. For me, experience is the starting point of knowledge. A particular experience is an event or, as Alfred North Whitehead calls it, an “. . . actual occasion.” (Whitehead, Process and Reality, An Essay in Cosmology, p. 18.) It is the basis for our knowledge and occurs at a level before language, before there is any split between intellect and emotion.

This perspective, of course, is based upon the assumption that there is a self which has experiences and can build knowledge from them. As Paul Tillich asserts, “Every epistological assertion is implicitly ontological.” (Paul Tillich, Systematic Theology, Vol 1. p. 71.) That is a very fancy way of saying, “When we speak of what we know, we must also be speaking of our way of being in the world.” If we cannot agree that a self can exist, then we may as well not proceed at all, for all that follows would be rendered meaningless.

There are four sources of experience that provide the self with building blocks for knowledge. They are: our senses (empirical knowledge), reason (rational knowledge), intuition (knowledge from the preconscious), and authority (knowledge from others). (Christian, pp. 180-188.) To these I would add mysticism or spirituality (though this might fall under intuition), as a direct connection with the totality of consciousness that is Truth or Consciousness as Such. These sources provide the self experience from which to build knowledge. I may touch a hot burner on the stove which gives me the experience of being burned. I create within my self a structure of meaning about this; hence, I know at the deepest level of my being that this is undesirable, not to mention dangerous. I may not be able to convey this knowledge to others, but I know. It is information upon which I can base my activities in the world and which will aid my survival.

We can not convey knowledge until we take our internal knowing, or structure of meaning, and make it intelligible to others. This involves using language or metaphor of some sort (the arts come to mind here) that is a culturally agreed upon vehicle to convey our experience. This vehicle, be it metaphor or language, is a way of conveying our knowing or structure of meaning. Our language comes from our social contacts within our culture. It forms and frames the way we share our knowing. Through the acquisition of language, I not only know that the glowing burner is “hot” and will “burn,” I can tell others this information. This information can help others to learn about things that are “hot” and “burn” without having to experience their dangers. This knowledge will aid in everyone’s survival in the world. Now there is not only an experience that enables me to make sense of my world and to survive in it, there is a means with which I can share that experience. Thus, epistemology, examines our knowing (structures of meaning) and the ways in which we share that knowing (metaphor or language).

I am aware that I differ from many social scientists and theologians who believe that language is essential for knowing. My experience asserts that, most often, the experience of knowing precedes the effort to convey the knowledge. Our efforts to make our knowing intelligible result, not only in language, but in the arts and other methods of communication, like body language, which may or may not be viewed as language.

When we ask, how do we know what we know, we respond to two basic questions: “What is true? And “What is important?” These are questions that are essential for survival. I submit that these are also the basic questions that religion sets forth to answer at the deepest level of human experience. “Religion is the search for that meaning which has power to give shape to experience, purpose to existence, and motivation and moral energy to human enterprise.” (definition offered by Lloyd Averill in a D. Min. seminar at Northwest Theological Union on February 6, 1990.) As such, religion is a process, rather than an institution. The confusion over the true meaning of religion and religions led Wilfred Cantwell Smith to suggest that the word be dropped from usage. Rather than adopting this response, I suggest we reframe our thinking to agree that religion is a process of seeking that which is most meaningful and which religious institutions are – or should be - organized to encourage and support. That this may not be reflected in our personal experience of religious institutions does not negate the value of this definition.

            If we can agree to this definition of religion, then the meaning of ultimology takes a new turn. Ultimology becomes the intentional study of the knowing that results from the religious search for that which is most meaningful in our lives and, more specifically, the study of the metaphors with which we convey that knowing. When we ask how we know what we know, we are concerned with all knowledge, great and small. Ultimology is more specifically directed toward that knowledge which reaches deepest into our sense of meaning: meaning beyond our selves. Ultimology could be called a specific branch of epistemology, dealing with that which is most important and gives most meaning, i.e., religion.

            A great deal of confusion arises when considering the object of this search that is religion, for, not only is religion itself a process, but its object (whether called Truth, God, Allah, Brahma, mystery, or, simply meaning) is also in process. We have yet to develop fully language that is satisfactory for discussing processes, for we are still generally enmeshed in language that is mechanistic and deals more with things than processes. This cultural lapse limits our ability to articulate effectively our experience and knowing about what is ultimate, as both are processes, not things, and our current language is not adequate to address this problem. Poetry, or the graphic and musical arts or dance, as language that allows for more levels of meaning may prove to be more effective in conveying the essential knowledge about what is ultimate. Many of us find our inspiration, not in prose, but in the work of Mary Oliver or Kenneth Rexroth. Still, I choose to attempt to make some sense of my knowing about my experience of what is ultimate through this prose, knowing its limitations and its value for conveying meaning.

This assertion that both religion and whatever is ultimate are in process may be very confusing to those who wish to think of God or Source or religion or theology as completed things. It will, however, be liberating for those who find their knowing is based upon processes and not things. It is for those that this will be most intelligible, for our knowing derives from experiences that can only be explained as processes.

            As process, my knowing is changing because my consciousness is changing – I would hope toward greater consciousness. The danger into which we always slip is the danger of reifying (making real) the models, metaphors, and/or structures that we build. This entire work is an attempt to articulate my structure of meaning based upon the limited language that I possess at the time. It may make sense to you – if you resonate with my structure. It may not. We need humbly to remember that our structures or models are not real. They are simply metaphors we have built from our limited language and consciousness. They point toward a greater consciousness than that which our language can approximate.

            Why then engage in the process of ultimology at all? I believe that ultimology must be done to add to the total consciousness that is available My structure is limited by my consciousness and my ability to express it, but it is worth adding to that which already exists. I bring it forward, not for affirmation or justification, but to encourage polylogue (give and take of consciousness) and further exploration by and with others, that the whole may continue to grow.

            For I believe that there is reality: the total of all that was and is. There is truth about that reality. This truth can only be known in part by any one of us. We each experience a part of it, but not the whole. When we share our structures of meaning, we have the opportunity to come closer to the whole of truth about reality. When we share our structures of meaning, we may grow in consciousness of reality. Our Source embraces the totality of reality – and much more than we can comprehend.

            Consider a diamond. No one of us can see all of it at once. Our position relative to the diamond determines which facets catch the most light and which are lost to us. Recognizing that we can only view the diamond from our perspective, we may gain much more knowledge by engaging in interchange with others who can see it from other perspectives. If the diamond is our Source, we gain far more insight about our Source by sharing our knowing with others. This is why we “do ultimology.” We need to share our knowing and add to the whole.

            There are many different ways to be human – at least sixteen, if Isabel Briggs Myers is correct. Recognizing that the experiences of each individual are responded to from vastly different frames of reference, polylogue enables each and all to approach truth – and our Source – more closely. No one has a corner on experience of that which brings most meaning and truth. We need to share our structures of meaning. Sharing our structures of meaning helps us through life by bringing us closer and closer to knowing what is most true and what is most important. It deepens our ultimology.

            Our sense of trust in what we know is true and most important is our faith. Our faith is our response to that in which we trust, that to which we cling for support in life, that which we know. To be worthy of our faith, our structures of meaning must be able to address mystery and to allow for paradox and the random we encounter. They must be able to respond creatively to experiences of good and evil from birth to death. Our faith is our response of trust in that which we encounter through our search for meaning, our response to our experience of our Source. And we share this faith because we care for one another.

I am struck by Alicia Ostriker’s assertion: “Everywoman Her Own Theology”:

I am nailing them up to the cathedral door

Like Martin Luther. Actually, nop,

I don’t want to resemble that Schmutzkopf

(See Erik Erikson and N. O. Brown

On the Reformer’s anal aberrations,

Not to mention his hatred of Jews and Peasants),

So I am thumbtacking these ninety-five

Theses to the bulletin board in my kitchen.

 

My proposals, or should I say requirements,

Include at least one image of a god,

Virile, beard optional, one of a goddess,

Nubile, breast size approximating mine,

One divine baby, one lion, one lamb,

All nude as figs, all dancing wildly,

All shining. Reproducible

In marble, metal, in fact any material.

 

Ethically, I am looking for

An absolute endorsement of loving-kindness

No loopholes, except maybe mosquitoes

Virtue and sin will henceforth be discouraged,

Along with suffering and martyrdom

There will be no concept of infidels;

Consequently the faithful must entertain

Themselves some other way than killing infidels.

 

And so forth and do on. I understand

This piece of paper is going to be

Spattered with wine one night at a party

And covered over with newer pieces of paper.

That is how it goes with bulletin boards.

Nevertheless it will be there

Like an invitation, like a chalk pentangle,

It will emanate certain occult vibration.

 

If something sacred wants to swoop from the universe

Through a ceiling, and materialize,

Folding its silver wings,

In a kitchen, and bump its chest against mine,

My paper will tell this being where to find me.

 

 

I hope each of us will be intentional enough to offer this to the rest of us: our declaration of our knowing, our faith, with respect, responsibility, and relish for the process.

So Be it Blessed be

 

“How Do We Know What We Know?”
Sunday, November 09, 2008

Order of Service

9:30 AM and 11:00 AM

Children will be in their classes all morning.

 

Welcome and Announcements

 

Choral Introit

 

Chalice Lighting: We kindle the flame of our faith

aware that each of us seeks its light

to show us the way of truth and understanding,

fully conscious that that may prove different for each one of us,

yet knowing that its warmth and illumination is needed

for the whole community. May we be lights to one another!

 

Opening Words:

Out of many different places and spaces

We come together with fear and hope,

Aware of the challenges that face us in this world.

Despite our questions and hesitation

We connect and join our energies into a whole

That is truly greater than its parts

If we each bring the whole of our selves,

To this moment, and to the search. May it be so!

 

Opening Song: #338 “I Seek the Spirit of a Child”

 

Reading: “The Great End of Religious Instruction”

by William Ellery Channing

Celebrating with Music: Teach Me Well” by Teresa Jennings

Sermon: “How Do We Know What We Know”

 

Sung Response: #403 “Spirit of Truth”

Spoken Response

 

Candles: Milestones of Joy and Sorrow

Meditation

 

Closing Song: #295 “Sing Out Praises for the Journey” (verses 1 & 2)

Closing Words

Closing Song: #295 (verse 3)

 

Celebrants: Cliff Pereira and the Rev. Dr. Gretchen Woods

 

Reading: “The Great End of Religious Instruction”

by William Ellery Channing

The great end in religious instruction is not to stamp our minds upon the young, but to stir up their own; not to make them see with our eyes, but to look inquiringly and steadily with their own; not to give them a definite amount of knowledge, but to inspire a fervent love of truth; not to form an outward regularity, but to touch inward springs; not to bind them by ineradicable prejudices to our particular sect or peculiar notions, but to prepare them for impartial, conscientious judging of whatever subjects may be offered to their decision; not to burden the memory, but to quicken and strengthen the power of thought; not to impose religion upon them in the form of arbitrary rules, but to awaken the conscience, the moral discernment, In a word, the great end is to awaken the soul, to excite and cherish spiritual life.