More Hayekian Theology
Let me push the envelope further on my "Hayekian theology" points, hastening to note that I know of no reason to think Hayek himself ever applied his economic ideas to theology.
Hayek did apply his economic ideas to law, however, and there are enough parallels between law and theology to tempt me into deeper waters than I may be able to swim in.
There are 3 key tasks for a legal system, or any system of rules and principles: (1) generating rules and principles; (2) limiting the content of what you generate; and (3) resolving disputes about the application of what you generate. To start, I'll consider just the first.
Hayek argued that legal rules (not of the 55 m.p.h. speed limit variety but of the more general "negligent people must compensate the victims of their negligence" variety) were best generated by a process that relied heavily on custom and not particularly heavily on reason. (This is not to say that we can't use reason later to understand the rules, but that the rules themselves come out of a process that is not based on reason.)
In Law, Legislation and Liberty (I, 18), Hayek writes "'Learning from experience[,]' among men no less than among animals, is a process not primarily of reasoning but of observance, spreading, transmission and development of practices which have prevailed because they were successful - often not because they conferred any recognizable benefits on the acting individual but because they increased the chances of survival of the group to which he belonged."
Hayek explicitly rejects a role for planning in rule generation - individual rules need not be "rationally demonstrated or 'made clear and demonstrative to every individual" (LLL, I, 25). Man has not achieved "mastery of his surroundings mainly through his capacity for logical deduction from explicit premises" but by following rules that experience teaches work.
Suppose we have the Cult of Andy, in which the theology is whatever I say it is. If you want to know the answer to a theological question, just ask me and I will answer it. (The Cult of Me seems a fair description of how some folks approach theology - the "cafeteria Christian", for example, who picks and chooses individual doctrines or practices as suits himself or herself.) Such a religion will fall victim quite quickly to the combination of my self-interest (charity means give me your stuff) and my lack of ability to comprehend enough of the world to design a comprehensive theology that answers all of life's problems.
Compare this to a theology produced by a fractious bunch of clerics and confirmed by the practice of the church itself (I think that fairly describes Orthodoxy, esp. the fractious part.... I suspect, but the fathers may correct me on this, that it also describes to a greater or lesser degree, theological practice in other Christian denominations.) The experience of the church provides not reasoning (for that we have the Church Fathers, colleges of theology, etc.) but the confirmation that practices are correct from experience. Further, the putting into practice by the members of the church of the theology provides the members (clergy and laity alike) with the experience that brings success. In this case, success is not the rewards of the marketplace, but a closer relationship with Christ. It can also be defined as not ending up like the heretical Fr. Arius, whose guts liquified on his way to a church council. In other words, I need not rationally understand the Trinity, but if I follow the teachings of the Church that are based on the Church's understanding of the Trinity, I will come to a closer relationship with Christ than if I spin my wheels applying logic to the issue.
This is all still pretty preliminary thinking on my part, so I invite others to join in.
An aside: the account of Fr. Arius' death given by Socrates is mighty instructive:
(quote from Wikipedia).
A more powerful sign of the wrongness of the Arian heresy is hard to imagine. Markets don't give quite as dramatic a signal of bad business decisions (bankruptcy just doesn't rank up there with excreting one's spleen), and so the "market for theology" is aided in no small part by such signs.
Hayek did apply his economic ideas to law, however, and there are enough parallels between law and theology to tempt me into deeper waters than I may be able to swim in.
There are 3 key tasks for a legal system, or any system of rules and principles: (1) generating rules and principles; (2) limiting the content of what you generate; and (3) resolving disputes about the application of what you generate. To start, I'll consider just the first.
Hayek argued that legal rules (not of the 55 m.p.h. speed limit variety but of the more general "negligent people must compensate the victims of their negligence" variety) were best generated by a process that relied heavily on custom and not particularly heavily on reason. (This is not to say that we can't use reason later to understand the rules, but that the rules themselves come out of a process that is not based on reason.)
In Law, Legislation and Liberty (I, 18), Hayek writes "'Learning from experience[,]' among men no less than among animals, is a process not primarily of reasoning but of observance, spreading, transmission and development of practices which have prevailed because they were successful - often not because they conferred any recognizable benefits on the acting individual but because they increased the chances of survival of the group to which he belonged."
Hayek explicitly rejects a role for planning in rule generation - individual rules need not be "rationally demonstrated or 'made clear and demonstrative to every individual" (LLL, I, 25). Man has not achieved "mastery of his surroundings mainly through his capacity for logical deduction from explicit premises" but by following rules that experience teaches work.
Suppose we have the Cult of Andy, in which the theology is whatever I say it is. If you want to know the answer to a theological question, just ask me and I will answer it. (The Cult of Me seems a fair description of how some folks approach theology - the "cafeteria Christian", for example, who picks and chooses individual doctrines or practices as suits himself or herself.) Such a religion will fall victim quite quickly to the combination of my self-interest (charity means give me your stuff) and my lack of ability to comprehend enough of the world to design a comprehensive theology that answers all of life's problems.
Compare this to a theology produced by a fractious bunch of clerics and confirmed by the practice of the church itself (I think that fairly describes Orthodoxy, esp. the fractious part.... I suspect, but the fathers may correct me on this, that it also describes to a greater or lesser degree, theological practice in other Christian denominations.) The experience of the church provides not reasoning (for that we have the Church Fathers, colleges of theology, etc.) but the confirmation that practices are correct from experience. Further, the putting into practice by the members of the church of the theology provides the members (clergy and laity alike) with the experience that brings success. In this case, success is not the rewards of the marketplace, but a closer relationship with Christ. It can also be defined as not ending up like the heretical Fr. Arius, whose guts liquified on his way to a church council. In other words, I need not rationally understand the Trinity, but if I follow the teachings of the Church that are based on the Church's understanding of the Trinity, I will come to a closer relationship with Christ than if I spin my wheels applying logic to the issue.
This is all still pretty preliminary thinking on my part, so I invite others to join in.
An aside: the account of Fr. Arius' death given by Socrates is mighty instructive:
It was then Saturday, and . . . going out of the imperial palace, attended by a crowd of Eusebian [Eusebius of Nicomedia is meant] partisans like guards, he [Arius] paraded proudly through the midst of the city, attracting the notice of all the people. As he approached the place called Constantine's Forum, where the column of porphyry is erected, a terror arising from the remorse of conscience seized Arius, and with the terror a violent relaxation of the bowels: he therefore enquired whether there was a convenient place near, and being directed to the back of Constantine's Forum, he hastened thither. Soon after a faintness came over him, and together with the evacuations his bowels protruded, followed by a copious hemorrhage, and the descent of the smaller intestines: moreover portions of his spleen and liver were brought off in the effusion of blood, so that he almost immediately died. The scene of this catastrophe still is shown at Constantinople, as I have said, behind the shambles in the colonnade: and by persons going by pointing the finger at the place, there is a perpetual remembrance preserved of this extraordinary kind of death.
(quote from Wikipedia).
A more powerful sign of the wrongness of the Arian heresy is hard to imagine. Markets don't give quite as dramatic a signal of bad business decisions (bankruptcy just doesn't rank up there with excreting one's spleen), and so the "market for theology" is aided in no small part by such signs.
Posted by Andy Morriss on
Wednesday August 31, 2005 at 2:04pm
[(;-)# >+
In response to Scunning, though I can't comment on what a Hayekian theology might say, I can comment as an Orthodox Christian, who is rather fond of the "monopolistic periods," long before there were Scholastics or Reformers, in which the fundamental Truths of the Christian Faith were hammered out, sometimes with the blood of martyrs. Forgive me, I can only begin this & sketch it out most unsatisfactorily.
Orthdox dogmatic theology is "the harmonious hymn of theology" which the Fathers sing "in the midst of the Church." It is not the result of cogitating, debating, or monopolizing discussions. Rather, it is the fruit of holiness, a fruit produced in those who have a gift for articulating the common experience of the Church.
Holiness implies, very strongly, humility, in which I refuse to assert myself & create the opportunity for Christ & my neighbor to become greater. The words of the Forerunner, "He must increase, while I must decrease," are apropos here. By humility I create a space in which others become more.
The same thing obtains in Orthodox dogmatic theology. All that is idiosyncratic, individualistic, sinful, & partisan in me is overcome through genuine humility & holiness so that all that is Christ can shine through. Thus an Orthodox theologian seeks to articulate nothing at all of himself, nothing that could be construed as opinion, but rather only that which is the consensus of the Church. (This is why, also, Orthodox iconographers strictly follow the canons of their art & do not sign their Icons.)
The Church then, in her experience, "tastes" the words of a theologian to find in them the "savor" of Christ & His Church, of the common experience of the Church. If that savor is there, then the theologian has done his job & his work is recognized as an articulation of the common faith of the Church. If that savor is not there, his work will be like finding a stone in one's soup: it will be hard & indigestible, & it will be set aside.
In sum, Orthodox theology is not a matter of asserting anything at all, certainly not anything individual. Rather, it is bearing witness, a matter of laying aside everything, self-emptying, the "kenosis" of Galatians 2, humility. Only from such a position can anything authentic be expressed.
Where there have been political influences in the history of the Church -- & here I can speak only of the Orthodox East --, they have never affected dogma for long; the Church has always reasserted herself in the face of political meddling.
Forgive me. I haven't time for more except to say this: in keeping what I have written here, do not expect a debate over theology from me. You won't get it. I hold the Gospel too dearly to drag it through a slough of debates, Bible-thumping, or dueling verses. If any have a question, I am happy to answer to the best of my ability. If any want to discuss, I am happy to discuss. If any are itchin' for a fight, though, they can look somehwere else.