Reviews for Torn between Love, Religion and Responsibility

The average rating for Torn between Love, Religion and Responsibility based on 2 reviews is 4 stars.

Review # 1 was written on 2021-06-17 00:00:00 john kurpiel The Ur-text for much modern theology, these 1799 essays attempt to promote the idea of religion to an elite audience versed in the very latest transcendental philosophy. Religion isn't what they thought it was, it turns out to a intuitive sensibility for the relation of the finite to the infinite cosmos, and as such may be manifest throughout culture and in different religions. FS is happiest when describing non-historical idealised religious communities, less successful in connecting these ideas with actual-existing "positive religions", which seem to be incurably corrupted yet nevertheless objects of his recommendation. It's obscure how notions of *authority* can fit in his model, if true religion is a simple intuition by a pure heart - if there is to be any worldly church or community at all, then it should be a form of Quakerism or something like Tolstoyism, nothing like the conventional state-sanctioned faith. Underlying all this are unexamined prejudices whereby non-christians are merely superstitious and barely worth notice, and the Jews and Catholics not much better (though of course they can all be converted to the light of true Protestantism). Deism is criticised for being thin gruel compared to the positive religion it despises, yet his own conception (which was explicitly distinguished from any metaphysics or morality) would be equally lacking. There is a switch going on here: "religion" is being used both in a newly-invented sense, and also passed off as meaning the traditional entity, whose prestige is to be transfered to it. It's the game that Giles Fraser and modern liberal Anglican cohorts play as well, and it started here, with a bunch of other ideas that appear in Hegel and Kierkegaard.

Review # 2 was written on 2016-11-03 00:00:00 Eric Lalor This book was very useful to me, from a Wittgensteinian perspective, while I was trying to think about the so-called 'primitive reaction' that enables belief. In this case, Schleiermacher was useful in helping me understand what sort of reaction to life as a whole is embodied in Christian doctrine. This attitude seems to be put most clearly in this book, as Schleiermacher outlines the feeling of complete dependency on the Whole. Schleiermacher is so useful because he is very honest, it seems, with himself. He also seems to give 'outsiders,' as it were, a way to begin using religious terminology as he defines things like miracle, revelation and inspiration. I think this book is extremely useful if one wants to think about Christian religion in light of Wittgenstein's philosophy. It becomes clear that Schleiermacher, when talking about religion, is talking about the comprehension of the Universe as a whole (86). He goes on to say that doctrines and dogmas are contemplations of this feeling (87). Schleiermacher recognizes that this exposition of religious language, as an expression of a certain feeling, puts it in a distinct language game: “Religion, however loudly it may demand back all those well abused conceptions, leaves your physics untouched, and please God, also your psychology” (88). He goes on, in this light, to describe the uses of religious terms. A ‘miracle’ is ‘simply the religious name for an event’ (88). A ‘revelation’ is every ‘original and new communication of the Universe to man’ (89). I take this to mean that anytime language gives perspective to life, then it is revelatory language—if it is not a common formulation. Inspiration is ‘the general expression for the feeling of true morality and freedom’ (89). I take this to mean that religious people use the word ‘inspiration’ when they are talking about that which calls them into being (i.e., that which, in spite of there not being anything which we desire, moves one to act). A ‘prophecy’ is simply ‘anticipation of the other half of a religious event, one half being given’ (89). Lastly, the ‘operation of grace’ is ‘the common expression for revelation and inspiration’ (90). This is different from revelation or inspiration in and of themselves because, it seems, the revelation, in this instance, is synonymous with inspiration. That is to say, the revelation is oneself—one’s actions—and that which works in oneself, the inspiration.’ It seems similar to Bultmann’s ‘must.’ Perhaps it is reminiscent of Paul’s ‘not me but Christ in me.’ Schleiermacher goes on to make a distinction between true belief and false belief (90-91). This seems to be the distinction between faith, on the one hand, and belief as intellectual assent to doctrines on the other. This point is well taken, given our previous discussions about it: “Not every person has religion who believes in a sacred writing, but only the man who has a lively and immediate understanding of it, and who, therefore, so far as he himself is concerned, could most easily do without it’ (91). Although Schleiermacher calls ‘God’ and ‘immortality’ ideas as opposed to feelings—and I am not sure what to make of this distinction, it does not seem reasonable—, he points to ‘God’ as a unifying concept ‘in whom alone the particular thing is one and all’ (93). ‘Is not God the highest, the only unity?’ ‘And if you see the world as a Whole, a Universe, can you do it otherwise than in God?’ (94). But this is not what it is to know God for religious people (94). The religious way of knowing God is not tied to any subject-predicate distinction—the term ‘God’ has instances of meaning as it is given ‘attributes’ (94). Phillips agrees here, and this seems to be the point at which Schleiermacher differs from Dewey, most drastically. ‘God’ is not simply one subject with one predicate (i.e., God is not simply the unity of the Universe); ‘God’ is ‘the sum of all higher feelings’ (85). This ties together the concept of God with the concept of immortality. Eternal life—that quality of life which every pious person has—is knowing God. In this sense, to embrace ‘the sum of all higher feelings’ is to, at the same time live content in our relation to God ‘wherein all that is individual and fleeting disappears’ (100). This is to say that living out of one’s feeling of dependence to God enables on to (1) not be disturbed by contingency and (2) maximize ‘the operation of grace’ (90). This seems to be the notion of joy. Although I am confused about Schleiermacher’s distinctions between ideas and feeling, I think his exposition of religious concepts is very useful—it enables one to see where once it was dark. I am, of course, talking about myself.