My dad’s favorite word is epistemology. The word itself means the basis for knowledge—how you know something (‘the nature and ground of knowledge’). How do you know the sky is blue? You might respond by saying that you see it. In other words, you know on the basis of your senses. But what if your senses fool you? Or what if reality is an illusion (enter The Matrix)? This was the problem Descartes faced. How does he know he exists? His conclusion was, I think, therefore I am. I know because I am a rational creature—a thinking person. Scholars generally take him (the general time period) to be the beginning of the Enlightenment.
I would encourage you to listen Episode 435 of Jordan Peterson talking with Michael Shellenberger (YouTube | Twitter), especially the last two-thirds in its entirety! One of the breathtaking ideas that Peterson argues is that the Enlightenment is at an end—the idea of knowledge simply through observation and rationality is insufficient. Why? There is an infinite amount of data and because of this, we order these data in a value hierarchy. We have to select some and discard others and we have to put some above others. The way we do this is through narrative. We embed our values in stories. We see everything through stories. We don’t simply see a cup or a dog or a sky. We see these in relation to a micro- (or macro-) story.
In other words, there is an epistemology of narrative. We know through story.
I can’t tell you how excited and captivated I am by this idea. Of course! This is why most of the Bible is narrative. Jesus communicates much of his content through parables—short stories. Why do we love movies, novels, fairy tales? Story… duh! And the stories themselves are communicating, if they reflect the good, the beautiful, and the true, something fundamental about reality (foundational, indeed, epistemological). If you listened to the entire podcast above, there are several examples in that conversation. The devouring mother, represented by the evil queen in Snow White. Snakes appear when you lose faith (Num. 21:4-9). Striking the rock (using force) instead of speaking to it denies you entry into the Promised Land (Num. 20:10-13).
It is important to understand that this idea of knowledge through narrative is not simply about the past, that is, history. One of the ways you know right now (in the present) is through story. Plato’s theory of forms was that the thing itself, such as the cup, was a cup insofar as it reflected the form of The Ideal Cup. In knowledge through story, instead, we view the cup within a narrative—does it hold water, is it the ‘right’ shape and size, does it function in the way I need it to at this moment? The way we do that is in a micro-narrative. The very definition of a ‘good’ cup is not that it reflects an ‘ideal form,’ but rather that it fits within the micro-story we are telling at the moment. I want a cup to make coffee because I am feeling sleepy and want to stay awake so I can do my chores. This is a micro-story. I’m at the edge of my own knowledge here, so back to the Bible.
Because the value structures themselves are encoded in the narratives we tell ourselves, what happens when we start denying the fundamental narratives? And substituting our own stories, encoded with our own values? I agree with Peterson that the Biblical corpus contains the (rightly-ordered) value structures of humanity encoded into the text, with these being supervised by, indeed inspired by, God Himself. At the top of each value structure must be God, by necessity (He is that which there is no one higher)! Which is what the stories in the Bible attempt to do. And thus, we reject these stories at our own peril!
We exist in an embodied reality, made to live in-story (‘enstoried’?), and when we are aligned with the ‘right’ value hierarchy (via the ‘right’ narratives), we are indwelt by the Spirit of God, who is the highest of all value. When you stand ‘rightly’ under the umbrella, you stay dry.
Peterson closes the referenced podcast with the imagery of the mother and the child. If you reject this (Biblical) story (Mary and her son), he suggests you end up with the whore of Babylon. In other words, if you won’t accept God’s story, He’ll give you over to your own (Romans 1). If you refuse to be a servant to the highest good (Him), you end up as a slave to yourself and its appetites.
This narrative emphasis—no, knowledge pathway—will be useful going forward as I continue through Wright and other Biblical passages.