I'm teaching Intro to Religion this summer at a local community college. Last night we did the chapter in the textbook on Faith and Reason, in which numerous philosophical proofs for God's existence are analyzed. Anselm's ontological argument generated by far the liveliest discussion. (If you're unfamiliar with the argument, I will direct you to the Wikipedia article, or Anselm's own words, rather than rehashing it here.)
In order for the argument to carry water, you have to accept Anselm's definition of God as "that than which nothing greater can be thought," and you have to grant that existence is a perfection. Put differently, to exist in reality is greater than to exist in the mind alone.
I expected push back on the definition. I also expected a certain amount of not-understanding for as long as it would take Anselm's tongue-twisting definition of the term "God" to sink in. I wondered if someone might not object along Guanilo's lines, i.e., Just because you can imagine a perfection doesn't mean said perfection exists, an objection that, by the way, Anselm disposes of when he points out that not just any mental construct of perfection necessarily exists, but only this one, given its unique features. I doubted that anyone would say what the textbook says, that the ontological argument doesn't prove God's existence, but only that you've defined the word "God" in a non-contradictory manner, but had someone proffered that objection, I'd have given them an A for the course on the spot.
Instead, what I got what push back on was the idea that existence is a perfection. "We can all agree, can't we, that to exist in reality is better than to exist in the mind alone, right?" I asked. Vigorous shaking of heads. No, no, no. Mental constructs are unlimited. Things in the real world are limited by time and space.
I was completely taken aback. Completely unprepared to defend this seemingly common-sensical assertion. I floundered around for a while until a student piped up, "Y'all think what's in your head is more real than reality? Y'all crazy!" I grabbed this lifeline and ran with it: "If you think the voices in your head are more real than my voice telling you they aren't real, then we need to stop this class and get everybody to a hospital." And with that I moved on.
It was fascinating to watch facial expressions once they fully comprehended the argument. I could see a knowing, almost sly smile develop on the face of one bright student who self identifies as a Christian. Another good student who self-identifies as an agnostic pointed vigorously at the chalk board and exclaimed "That's really cool!" A third student, whose religious views are unknown to me, but plays the role of class cynic, almost came out of his chair. "Nah, man! But that... you can't... Nah man!" It was as if he'd realized he'd been had by Anselm's deceptively innocuous definition.
I identify with the third student because that's basically the same way I reacted when I first read and comprehended the argument. I kept re-reading ch. 2-4 of the Proslogion in a disbelief bordering on anger thinking, "It can't be that simple, can it?"
The rest of the class? Who knows? They did seem entertained by all the arguing.
But I keep going back to the students' flat-out refusal to concede that real things are more real than mental images of them or anything else. What's that all about? Is it something about young adulthood that is reluctant to trim down unrealized potentiality into particulars, a particular job, spouse, locale, etc? Or is it me? Any tips in the comments on how better to teach the Ontological Argument will earn you an A++ in my grade book.
Recent Comments