No Worldview Is Without Difficulties—And That’s OK

Not every question is a problem, and not every problem is serious.

There’s little less believable than the idea that someone has zero intellectual struggles with their—as the Germans call it—Weltanschauung, which, though it sounds like something you’d put mustard on, actually means "world outlook" (or, as it’s more commonly called these days, worldview). To me, this signals one of two things: ignorance or dishonesty. Either they’ve simply never thought very deeply about their worldview—their philosophical Big Picture, as it were—particularly in relation to what smart people who disagree have to say about it, or they’re just not being honest about how they really feel.

As we know, every theory has its anomalies—things that don’t fit as neatly as one would like, things that aren’t as well anticipated or predicted by the theory, and, in some cases, things that don’t seem to fit at all, even appearing to conflict with the basic commitments of one’s theory. Tension comes in degrees—there’s a difference, of course, between not seeing how certain things fit (call that a puzzle or paradox) and actively seeing that certain things do not fit (call that a contradiction). Contradictions, if they persist, are a real death blow to certain positions, but tensions are not. In many cases, tensions can be resolved by thinking more deeply about a theory and its implications; in others, they can simply be lived with. One might reasonably say, “Fair enough, I’m not sure how this fits into my worldview, but I also don’t see that it absolutely doesn’t fit, and I have good reasons for believing what I do, so I’ll live with this for now. Perhaps, if I’m lucky or smart enough, I’ll figure it out later. If not, then oh well.”

Personally, I wrestle with various aspects of my Weltanschauung, which probably stems, at least in part, from holding more commitments than the average Wisconsin bearded father. After all, I’m not just a classical theist but a Catholic, and Catholicism entails a lot. (Though, as I’ve argued, this isn’t necessarily a mark against its inherent plausibility.) This abundance of commitments opens up plenty of opportunities for things to seem at odds—at least on the surface. As someone who obsesses over puzzles and tensions—since that is, after all, the philosophical spirit—this has given me a tremendous amount to think about. What I have found is that, in many cases, I come to discover the true depth of the Church’s wisdom. Thus, my confidence tends to increase as I work through various apparent tensions or puzzles.

But not always. If someone were to ask me what, in particular, bothers me about being Catholic—that is, intellectually—I can give several examples. The current controversy on the death penalty is one of them; definitely a tension, something that doesn’t fit neatly and is quite bothersome. As I’ve pointed out before, this really has nothing to do with whether I, or anyone, thinks the death penalty is permissible. It’s about a much deeper issue for Catholics: the consistency of doctrinal development and the indefectibility of the Church (and, by extension, papal infallibility). For those unfamiliar, Pope Francis has issued statements that are clearly at odds with prior Church teachings—that’s the tension—and the ways various Catholics try to resolve this often lead them to positions that, in my view, end up flatly contradicting the Catholic faith. In fact, rather than solving the issue, they often turn the puzzle into an actual deathblow to consistency without realizing it. To my mind, it’s far better to say that Pope Francis, since he hasn’t been speaking infallibly on the matter (as admitted), is simply mistaken. That’s not a comfortable position—in fact, it’s a bit embarrassing, and certainly scandalous in certain respects—but I believe it’s the actual truth. This way, we’re left with an uncomfortable tension rather than an outright falsification. Still, if I’m being honest, which I try to be at least 97.3% of the time (as Mark Twain once said, we’re only completely honest when we’re dead—and even then, we might still be lying), it’s a bothersome issue.

As for theism itself, the problem of evil is obviously a tough one. I’ve done my best to resolve it intellectually—and, honestly, I think I’ve reached intellectual satisfaction on the matter—but it would be absurd to say it doesn’t still weigh on me, especially when one faces the horrors of the world intimately, not just philosophically. For example (warning; it’s graphic). I’ll also admit freely that other objections raise interesting and difficult puzzles. For instance, how a purely actual, immutable being knows contingent realities without undergoing intrinsic change—that’s certainly intriguing. I think I have an answer (hopefully, a published one, shortly), but that answer involves accepting something that sounds rather spooky. Is that itself a cost or a tension? I go back and forth. Part of me says yes, because it seems so unfamiliar, but another part of me says no, because why should God, the Transcendent Absolute, feel familiar? My own philosophical background suggests that I should expect God to be radically other, especially in terms of being and knowing.

But again, this is just personal reporting. I’m simply sharing the kinds of things that keep me wondering, guessing, occasionally doubting, or considering new ways of thinking. And, of course, I have a million questions I haven’t answered yet, most of which I probably won’t be able to answer in this lifetime. But as I’ve said before, questions aren’t necessarily problems—they’re just opportunities for exploration.

Here’s the good news—at least for me: While I’ll freely admit the difficulties and bothersome aspects of my—here’s that word I can’t seem to get enough of... where is it? Ah yes: Weltanschauung—I can definitely say this: I’ve thought about it deeply, I’ve read and engaged not only with smart people who disagree but with the smartest relevant experts who disagree, and, at the end of the day, I still very much find myself saying, Yeah, I really do think all this is true!

Of course, I could be wrong, as could anyone. But I’m comfortably confident—and one of the unique (cool? Absolutely.) aspects of being Catholic is that you’re not expected to figure out every single little thing before committing to a religious life. After all, it’s faith seeking understanding, not understanding seeking faith. I didn’t quite appreciate that at first, but, having been Catholic for almost seven years now, I can tell you how significant that is. Behind all my philosophical endeavors, there’s a profound act of... well, trust.