the templates through which we see the world

We all look at the world a certain way. Whether we’ve actually analyzed it or not, we see the world through the “glasses” that are a part of who and what we currently are. In other words we all approach everything–from parenting to philosophy, from education to relationships–with presuppositions. These presuppositions serve as a template of sorts, an interpretive grid through which we perceive most everything.

That being the case, it is important, I think, that we–How shall I put it?–presuppose properly. While I have no full-proof formula, and though I am as prone to error as anyone, a number of ideas come to mind, including the following:

be aware that you have presuppositions

It’s amazing how two people can look at the same information, the same facts, and interpret them differently. One person interprets an argument as a purely negative event, while another sees it as an opportunity to clear the air and make things right. One person views strong competition as that which breeds failure and lowers self-esteem, while another views the same level of competition as an opportunity to improve. Of course we all tend to be fickle about a good many things, and so it’s not always easy to discern what our assumptions are. The point, though, is that we always assume something whenever we interpret reality. Our eyes are just that, ours. The “lenses” through which we see the world are our lenses.

One immensely helpful idea, therefore, is to simply realize that you, that we, that we all, assume various things when we look at life. Realizing this fact frees us from having to prove everything, for not everything can be demonstrated, at least not easily. Furthermore, it enables us to recognize that we, like everyone else, make assumptions along the way. If these prove valid, we can retain them. If, on the other hand, we recognize some flaw in our own assumptions, we can tweak or even reject our current viewpoint. None of this can happen, however, unless we at least realize that–for better or worse–we presuppose many things.

some presuppositions are better than others

How, though, do we determine whose presuppositions are right and whose are invalid? Sometimes, we can simply look at the facts and, to the best of our ability, determine that certain things are correct and others incorrect. A part of this relates to our historical context and the experiences we’ve had. If someone says that 2 + 2 = 5, we can show that such a view runs contrary to human experience with numbers and contradicts certain points of logic. In some areas, though, it will be difficult to prove with absolute certainty that “this” is a better option than “that.” At times, it is probably helpful, at least with certain individuals, to point out the usefulness of a given option. Certain ideas (liberty, freedom, fairness) have a history of success that, many would argue, is superior to other ideas (e.g., slavery, injustice). Not all will be convinced, of course, but some will, which is a good thing. Depending on the issue at hand, the validity of certain views (e.g., certain areas of science) might be shown through research and a sifting through the current data. But, at the end of the day, I think we need to truly embrace the idea that there is a type of reason, sensibleness, and logic, a kind of correctness, embedded into the universe. Thus, in the long run, the truth will eventually surface because there is a truth-maker. This, too, is a presupposition, and, I think, a helpful one.

life is designed to be a faith venture

This relates to the previous point. It seems that all of life demands faith. If we make claims of logic, we automatically assume such things as the reality of the universe and the ability of our cognitive equipment to detect facets of the universe. If we make a moral judgment, we assume a moral code and, possibly, a morality making deity. Faith, then, is embedded into the fabric of our lives. Though we can, of course, demonstrate many things, we are never afforded a faith-free access to the world. Whether or not our faith is in the right object, faith itself, even if it’s faith that there is no god, is inevitable. Of course believing that the moon is made of green cheese is not as convincing to most as, say, the effects of gravity. In any case, however, there is indeed the need for faith.

If this is the way the world has been constructed, one wonders whether this faith principle has been placed here on purpose. On a Christian reading of history, the necessity of faith is a reminder that the living God yearns for our attention, calling us to trust in and follow him.

Thus, if this faith venture is something that is part and parcel of the world we inhabit, there might be a corresponding reality to this impulse. While we obviously cannot create gods out of whole cloth, it could be that a true God, the God who placed this faith principle within each of us, would actually be “out there” to respond to our acts of faith, to hear our prayers, to interact with those who call on his name. Indeed, this is the Christian response to life, looking to the true God, the only God there is, and allowing our lives to connect with his.

we can know some things, but perfect or complete knowledge will always evade us

Truth is available. At least on a Christian understanding of the world, there is true stuff in the world, stuff we can access. Whatever our official views on many things, we all assume this principle each day. Though we may call ourselves relativists or agnostics, we all intuitively react to life as if it contains elements of truth, things on which we basically “hang our hats.”

That said, it is also painfully clear that we have nothing close to prefect or complete knowledge. Much evades our grasp and probably always will. And even the things we know with a measure of confidence are known in part.

Only God possesses complete knowledge, and this, I think, tells something about what we should presuppose (from a Christian angle) about ourselves. If we are created in God’s image, the image of a knowing deity, it makes sense that we would be able to know, as well. On the other hand, given that we are creatures (and not the creator) it also makes sense that there would be severe limitations on all of our efforts to know.

The way ahead, therefore, seems to involve the intersection of these two ideas. We can know, which is what makes knowledge a legitimate (indeed, necessary) venture. But we can never know fully, which ought to make us humble, propelling us forward in our quest to better know, and compelling us to look outside of ourselves to the one who alone can guide our efforts.

Okay, enough said for now. My point, simply, is that we all place our various templates on the world as we attempt to make sense of it. This, in my view, is not a bad thing, however, for it forces us to acknowledge our need of God, and this, I would argue, is ultimately good. After all, isn’t he the One who said that he honors the humble in heart? I suppose–here comes another presupposition–that our job, therefore, is to presuppose humbly yet confidently, knowing that as we walk by faith we do not walk alone.