Jesus, the Philosopher
This question was posed by the
moderator at an early Republican presidential debate in 1999: “Who is your
favorite political philosopher?” George W. Bush surprised, if not stunned, his
fellow candidates, moderator, and audience when he tersely declared, “Jesus
Christ, because he changed my life.”
At the philosophical level, we
might say candidate Bush dropped the ball. He gave a religious or devotional
justification for his choice of Jesus as favorite philosopher instead of
stipulating just what it was about Jesus as
a philosopher that he valued above other philosophers.
Public reaction to Bush’s one-liner
ranged all over the political map. Was his response just shameless, pious
posturing? Or was it a sincere and disarmingly modest confession—or just
inappropriate in that setting however sincere it may have been? In any event,
Bush’s clipped but controversial response raises a deeper question largely if
not entirely avoided in the popular press: Was Jesus—whatever else he may have
been—a bona fide philosopher? If the
answer is Yes, several other engaging sorts of questions emerge: What kind of
philosopher was he? What did he believe and why? How does his philosophy relate
to that of other philosophers? Does his philosophizing have anything to
contribute to contemporary philosophical debates? Further, just what is a
philosopher anyway?
Most
reference books in philosophy say that Jesus was not a philosopher, given their
omissions. For example, The Encyclopedia
of Philosophy (1967), long a standard reference work, has no entry under
“Jesus” or “Christ.” The newer and well-respected Routledge Encyclopedia of Philosophy (1998) has no entry for
“Jesus” or “Christ,” but includes one on “Buddha.”
So what is the essential condition
for being a philosopher? I take it to be a strong and lived-out inclination to
pursue truth about philosophical matters through the rigorous use of human
reasoning. By “philosophical matters” I mean the enduring questions of life’s
meaning, purpose, and value as they relate to all the major divisions of
philosophy (primarily epistemology, metaphysics, and ethics).
Of course, one may speak to life’s
meaning, purpose, and value in a nonphilosophical manner—by merely issuing
assertions or simply declaring divine judgments with no further discussion.
(Some wrongly think this was Jesus’ only mode of teaching.) A philosophical
approach to these matters, however, explores the logic or rationale of various
claims about reality; it sniffs out intellectual presuppositions and implications;
it ponders possibilities and weighs their rational credibility. The work of a
philosopher need not include philosophical system-building (a la Aristotle or
Aquinas), nor need it exclude religious authority or even divine inspiration so
long as this perspective does not preclude rational argumentation. Being a
philosopher requires a certain orientation to knowledge, a willingness to argue
and debate logically, and to do so with some proficiency. On this account, was
Jesus a philosopher?
Philosopher Dallas Willard, who
makes much of Jesus’ brilliance, argues that a philosophical mind requires not
only certain intellectual skills but also certain character commitments
regarding the importance of logic and the value of truth in one’s life. A thoughtful
person must choose to esteem logic and argument through focused concentration,
reasoned dialogue, and a willingness to follow the truth wherever it may lead.
This cognitive orientation places demands on the moral life—demands that Jesus
accepted wholeheartedly. Willard deems Jesus a philosopher by these standards.
John Stott observes that Jesus was
a “controversialist” in that he was not “broad-minded.” Jesus did not
countenance any and every view on important subjects, but instead engaged in
extensive disputes, some quite heated, mostly with the Jewish intellectual
leaders of his day. He was not afraid to cut against the grain of popular
opinion if he deemed it to be wrong. He spoke often and passionately about the
value of truth and the dangers of error, and he gave logical arguments to
support truth and oppose error. This all sounds rather philosophical.
Why, then (as responses to Mr.
Bush’s comment revealed), do people find it odd to think of Jesus as a
philosopher? In The Case Against
Christianity, philosopher Michael Martin alleges that the Jesus of the
Gospel accounts “does not exemplify important intellectual virtues. Both his
words and his actions seem to indicate that he does not value reason and
learning.” Jesus based “his entire ministry on faith.” Martin interprets Jesus’
statement about the need to become like children to enter the kingdom of heaven
(Matthew 18:3) as praising uncritical belief.
These are damning charges against
the claim that Jesus was a philosopher. But Martin misinterprets Jesus’
statements uncharitably. If the rest of the Gospel material consistently showed
Jesus avoiding or condemning any rational assessment of his teachings or
claims, Martin’s contention would be vindicated. But Jesus repeatedly engaged
in a variety of bona fide arguments over theology, ethics, and his personal
identity. He employed argument forms such as reductio ad absurdum (Matthew 22:41-46) and a fortiori (John 7:21-24), and appealed to evidence to ground his
claims (Matthew 11:1-6). Jesus also deftly escaped from between the horns of
logical dilemmas by constructing ingenious tertium
quids, as when he avoided both statism and anarchy by saying that one must
render to Caesar what is Caesar’s and to God what is God’s (Matthew 22:15-22).
The
same Jesus who valued children also said, “Love the Lord your God with all your
heart and with all your soul and with all your mind” (Matthew 22:37).
Consider the passage to which
Martin refers. Jesus is asked by his disciples, “Who is the greatest in the
kingdom of heaven?” After calling a child and having him stand among them,
Jesus replies:
I tell you the truth, unless you
change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of
heaven. Therefore, those who humble themselves like this child are the greatest
in the kingdom of heaven. And whoever welcomes a little child like this in my
name welcomes me (Matthew 18:3-5).
The meaning of “become like little
children” is not “become uncritical and unthinking” (as Martin would have it),
but “become humble.” Jesus spoke much of humility, and never associated
humility with stupidity, ignorance, or gullibility. Jesus praised children for
the same reasons that people have always praised them. Children are never
viewed as models because they are irrational or immature, but because they are
innocent and wholehearted in their love, devotion, and enthusiasm for life.
They are esteemed because they can be disarmingly humble, having not learned
the pretensions and posturings of the adult world. Jesus did thank God for
revealing the Gospel to the humble and not to the supposedly wise and
understanding (Matthew 11:25-26). This, however, does not imply that
intelligence is a detriment to believing Jesus’ message, but that some of the
intellectual/religious leaders of the day could not grasp it, largely because
of its humbling consequence.
Unless humility is incompatible
with intelligence and rational investigation, there is no reason to believe
that Jesus prizes gullibility or credulity. Most of us have met a few valued
women and men who have been both tough-minded and softhearted. A good part of
their intellectual virtue consists precisely in their humility, their
willingness to let truth makes its demands on them. They pursue truth
reasonably, but not arrogantly or pridefully. Moreover, children often ask
searching and difficult questions—even of a philosophical nature.
Martin further charges that when
Jesus did give any reason to accept his teaching, it was never a “rational
justification,” but was merely pragmatic. On these grounds, Martin objects to
Jesus’ exhortation that his listeners believe his words because the kingdom has
come.
This charge rings hollow. When
Jesus referred the kingdom of God as a justification for his teaching and
preaching, he was admonishing people to reorient their lives spiritually and
morally because God was breaking into history in an unparalleled and dramatic
fashion. This is not necessarily an irrational or unfounded claim if (1) God
was acting in this manner in Jesus’ day and (2) one can find evidence for the
emergence of the kingdom, chiefly through the actions of Jesus himself. The
Gospels present the kingdom as uniquely present in the teaching and actions of
Jesus. So it was that Jesus claimed, “If I drive out demons by the Spirit of
God, then the kingdom of God has come upon you” (Matthew 12:28). Since his
audience took him to be driving out demons with singular authority, Jesus was
giving a modus ponens argument. If P,
then Q; P, therefore Q. Jesus’ argument
for the kingdom of God served as a logical support for his teaching and
purpose. He was not merely making assertions or ungrounded threats, and
expecting a childish or cowardly compliance.
For these reasons (and many more),
I believe George W. Bush’s show-stopping assertion was correct. Jesus was a
philosopher and a great one. If so, Christians should investigate the Gospels
afresh to discover Jesus, the philosopher, as well as Jesus, God Incarnate.
Moreover, his followers might find some inspiration to imitate their master intellectually
and to enter the great philosophical debates of the age in the Spirit of the
One in whom are hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge (Colossians 2:3)
Douglas Groothuis, Ph.D., is Professor of Philosophy at Denver Seminary and the author of On Jesus (Wadsworth, 2002) and Christian Apologetics (InterVarsity, 2011).
