Articles on Freedom, Identity and the Good
The quest for freedom is central to some major expressions of modern self-consciousness. This blog series will explore a fresh paradigm for freedom in late modernity, a re-thinking of the context of the self and the rich contours of the self. Michel Foucault in particular brings the issue of freedom to the centre of the discussion of moral self-constitution. Now it is time to draw the discussion into some overall conclusions, with a hopeful trajectory of the future. It will include some reflection on a way forward for the moral self, following from the three-way engagement between Foucault, Taylor and three theologians. Three propositions will try to capture the new insights garnered, and offer projections towards future directions, under the overall theme of a quest for redeemed freedom. They cannot be fully defended here, but it is very useful for final reflection and future thought, exploration and debate within this particular moral discourse of the constitution of the moral self. C. Schwöbel (1995) articulates the trajectory of this conclusion.
The redemption of freedom is liberation from freedom for freedom, from the destructive consequences of absolute self-constituted freedom and for the exercise of redeemed and created human freedom which is called to find fulfilment in communion with God … Redeemed freedom is … essentially finite, relative freedom, freedom which is dependent on finding its orientation in the disclosure of the truth of the gospel … freedom as created, as the freedom of creatures whose freedom is not constituted by them but for them. (p. 78)
Redeemed freedom is defined by this writer as a recovery of the language and horizon of the moral good, the social horizon of the neighbour, and the theological horizon of trinitarian goodness-freedom. It requires that the self turn from flight to courageously face the moral good, the Other and God, in order to rescue freedom from some of its most negative possibilities. Here are the three important propositions.
Proposition One: Redeemed freedom means that one refuses freedom as an ontological ground of ethics, and embraces a new definition of freedom within an ontology of the moral good. Taylor’s horizon of the good, seen in previous posts, is offered as an alternative to Foucault’s horizon of aesthetic-freedom.
Proposition Two: Redeemed freedom by definition takes on a distinctively communal character; it is contextualized within a discussion and relationships between fellow interlocutors, against the backdrop of larger narrative which makes sense of self. Individual freedomt gives up ground to community and makes space for the Other in order to avoid some of the pitfalls of radical autonomy and provide for a richer moral, social and ultimately political experience.
Proposition Three: Redeemed freedom flourishes within a transcendent trinitarian horizon. Trinitarian divine goodness proves to be a fruitful plausibility structure within which to think differently about freedom and the moral self. Trinitarian goodness-freedom answers some of the concerns in the Foucauldian self and reveals new opportunities for identity, discovery, transformation and exploration. It also adds sophistication and meaning to some of Taylor’s categories without offering the final answer on the discussion. It is in the life of Jesus as a member of the Trinity that one can visualize this goodness-freedom dynamic most dramatically.
~Gordon E. Carkner, PhD Philosophical Theology
Proposition One: Redeemed freedom means that one refuses freedom as an ontological ground of ethics, and embraces a new definition of freedom within an ontology of the moral good. Charles Taylor’s moral horizon of the good is offered as a lively and robust alternative to Foucault’s horizon of aesthetic-freedom.
Foucault’s idea of autonomous freedom as self-invention, self-interpretation, self- expression, self-legislation and self-justification is radical indeed. Schwöbel sums it up:
In deciding for policies of action which incorporate choices concerning the interpretation of our possibilities of action, of our goals of action and of the norms of action we attempt to observe, we decide the fundamental orientation of our lives. Such decisions are examples of self-determination. Self- determination is contrasted to determination by external authorities. (Schwöbel, 1995, pp. 62-3)
Aesthetic-freedom certainly has its appeal; it comes with a creative, youthful energy, to launch human subjectivity, overcoming the inertia and restrictions of governmentality and power relations. Foucault does not apologize for its élitist outlook. But this view of freedom has revealed a failure to offer sufficient direction for subjectivity, for the use of the will; it lacks a position of critical appraisal of actions or choices. Thus, it has a major deficit in equipping the self for serious moral reflection and action; it short circuits moral discourse by moving too quickly to praxis or action, without sufficient reflection on reasons for action, or on the virtues, or the goods involved in ethics.
During the conversation with Foucault in previous posts and in my book, The Great Escape from Nihilism, cracks and contradictions in his ideology of the aesthetic have emerged along with its potential dangers of Dionysian proportions. Taylor illuminates the darker side of Foucault’s artful freedom. The absolute sovereignty that Foucault has given to the individual for self-expression raises concerns: it may indeed indulge in a fantasy of the human will as we see in some contemporary politicians. Foucault propounds a very optimistic anthropology of the aesthetic self (artistic work is worthy in and of itself) with great faith in the creativity of the individual, and at the same time, great cynicism about society and its institutions. He understands that domination can occur in corporate regimes of knowledge (making evil visible), but he is less open to acknowledge the potential evil in individual self-shaping and self-expression. This is a major oversight or blind side which is not acceptable for such a reputable scholar.
For the future of the self, according to this proposition, what is needed is a re-orientation of energies, not an elitist ethics of the privileged aristocrat of style (dandy), but one that applies to all selves, one that protects the weak and the most vulnerable, and builds the social fabric towards a just society. Foucault realizes at some level (even as defender of the marginalized), that the elitism of his ethics cannot benefit the minority and the marginalized, or the Greek slave, or women who employ him to deconstruct any male-dominated regime. Redeemed freedom reconfigures Foucault’s moral self, exploring a definition of freedom that is more inclusive of the Other, one that releases the repressed goods for self-empowerment and moral reflection. This entails the beginning of a recovery of the normative and a move away from solipsism and narcissism to which Foucault’s view unfortunately leads the discussion. This is a quest for reconciliation between freedom and the good, a scenario in which freedom no longer dominates ethics; mere freedom is not a proper ontological grounding for ethics.
The relationship between the good and freedom needs more than a reconciliation; freedom needs to be qualified by the good. It is good as a source of energy, and a guide to freedom; it directs action to an appropriate goal, and questions actions that have an inappropriate goal–a low value or ignoble. Redeemed freedom articulates life as a conscious praxial engagement and commitment to the good as Taylor suggests in his ontology of ethics. The good informs the self, roots the self, contextualizes the self, strengthens the agency of the self in a profound way; it adds energizing infrastructure. With ancient historical roots and a deep personal resonance, there is something highly valuable in the conversation of the good as Taylor (1989), Murdoch (1997), David Brooks and others have drawn it into moral philosophical discourse. As a result of this debate, we propose that freedom must be harnessed by, or integrated with the good, as a basic orientation for the self’s being in the world and for its development.
The good thereby replaces freedom as the prime moral category. All societies require a balance between what is to be encouraged in self-expression and what is to be repressed as unhealthy for the individual or the community (child pornography or underage prostitution for example). Hierarchy of the goods is not always popular in moral philosophy circles, and many do not grasp the powerful nature of Taylor’s qualitative discriminations and hypergoods. We, however, are convinced that, even with its limitations, Taylor is headed in the right direction on this point, convinced that this bodes well, and holds great promise for the future of our current fragmented and weakened, relativistic moral philosophy, the crisis of the self, and the lively moral debates in the West. It also bodes well for the mentoring of new leadership, and begins to answer the crisis of morality in late modernity. There is much to offer to fruitful dialogue and critique among divergent views of ethics. In terms of the future direction of the self, there is a key opportunity to champion the good, to mature in one’s awareness and the benefits of the language of the good as a goal of culture and individual calling. It is possible to become an entrepreneur of the good, a self with depth of meaning, rather than an entrepreneur of one’s own “enlightened self-interest”.
With a positive relationship to the good, the self is both empowered and called to account at the same time. Thereby, this kind of self will have the courage to face itself and its darker motives, the courage and the equipping to self-discern. But it is also to be expected that Foucault’s position of radical autonomy, a far more fragile positioning of the moral self, will continue to be defended by several Westerners. The danger is that it will lead us back into nihilism from which it has emerged.
~Dr. Gordon E. Carkner
Schwöbel, C. (1995). Imago Libertatis: Human and Divine Freedom. In C. Gunton (Ed.) God & Freedom: Essays in historical and systematic theology (pp. 57-81). Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark.
Murdoch, I. (1997). On ‘God’ and the ‘Good’. In P. Conradi (Ed.) Iris Murdoch on Existentialists and Mystics: Writings on philosophy and literature. London: Chatto & Windus.
Taylor, C. (1989). Sources of the Self: The making of the modern identity. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Proposition Two: Redeemed freedom by definition takes on a distinctively communal character; it is contextualized within a discussion and relationships between fellow interlocutors, against the backdrop of larger narrative which makes sense of self. Individual freedom gives up ground to community and makes space for the Other, in order to avoid some of the pitfalls of radical autonomy and provide for a richer moral experience.
This transformation of the Foucauldian thin aesthetic self is desirable under this proposal; the move is towards a deeper, more complex communal character of self, a thick self. Foucault articulates freedom as flight from one’s neighbour; the aesthetic self is part fugitive, part manipulator; its context is reduced to a life of contest with the Other, within power relations and truth games. There is a certain validity to these concerns, but from the perspective of Taylor’s comments and those on trinitarian goodness, they lack vision for relationships that are other than manipulative, that is, those informed by love, compassion and cooperation. In the light of this investigation, it is suggested that there is a need to rethink Foucauldian freedom in terms of a reconciliation between self and the Other, self and society, to put it metaphorically, in terms of self and one’s neighbour. The direction of reformulation is the recovery of a social horizon, including a stronger concept of the social body, and the common good—the courage to face the neighbour as a good.
A radical pursuit of private self-interest, to the exclusion of the presence and the needs of the Other, is a far less tenable option after this critical dialogue. Foucault holds to a faulty assumption of chronic distrust, that is, that the Other will always try to control and manipulate my behaviour for its own purposes, or try to impose its agenda on me. Although such manipulation exists, this is a jaded and cynical perspective on human society, and the potential of human relationships. The autonomy that modernity cannot do without, needs a dialectical relationship with community as a balance to one’s self-reflexive relationship to oneself. The nature of autonomy cannot be confined to a radical self-determination but must involve the possibility of recognition by and dependence upon other people within a larger horizon of significance. Flight is the easier and least complex default option; it is more challenging to take other selves seriously in terms of the good that they are, and the good that they can offer. We suggest that trust building is a tentative but necessary exercise for the moral health of the self. Redeemed freedom can emerge through a wiser discernment and exploration of the communal dimensions of subjectivity, as freedom to cooperate with, and freedom to serve the Other.
This newly discovered type of freedom is destined to find its fulfilment, not in a self- justifying control, alone in self-sufficiency, but in seeking out a communion of love, a healthy vulnerability, interdependency and mutuality, with an ear to the voice of the Other. It promotes the relocation of the dislocated self into a new narrative, a new drama which involves us, within the relational order of creation. Human experience is intensely relational; one weakness in Foucault is that, by contrast, he assumes a denial of the social body when it comes to ethics. This conclusion suggests the positive outlook for the future of the self will involve a communal experiment. The word discernment above speaks of exploring the potential of these relationships as they relate to a communal horizon of the good, the good that can be carried in the community and its narrative as Taylor articulates in his ethics of the good. Others can help discern the self, in order for it to find its own space for freedom and calling with responsibility.
Foucault highly values individual creativity, but he lacks appreciation for how this relates to communal creativity of interdependencies and complementarity. Fulfilment in community prevents the self from extreme forms of self-interest, narcissism and solipsism (R. Wolin, 1986). McFadyen (1995) offers a helpful reflection on this point concerning the deceptions and distortions of radical freedom.
The free pursuit of private self-interest has a naturally conflicting form, since the otherness of the individual means their interests must be opposed. One needs freedom from what is other in order to be oneself. Personal centeredness is essential, for autonomy is a private place that has to be protected by fencing it off from the sphere of relation and therefore from the otherness of God and one’s neighbours … Autonomy is something one has in self-possession, apart from relation to God and others in an exclusive and private orientation on an asocial personal centre …. Freedom and autonomy are had apart from relationship: they inhere within oneself. (p. 35)
Foucault’s language of freedom has a mythological flavour that offers a mask for a disguised self-interest, the freedom to be and do whatever I want. Redeemed freedom reveals this outlook as a distorted reality-construction. M. Volf in Exclusion and Embrace (1996) shows how this reconciliation or redemption of sociality can occur even amidst the most abusive and oppressive of situations. The lack of communal discernment is one of Foucault’s significant limitations.
In this anatomy of community, the good can be mediated and carried more fruitfully and robustly. One’s individual relationship to the good can be strongly enhanced by involvement with a group that allows the good to shape its identity; not just any, but the right community environment can provide a positive school of the good. Mirrored through others, the good can offer both accountability and empowerment to the self. Group covenant and commitment to one another sustains the self in its agency; the younger self especially is released from the burden to invent its whole moral universe. Moreover, communal discernment supports the weak and challenges the strong with accountability, promoting societal justice. Moral self-constitution of this thicker, weightier, and more complex sort exceeds the capacity of the individual self; it requires a community. J. Habermas in response to Foucault argues that the preoccupation with the autonomy or self-mastery is simply a moment in the process of social interaction, which has been artificially isolated or privileged:
Both cognitive-instrumental mastery of an objective nature (and society) and a narcissistically overinflated autonomy (in the sense of purposively rational self-assertion) are derivative moments that have been rendered independent from the communicative structures of the lifeworld, that is, from the intersubjectivity of relationships of mutual understanding and relationships of reciprocal recognition. (Habermas, 1987, p. 315)
~Dr Gordon E. Carkner PhD Philosophical Theology
Habermas, J. (1987). The Philosophical Discourse of Modernity. Cambridge: Polity Press.
McFadyen, A.I. (1995). Sins of Praise: the Assault on God’s Freedom. In C. Gunton (Ed.). God & Freedom: Essays in historical and systematic theology (pp. 36-56). Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark.
Volf, M. (1996). Exclusion and Embrace: A theological exploration of identity, otherness and reconciliation. Nashville: Abingdon Press.
See also posts on Quality of the Will which articulates Charles Taylor’s Ethical Framework.
Proposition Three: Redeemed freedom flourishes within a transcendent trinitarian horizon. Trinitarian divine goodness proves to be a fruitful plausibility structure within which to think differently about freedom and the moral self. Trinitarian goodness-freedom answers some of the concerns in the Foucauldian self and reveals new opportunities for identity, discovery, transformation and exploration. It also adds sophistication and meaning to some of Taylor’s categories without offering the final answer on the discussion. It is in the life of Jesus as a member of the Trinity that one can visualize this goodness-freedom dynamic most dramatically. This holds dramatic implications for moral discourse.
Foucault (1984e, p. 4) claims that, ‘Ethics is the deliberate form assumed by freedom.’ But what kind of form in our freedom will endure and flourish? What is the impact of a transcendent paradigm in this conversation and how does it help to interpret and discern the constitution of the moral self? The language of strong transcendence implies a transcendence which resides outside the economies of human experience, and human culture spheres of science, art, religion and ethics, and yet it plays a key role in the drama of self-constitution. It offers a significant contribution to the validation, affirmation, and recognition of the self from a larger horizon of significance, creating a whole new range of possibilities. It also occasions a standpoint for an evaluation of beliefs and practices, offering a subject position from which to protest the unexamined hegemony of the aesthetic present in Foucault’s hermeneutics of the moral self. This hegemony, along with the hegemony of science, is resisted through an exploration of the horizons of the good, moving the self beyond Foucault’s limitations and beyond the hegemony of scientism. It reaches for something higher and deeper, more meaningful.
The discussion of recovering ethics and freedom of a higher quality as a partnership with trinitarian relationality is highlighted in Jesus. He offers an example of redeemed human freedom, through the cooperation between divine goodness and human freedom, effecting and empowerment of human freedom. In earlier posts, the human good was linked through a transcendent turn to trinitarian goodness. At this juncture, it will be fruitful to explore the marriage of the good (transcendently rooted and qualified) and freedom. Jesus’ life constitutes the reconciliation of, rather than the enmity between, goodness and freedom. Transcendent goodness energizes and impacts his expression of freedom. In the philosophical turn towards transcendent goodness, freedom as an ontology is subverted by the ontology of agape love, or divine trinitarian goodness. Foucault resists this sense of strong transcendence in his ethics of the disenchanted self, and his project risks falling back into nihilism. His ethical thought is focused through the culture sphere of art (in resistance against the preceding cultural hegemonies of science and religion). Aesthetics is given a controlling position over the other culture spheres. It is an arts of rebellion and self-assertiveness.
But does Foucault miss something significant in his analysis of Christian technologies of the self and is it not a bit one-sided? How does Jesus’ life interpret freedom differently in the light of this suggested turn to transcendent goodness? How does it deal with Foucault’s claim to radical autonomy for the self? The interpretation starts as trinitarian theonomous goodness-freedom, a God-related freedom, that is qualified by transcendent divine goodness (D. Stephen Long, The Goodness of God).
It begins with the living God of the Christian story, who is constituted by a form of relation, mutuality and reciprocity in which freedom is given to that which is Other—other Persons in the Trinity and the creational Other, humans. The Christian Trinity is a tri-unity of Persons with a history of self-giving freedom that defines God’s being as agape love, and the moral source and inspiration for human finite goodness. Human goodness participates in, but is not identical with, nor does it reach the quality of divine goodness. Jesus is a form and expression of trinitarian goodness in human society, a robust example of this goodness-freedom. The studied avoidance of Jesus’ exemplum in ethics accorded by Foucault’s critique of Christian moral self-constitution is an unfortunate oversight. It skews the conversation quite inappropriately.
The position articulated here is enhanced through the insight of Leeds University theologian, A. McFadyen, who reflects astutely on the hermeneutic of freedom and self-giving within the Trinity. Human freedom, claims McFadyen (1995), is grounded in and defined by God’s freedom. There is no necessary competition between these two freedoms.
God’s inmost being is constituted by the radical mutuality of the three divine Persons, in which they both give and receive their individuality from one another. In their intersubjectivity, there is the creative intention and recognition of subjectivity, and therefore transcendence in form of the integrity of personal identity, in the giving of space to one another. This giving of space is an interpersonal event, and must not be thought of as analogous to the evacuation of physical space. It is not a form of absence, but a way of being present with others in creative recognition of their autonomy within the relationship. It is a letting-be, rather than a letting-go: a structuring of the relationship so that it includes space and time for personal discreteness and autonomous response. Thus the trinitarian life involves a circulation of the divine potentialities of being through the processes of self-giving, in the unity of which the three Persons receive their distinct personal identities. (A. McFadyen 1995, pp. 46-7)
The identity of trinitarian Persons is strengthened, not weakened or lost, through mutuality. This knowledge stimulates the human imagination of the possibilities for relationships and the dynamics of the moral self. The sheer joy and freedom of this mutuality within the Trinity is not confined. Lively self-giving freedom is revealed as possibility and reality within divine relationships; it involves mutual indwelling of identities, mutual support, a perichoretic freedom. It provides an example of interpersonal relations that do not need to threaten the individual self or its freedom, but which enhance and empower the individual self and give direction to its freedom—towards the Other in communion.
This is the same gift of benevolent divine freedom that is expressed within human creation, particularly through the presence in the world of God the Son and God the Spirit, the second and third Persons of the Trinity. God is a community of Persons in movement towards and present within creation, stimulating and opening up a future of new possibilities for human freedom. Yes God is invested in human freedom. The transcendence of the trinitarian Creator includes free personal presence and free indwelling in history, revealing the potential of a definition of freedom which is rescued from the obsession with radical autonomy. It is the kind of freedom that begins as a mutuality interpreted in trinitarian terms. It then proceeds towards a rethinking, a relocation of the self through a realignment of self with God’s freedom, a new interface of self with the transcendent horizon of goodness-freedom. The new subject position is informed by, bounded by and rooted in, empowered by divine freedom and the relational dimensions of creation, rather than standing over against or aloof from it.
The character of this redeemed freedom is creative and dynamic in terms of human sociality. God and human creation are in dialogue-partnership. Human freedom takes its cue from God, exists within the context of God’s freedom, but can also engage with it. It is a creational relationship, deeply implicated with God and his freedom to create and move towards his creation. In fact, the dependence of human freedom on God secures its integrity, grounds it in a higher reality. God creates the context for freedom, recognizes, affirms and validates human freedom; the self is constituted in its freedom at this level by God. Thus, this relationship between divine and human freedom should not be seen as a handicap to personal freedom, but a robust source of actualization of freedom, as a profound divine gift.
Knowledge of this goodness-freedom is offered through relationship with God as Trinity; it is not invented. God’s creation offers the latitude that affords space for human response in a non-coercive environment. It even includes the possibilities of human misunderstanding, rejection, disobedience towards and even disbelief in God. That is quite amazing. God’s gift of freedom entails God’s willingness to take the consequences of human freedom and even human radical assertions of autonomy.
Again McFadyen, (1995, p. 44) writes: “We find God subjecting Godself, first of all to the limitation of the incarnation in a human person; secondly, allowing Godself to be subject to human freedom—even to the extent of death—to bear the consequences of the human refusal of freedom on Godself.” According to his emphasis, human freedom is enhanced when there is a grateful response to the God who built into creation the very possibility and parameters of human freedom, when human freedom is discerned within the larger context of God’s freedom. The created, ordered ecology of relations is respectful of both divine sovereignty and a large degree of finite human choice and autonomy.
Space is given for growth in individual integrity, uniqueness and particularity; this meets some of Foucault’s strong desire for creativity in the self, without sacrificing many other positive dimensions of the moral self. At the end of the discussion, Foucault resists this limited definition of freedom as a gift from God; he wants unlimited, absolute freedom for the self. But it is something of a wishful thinking without hope of achievement.
Andrei Rublev’s Trinity, representing the Father, Son and Holy Spirit in a similar manner. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Furthermore, Jesus is the free and loyal Son of the Father, exemplifying the positive marriage between goodness and freedom, showing that it is possible and viable in this life. Whereas definitions of freedom as autonomy lead to loss of self and alienation towards the Other (Taylor’s argument elsewhere), a trinitarian definition leads to the fresh discovery of self and the re-appearance and appreciation of the Other in a communion of love. In order to explore the trinitarian concept of goodness-freedom, it is instructive to look to the God-man, Jesus of Nazareth, to inquire what human freedom can become when it engages with the transcendent goodness of God the Trinity.
In the practice of redeemed freedom, the human freedom of Christ can vividly disclose God’s creative freedom to human observers. Schwöbel (1995) captures this well.
[It is in the] Image of Christ, where freedom is exercised as rooted in the will of the Father and mediated in the power of the Spirit that the true character of the image of God is disclosed to us, both as the divine freedom for grace and as the human freedom of obedience …. Christ is both the revelation of the divine freedom of grace and the disclosure of the human freedom of obedience, where obedience to the will of God the father is not the abrogation of human freedom but the form of its exercise. (p. 80)
For Foucault, obedience to a religion is negative and repressive, destroying freedom. But in Jesus, it is never a contest between God the Father’s freedom and Jesus’ own. It entails an intimate co-operation rooted in loving communion. Jesus reveals that freedom can be liberated from the weighty obligation to live self-reflexively out of one’s own power and resources, and also reveals a creative divine-human relationship filled with freedom and grace. This is carried on even in the midst of many attempts of others to oppress Jesus and repress his voice. In his life, he has fathomed a very deep level of freedom.
McFadyen (1995) illuminates some nuances of the divine-human interface of freedom, revealed through the incarnation.
[By] incarnation in the body of the crucified one implies that God’s freedom does not, after all, entail a transcendent aloofness from the world, but a form of involvement with it in which the divine being and freedom are staked. God subjects Godself to the risks, vulnerabilities and ambiguities of historical existence, including the risk of rejection, suffering and death, as well as of misinterpretation. God’s freedom and sovereignty must be of a radical kind: the freedom to give oneself in relation; to be with and in creation in ways that are costly to God, but which do not abrogate God’s sovereignty, freedom and transcendence. (p. 42)
In the incarnation, one sees God communicating and relating, not as a tyrannical, coercive, absolute sovereign, but vulnerably in and through the form of human individual, by uniting the divine freedom of self-giving agape love with that of a human being. In the Christ event, one is confronted with a divine power that is highly personal, and which consequently has impact through forms of interpersonal communication and personal presence. This God posture makes creative appeal to human freedom; divine freedom is the lareger context or horizon of human freedom. It is not a divine monologue of commands, but a dialogue in which humans are intended and respected as subjects with choice. Jesus is in constant dialogue with the Father. Redeemed freedom articulates human freedom against the backdrop and within the horizon of God’s freedom.
Freedom, its content and definition, has been a central concern in this series on identity, freedom and the good. As a result of this dialogue/debate between Michel Foucault and Charles Taylor, not all definitions of freedom are deemed equal or valid. When freedom embraces goodness, it transforms freedom from an end in itself, to freedom as a benevolence or agape love. Within the plausibility structure of trinitarian transcendent goodness, love becomes the content of freedom as well as freedom’s trajectory. The exercise of redeemed freedom takes seriously the human and divine Other, especially the weaker, more vulnerable human Other. This redirected freedom is a consequence of the interface between human and divine goodness. Schwöbel capture it succinctly.
The true measure of freedom is love as the relationship which makes the flourishing of the other the condition of self-fulfilment. Human freedom becomes the icon of divine freedom where the freedom of divine grace constitutes the grace of human freedom …. That most poignant image of hope, the Kingdom of God, expresses the relation of free divine love and loving human freedom together in depicting the ultimate purpose of God’s action as the perfected community of love with his creation. The fulfilment of God’s reign and the salvation of creation are actualized together in the community of the love of God. (Schwöbel, 1995, pp. 80-81)
Foucault’s provocative aesthetic-freedom has raised many questions and stimulated deep reflection on the nature and constitution of the moral self. It has asked us to be more circumspect about self-construction. Taylor has pressed in on us and convinced us of the importance of the good in ethics. Transcendent trinitarian goodness has contributed further insight into that concept in healthy ways.
Three theologians (Long, McFadyen and Schwobel) have shared a map of God as Trinity, who is present to humans, taking them seriously in their integrity and freedom, and inviting them to participate as living expressions of divine agape. The life committeed to this goodness-freedom can constitute a great, and yet accessible, work of art, a beautiful and free life. This is the beginning of an ongoing debate and fruitful discussion that has many implications for Westerners as they engage in late modern culture, and struggle to find answers and hope amidst its moral crisis.
~Gordon E. Carkner, PhD Philosophical Theology
See also the blog posts on Critique of the Aesthetic; and Quality of the Will.
See also Loyola Philosopher Paul K. Moser’s reflections on love in his essay “Evidence of a Morally Perfect God” in Craig & Meister (eds.) God is Great; God is Good. (IVP 2009)
Foucault, M. (1984e). The Ethic of Care for the Self as a Practice of Freedom. (trans. by J.D. Gauthier, S.J.) In J. Bernauer & D. Rasmussen (Eds.) The Final Foucault, (pp. 1-20) Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 1987.
Long, D.S. (2001). The Goodness of God. Grand Rapids: Brazos Press.
Schwöbel, C. (1995). Imago Libertatis: Human and Divine Freedom. In C. Gunton (Ed.) God & Freedom: Essays in historical and systematic theology (pp. 57-81). Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark.
McFadyen, A.I. (1995). Sins of Praise: the Assault on God’s Freedom. In C. Gunton (Ed.). God & Freedom: Essays in historical and systematic theology (pp. 36-56). Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark.
Will Christianity Ruin my Personal Freedom?
Christians are sometimes tagged as holding a negative, uptight religion within a trajectory that keeps an interesting and fun life out of reach. As the stereotype goes, faith places them in a lifestyle box, with a lid. Nietzsche called it the iron cage or a morality that stifles creativity. There is that long list of prohibitions we hear about. How attractive is that?
Ouch! Unfortunately, this kind of judgemental legalism (even pharisaic self-righteousness) is often too true of some Christians. But this outlook is a long distance from the biblical perspective on Christian life and values, and simply does not represent the majority of believers today, people who explore life’s adventure to the full, who long for a robust life. It also misses the main point of its founder and exemplar Jesus of Nazareth–who is a symbol of grace, forgiveness, inclusion and embrace of life (Philip Yancey, What’s so Amazing about Grace?). Faith is mostly about what one affirms, rather than what one resists.
Many young believers, upon entering university, have felt pressured to throw out Christian values and norms, to go with the peer group, or the extreme party scene. They suddenly vote for the permissive life. The total rejection of traditional Christian values, however, is often based on a tragic misunderstanding of genuine faith commitments. The Christian ethic is deep and constructive, distinctive on both personal and social levels. It is a positive alternative to both uptight legalism and lax permissiveness. Rather, it is rooted in a life-giving love, joy and meaning, rather than dour isolationism full of restrictions and rules.
The basic Christian conviction here has a trajectory of deep freedom, a freedom that is interwoven with the good (David Gill, Becoming Good). This was a key discovery in my PhD dissertation on the crisis of late modern self, one that is heavily oriented to a radical reinvention. Philosopher Charles Taylor has done a major critique of today’s common concept of freedom: i.e. one that is ideological, contentless and unstructured (Hegel and Modern Society). Historically, it has often been very destructive, even with the highest ideals of a new man and new society. Christian faith does not buy in to such definitions of freedom. Jesus said, “If you hold to my teaching, you are really my disciples. Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free” (John 8:31, 32). This captures metaphorically the quest for deep freedom, a refusal of overly subjectivistic (solipsistic) ethics which can be arbitrary, chaotic, self-indulgent, even irresponsible.
The Christian journey follows a trajectory that develops one’s identity as a thick self. Christians neither live superficially, nor do they fit a narrow template of bland uniformity. They are motivated by an inner content and security to express themselves in fresh ways, thereby bringing life and vitality to others. They are free to take responsibility for the Other, and make a contribution to the world. At their best, they move into a positive, constructive, and caring lifestyle. At the same time, they do walk away from a selfish, bigoted, and destructive one. Priorities such as social justice, the poor, the environment, the virtuous life and the sanctity of life are on their radar.
It is a deeply personal ethics of love and respect (I John 4). This is necessary for all relationships, finding its source in the very character of an infinitely good and loving God (D. Stephen Long, The Goodness of God). It offers a solid foundation upon which one can build a life and discern right from wrong, the higher moral ground from the lower (e.g. benevolence vs. selfishness). Part of its creativity is the gift and calling to mediate this goodness to society. To balance our discussion, we should also ask the tough question: “Will naturalistic materialism destroy my personal freedom?” Christian ethics, at the end of the day, also provides an objective reference point to resolve relational conflicts and promote fairness, basic rights and justice. Thus we have at hand form and freedom, a deep character freedom with structure, driven by compassion like the beautiful waterfall below. The extremes of both irresponsibility and legalism are not on offer in this thought experiment; it entails a very strong affirmation of life (Romans 8) and a rich or thick definition of freedom.
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