We in the modern West have a tendency to divide phenomena into "natural" and "supernatural" categories, and to treat the two classes of phenomena quite differently. The study of history, for example, is often assumed to be the study of "natural" phenomena only, and to have nothing to say about "supernatural" ones.
The problem with such an approach is that the distinction between "natural" and "supernatural" is a socially-constructed rather than a self-evident one. The roots of the distinction lay in the matter-spirit dualism that was so popular among Protestant theologians and philosophers after the Middle Ages. Under this framework, all "material" phenomena could be classed as "natural", whereas all "spiritual" phenomena could be considered "supernatural". This distinction was somewhat complicated even in Protestant theology by the fact that natural and supernatural sometimes overlapped. For example, God was believed to be providentially, supernaturally guiding the course of history. But for most Protestant intellectuals, the distinction seemed obvious and ontologically real.
But not everyone-- not even every Protestant-- believes in matter-spirit dualism. For example, magicians and alchemists throughout history have often viewed magic as a "natural" phenomenon, and the study of magic as a natural "science". And even in religious worldviews that do accept a dualism of matter and spirit, the two realms are often thought to be deeply interactive and interwoven. Some religions believe, for example, that there are spirits within every rock and tree, or deities within statues of rock and wood. Others believe that spiritual power can literally be transferred from person to person by the laying on of hands, or through the consumption of bread and wine. Many Christians feel that demons can become affixed to physical locations, or that miraculous healings and angelic interventions occur on a regular basis. In these traditions, seemingly "supernatural" events are thought take place observably in the "natural" world. What's more, they occur in the ordinary course of events; they follow regular patterns and may not even be considered unusual.
This is part of the reason that I have argued elsewhere against a historical approach that suspends or brackets all "supernatural" claims. The very classification of a phenomenon as "supernatural" implies a prejudgment by the historian, and an imposition of his Western-Enlightenment categories onto the subjects of his study. There is a kind of inherent arrogance in this approach, as if the phenomena that are most important to religious believers are not worthy of serious study by historians.
One way to get around this problem is to do what Robert Orsi has done, with his "abundant history" approach. Orsi calls for historians to "think with the assumption of the realness of [our subjects' spirits and deities], as real entities in history and experience not simply or sufficiently identifiable with social structures, origins, or functions, and certainly not as 'symbols,' but as having a presence that becomes autonomous within particular life-worlds." In other words, Orsi basically calls for historians to suspend their disbelief and write from a position of functional acceptance of their subjects' religious claims.
Another way around the problem is to evaluate "supernatural" phenomena as one would any other historical phenomena or events. For example, a purported "divine healing" event could be examined and evaluated to determine, insofar as the evidence allows, whether it actually occurred and what possible causes (divine or otherwise) might explain it. The danger of this approach is that a negative conclusion runs the risk of offending or alienating religious readers. The upside is that there is rarely enough evidence to come to a definite negative conclusion, and in treating the healing as even potentially historical we are regarding our subjects with a seriousness that secular academics often do not accord them.
Perhaps these two approaches can even be held in tension. We could do both: try to get inside our subjects' skin to see and experience phenomena as they saw and experienced them, while also offering commentary on the nature and historicity of the phenomena insofar as the evidence allows. This is what Richard Bushman did in his biography of Joseph Smith: balancing sensitivity with critical sensibility. I hope to make his approach a model for future work of my own.
5 comments:
"The problem with such an approach is that the distinction between "natural" and "supernatural" is a socially-constructed rather than a self-evident one."
This is actually a *really* good observation. I think this point is all too often lost when one is making their point. And furthermore, if you use Bushman as a model of your work I think you will be a fantastic historian.
Thanks, Joseph. I hope you're right! :)
Awesome post Chris! I agree whole-heartedly with your assessment. I don't like the presupposition either.
But I think the problem is more complex than you're allowing for.
Take the resurrection for example. What are historians to make of this alleged event? If one takes a purely scientific approach one has to admit that this is not possible. Even if one takes a probabilistic approach, one has to admit that the odds are very stacked!
Are historians telling us a story? Or are the uncovering truth? If the probability of Jesus resurrection is infinitesimal, then perhaps a search is warranted for another explanation. OTOH, if they're relaying to us the nature of the alleged events, then they ought to accept them as is.
Perhaps then, rather trying to define historiography in this way, perhaps we should think of there being multiple different types of historians. Perhaps some are uncovering truth, and others telling a narrative backed by evidence.
In any case, I do like Bushman as a historian quite a bit, though at times I can't shake my put-off feeling by some of the apologetic statements he makes (though I admit these usually come in the form of testimony rather than history). I am quite partial to Jan Shipps (and I hope you'll be in the same vein) as one being "in the club" so to speak, but still view things from the outside!
BTW, Joseph, the sentence you quoted is exactly the point I was trying to make the other day on your post (which came across as an attack on you and your childhood, which I did not intend).
You make a good point. But I think you could say that the resurrection seems extremely unlikely from a probabilistic point of view without being too offensive. What you'd need to do is to also include some strongly sympathetic material about why people believe in it, and the role it plays in people's faith and lives. For example, if you could find people who have a testimony of it, or have received revelation about it, or claim to have seen Jesus in the flesh, then reporting those along with your own historical assessment might be a good way to provide balance and perspective.
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