Randal Rauser's Theology in Search of Foundations is a foray into theological epistemology; that is, it seeks to examine various breeds of epistemology in order to assess which model or models are best suited for the task of doing theology. Rauser, Associate Professor of Historical Theology at Taylor Seminary in Edmonton, Canada, takes the reader on an introductory tour in chapters 1–4 through the history and development of ‘classical foundationalism’, while at the same time defining terms and concepts for those unfamiliar with the field and assessing the arguments for those seasoned veterans of the discussions. In the second section of the book, chapters 5–8, Rauser focuses his attention on specific instances of contemporary theology which depart from the ‘classical foundationalism’ outlined in the first section, which opt rather for a ‘non-foundationalist’ approach to epistemology. Finally, in the closing section of the work, chapters 9–10, the author makes a modest suggestion for a ‘moderate foundationalism’ to serve as the basis for theological constructions and seeks to show how his model can apply to contemporary theology. Rauser's work is particularly useful as an analytic theologian's attempt to bring the best of analytic philosophy to bear on the best of Christian theology. In this, Rauser's work is a great success.
In order to assess and evaluate Rauser's work, it will be helpful quickly to overview each chapter, making relevant comments along the way. To begin, Chapter 1 tells the story of a fractured seventeenth-century-Europe in which the status of theology was being bolstered by the attempts of Descartes, Locke, and Kant, who unwittingly served instead as the ‘gravediggers’ of theology. Rauser suggests that each of these men sought a new ‘ground of stability’ (24) for theology but actually fostered a ‘general climate of skepticism regarding the pretentions of theology’ (24). Descartes's emphasis on scientia and Locke's scepticism of certainty in the knowing process – which caused him to emphasize belief regulated by reason – pushed theology down a road on which it would experience much epistemological turmoil. Rauser says that the work of each of these men, however, was overshadowed by Kant's assertion that nothing in the world could actually be known, in which ‘the increasingly difficult task of theology was finally rendered impossible’ (24).
Chapter 2 seeks to ‘illustrate that a theology laden down with the epistemological demands of Descartes, Locke, and/or Kant is as apt to take flight as an airline of flammable dirigibles’ (55). To show this, Rauser begins by examining the task of defending theology through the use of rational argumentation, both by way of arguments of natural theology and by discussions of biblical inspiration and inerrancy. Despite the complexity of many arguments for the existence of God found in Anselm, Aquinas, Charnock, and Hodge, their cash-out value is often miniscule. According to Rauser, ‘The problem is not natural theology per se but rather its inability to shoulder fully the demands of modernist evidentialism’ (30). While making natural theology the foundation for Christian dogmatics ultimately fails, so too do approaches that attempt to ground all theological beliefs in either the inerrancy or inspiration of scripture. The reason for this is that ‘an inerrant text does not ensure inerrant interpretation’ (36); moreover, ‘to get an epistemological pay-off, the innerantist’, for Rauser, ‘needs an inerrant text now’ (40), which is an impossible feat since no autographs of scripture are available.
Moving from grounding religious belief in reason, Rauser moves on to attempts to ground belief in religious experience. For Rauser, these ‘experiential-expressivist’ approaches (stemming from Schleiermacher via Lindbeck and illustrated by John Baillie and David Tracy) fail, since they cannot be refuted, nor do they deal primarily with truth. He says, ‘The core weakness of Baillie's argument’, which attempts to root knowledge of God in universal experience, ‘centres on the ad hoc nature of its appeal to experience in order to justify theology’ (49). Similarly, David Tracy ‘hopes to demonstrate the common basis of human religious experience as the means to justify theological discourse’ (50). However, Rauser sees Tracy as guilty of theological revisionism and ‘effectively subordinating Christianity to an alien faith’ (54), namely, that of the secular academy.
The next chapter, perhaps one of the most helpful in the book, is an introduction to current terms and concepts in the field of religious epistemology. Rauser looks at several positions concerning the relationship between faith and reason and outlines several views of what faith is. He also examines the nature of reality and knowledge and the concepts of justification, internalism, externalism, methodism, particularism, foundationalism, infinintism, and coherentism (all in less than thirty pages). The concept of ‘properly basic beliefs’ is discussed, and, according to Rauser, ‘the viability of the foundationalist account depends in large part on the sense we can make of properly basic beliefs’ (82). While such a concise summary could easily be guilty of over-simplification and lack of precision, Rauser's introduction to epistemology is illuminating and would serve as a terrific survey for those wishing to become familiar with the field. In concluding, the author notes that ‘the contentious understanding of justification that has dominated the philosophical gravediggers (Chapter 1) and their theological counterparts (Chapter 2) is in large part internalist, methodist, and foundationalist’ (82).
Chapter 4 attempts to analyse the strengths and weaknesses of philosophical objections against classical foundationalism, specifically, the idea of the incorrigibility of knowledge and the methodist criteria of universality. These objections, for some, suggest that classical foundationalism is not sufficient for an entire noetic structure, while others are less convinced that any belief can be shown to be universally incorrigible. Rauser outlines the loss of the ideas of certainty and universal reason as well as the self-reference problem for classical foundationalism: ‘The core problem is that the classical foundationalist's belief that all properly basis beliefs must be either self-evident or incorrigible is neither self-evident nor incorrigible, and so is not properly basic’ (94).
In Chapter 5, which begins the survey of philosophical and theological non-foundationalism, Rauser surveys various forms of non-foundationalism, ‘focusing specifically on their approaches to knowledge, truth, and metaphysical realism’ (108). Because of the wide-ranging connotations and uses of the term ‘non-foundationalism’, Rauser begins by relating the postmodern turn and its accompanying scepticism to a denial of foundational truth. ‘[T]he non-foundationalist defeats skepticism by redefining knowledge, truth, and reality relative to human concerns and capacities’ (111). Richard Rorty's ‘alethic apathy’ and Hilary Putnam's ‘externalist interpretation of intentionality’ both illustrate non-foundationalist attempts to alleviate scepticism; however, Rauser sees both of these attempts as failing to convince, most importantly because they reject common-sense realism (though Rorty's approach is not overtly anti-realist).
Continuing, the author suggests that many non-foundationalists embrace a non-correspondence theory of truth and instead hold to alethic anti-realism which vies for truth as located in either the epistemic or the pragmatic. Concerning Rorty and Putnam, Rauser writes, ‘Despite their differences, both dispense with an objective noumenon in favour of a world defined in terms of human interests and experience’ (127). In addition, Rauser takes issue with the ‘eschatological realism’ of Stanley Grenz and the ‘pragmatic theological science’ of Nancey Murphy. While their diverse approaches to truth and knowledge exhibit the expanse of non-foundationalism, both rely upon ambiguous (or anti-) metaphysics, which the author rightly believes constitutes a major problematic for the study of theology.
Rauser offers a penetrating critique of non-foundationalism in Chapter 6, specifically the four possible interpretations of alethic anti-realism: Kantian anti-realism, causal anti-realism, trivialism, and constitutive anti-realism. This chapter finishes what was started in Chapter 5 by offering a more evaluative take on the theories described in the previous chapter. Rauser sees three main problems with alethic anti-realism. First, it fails ‘to guarantee a more secure access to truth than realist theories’ (145). Second, it has many significant counter-intuitive results for truth (especially that of relativism). And finally, Rauser suggests that ‘anti-realist conceptions of truth invariably assume realism’, and are in that way self-defeating. Kantian realism fails because it denies any direct access to the noumenon, making the noumenon unsuitable for a referent. Causal anti-realism fails because it ‘appears to entail the astounding conclusion that we create the world through language: it exists because we speak’ (150). Trivialism, a conservative anti-realism, is problematic because it contradicts realism while rendering any conclusion reached to nothing more than a trivial proposition. Finally, constitutive realism is guilty of an infinite regress: ‘If all reality is constituted by our conceptual activity, then the claim that everything is constituted by our conceptual activity is also constituted by our conceptual activity’ (153). In a similar manner, the theological non-foundationalism of Stanley Grenz rejects metaphysical realism while that of Nancey Murphy ends up denying that there are any necessary truths (or at least denies that we can access them): ‘If Grenz is to be believed, then core doctrines are not true now, but will be made true in the future. If Murphy is correct, then doctrines function more as second-order regulative statements than descriptions of objective reality’ (166).
In Chapters 7 and 8, Rauser delves into Bruce Marshall's non-foundationalist Trinitarian epistemology. He notes that Marshall is a unique case who has found a space between the polar extremes of classical foundationalism and anti-realist non-foundationalism. Marshall avoids subordinating doctrine and maintains the primacy of truth, unlike classical foundationalism. And he avoids dismissing alethic and metaphysical realism like non-foundationalism. ‘Marshall has developed an ambitious model of coherence justification and truth that is structured in the dynamic life of God’ (192). However, Rauser thinks that, despite the positive features of Marshall's account, it still is riddled with difficulties. For example, Marshall's theory of deontological justification stands on shaky ground, and his use of the Trinity for epistemology ‘threatens to undermine the nature of theology as free inquiry’ (223).
Chapter 9 consists of Rauser's proposal for a way forward in theological epistemology in which he argues for a ‘moderate epistemological foundationalism’. The supreme example of this methodology comes from the work of philosopher Alvin Plantinga. Rauser suggests that the work of Plantinga is successful because of its incorporation of two doxastic processes into human belief formation: proper basicality and proper function. Unlike Bruce Marshall's Trinitarian epistemology, Plantinga's method does not make use of any particular theological conception which, as Rauser notes, opens him to the risk of subordinating theology to his epistemology. However, this objection is not sustainable, says Rauser, for Plantinga, in line with the Dutch Calvinist tradition following a broadly Augustinian approach, does not see a bifurcation of the disciplines of philosophy and theology. Rather, ‘the real reason that Plantinga does not engage the doctrines of Trinity and incarnation is because he believes that they do not have any specific implications for epistemology’ (249). However, the moderate foundationalism of Plantinga is completely compatible with the major doctrines of the Christian faith. Thus Rauser:
Plantinga's analysis promises that Christian faith may indeed fly as it was intended, free of the burdens of inadequate epistemology. And he does so in a most surprising way, be elevating the knowledge of faith possessed by the simplest sincere believer to being no less epistemically substantial than that of the great theologian. (254)
In the final chapter in which he provides his concluding constructive proposal for doing theology out of a moderate Plantingian foundationalism, Rauser picks theologian Kevin Vanhoozer as his chopping block. Worried that Vanhoozer's ‘canonical-linguistic’ approach to theology outlined in his The Drama of Doctrine is insufficient, Rauser opts for an alternative ‘cognitive-propositionalist theory of doctrine according to which doctrine aspires to true description’ (256). Careful readers of Vanhoozer will find Rauser's critique somewhat quick and misguided, insofar as Vanhoozer aims ‘to rehabilitate the cognitive-propositional approach to theology by expanding what we mean by “cognitive” and by dramatizing what we mean by “proposition”’ (The Drama of Doctrine, 88). Rauser suggests ‘that the canonical-linguistic theory is critically flawed because it collapses into pragmatism and insularity, and thus is best rejected in favour of a cognitive-propositional account of doctrine’ (257).
Rauser begins by attacking Vanhoozer's formulation of concepts. Rauser says, ‘Apparently the point is that concepts do not represent objective constituents in the world but rather are abilities that enable us to navigate the world, in this case by grouping a set of social practices and cultural artefacts … into a functional group’ (258). This presents a problem for Christian doctrine, says Rauser, for ‘Instead of affirming that these concepts grasp objective properties, Vanhoozer only allows that “Christian doctrine encourages certain mental habits rather than others when thinking about God”’ (258–259). However, this is simply not the case for Vanhoozer, for he contends that concepts do indeed allow for objective properties: ‘If concepts are the atoms of communication, then propositions are the molecules’ (The Drama of Doctrine, 90). Take, for example, Vanhoozer's concept ‘dog’. He says, ‘a dog … associates some or all of the following: animal, four-footed, pet, can be trained, of many breeds’ (The Drama of Doctrine, 377). These ‘atoms of communication’ are clearly objective properties described by propositions corresponding to reality, contrary to what Rauser suggests. Vanhoozer goes on: ‘Other habitual associations – clever, stupid – depends on one's personal experiences’ (The Drama of Doctrine, 377). This means that, for Vanhoozer, concepts are more than mere propositions but certainly not less. He avoids reductionism by allowing one's ‘situatedness’ to have a place in the process of knowing without falling prey to the Lindbeck's cultural-linguistic methodology. Indeed, this is the attraction of Vanhoozer's epistemology: it allows communication to be taken as more than mere propositions but certainly not less than them.
Rauser's dismissal of speech-act theory is perhaps a bit rapid, and this could indicate another weakness of the book. While the author is concise and to the point, in some instances he could be accused of moving too quickly through complex material. Finally, Rauser could be accused by the theologian of not adequately showing how his epistemology would be worked out in various systematic constructions of Christian doctrine (i.e. the Trinity, Incarnation, and Atonement). He has certainly established a rough framework, but his argument would have been more convincing to those sceptical of any type of foundationalism if it had illustrated the outworking of the model.
All in all, Rauser's work is a welcome addition to the contemporary field of analytic theology. Indeed, much of the criticism towards this ever-growing field is directed not so much at the individual theological proposals of the respective authors but rather at the methodology and its apparent lack of definition. Rauser's work, along with Oliver Crisp and Michael Rea's recent volume, Analytic Theology (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009), has assisted the field by offering a step toward prolegomenal definition. That is not to say that all proponents of ‘analytic theology’ must appropriate Rauser's specific brand of moderate (externalist) foundationalism; the work, however, does provide a concrete example to which critics can direct their grievances, as opposed to the amorphous mass of generality and confusion that has previously existed. In this way, Randal Rauser's Theology in Search of Foundations will serve as an important work of analytic theology.