By adapting his message to the understanding of his audience, Spinoza sought to obtain a more favorable hearing for a truth.
SPINOZA AS A PROPHET OF REASON
The Practical Considerations Underlying His
Tractatus Theologico-Politicus
[DISCLAIMER]
Wayne Ferguson
Phil. 227, Dr. Rice
Marquette University
November 2, 1992
Minor Revisions Jan. 2005
INTRODUCTION: Spinoza as a Prophet of Reason
According to Spinoza, a prophet is one who is endowed by God
with a more vivid imagination and a more resolute devotion to that
which is good (TTP 65, 70, 71). The certainty of the prophets, we are
told, was based on three considerations:
1. That the things revealed were most vividly imagined,
just as we are wont to be affected by objects in our
waking hours.
2. The occurrence of a sign.
3. Lastly, and most important, that the minds of the prophets
were directed exclusively towards what was right and good
(75).
Furthermore, we are told that the form in which the messages of the
prophets were cast varied according to the imagination and
temperament of each and according to the beliefs in which they had
been brought up. These messages were adapted, as well (whether
intentionally or not), to the particular audience of each, with the
ultimate intention of the prophet being to inspire the people to
obedience--to inspire them to "the true life" (73, 86). As I
considered Spinoza's analysis of these visionaries and their
messages, it began to dawn on me that in writing the Tractatus
Theologico-Politicus (TTP), and, indeed, in his life in
general, Spinoza actually comports himself in a manner that is
somewhat analogous to the very prophets and apostles about whom he
writes. Now certainly, Spinoza cannot be understood as a prophet
in the first sense, insofar as his conclusions are the product of
ratio--not imaginatio. Furthermore, insofar as human beings
understand themselves and God according to the natural light of
reason, there is no room for doubt, rendering any accompanying sign
at best superfluous.1 Nevertheless, Spinoza's mind is, in a manner
of speaking, "directed exclusively toward that which is right and
good," and, in his pursuit of his vision of the good, he does adapt
his message to the imagination and temperament of those to whom it
is directed, i.e. according to the beliefs in which they had been
brought up, with a view to exerting a practical influence on the
course of events in his historical, social context.2
It is the purpose of this paper to elaborate on these two points of
comparison by considering, first, Spinoza's understanding of "the
good," and his devotion to it, and second, by illustrating the way
in which he adapts his message, in TTP, to the understanding of
those to whom it is directed, with a view to persuading them to his
vision of the good.
PART ONE: A Mind Directed Exclusively Towards What is Right and
Good
If there is a single point which Spinoza attempts to drive
home throughout TTP, it is the fact that truth of scripture is its
moral teaching and that the bond that holds it all together is the
fact that its many authors, however they might differ in their
imaginings of God and the proper way to serve him, all sought to
inspire their audience to obedience-- that is (ultimately) to
justice and charity --and were themselves men whose minds were
always directed toward that which was right and good. Spinoza,
likewise, was especially characterized by his virtue and his
constant devotion to the good.
For Spinoza, however, there is no such thing as an external,
objective good in-itself; rather, good and evil are
relative terms. In the Ethics, he writes
By "good" I understand . . . every kind of pleasure and
furthermore whatever is conducive thereto, and especially
whatever satisfies a longing of any sort. By "bad" I
understand every kind of pain, and especially that which
frustrates a longing. For I have demonstrated above [E3,
P9, Schol.] that we do not desire a thing because we
judge it to be good; on the contrary, we call the object
of our desire good, and consequently the object of our
aversion bad . . . Thus every man judges a thing good or
bad, advantageous or disadvantageous, according to his
own emotion (E3, P39, Schol.).
Consistent with his judgement in this regard, Spinoza (following Hobbes)
argues that our right is coextensive with our power, such that we
may rightly pursue anything we please, to the best of our ability,
employing any means within our power.3
This is the case inasmuch
as our power is an expression of the power of god or nature:
Nature's power is the very power of God, who has
sovereign right over all things. But since the universal
power of Nature as a whole is nothing but the power of
all individual things taken together, it follows that
each individual thing has the sovereign right to do all
that it can do; i.e. the right of the individual is co-
extensive with its determinate power (TTP 237).
Furthermore, it makes no difference whether or not individuals
judge correctly as to what turn of events would be good (i.e. would
affect them positively). With respect to men, Spinoza argues, the
wise and the ignorant alike have the same sovereign right to pursue
the good according to their own judgement:
just as the wise man has the sovereign right to do all
that reason dictates, i.e. to live according to the laws
of reason, so, too, a man who is ignorant and weak-willed
has the sovereign right to do all that is urged on him by
appetite, i.e. to live according to the laws of appetite
(TTP 238).
And here, as well, Spinoza reiterates the relative nature of good and evil inasmuch as
that which our reason declares to be evil is not evil in
respect of the order and laws of universal Nature, but
only in respect of the laws of our own nature (239).
And the most basic, universal, law of nature is that one will
always choose the greater good (as perceived) over the lesser:
everyone will choose of two goods that which he judges
the greater, and of two evils that which seems to him the
lesser. I say expressly "that which in his belief is the
greater or lesser;" I do not say that the facts
necessarily correspond with his judgement (239-40).
However, the fact that one can judge correctly or incorrectly
concerning that which is good or evil indicates that despite the fact
that these are relative terms, Spinoza nevertheless conceives of a real, honest to
goodness good, but one that cannot be understood or described apart
from the perspective of the individual (which includes, of course,
the individuals subjective emotional experience). He speaks of his
own pursuit of such a good in his Treatise on the Emendation of the
Intellect (hereafter TEI):
After experience had taught me the hollowness and
futility of everything that is ordinarily encountered in
daily life, and I realized that all the things which were
the source and object of my anxiety held nothing of good
or evil in themselves save in so far as the mind was
influenced by them, I resolved at length to enquire
whether there existed a true good, one which was capable
of communicating itself and could alone affect the mind
to the exclusion of all else, whether, in fact, there was
something whose discovery and acquisition would afford me
a continuous and supreme joy to all eternity (233).
As readers of the Ethics are well aware, this "true" or, more
precisely, "supreme good" comes to light as the intellectual love
of God. Those of us with strong religious instincts must restrain
ourselves at this point, insofar as God and nature are, for
Spinoza, equivalent, and to know and love God is nothing more than
to understand our place in nature, according primary causes, based
on our knowledge of physical and mental laws. And while it is
impossible for us to comprehend nature in its entirety, one gets
the impression that Spinoza does not preclude the possibility of
very rapid and very profound advances in human knowledge that would-- in his lifetime --revolutionize
the understanding of the relationships that obtain between individual human beings and nature as a whole. In
any event, such an understanding would be the highest good, and
anything that contributes towards such an understanding is a true
good. This, I take it, is what he has in mind in TIE when he
writes:
human weakness fails to comprehend [the eternal order and
fixed laws of Nature] in thought, and meanwhile man
conceives a human nature much stronger than his own, and
sees no reason why he cannot acquire such a nature. Thus
he is urged to seek the means that will bring him to such
a perfection, and all that can be the means of his
attaining this objective is called a true good, while the
supreme good is to arrive at the enjoyment of such a
nature, together with other individuals, if possible
. . . namely, the knowledge of the union which the mind
has with the whole of Nature (235).
The view presented in TIE is not a great deal different then
that we find in the Ethics. In Part IV of the Ethics, for example,
Spinoza once again reiterates that "good" and "bad" are
relative terms which he declares are useful, nonetheless, as we attempt to
evaluate those things which help and hinder us in our effort to
attain to "the model of human nature which we set before ourselves"
(E4, pref.). And, just as, in TIE, he characterizes as a
"perfection" the "stronger nature" which we in our weakness
imagine, so in the Ethics, with regard to the "model we set before
ourselves", he says
we shall say that men are more perfect or less perfect in
so far as they are nearer to or further from this model
(E4, Pref.).
He explains what he means by "nearer to or further from"
perfection, as follows:
it is important to note that when I say that somebody
passes from a state of less perfection to a state of
greater perfection, and vice versa, I do not mean that he
changes from one essence or form to another . . . but
that we conceive his power of activity, in so far as this
is understood though his nature, to be increased or
diminished (E4, pref.).
Note that Spinoza, in TIE, seeks "to arrive at the enjoyment
of such a nature, together with other individuals, if possible"
(235, italics mine). This is not merely because he realizes that
the highest good, rather than being an objective good, is a
subjective experience arising out of our knowledge of and love for
our particular relationship to god or nature--a good which is,
therefore, attainable, at least in theory, by all. This is the
case, but there is another reason as well. The following paragraph
in TIE provides a clue:
This, then, is the end for which I strive, to acquire the
nature I have described and to endeavor that many should
acquire it along with me. That is to say, my own
happiness involves my making an effort to persuade others
to think as I do, so that their understanding and their
desire should entirely accord with my understanding and
my desire (35-36).
Note that Spinoza is not merely interested in the abstract, merely
theoretical, possibility that a good number of people might work
together toward a common end. Rather he is concerned with his own
happiness--that his own power of activity might be preserved and
enhanced. As such, it behooves him to persuade others in his
historical social context to think as he does so that their pursuit
of the good will not be working at cross purposes to his own.4
This is the primary reason that he wants the understanding and
desires of others to accord with his own--although it is quite
certain that he really believes that what will lead to his
happiness, will lead to the happiness of others, as well.5 To
bring all this about, he lists five things that are necessary,
which can be paraphrased as follows (cf. TIE 236):
1. To understand as much about Nature as suffices for
acquiring the aforementioned nature.
2. To establish a social order which is conducive o such
an end.
3. To attend to moral philosophy and education.
4. To develop the science of medicine.
5. To develop the science of physics.
Of course, number one is all that is really necessary, but we may
view numbers 2-4 as necessary to it. This same idea is presented
more generally in TTP where he enumerates "worthy objects of
desire" which are equivalent to "true goods" in TIE (i.e. that
which contributes to the acquisition of the supreme good):
All worthy objects of desire can be classified under one
of these three general headings:
1. To know things through their primary causes.
2. To subjugate the passions; i.e. to acquire the habit of
virtue.
3. To live in security and good health (90).
Now Spinoza, if anyone, knew how to subjugate the passions--indeed,
the demonstration of that very knowledge is his main concern in the
Ethics. And, it is probably the case that Spinoza felt, as did
many enlightenment thinkers, that humanity was on the verge of a
scientific revolution that would provide extraordinary advances in our
knowledge of primary causes--it would be just a matter of time.
Unfortunately, the third item on the list-- living in security and
good health --remained problematic insofar as ecclesiastical leaders
continued to influence political policy (directly and indirectly)
in nearly every european country. As such, freedom of thought was
greatly restricted, and censorship of controversial works was the
rule, not the exception. Not only was it particularly risky to
resist these restrictions, but there was considerable political and
social unrest, due to conflicts between various religious and
political factions, which, no doubt, rendered less secure the life
of the public at large as well as that of the "free thinker." In
addition, there was the further consideration that the advance of
science-- including medical science --was retarded considerably by
the aforementioned restrictions. Thus it was clearly in Spinoza's
interests to do what he could to change the prevailing political
winds in such a way that greater freedom of speech, and, as a
result, greater freedom thought, would be possible. Such a change
would contribute considerably towards realizing his desire to live
in security and good health by encouraging tolerance (if not
respect) for individuals articulating new ideas. Furthermore, this
increased tolerance would allow for the intensification of
scholarly communication, which would, in turn, facilitate the
general advance of science and medicine. These, it seems to me,
are the basic motives and objectives behind the writing of TTP. As
such, the conclusions reached in that work are hardly surprising:
the state can pursue no safer course than to regard piety
and religion as consisting solely in the exercise of
charity and just dealing, and that the right of the
sovereign, both in religious and secular spheres, should
be restricted to men's actions, with everyone being
allowed to think what he will and to say what he thinks (299).6
We have seen, then, that Spinoza's mind, like the prophets of old
about which he writes in TTP, is directed exclusively towards what
is right and good--albeit, not some objective good in-itself, but
his own good. A good which, however, if it is to be obtained,
requires that he persuade others to think as he does, so that their
understanding and their desire should entirely accord with his own.
With that end in view-- a "true good" and "worthy object of desire"
--he interrupts his work on the Ethics and sets down to write TTP.
If he is to be successful, however, he must, like the prophets of
old, adapt his message to the imagination and temperament of those
to whom it is directed, i.e. according to the beliefs in which they
had been brought up, with a view to exerting a practical influence
(as described above) on the course of events in his historical,
social, context.
PART TWO: A Message Adapted to the Understanding of His Audience
As indicated above, the form in which the messages of the
prophets were cast varied according to the imagination and
temperament of each and according to the beliefs in which they had
been brought up. These messages were adapted, we said, to the
particular audience of each, with the ultimate intention of the
prophet being to inspire the people to obedience. The Apostles, as
well, Spinoza argues,
chose such methods of teaching as they thought best
adapted to those whom they wished to instruct at the time
(210).
Spinoza distinguishes between the Prophets and the Apostles,
insofar as the latter, at least when writing, were reasoning, and
not relating a vision accompanied by a sign. The minds of both,
however, were directed exclusively towards what was right and good,
and the messages of both were adapted to the audience to which they
were directed--the latter intentionally, the former, in some cases
at least, unintentionally.
We concluded, in part one, that Spinoza's mind, like the
prophets and apostles, was directed exclusively towards what was
right and good. And we saw further that reason dictates to Spinoza
that he, in the pursuit of what he understands to be "true goods"
or "worthy objects of desire," attempt to influence his historical,
social, context in such a way as to encourage the powers that be to
value freedom of thought and speech. Now those who would attempt
to exert such an influence have basically two alternatives: They
may start a "grassroots" movement, by taking their case directly to
the people, or, they may attempt to influence those in positions of
leadership. Both alternatives require that the message be adapted
to the understanding of the audience, and Spinoza was especially
aware of this fact in relation to the public at large. In TIE, for
example-- with regard to his desire to bring the desire and
understanding of others into agreement with his own --he writes:
But since we have to continue with our lives while
pursuing this end and endeavoring to bring the intellect
into the right path, our first priority must be to lay
down certain rules for living, as being good rules. [The
first of them is] as follows: To speak to the
understanding of the multitude and to engage in all those
activities that do not hinder the attainment of our aim.
For we can gain no little advantage from the multitude,
provided that we accommodate ourselves as far as possible
to their level of understanding. Furthermore, in this way
they will give a more favorable hearing to the truth
(236).
In TTP, as well, he observes that because most people are unable or
unwilling to attend to a long deduction from intellectual axioms to
logical conclusions, it is therefore the case that one who wishes
to teach some doctrine to a nation-- not to mention the whole of
mankind --must above all
adapt his arguments and the definitions relevant to his
doctrine to the understanding of the common people, who
form the greatest part of mankind (120).
In light of these texts, and in light of our consideration (in part
one) of Spinoza's desire to persuade others to think as he does,
there can be no doubt that he envisioned, and wished to contribute
to, a virtual revolution in respect to the most practical aspects
of religious, political, and educational affairs. The only
question was how--how might he best contribute to such a
revolutionary end? It is my thesis that TTP was Spinoza's answer
to that question. Now it is fairly clear that TTP was never
intended for the popular press. It was published in latin, and
Spinoza went to some pains to prevent a (rumored) Dutch translation
from being published (cf. Letter 44). Indeed, Spinoza explicitly
addresses "learned readers" in his preface to the work, and, with
respect to the masses, writes:
To others [the unlearned] I seek not to commend this
treatise, for I have no reason to expect them to approve
it in any way. I know how deeply rooted in the mind are
the prejudices embraced under the guise of piety. I
know, too, that the masses can no more be freed from
their superstition than from their fears. Finally, I
know that they are unchanging in their obstinacy, that
they are not guided by reason, and that their praise and
blame is at the mercy of impulse. Therefore I do not
invite the common people to read this work, nor all those
who are victims of the same emotional attitudes. Indeed,
I would prefer that they disregard this book completely
rather than make themselves a nuisance by misinterpreting
it after their wont (56).
It seems, then, that Spinoza intended the work primarily for an educated--
perhaps scholarly --audience, but with the hope, ultimately, that the conclusions
reached would become current enough to affect the desired change--
current, if not in the minds of the common herd, at least in the
minds of the shepherds whom they were wont to follow.
But despite the fact that the work is directed towards educated
readers, it seems that Spinoza, nevertheless, feels
compelled to "accommodate [himself] as far as possible to their
level of understanding" so that "they will give a more favorable
hearing to the truth" (TIE 236). Furthermore, it is quite clear
that he "[adapts] his arguments and the definitions relevant to his
doctrine to [their] understanding" (TTP 120). Illustrating just
how he does these things will constitute the remainder of our
discussion.
That Spinoza is writing out of the desire to persuade his
audience-- by what ever means he judges to be most effective --is
indicated even in the preface where he speaks so scornfully of the
unlearned. His caustic remarks appeal to the readers's vanity,
encouraging them to identify with the learned--i.e. those that are
guided by reason rather than impulse; those who do not conceal
prejudices beneath a facade of piety; those who are not bound by
superstition and fear (56). Certainly, it is not imagined that by
writing such a preface Spinoza would actually discourage anyone
from continuing once they had proceeded that far. Rather, he hopes
to set a tone at the beginning which will work to counteract the
very prejudices and superstition which continues to haunt the minds
of even learned men. For even the most educated among his contemporaries
tended to remain at least somewhat imprisoned by the chalk circle
of Christian dogma.7 As
such, Spinoza is forced to write in a style much different from
that found in the Ethics, where, for the most part, he depends on
reason alone to persuade the reader.
It seems that there are three main respects in which Spinoza,
in TTP, adapts his message to the imagination and temperament of
those to whom it is directed. First, in his analysis of the
prophets, he seems to give special treatment to Moses and Jesus,
apparently in deference to the veneration popularly accorded to
each as the founders of the traditions of Judaism and Christianity.
Second, he continues to employ traditional, religious language, but
in a very untraditional way--describing what are, for him, very
natural occurrences in terms which gives them a religious and
(sometimes) even a supernatural cast. And third, he judges that we
should accept as true something that cannot be demonstrated, viz.
the salvation of the ignorant. I will, with respect to each of the
items indicated, show why each of them constitutes an accommodation
and why, as I see it, Spinoza feels justified making such
accommodations.
One need not read far in TTP before realizing that Spinoza
rejects the ordinary conception of the prophet as one imbued with
a special wisdom from on high. Rather, than having a superior mind
or superior wisdom, Spinoza describes the prophet as having a more
vivid imagination and a more intense devotion to piety and virtue.
And anything of which the Jews were ignorant of the causes, or
anything that seemed extraordinary, was attributed to God--not
excepting those qualities which were characteristic of the prophets
(67). For when scripture says that the spirit of the Lord was upon
a prophet, or that they were filled with the spirit, it merely
means that "they were endowed with an extraordinary virtue
exceeding the normal and that they devoted themselves to piety with
especial constancy" (70). Further, as we will discuss in more
detail below, Spinoza denies that any miracle or sign accompanying
the prophets message is anything more than a coincidental effect of
natural causes that functions to confirm the prophets message and
to inspire obedience. Finally, Spinoza, indicates that the visions
and voices perceived by the prophets were nothing more than the
product of their hypertrophic imaginative faculty (73, 64-5).
While the foregoing account is typical-- indeed, of almost universal
application --there are two interesting exceptions, viz. Moses and
Christ. Spinoza argues that, of all the prophets, God manifested
himself to Moses alone through an audible voice and that Christ alone
communed with God mind to mind (64). The reverence with which he
describes these two exceptions is striking, particularly so with
reference to Christ:
a man who can perceive by pure intuition that which is
not contained in the basic principles of our cognition
and cannot be deduced therefrom must needs possess a mind
whose excellence far surpasses the human mind. Therefore
I do not believe that anyone has attained such a degree
of perfection surpassing all others, except Christ. To
him God's ordinances leading men to salvation were
revealed not by words or by visions, but directly, so
that God manifested himself to the Apostles through the
mind of Christ as he once did to Moses through and
audible voice. The Voice of Christ can thus be called
the Voice of God in the same way as that which Moses
heard (64).
Spinoza emphasizes that his assertions in this regard are neither
an affirmation nor a denial of traditional doctrines regarding
Christ which he claims not to understand (64). Rather, he says,
Nowhere have I read that God appeared to Christ or spoke
with him, but that God was revealed to the Apostles
through Christ, that Christ is the way of salvation...
Therefore, if Moses spoke with God face to face as a man
may do with his fellow (through the medium of their two
bodies), then Christ communed with God mind to mind (65).
But the very fact that Spinoza makes both Moses and Christ
exceptions to his general rule concerning the prophets would seem
to be extremely significant. With respect to Moses, he presents a
rather careful analysis of scriptural texts in the process of
coming to his conclusion, but one wonders if this effort would have
been expended on a less noteworthy prophet. With regard to Christ,
his conclusion, though almost divorced from any scriptural analysis
(save the very general reference to Christ as the revelation of
God), is thoroughly incredible. Can anyone imagine that Spinoza
really believes that Jesus of Nazareth had such an extraordinary
mind? I think not and cannot help but conclude that in both cases
he is genuflecting the religious leaders of both Jews and
Christians, adapting his message to their understanding by giving
special treatment to Moses and Jesus. He does this quite obviously
in deference to the veneration popularly accorded to each as the
founders of Judaism and Christianity. Since Christianity is the
dominant force he must deal with, his genuflection toward Christ is
understandably more pronounced. But in both cases, he goes to
considerable length to arrive at conclusions which he knows will
make his overall message more agreeable his audience, many of
which-- for all their education --held great stock in their
particular religious traditions.
With regard to the second point-- his use of traditional,
religious language in untraditional ways --six examples come readily
to mind (though there are others, as well): His use of the words
"God," "Miracle," "Chosen," "Prophesy," "Faith," and "Salvation."8
While Spinoza's usage of all these terms is not entirely new,
it remains the case that in the context of conventional scripture
interpretation, he is using them in a radically unorthodox way. To
illustrate my point, I will first consider explicitly his use of
the words "God", "Miracle", and "Chosen." His use of the remaining
words-- "prophesy," "faith," and "salvation" --will then become clear
in the discussion of the salvation of the ignorant which follows.
Spinoza's notion of God, as we pointed out in part one, has no
connotation of a personal, supernatural, being that is concerned
exclusively with the good of human beings. Instead, as Spinoza
points out over and over in The Ethics as well as TTP, the power of
God and the power of nature are one and the same, and the order of
nature is not oriented, per se (that is especially or exclusively)
toward the good of human beings. For example, when discussing the
difficulty the prophets had in reconciling their notion of god's
providence with vicissitudes in the lives of men, he observes that
this is not a problem for philosophers insofar as they realize that
true happiness lies solely in virtue and peace of mind,
and they strive to conform with Nature, not to make
Nature conform with them; for they are assured that God
directs Nature in accordance with the requirements of her
universal laws and not in accordance with the
requirements of the particular laws of human nature.
Thus God takes account of the whole of Nature, and not of
the human race alone (130-131).
This naturalization of god requires the further naturalization of
miracles. Whereas miracles are conceived of both popularly and
theologically as the intervention of God in the world in a way
that opposes the natural course of things, for Spinoza they are
merely natural effects which excite wonder in observers insofar as
they are ignorant of their causes and ignorant of anything similar
for which they could give a causal account:
the word miracle can be understood only with respect to
men's beliefs, and means simply an event whose natural
cause we-- or at any rate the writer or narrator of the
miracle --cannot explain by comparison with any other normal event
(127).9
Similarly, Spinoza gives a natural account of what it means to be
"chosen" of God.
Both Christians and Jews consider themselves to be a "chosen"
of God, and Spinoza agrees. But rather than being a decision on
the part of God, analogous (in any religiously significant sense)
to a "choice" made by a human being, "chosenness," for Spinoza,
means nothing more than being determined according to the fixed
laws of nature:
since no one acts except by the predetermined order of
Nature-- that is, God's eternal direction and decree --it
follows that no one chooses a way of life for himself or
accomplishes anything except by the special vocation of
God who has chosen one man before others for a particular
work or a particular way of life (90).
On this view, everyone is chosen. As far as the Jews are
concerned-- as a nation --Spinoza considers them to have been chosen
only with respect to the (temporary) preservation and material
prosperity of their state (91). And while he does not discuss the
Christian notion of election, per se, it is clear that he would
reject any such claims insofar as they go beyond the temporal
preservation and material prosperity of the individual.
It is interesting to note that in employing such traditional
language in new ways, Spinoza is attempting to do something in this
work which he knows to be extremely difficult. In chapter 7,
discussing the possible attempts by some to corrupt the meaning of
a passage of scripture, Spinoza indicates that such an attempt,
indeed, could readily be conceived of with regard to an entire
passage, but that the same could not be said of an attempt to
change the meaning of individual words (148). Although his
concluding remarks in this regard refer (properly) to the editing
of scriptural texts, they nonetheless indicate a dynamic operative
in TTP:
if anyone should wish to change the customary meaning of
a word, he would find it difficult to maintain
consistency thereafter both in his writing and in his
speaking (148).
But despite the difficulties involved in "maintaining consistency,"
we have seen that Spinoza does change the customary meaning of many
words. Now this is in no way implying that Spinoza intended to
deceive his readers, per se, by his use of such traditional
language in untraditional ways--indeed, he explains quite clearly
what his definition as each old word is used in a new way.
However, I think it is obvious that such untraditional usage of
traditional language functions to accomodate the perspectives of those
who continue to be affected by its emotive force. In other words,
Spinoza reasons that by continuing to use traditional language, the
emotional reaction of the reader will be more favorable, making it
possible for them to suspend judgement on individual claims until
they have a sense of his work as a whole--at which time, he hopes,
a more purely rational response will be possible. Such a response,
requires, however, that they be somewhat seduced, emotionally, at
first.
Spinoza's arguments regarding the salvation of the ignorant
and the conclusions which he reaches in that regard (chapter
fifteen) are perhaps the most perplexing in the entire work. That
the blessedness which he describes in The Ethics is not accessible
to the ignorant is evident from his closing remarks in that work:
The ignorant man, besides being driven hither and thither
by external causes, never possessing true contentment of
spirit, lives as if he were unconscious of himself, God,
and things, and as soon as he ceases to be passive, he at
once ceases to be at all. On the other hand, the wise
man, insofar as he is considered as such, suffers
scarcely any disturbance of spirit, but being conscious,
by virtue of a certain eternal necessity, of himself, of
God and of things, never ceases to be, but always
possesses true spiritual contentment. If the road I have
pointed out as leading to this goal seems very difficult,
yet it can be found. Indeed, what is so rarely
discovered is bound to be hard. For if salvation were
ready to hand and could be discovered without great toil,
how could it be that it is almost universally neglected?
All things excellent are as difficult as they are rare
(E5, P42, Schol.).
Two things must be noted about "salvation" as Spinoza conceives of
it in the passage above. First, it has virtually nothing in common
with the Christian notion of salvation insofar as the latter is
imagined to involve personal immortality or the resurrection of the
body. Second, as noted above, this type of "blessedness" is
clearly inaccessible to the ignorant. And not only does Spinoza
disparage the idea of the ignorant attaining "salvation" in The Ethics, in
TTP, as well, he continuously refers to the "multitude" in almost
contemptuous terms as virtually condemned to a miserable existence.
For example, in the preface, where he elaborates on the proclivity
of the masses for superstition, Spinoza observes that
Men's readiness to fall victim to any kind of
superstition makes it correspondingly difficult to
persuade them to adhere to one and the same kind.
Indeed, as the multitude remains ever at the same level
of wretchedness, so it is never long contented, and is
best pleased only with what is new and has not yet proved
delusory (50).
Elsewhere, he speaks of the Jewish multitude as those who "knew not
blessedness" and of the observances and ceremonies of Jews and
Christians alike as being a form of bondage that contribute nothing
to blessedness (88, 119). Indeed, blessedness is, in the strictest
sense, attainable only through the intellectual love of god which
is a state of mind totally divorced from obedience to any
ceremonial observance or externally imposed law--a salvation
available only to those who "know god aright," i.e. through "the
guidance of reason":
love of God is not obedience but a virtue necessarily
present in a man who knows God aright, whereas obedience
is the will of him who commands, and not [obedience] to
necessity and truth. . . . Furthermore, we have shown
that the divine commandments appear to us as commandments
or ordinances only as long as we do not know their cause.
Once this is known, they cease to be commandments, and we
embrace them as eternal truths . . . that is obedience
forthwith passes into love which arises from the
knowledge by the same necessity as light arises from the
sun. Therefore by the guidance of reason we can love
god, but not obey him (307-8, Note 34 to page 246).
But for all the exclusivity in terms of which salvation, in this
strictest sense, is described by Spinoza, and despite his many
allusions to the "wretchedness of the multitude," he nonetheless
speaks of the salvation of the ignorant through obedience--a truth
which cannot, he says, be demonstrated, but which we are justified,
nevertheless, in believing. Indeed, even before he explicitly
addresses this question in chapter fifteen, he often indicates that
some such "salvation" is possible. As early as chapter five, he
writes:
He who abounds in these fruits [of the spirit (Gal.
5:22)] . . . whether he be taught by reason alone or by
Scripture alone, is in truth taught by god, and is
altogether blessed (123).
And in chapter seven, he writes:
as to the common people for our own time, we have already
shown that whatsoever is necessary for salvation, even
though its rational justification be not understood, can
be readily grasped in any language, because it is couched
in ordinary and familiar terms (157).
Now despite the fact that he says "we have already shown" certain
things concerning the salvation of the common people, the question
has not, at this point, really been addressed (beyond a few bare
assertions like the one's above). It is not addressed in any
detail until chapter fifteen and even there it is remains unclear
just what Spinoza means by salvation in this context. As indicated
above, it cannot be the same as the salvation of the wise, nor can
it involve the notion of personal immortality or bodily
resurrection. It seems, in the end, little more than an empty
ideal.10 However that may be, to better understand the conclusions
reached in chapter fifteen, we must review briefly Spinoza's
position with regard to prophets and prophesy.
We must remember that, for Spinoza, a prophet is one who is
endowed by god not with a superior mind but with a more vivid
imagination and a more resolute devotion to that which is good (65,
70, 71). And since prophesy is a product of the imagination, it
does not carry with it its own certainty, but requires a sign, from
which it derives a species of certainty, viz. "moral certainty,"
which is, however, inferior to the mathematical certainty
accompanying the knowledge of eternal truths arrived at through the
natural light of reason (74). Furthermore, the devotion of the
prophet to piety and virtue had to be evident--i.e. even an
accompanying sign (for example a miracle or the fulfillment of a
prediction) was not a sufficient confirmation of the prophets
admonition if he was seeking to introduce new gods or to contravene
established laws. Thus, as indicated above, the unity of scripture
rests in the fact that all the prophets (including the apostles)
were attempting to inspire the people to the "true life"--a life of
justice and charity. Their messages were not an attempt to convey
eternal truths, but to persuade to obedience. And it is obedience--
rather then the belief in any particular dogma or the performing
of any ritual --that Spinoza considers to be a necessary and
sufficient indication that one has true faith. The aim of
scripture is to teach obedience and the entire law consists in love
of neighbor. It is not necessary to believe anything beyond what
is necessary for the fulfilling of this commandment (221). Thus
"faith" is defined as follows:
the holding of certain beliefs about God such that,
without these beliefs, there cannot be obedience to God,
and if this obedience is posited, these beliefs are
necessarily posited (222).
As it is further argued that
if [one's] works are good, he is a believer, however much
he may differ in religious dogma from other believers;
whereas if his works are evil, he is an unbeliever,
however much he may agree with them verbally (222)
On this basis, Spinoza is able to argue that true faith does not
require true dogmas so much as pious dogmas, i.e. dogmas which are
believed, indeed, but dogmas which move one to obedience, as well.
And since each man's faith should be regarded as pious or impious
not in respect of its truth or falsity, but in respect to whether
or not it is conducive to obedience or obstinacy, it follows that
a universal faith, endorsed by the powers that be, should contain
no dogma's that are controversial to good men (223-4).11
Now
Spinoza goes on to enumerate "all the tenants" of such a universal
faith (seven of them), only one of which concerns us here (# 6):
All who obey God by following this way of life, and only
those, are saved; others, who live at pleasure's behest,
are lost. If men did not believe this, there is no reason
why they should obey God rather than their desires (224-
5).
Now Spinoza considers this proposition (that men can be saved
simply by obedience) to be a "fundamental principle of theology"--a
principle, however, which reason cannot demonstrate (233).
Nevertheless, he argues, we can accept it with "moral certainty" on
the basis of judgement. His judgement in this regard can be
summarized as follows: The prophets taught-- with sincere
conviction confirmed by signs --that men may achieve blessedness by
obedience and faith. Furthermore, all their moral teaching is in
full agreement with reason. Therefore, we can accept this
proposition without our judgement being called into question (234).
He concludes, then, that
It would be folly to refuse to accept [for lack of
certainty] that which is abundantly confirmed by the
testimony of the prophets, that which is the source of so
much comfort to those less gifted with intelligence, and
of considerable advantage to the state, and which we can
believe without incurring any peril or hurt (234).
This argument-- as to why we should accept the notion of the
salvation of the ignorant --is perhaps the weakest in the entire
work. Not only do we have no clear idea as to what Spinoza really
means by "salvation" in this context, but we are asked to accept it
as probably-- or, at any rate, possibly! --true, merely because of
its practical value. But while this may be the weakest link in
Spinoza's overall argument, it provides strong evidence for the
thesis that Spinoza is seeking to accommodate his message to the
understanding of his audience. What hope would he have of
persuading even the most erudite of Christians that many of the
particulars of Christian dogma were superfluous, unless he can
provide strong evidence that his "catholic faith" can do everything
their's does, only better? It would be disastrous to state
explicitly that there can be no salvation for the ignorant. And
yet this is virtually the conclusion to be drawn from his closing
remarks in The Ethics.
We have seen, then, three basic ways in which Spinoza adapts
his message to the understanding of his audience. First, he quite
clearly accords special treatment to Moses and Christ in deference
to the veneration in which both are held as the founders of Judaism and
Christianity. Second, we saw that he employs traditional language
in very untraditional ways. We discussed in some detail his use of
the words "God," "Miracle," and "Chosen," and we saw in our
discussion of salvation, that he means something quite different by
the words "salvation," "prophesy," and "faith," as well. Finally,
we saw that he introduces the notion of the salvation of the
ignorant, not because he believes it to be demonstrably true, but
because of its practical value--let's pretend it is true, he says
in effect. We said that by making these accommodations to the
prejudices of his listeners, he is not trying to deceive so much as to
seduce them, as it were, insofar as such accommodations would serve to
minimise his readers's adverse emotional reactions so as to allow for a more
favorable hearing of the truth. When the work has been entirely
digested, and the light of reason switched on, as it were, such
accommodations would have served their purpose and could be cast
aside. The reader would then be ready, perhaps, for his Ethics.
CONCLUSION
We have seen, then, that Spinoza can be considered as a sort
of prophet of reason insofar as his mind is, in a manner of
speaking, "directed exclusively toward that which is right and
good," and insofar as he does, in his pursuit of his vision of the
good, adapt his message to the imagination and temperament of those
to whom it is directed, i.e. according to the beliefs in which they
had been brought up. We argued that the good which Spinoza is
pursuing is his own, individual, good, and that the rational
pursuit of his good required that he attempt to exert a practical
influence on the course of events in his historical, social
context. The writing of TTP, I argued, was his attempt to persuade
others to think as he did so that their pursuit of the good would
not be working at cross purposes to his own. I argued further
that, despite the fact that TTP is directed towards an educated (possibly scholarly)
audience, he was still required to accommodate his message to
their understanding--for even the well educated in the seventeenth
century remained emotionally bound to Christian dogma. He did
this, I argued, in three basic ways: by means of his deference to
the traditional veneration of Moses and Christ; by retaining the
use of traditional terms because of their emotive force; and by
arguing for the acceptance of the notion of the salvation of the
ignorant. By accommodating his audience in these ways, Spinoza
sought to obtain a more favorable hearing for a truth which he
hoped would lead, eventually, to some very revolutionary changes.
Notes
1. At best superfluous, insofar as any apparently miraculous
occurrence, rather than revealing God to us, is indicative of our
ignorance of God. [Return]
2. Brad Gregory, in section II of his "Introduction" to
Shirley's Translation of TTP, also discusses the practical emphasis
of Spinoza's philosophy, and touches, as will I, upon the
relationship of TIE and TTP to The Ethics. [Return]
3. Den Uyl indicates the influence of Hobbes on Spinoza, but
points out several important differences between the two, one of
them being that Spinoza, unlike Hobbes, does not see any loss of natural
right "consequent on one's entrance into society." One
still has the right to do all one can do in civil society
(10). [Return]
4. Spinoza falls within the classical, rather than the modern,
tradition insofar as his first concern is with the attainment of
individual blessedness. Like Aristotle, he sees the community as
essentially a means to an end, which is the good of the individuals
in it. Whereas non-classical philosophers (e.g. Mill, Hegel, and
Marx), see the social good as paramount--the individual being a
means to this higher good (I am indebted to Dr. Lee Rice, of
Marquette University, for this insight). [Return]
5. In the Ethics, he writes:
Men, I repeat, can wish for nothing more excellent for
preserving their own being than that they should all be in such
harmony in all respects that their minds and bodies should compose,
as it were, one mind and one body, and that all together should
endeavor as best they can to preserve their own being, and that all
together they should aim at the common advantage of all. From this
it follows that men who are governed by reason, that is, men who
aim at their own advantage under the guidance of reason seek
nothing for themselves that they would not desire for the rest of
mankind (165). [Return]
6. This text is the final segment of the last in a series of
four concluding remarks which Spinoza enumerates at the end of TTP
(298-299). [Return]
7. Nietzsche describes the typical "victim" of Christianity as
follows: "from now on he is like a hen imprisoned by a chalk line.
He can no longer get out of this chalk circle: the invalid has
been transformed into "the sinner" (III, 20). [Return]
8. Brad Gregory discusses a few of these, very briefly, in his
Introduction to Shirley's Translation of TTP (42). [Return]
9. Rice, following Collins, observes that Spinoza
distinguishes between three meanings of miracles which he refers to
as "factual ignorance," "opposition," and "transcendence." The
last one, he indicates, is ultimately reducible to a version of the
oppositional concept (Rice 190). [Return]
10. My primary concern is to point out Spinoza's practical
motives for accepting this notion. However, the question must at
some point be raised: In what sense, if any, is "the salvation of
the ignorant" described in TTP analogous to the "salvation of the
wise" such that Spinoza is theoretically justified in using the
same term to apply to both? While it is beyond the scope of this
work to address this question, I would suggest the following as a
possible approach: Both that which individuals acquire for
themselves and that which is provided for them is said to be
provided solely by the divine power. The former is God's internal
help, the latter is God's external help (89-90). The happiness and
peace of those who cultivates their natural understanding (i.e. the
wise) depend not on the sway of fortune (God's external help) but
on their own internal virtue (God's internal help) [111]. Perhaps
the ignorant experience a salvation of sorts insofar as their
actions accord with what would be their rational duty to themselves
(the dictates of right reason). However, the benefit thus received
would involve merely their temporal preservation and the
satisfaction of their most basic needs and would not entail the
sense of inner peace and freedom characteristic of the intellectual
love of God. Since such temporal, material benefit, can be
construed as the external help God, it constitutes a salvation of
sorts, but it is experienced passively rather than actively.[Return]
11. Of course, Spinoza take the position that individuals
should be free to adopt personally whatever beliefs they find to
inspire within themselves devotion to justice and charity. [Return]
WORKS CITED
Den Uyl, Douglas J. Power, State and Freedom: An interpretation
of Spinoza's Political Philosophy. Assen, The Netherlands: Van
Gorcum & Company, 1983.
Rice, Lee C. "Piety and Philosophical Freedom in Spinoza."
Spinoza's Political and Theological Thought (Amsterdam: North
Holland Publishing Company, 1984) 184-204.
Gregory, Brad S. "Introduction." Tractatus Theologico-Politicus.
Trans. Samuel Shirley. New York: E.J. Brill, 1989.
Spinoza, Baruch. Correspondence. Trans. A. Wolf. London: George
Allen & Unwin LTD, 1928.
__________. The Ethics. Treatise on the Emendation of the
Intellect. Trans. Samuel Shirley. Indianapolis: Hackett
Publishing Company, 1992.
__________. Tractatus Theologico-Politicus. Trans. Samuel
Shirley. New York: E.J. Brill, 1989.
OTHER WORKS CONSULTED
Allison, Henry E. Benedict de Spinoza: An Introduction. New
Haven: Yale University Press, 1987.
Donagan, Alan. Spinoza. Chicago: University of Chicago Press,
1988.
Force, James E. "Spinoza's Tractatus Theologico-Politicus: A New
Way of Looking at the World." The Southern Journal of
Philosophy (Fall 1974, Vol. 12, No. 3) 343-355.
Lang, Berel. "The Politics of Interpretation: Spinoza's Modernist
Turn." The Review of Metaphysics (Dec. 1989, Vol. 48, No. 2)
327-356.
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