Owen Barfield argues that the modern supposition of a world of “objects” existing independently of our consciousness/mind is nothing less than idolatry. He means this not only analogically or in some cute poetic way—nay, for him, the notion of autonomous “objects” independent of consciousness is a specific “spiritual” or “existential” (neither are terms he often uses, to my knowledge) disposition towards the world which obscures the participation of ourselves in it, thereby conceiving the “object” has having “life in itself” (conflating it with God).
And, as the Psalmist says, we become like what we worship:
Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us, but unto thy name give glory, for thy mercy, and for thy truth's sake.
Wherefore should the heathen say, Where is now their God?
But our God is in the heavens: he hath done whatsoever he hath pleased.
Their idols are silver and gold, the work of men's hands.
They have mouths, but they speak not: eyes have they, but they see not:
They have ears, but they hear not: noses have they, but they smell not:
They have hands, but they handle not: feet have they, but they walk not: neither speak they through their throat.
They that make them are like unto them; so is every one that trusteth in them.
(Psalm 115:1-8)
And so, our idolatrous disposition towards the world has “produced a ‘world of outsides with no insides to them,’ a brittle surface world, an object world in which we ourselves are mere objects.” 1
There’s a remarkable overlap between Barfield and many of the thinkers I’ve been reading these past couple of years, and I am deeply grateful to
for gifting me two of his best books. I recently made a video arguing that “relativism” leads to violence since it claims that there is no fundamental “unity” behind the world, no “whole.” Every part is conceived autonomously, and so they all pursue autonomous ends. This is most crudely, but clearly, expressed in Nietzsche's rhapsodic description of “my” universe of will to power “and nothing besides!” (I just realized the—perhaps intentional—formal consistency of Nietzsche’s rhetoric with its content—it is his world, what his will has asserted). This is essentially the thesis of the first few chapters of D.C. Schindler’s Plato’s Critique of Impure Reason, which convincingly argues that the modern (mostly academic) tendency towards skepticism of “reasons” (and “reason”) leads to a certain intellectual “violence” wherein positions are merely asserted on a “one-sided” basis (thereby being necessarily exclusive as opposed to truly unitive). Reason presupposes a “whole” and our access to it, and yet we find that we can only access it through a certain “humility” of reason, what Fr. Florensky calls its “ascesis.” But suppose there’s not a unitive coherence to the world. In that case, we can, alongside Nietzsche, affirm our own potential for self-creation within a world of will to powers (all while deceiving ourselves into insanity)! We must always remember thata person’s self-assertion, his opposition to God, is the source of his fragmentation and dissolution, the impoverishment of his inner life. And only love reunifies a person to some extent. But if a person who is already partly fragmented does not desist but wishes to become a god, “as gods” (Gen. 3:5), he is inevitably afflicted by a new fragmentation, newer and newer dissolution.2
I think that relativism is implied by idolatry because, through it, we ourselves become a mere object among a world of objects, not—as the Medievals thought—microcosms of the entire creation. We cannot perceive or participate within the world as a unity—only accessing “appearances” stripped of reality, not recognized as participatory representations with ontological content—resulting in a thoroughly atomized world (and, by unfortunate consequence, equally atomized people). The epistemological of relativism is precisely the claim that we only have access to “appearances,” which always—paradoxically—must also elevate what are, in fact, one-sided appearances to the status of ultimate reality (it’s really just an impoverished view of reality reflecting an impoverished spirit)—e.g. physicalism/materialism. Only if Ultimate Reality can shine through the contingent, formless, and particular can they have meaning without being worshipped as idols. Ultimately, Ultimate Reality shines in the Man Jesus Christ, in Whom the world was made and to Whom we can be united in the Spirit.
I would insist, however, that Barfield falls short in terms of what I am tempted to call a certain “monophysitism,” a failure to recognize the essential difference between human/created and divine natures in the undivided person of Christ (whose hypostasis is the “principle” behind creation’s simultaneous essential difference and participation in God). The “principle” behind creation thereby becomes personal, which is to say, free. This is the same freedom realized essentially as the dynamic coinherence of the three divine persons, whose life is eternally one of shared regard, delight, fellowship, feasting, and joy. And because sin—which is defeated on the Cross—cannot take part in this feast, we must also insist that our being (infected by sin) is utterly contingent, our salvation utterly unnecessary just as much as our creation in the first place.3 Every Christian metaphysics is penitential, ascetic, sacramental and liturgical (and, in a manner far beyond my current powers, one could say very many important things about Barfield’s understanding of Christ, the Eucharist, etc.). Despite Barfield’s insistence that “final participation” involves a recognition that we are not identical with God (despite the profound unity), I believe Barfield’s philosophy ultimately—to put it concisely—just isn’t “Orthodox” enough (his belief in reincarnation speaks for itself, and led his close friend, C.S. Lewis, to label his thought a certain kind of “Gnosticism”).4
I believe Barfield has relevance, however, for a deeply Christological metaphysics, phenomenology, and anthropology that sees the world of “objects” as being contingent on and made “for” human persons precisely because human persons are the image of God, the creature that God became. St. Maximus seems to be a clear guide for us. Christian metaphysics, I think, must ultimately assert that “God’s becoming” is the creative act, His free/personal condescension to share His being with us, His establishment of a creative covenant with what once was not, His initiation of a relationship that culminates in the dialogical reciprocity of the Man-God relation (fulfilled in the God-Man and or participation in Him—the Church). This seems to be the basic thesis of
’s work on St. Maximus.Anyway, I meant for this to be an explanation of why the mind is not material and it became an extended reflection on Owen Barfield. In the video linked below, available for paid subscribers and Patrons early access (it will be available publicly in the future), I discuss further why our minds cannot be reduced to matter and why we must conceive ourselves as “persons,” not mere objects. YouTube demonetized us last week (for “promoting violence” by daring to even talk about Ted Kaczynski), so our supporters are the only thing keeping us going!
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