Who's Afraid of Relativism?: Community, Contingency, and Creaturehood

by James K.A. Smith

Following his successful Who's Afraid of Postmodernism?, leading Christian philosopher James K. A. Smith introduces the philosophical sources behind postliberal theology. Offering a provocative analysis of relativism, Smith provides an introduction to the key voices of pragmatism: Ludwig Wittgenstein, Richard Rorty, and Robert Brandom.

Many Christians view relativism as the antithesis of absolute truth and take it to be the antithesis of the gospel. Smith argues that this reaction is a symptom of a deeper theological problem: an inability to honor the contingency and dependence of our creaturehood. Appreciating our created finitude as the condition under which we know (and were made to know) should compel us to appreciate the contingency of our knowledge without sliding into arbitrariness. Saying "It depends" is not the equivalent of saying "It's not true" or "I don't know." It is simply to recognize the conditions of our knowledge as finite, created, social beings. Pragmatism, says Smith, helps us recover a fundamental Christian appreciation of the contingency of creaturehood.

This addition to an acclaimed series engages key thinkers in modern philosophy with a view to ministry and addresses the challenge of relativism in a creative, original way.

Genres: Philosophy, Theology, Nonfiction, Christianity, Religion, Faith, Cultural

192 pages, Paperback

Published April 15, 2014

Reviews

[David · Rating 5 out of 5]

If you’ve spent any time in Christian circles discussing apologetics and theology, you are probably familiar with warnings against the specter of relativism. We are warned that moral relativists are the problem, they are slippery and stand on shaky ground According to relativism, we are told, anything and everything goes. Against this we must stand for objectivity – truth and morals are the same for everybody, always and everywhere.

Christian philosopher Jamie Smith thinks this not only oversimplifies and misrepresents relativism, he thinks clinging to objectivity is damaging to Christian faith. His fantastic book, Who’s Afraid of Relativism?, sets out to defend these points. He spends time introducing the reader to three philosophers who espouse pragmatism and relativism – Wittgenstein, Rorty and Brandom. Smith’s strategy is that of St. Augustine – to loot the Egyptians. This hearkens back to the story of Exodus, when the freed Israelites took prizes from Egypt. Augustine, in his day, found great philosophical truth in Platonic philosophy without adopting it wholesale. In other words, what this means is that we can find truth in these philosophers without affirming their ideas all through.

Smith finds a lot of truth in these philosophers. The primary truth Smith sees here is that pragmatism and relativism remind us of our creaturehood and contigency. To Smith, the focus on objectivity is an uncritical acceptance of modernity where universal objectivity was valued. The goal became a removal of all bias and a seat in a place where all could be seen. Yet, as Christians, we recognize only God possesses such knowledge. Postmodern philosophy reminds us of our location in a context, the fact we do not know all.

There is much more here of course. He spends the final chapter drawing out what we learn from these philosophers and applying it more directly to theology. My key takeaway here is that in the Christian life, like learning a language, we learn how to do it before we learn what it is. Take learning a language. All humans learn to speak a language long before they learn the rules of grammar. In the same way, we do not learn the doctrines of the church and then live based on them, as if simply having the right knowledge leads to dsicipleship. Instead we live in community with other Christians and learn the practices of faith. As we reflect on these practices, explain them before a listening world, we get the content of theology.

Overall, I highly recommend this book to all pastors and those interested in Christian theology and philosophy.

[Orville Jenkins · Rating 5 out of 5]

Smith provides an entertaining and astute serious philosophical analysis of the characteristics and implications of Relativism in late modern thought. He approaches this movement as an epistemological analysis, in terms of cognitive theory and theory of knowledge.

As he develops his analysis, Smith zeros in on the difference between concepts of knowledge in the modern focus on information as “Know-what” in contrast to the practical “know-how” of life. Smith shows how, in the desire for a simple analysis for easy reference and miss the real import, social movements conditions and the common ad hoc critiques miss the underlying streams of thought.

Smith writes like a novelist, with the keen incisive insight of a highly-knowledgeable academic who is in touch with current events and social trends and who can see the patterns through history. He focuses on the corrective insights Relativism brings in recognizing the limitation of human knowledge.

Writing as a philosopher who lives within the stream of Christian faith, he makes application of these cautions about human pretensions to absolute knowledge that show up in the dogmatism we see in contemporary “evangelical” Christianity in the US and the similar error in European Christianity in its dogmatic control of minds and lives.

He looks at classical and medieval social and philosophical movements in a congenial and knowledgeable manner in this regard. He also shows how the modern Enlightenment makes the same error. Relativism brings a healthy reminder of the fallibility of human knowledge and warns against the unwarranted hubris modernism fostered.

He likens this mindset to the “original sin” in the Genesis story where the desire to “know like God” led to what has been called the Fall. Easy to read, at the popular or academic level.

[Amar Peterman · Rating 4 out of 5]

This has unequivocally jumped to the top of my "recommend" list for introducing Christians to pragmatism and social-practical theory. Smith's generous and detailed treatment of Wittgenstein, Rorty, Brandom, and Lindbeck is both accessible and challenging.

[Shelby]

I'll just say... I was forced to read this for school....

[Daniel · Rating 2 out of 5]

In Who's Afraid of Relativism? James Smith argues that the works of Wittgenstein, Rorty, and Brandom can be profitably used in theology in order to circumvent the specter of 'correlationism' - the view that the truth of a proposition depends on whether or to what extent it correlates with 'reality'. The problem, here, is that, following Kant and others, reality is not something we can compare with our propositions: any time we confront reality, we are already doing so through a specific perspective and interpretive lens. Hence, if correlationism is true, there is, in fact, no way to know whether our propositions are true - there is no way to measure them against reality. In this sense, then, correlationism leads to epistemological agnosticism.

Smith, following his three select pragmatists, argues that we can avoid agnosticism by adopting an account of truth according to which the truth of our propositions do not depend on their adherence to an external reality but, rather, depend on the members of the community within which we live. Theological assertions are truth insofar as the theological community within which we are discoursing accepts our propositions to be true. Again, this is not relativism in the sense of 'everything goes' because no community will accept as true just any statement. There will always be boundaries, but these boundaries are relative to the community within which we participate.

In addition to advocating a pragmatist account of truth, Smith also seems to be interested in arguing that the practical elements of theology are more important than the purely theoretical elements. For too long, he argues, we have been prioritizing a propositional account of Christianity according to which acceptance within the Christian community is based on properly uttering a series of propositions. By contrast, Christianity, as a community, should not be reduced to an intellectual 'grasping' of various statements. Rather, Smith argues, it should embrace the entire person, both intellect and body.

I gave this book two stars for a number of reasons: first, I don't think James solves too many problems by endorsing a pragmatic account of truth. Second, for all the discussion of Christian praxis, his book remains at the level of theory.

With respect to the first criticism, consider this passage:

"Justification, on this model, is a social practice: "the intrapersonal, intercontent inherentance of entitlement to commitments" (AR, 165). My claims are about things, but they are made within the social "space of reasons" and discursive practice. While my claims are responsive to - and made within - environmental conditions, it is the discursive community that accepts, endorses, and authorizes "good" inferences . . . . Your claims will "score" as representations just to the extent that others ("we") are able to take them up and successfully employ them as premises in further inferences. What you give as a reason I can take as one and take up as a premise in other successful inferences; then your claim is true. When you are unable to give such reasons, or when your reasons don't accord with the environmental conditions that we share - when your claims don't seem to be "about" the state of affairs in front of us - then your claim is not going to be justified or authorized. If discursive practice is a kind of "score keeping," as Brandom often puts it, then it is important to remember that one can lose. That's what it is to be wrong: to not be awarded a point, to not make a good inferential move. In this way, we might say that "representation" is something that is conferred by a community of discursive practice." (145-146)

The problem here seems to be that the truth or falsity of a statement depends on the prior disposition or character of the community within which the speaker participates. While I realize that we must always be using a language invented and developed by others, there is also a creative element to language insofar as we are always changing the language we use (even if ever so slightly) by using it. If the truth and falsity of our statements depends or is relative to the community within which we live, there is the risk of the community becoming tyrannous insofar as it might not be able to understand the truth because of the limitations of its presuppositions. In this case, the one who speaks is mad; she utters false statements, not because she is, in fact, not a herald of the truth, but because she cannot be understood by the community. This, I believe, is an important point Smith does not (to my remembrance) address. Christians have historically been misunderstood by their communities, ostracized, and nevertheless spoken truthfully. At other times - as with Paul ("much learning has made you mad") - the community does not understand what is being said and so fails to express much reaction. In each of these cases, the speaker could have been speaking the truth while being 'wrong' on Smith's account.

With respect to the second point, Smith here, as in a number of other books, emphasizes that the Christian community should be characterized not just by its propositional consensus, but by its practical formation. It should not be enough to just believe the right things; We must also do the right things. The problem, here, is not that I think Smith is wrong to emphasize this point, but that he doesn't seem to recognize here (though he probably does elsewhere) the role of the Holy Spirit in using propositions - memorized Scripture, remembered passages, etc. - in transforming individuals. Think, for example, of Psalm 119:11 - "I have hidden your word in my heart that I might not sin against you". Now Smith, like others, might take the 'word' here to refer to Christ. But, even if it refers to Christ, the less figurative reading is also true. David expresses repeatedly his desire to meditate on the law - the theme of Psalm 119 - and so it is not wrong, by any means, to suppose that this passage encourages meditating on propositions in order to live differently. Meditation on propositions can have a practical, transformative effect. This, without a lot of maneuvering, seems to support the idea that memorization and reading scripture leads to spiritual transformation and development. Though I, like James, am critical of the highly formalized nature of Christian belief, as it is known, more or less, in the West, scripture does, through the Holy Spirit, change the lives. (As a side note, I believe that many churches need to start giving their young folks responsibilities. They need to stop granting the major roles entirely to the 'educated', as if receiving a PhD brings anyone closer to God . . . . Too often, the youth are considered 'not ready' or 'not old enough' to preach, lead Bible Studies, and participate. But without responsibilities, members, young or old, will never feel apart of their churches.)

Finally and briefly, for all his emphasis on the praxis of Christianity - again, I am doubtful even that such a clear distinction can be made between believing and doing, orthodoxy and orthopraxis (is not believing also doing and does not doing entail some kind of expressed or unexpressed belief?) - Smith tends to rely on the works of other theoreticians to the exclusion, unfortunately, of the teachings of those 'on the ground' or 'in the field' so-to-speak.

[Dan Lawler · Rating 3 out of 5]

The Unbearable Lightness of Being meets The Ontological Weight of the World

"It's not like my mother is a maniac or a raving thing. She just goes a little mad sometimes. We all go a little mad sometimes. Haven't you?" Norman Bates

The last time Professor Smith asked "Who's Afraid?" he was selling postmodernism to Christians with the pitch that they should view their churches as functional equivalents of the state mental institution in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. Here he tries to make pragmatism equally appealing.

How great would it be to attend the First Church of Christian Pragmatism? It would be like living in the Bate's Motel with dozens of tolerant, loving guests who accept Norman's claim that the corpse in the attic is his real live mom, and treat it as such because that's what Jesus would do. While Psycho is not Smith's film of choice to illustrate the benefits of pragmatism, he did select a functional equivalent: Lars and the Real Girl. There, a tolerant, loving community accepts Lars' claim that an anatomically correct sex doll is his real live girlfriend, and treats it as such "in order to love Lars and be that people who do what Jesus would do." (Page 63.)

For pragmatic purposes, treating a sex doll as a real live girl is no different than treating a corpse as a real live mom. That is what Ludwig Wittgenstein meant by "meaning is use." Words derive their meanings from how they are used in a given community, and if a community wants to use the phrase "real girl" in dealing with a sex doll, that is its pragmatic prerogative. The point (or "project" as postmoderns like to say) is to disassociate words from reference to objects in the real world, and sever ideas from correspondence to anything outside of our minds. Truth is not what corresponds to reality. Rather, "truth is what our peers will let us get away with saying." (33.) So says Richard Rorty who wants to "disabuse us of thinking that language 'represents' the world, 'hooks onto' the world, or 'corresponds to' the world." (85.) "Pragmatism rejects representation and correspondence," Smith says (85), and his peers let him get away with it, so it must be true. Or is it?

If truth and knowledge are simply what our peers allow us to say, do we "retreat from reality into some fantasy land where we can just make stuff up"? (92.) No, answers Smith, because there is a standard of accountability that constrains what is allowed to be said and keeps us out of fantasy land. That standard is the real world. Rorty, citing David Donaldson, says, "We do not give up the world, but reestablish unmediated touch with the familiar objects whose antics make our sentences and opinions true or false." (88.) Rorty himself "does not deny that 'we are shoved around by physical reality.'" (97.) Your peers may let you get away with saying that you are faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive, and able to safely leap from tall buildings in a single bound, but the real world will not. The objective things of the world have an "ontological weight about them that won't let us say just whatever we want about them." (92.)

By Smith's own admission then, pragmatism needs a reality check or it slides down the rabbit hole into Wonderland. But our links to reality - representation and correspondence - are rejected by pragmatism. That creates a dilemma for Smith and other pragmatists: either reality and rationality, or pragmatism and irrationality. Smith tries to escape from reality to keep his pragmatism, but the ontological weight of the world is not so easily shaken.

Smith does not get far down the rabbit hole before he has to make a rather embarrassing admission: when pragmatists speak, even among themselves, they invoke representation and correspondence. He tries to explain this away by claiming that when a pragmatist says, "That is a red ball," he is not associating the words "that" and "red" and "ball" with any external, objective thing in the world, nor is he claiming that the concept of a red ball corresponds to any particular, objective thing in the world. Rather, the pragmatist is merely making a statement that his peers may or may not find useful in their various endeavors to cope with their own circumstances; and you know the routine from here: when a pragmatist says "peers" and "endeavors" and "cope" and "circumstances," the words do not refer to anything in the external, objective world, and the concepts do not correspond to any particular, objective thing in the world, etc., etc., ad infinitum.

Smith cannot allow red balls to exist outside of the statements he makes about them. This aversion to red balls becomes both humorous and sad. When Smith tries to describe two pragmatists arguing about the color of a ball, he begins: "If we are encountered by a state of affairs in which I'm disposed to say, 'That is a red ball' ..." (145.) You see, he cannot bring himself to say that there actually is a red ball to which someone can point and say, "That is a red ball."

Pragmatism rejects representation and correspondence, we are told. But if words do not refer to an external reality, and concepts do not correspond to it, communication fails and knowledge ceases. To illustrate:

Imagine Smith and Rorty locked in a padded-cell together in the state mental institution (or make it a free-trade coffee kiosk at the local postmodern church; same difference). They are encountered by a state of affairs in which Smith is disposed to say, "That is a red ball," while Rorty is disposed to say, "That is my girlfriend." Without reference to an external reality, their statements are utterly meaningless. It does not help in the least if one of them were to add, "I am your peer and I do not let you get away with saying that" or, conversely, "I am your peer and I receive your statement." All you can say about their statements is that Smith and Rorty have made statements. The statements, however, are without content. No truth is communicated and no knowledge is conveyed. We have no way of knowing whether this is the speech of sane men or raving lunatics.

Pragmatism guts the meaning of not only red balls and real girls, it destroys everything it touches: truth, knowledge, reality, beauty, love, ... anything you can name. Smith protests that pragmatism merely "deflates" those terms with meanings that, though less robust than what reality can provide, may still be useful for coping with one's circumstances. But take any of those words and substitute them in place of the red ball and real girl in the Smith/Rorty exchange above and you will see there is nothing left after they have been pragmatically deflated. They are empty shells, unbearably light and unable to convey truth or knowledge or anything else.

But still nothing to be afraid of. Right?

[Alex Strohschein · Rating 4 out of 5]

I am very grateful for James K.A. Smith's scholarship. Modeling St. Augustine's "looting of the Egyptians," Smith ably appropriates insights of non-Christian philosophers and thinkers and demonstrates how their thought can constructively impact and orient theology and Christian practice.

Overall, I preferred the earlier "Who's Afraid of Postmodernism?" to this book, largely because at the time I read it I was finishing up my undergrad in sociology and Foucault is one of that discipline's key contributors. "Who's Afraid of Relativism?" explores the work of Wittgenstein, Rorty and Brandom (I had never heard of Brandom until reading this book). Smith criticizes those who abhor any hint of sympathy with relativism because they claim it will lead to nihilism; Smith argues that admitting our relativism is NOT necessarily going to lead someone into nihilism. I think Smith makes convincing arguments for Christians to adopt "relativist" and "pragmatic" approaches although I he could have explained himself more succinctly. He effectively points to the Incarnation as the ultimate act of condescension to mankind, an act necessary because of our contingency and creaturehood. His main point is that we can't just have cognitive belief or ecstatic expression; Christians need to be in community and be taught practices that orient us to Christ. Chapter 5 is the KEY chapter in which all the insights of the three philosophers are brought together and woven together with how the Church should act. I was a bit wary that Smith would entirely withdraw "natural law" from the table (to the horror of apologists!) but he affirms that there ARE indeed universals but that they can only be understood by being gifted with the interpretive lens of faith. The relativism discussed here is not so much MORAL relativism but the fact that are knowledge and practices are dependent upon context and circumstances.

[Andy Clark · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book is a wonderful examination of pragmatism and insights it can provide about the Christian worldview. Smith is incredibly skilled at making such a complex philosophical system accessible, making frequent use of pop culture allusions to illustrate his points. The book can drag and get a bit repetitive as Smith reiterates earlier points as his argument progresses, but his overarching thesis—that pragmatism helps articulate the finite nature of creaturehood—is compelling and thoroughly demonstrated.

[Luke Mohnasky · Rating 5 out of 5]

"Relativism, then, in this more precise sense, is just a name for the human condition, the ethos of creaturehood" (180).

James K.A. Smith's proposal of relativism as recognition of our creaturehood is such a beautiful philosophical work. This book is definitely much more dense than its postmodernism predecessor, but it is required for us to tear down the modernistic Babel we have built for ourselves. The postliberal church cries out for liberation from its representationalism captors, its ready to embrace an embodied communal life.

[Shaun Brown · Rating 5 out of 5]

Once again, Smith produced a book that I couldn't put down. It reminded me how much I love Wittgenstein and postliberal theology. In this work, Smith writes about technical subjects, the pragmatism of Wittgenstein, Rorty, and Brandom, in an accessible and engaging way, much like in his previous volume *Who's Afraid of Postmodernism?*

[Soren Johnson · Rating 5 out of 5]

Shockingly good.

[josh]

DNF @ 20%

[John · Rating 4 out of 5]

James K.A. Smith is one of my favorite contemporary Christian philosophers and theologians. One of the reasons for that is his courage, chutzpah, and buoyant hope in the face of difficult tasks. While 'Who's Afraid of Relativism?' isn't my favorite book by Smith, his strengths still shine brightly.

Smith explains that he is taking up "the unholy trinity of Jacques Derrida, Jean-Francois Lyotard, and Michael Foucault as allies... Rather than seeing them primarily as threats or 'defeaters' of the faith, I [explore] the ways that their philosophical critique of modernity was a catalyst for the church to remember what it had forgotten." I love the boldness and audacity of Smith's project.

Smith says that "If there is any clear and present danger in our postmodern world, surely it is 'relativism.'" Relativism, in the words of DA Carson, "is treason against God and his word." Smith, however, pushes back, and believes that there is a type of relativism that can still hold onto truth without maintaining referential realism.

In fact, Smith argues that in the world of certain philosophical relativists, they do maintain "deflationary accounts of truth." In fact, in this world of pragmatism, we can find a "robust philosophy of contingency that is wholly compatible with the Christian doctrine of creation--and even something of a prophetic reminder of the importance of the Creator/creature distinction."

What Smith means by "a prophetic reminder" is that relativism reminds us that "True knowledge depends on God's revelation, and receiving that revelation depends on the regenerating and illuminating power of the Spirit..." Our knowledge and understanding is always dependent on the work of God (which happens in the context of community) and even then are still finite.

Smith urges us to not just be those who hunker down on the project alone, but as those who are made not just for truth, but for truth mediating through community. He says, "The church is the language-game in which we learn to read the world aright."

Smith ends by reminding us that God "has bound himself covenantally to a people; otherwise we could never know him. The incarnation is the Absolute's refusal to remain absolved of relation to humanity." And yet, the very fact that we are human beings means that we are "contingent, dependent, and relative." "Relativism, then, in this more precise sense, is just a name for the human condition."

Smith's book is more technical than some of his other works and at times over my head. And because of his intentionally provocative bent in the book, there at times seems to be an overly charitable read of his interlocutors. But even when I don't fully agree with Smith, he is always helpful and pushes me to a deeper understanding of the world, God, and the church.

[Peter · Rating 4 out of 5]

Read this with a friend. The title makes the book sound like its pressing boundaries, and it is, but not in the way some may expect. If you expect a "liberal" theology, James K. A. Smith actually confesses an anti-liberal (35) conservativism (18).

This is another Smith book trying to get believers out of their heads and into their body--including the body of Christ. Liberalism fails us because of its focus on autonomy and cognition, and that includes some forms of evangelicalism that are just about "me and Jesus" or about possessing "absolute truth." Smith's refrain is that we are creatures, fit and fallible in this world, neither gods nor animals. And that's not a failure: its just being human.

Its a very philosophical book, tracing the thought of some relativists like Richard Rorty, who says, "truth is what your friends let you get away with." Smith agrees. "We do not see just by opening our eyes" (64). Knowledge is cultural, not natural, and arises from our socialization in a community. "What we 'find' is what we have been trained to see" (81). Our knowing is relative--contingent, dependent, conditioned by our context and relationships. All "knowledge" is gift, a debt, dependence on others and their testimony to us.

Which brings us to another Smith theme: the vital necessity of the church. "Church is the language game in which we learn to read the world aright" (72)--through the death and resurrection of Jesus.

Note that this does not mean that "anything goes" or that knowledge, since its not absolute and objective, is arbitrary, or whimsical. No, it gets screened, debated, refined in wider community, and that's why Smith is so insistent on a faith that is Catholic--in touch with the transnational community of Christian believers. We need each other. Our salvation (sanctification) depends on it.

[Santeri Marjokorpi · Rating 4 out of 5]

Smithin kirja herätti paljon ajatuksia ja vakuutti minut uudelle kannalle. Ammentaen pragmatistisesta filosofiasta Smith väittää, että meidän pitäisi hyväksyä kristittyinä postmoderni ajattelu, jossa hylätään totuuden korrespondenssiteoria. Sen sijaan totuus on aina yhteisöllisesti määrittynyttä. Käytäntö määrittää totuuden eikä toisin päin. Tämä ajattelu johtaa lopulta postliberaaliin kristillisyyteen, joka ammentaa traditiosta ja liturgiasta.

Kristinuskoon tullaan liittymällä yhteisöön. Sen vuoksi perinteinen apologia ja evankeliointi on osunut harhaan, koska se on pelannut lähinnä järjen tasolla. Pitäisi kutsua ihmisiä jäseniksi yhteisöön ja elämäntapaan, jota kautta myös opit pikkuhiljaa jäsentyvät, sillä totuus on yhteisöllisesti määräytynyttä. Samasta syystä on virhe muuttaa liturgiaa ja käytäntöjä relevantiksi tähän päivään, koska silloin katoaa se yhteisö ja käytäntö, joka on ihmisille pikkuhiljaa opettanut kristinuskon totuutta ja oppeja.

Seuraava lainaus kuvaa hyvin kirjaa: "Embracing contingency does not entail embracing "liberalism": in fact to the contrary, it is when we deny our contingency when we are thereby licensed to deny our dependence and hence assume the position where we are the arbitrators of truth. We then spurn our dependence on tradition and assume a stance of "objective" knowledge whereby we can dismiss aspects of Scripture and Christian orthodoxy as benighted and unenlightened. In short, it is the denial of dependence that undergirds a progressive agenda. The picture of knowledge bequeathed to us by Enlightenment is a forthright denial of our dependence, and it yields a God-like picture of human reason. It is "objectivity" that is "liberal.""

[Giovanni Generoso · Rating 4 out of 5]

Jamie Smith has taken pragmatist thinkers Wittgenstein, Rorty, and Brandom and found in them helpful perspectives on the contingency of our knowledge. Smith's entire project has been to establish a very basic theological point: human knowledge is provisional such that we are necessarily, by the very nature of our finitude, situated beings who "know" only in community. Our knowledge is not objective, ahistorical, and neutral (contra the linguistic referentialism borne from the Enlightenment). But rather, he thinks, our knowledge is relative (to our traditions), located in a certain time and space, and dependent upon the discursive practices of the communities that shape us.

The theological implications of his thesis are teased out in the last chapter as he introduces the postliberalism trumpeted by George Lindbeck and more recently Stanley Hauerwas (who endorsed the book). Smith wants to embrace human finitude and say that since our knowledge is dependent on our communal practices, the evangelistic process is supposed to be one of bringing persons into the community of the church of God which provides individuals with the hermeneutical lens to taste and see the Lord's goodness (through the sacraments and experiencing of the body of Christ in the material realities present in immanent form). Evangelism and apologetics, then, are not to be primarily demonstrative but more like a way-of-life in which we show others how the people of God think and follow the God who they believe has revealed Himself to them.

I'm sympathetic to Smith's overall thesis. I think he is one of the most helpful Evangelical thinkers in terms of bridging Christianity and postmodern thought in a very accessible, understandable way.

[Robert D. Cornwall · Rating 5 out of 5]

Indeed, who is afraid of relativism? How we answer the question could depend on how we define our terms. Engaging Wittgenstein, Rorty, and Branscom, James K. A. Smith suggests that the best course for contemporary Christians is to recognize the value of the pragmatism of these philosophers. By relativism here, Smith doesn't mean anything goes, but rather that our understanding of reality is contingent/dependent. That is, it is relative. Instead of representationalist -- univocal ideas that insist there are accessible universals, he believes (and I agree) that our understandings are contingent on our contexts. We learn meaning and values in community.

It should not be surprising that he is attracted to the post-liberalism of George Lindbeck and his The Nature of Doctrine: Religion and Theology in a Postliberal Age, who argues that truth is learned in community. Instead of believing in order to belong, we belong in order to believe. Instead of foundationalist apologetics, the faith is caught in community.

Interesting book that reminds us that we can find treasures in philosophies that are not necessarily in direct relationship to Christianity. As Augustine said -- plunder the Egyptians.

[Jacob · Rating 3 out of 5]

Smith offers a fresh analysis of relativism and pragmatism. He argues convincingly that the Christian attacks on “relativism,” while coming from a place of serious and praiseworthy concern, are actually a caricature of what philosophical relativists actually believe. Nobody really believes, deep down, that “anything goes.” Relativism isn’t trying to make that claim. Instead, it is trying to say that what we know to be true is determined in a sense by our community of practice. Therefore, we know the Christian faith to be true in part because we inhabit the community of faith embodied in our local church contexts (read: local embodied communities).

This is the fundamental claim of relativism: that truth is known relative to the place in which we find ourselves. That doesn’t mean that all of reality is totally “subjective.” It means instead that we understand and inhabit the world through our local embodied communities. Smith’s analysis is a thoughtful critique of common worldview and apologetics language that comes out of mainstream Christian publications. While he rejects parts of relativism (he uses Augustine’s “plundering the Egyptians” analogy), he affirms that its basic affirmation is actually the only proper Christian epistemology.

Smith tends to go a bit easy on people like Richard Rorty and tends to be more critical of his fellow Christians than he ought. With that said, this book offers a redemptive reading of relativists that Christians need to take seriously.

[Brandon · Rating 4 out of 5]

Smith argues for a sort of "Christian pragmatist philosophy" that takes our creaturehood more seriously than typical absolutist approaches to knowledge. The front end surveys the work of pragmatist philosophers and helps to establish a more precise understanding of relativism over and against the typical tropes. This survey brings up some issues and asks some questions that those steeped only in modernist philosophy might not be prone to ask. Smith then brings all this to bear on Christian doctrine, mission, and apologetics in the final chapter. He intends this book as a sort of springboard, and this final chapter is not such much a detailed application of pragmatist philosophy as it is about stirring up important questions for ministry leaders.

Beyond the engagement with pragmatist philosophers and helpful takeaways from that work, I think Smith's survey and argument here have important implications for the church's "believing vs. belonging" conversations. As one who grew up in a generation of Christian apologists that focused the church's witness on it's capacity to effectively make absolute truth claims and out-argue our opponents so that will be logically forced to admit those claims, Smith's work here reminded me that it is ultimately the Christian community of practice that will faithfully and most effectively bear witness to the risen Christ in a post-Christian culture.

[Michael Miller · Rating 3 out of 5]

Smith examines Wittgenstein’s Philosophical Investigations, Rorty’s Philosophy and the Mirror of Nature, and Brandom’s Articulating Reasons. His intent is to mine these secular philosophers for insights useful to Christianity much as he did in Who’s Afraid of Postmodernism. That book was engaging and enlightening and persuasive. This one is not.

As with his work on Postmodernism, Smith tries his best to read these secular philosophers in a way most congenial to Christianity (he calls his project “Christian pragmatism”). While he largely succeeds doing this with postmodernism, he doesn’t with relativism (or a very specific subset he terms pragmatism and describes as “postmodernism with an American accent”). Taking Wittgenstein, Rorty and Brandom to church proves a much more daunting task. I applaud his desire to “loot the Egyptians,” and I was truly humbled by his emphasis on our contingency, creaturehood, and relation to our Creator, but in the end it seemed like a lot of work for a payoff that could be attained more easily through other means.

I do recommend this book, but primarily for Smith’s explanation of these three philosopher’s writings. I believe it is important to understand them, but do not feel the need to shoehorn some of their ideas into a Christian worldview.

[Akash Ahuja · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is phenomenal - I’ve been so helped by James KA Smith’s distillation of great works: in this book, Who’s Afraid of Postmodernity, and How (Not) To Be Secular. Just like the others, this book feels like a coffee shop conversation with Smith as he slowly, deliberately unfolds not only contemporary philosophy, but how we got here, and how we can redeem it in a Christian context.

The content is difficult. At times, it is hard to follow and you feel like giving up because a recurring concept hasn’t been explained well enough, or you realize that everything hinges on how a certain word is understood by some far-away philosopher. Fans of Smith know that you have to push through those moments, as he always returns to explain what’s going on. Patience and perseverance is key, and you have to trust that the author wants you to follow along and is trying to help you do that.

I was challenged and inspired by this book, and so grateful for how it landed in a positive and pastoral call to action. I would be tempted to share just the last chapter with people, but it would make little sense without the context of the whole book - Smith carefully and deliberately builds a case for a cultural-linguistic approach that cannot be understood unless you spend time exploring the alternatives with him.

[Reinhardt · Rating 5 out of 5]

Technical background for his Imaging/Desiring the kingdom.

Navigates modern hermeneutical philosophy of the likes of Wittgenstein and Rorty. Navigates between the false choice of anything-goes relativism and representational, absolute realism. Smith builds on Lindbeck's Nature of Doctrine to establish truth resides in the community of the church. The church is the locus of truth in the world, not our rationalisms. There is no way to prove the truth of Christianity. The apologetic goal is to establish the Christian faith as a plausible explanation of the lived experience. Once this is established, Christianity plays on a level playing field with other construals of the world (not everything is a legitimate construal). The final step of accepting the truth of Christian faith can only happen in the community of Christian practice. This highlights the urgent necessity of faithful "thick" Christian communities.

A good read if you don't mind some philosophical technicality. I would suggest reading his Desiring the Kingdom and Imagining the Kingdom first as well as Charles Taylor's excellent little book Social Imaginarys.

[Joel Wentz · Rating 4 out of 5]

I remain so thankful for Jamie Smith's voice amidst the cacophony of would-be apologists and Christian philosophers decrying the descent of society into "relativism." Smith isn't having it, and actually offers an incisive critique of the "absolute truth" claims made by many Christians today in response. Smith is remarkably thoughtful and positive, which is sorely needed in these types of conversations.

Also, as a summary of current thinkers like Wittgenstein and Rorty, you can't go wrong here. Smith manages to pack a ton of overview into a small package, and smartly uses movies to illustrate the core themes. While he stays pretty accessible, the reader should know that it gets dense at times. This is heady stuff, and I think Smith did the best he could, but if you aren't familiar with philosophical jargon, you may get overwhelmed.

If you, like me, are weary of the ways so-called evangelists and apologists respond to what they label "the evils of relativism," then you owe it to yourself to grab this volume (and the accompanying, "Who's Afraid of Postmodernism?"). Highly recommended.

[John · Rating 5 out of 5]

For a thin volume (182 pages) it took me about a year to read this book. I really cherished Smith's work within this volume to find a way to intelligently and reasonably articulate the doing I've been up to the past 10 years (if you read the book you'll understand the contingency of that sentence and its relationship to the work). Not only did Smith articulate but also set out a course for many of us that are maintaining a deep devotion to the Creator we've always loved while embracing an honest disclosure of some of the intellectual and active problems of a religious tradition we must take the knee towards so to speak. What's even more beautiful is that Smith has created a theology of creaturehood and community that is just beautiful to behold. The work also sharpened my blunted philosophy by working with some grand concepts and philosophers and then introduced me to many new works as well. Which is why it took me a year to read this... I ordered about 5-6 of the books mentioned in here (Rorty and Linebeck for example) and read those before going further in here. Truly, wonderful work in an indispensable series of books.

[Ted · Rating 4 out of 5]

I'm a big fan of Richard Rorty (covered pretty extensively here), so a friend (Nick - thanks Nick!) gave me this as a gift after we saw Smith give a talk in Seattle. (The talk was really good, and Smith hit on Rorty, David Foster Wallace, and a number of other things I personally find deeply interesting, even if I wasn't as engaged in the religious aspects of the talk.)

Even as someone who's not too religious, it was interesting to see how Smith manages to tie a lot of pragmatist thought into traditional Christian thinking. I enjoyed seeing this reconciliation, as I have found pragmatism to be a very convincing philosophy myself for the past few years. I ended up skimming some of the deeper religious philosophy parts though - some of it was a bit beyond my extremely limited religious background, and was just of less interest to me anyway.

Overall though, Smith's writing is pretty easy to read and relatively concise. I really he would use fewer italics to highlight different terms/phrases in quoted passages though - this started to unnerve me to no end.

[Élizabeth · Rating 5 out of 5]

Beaucoup plus difficile à bien suivre que son grand frère, Who’s afraid of Postmodernism?, mais très enrichissant (surtout son dernier chapitre qui fait le lien avec You Are What You Love) et très utile pour mon projet de recherche.

J’ai vraiment eu l’impression de mieux comprendre les positions d’un Lindbeck ou d’un Milbank (que j’ai déjà étudié brièvement par le passé) mais en voyageant dans les confins des implications épistémologiques de leur pensée en passant par quelques philosophes pragmatistes hautement controversés dans les milieux chrétiens.

[Will · Rating 4 out of 5]

As always - I'm very glad that Smith is bridging the gap between "postmodern," "modern," and even "post-liberal" thinking. Loved the treatment of Wittengenstein and Brandom. I think many pastors should at least read the introduction, especially if "relativism" makes them squeamish. Thought the application was light and a little bit rushed, which is where I dock the star. Very good and entertaining book.

[Jon Beadle · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was not an easy read. But I found myself sick and able to spend quite a while reading through its complex journey from Wittgenstein to Linbeck. Jamie is one of the best at articulating others views and then offering his rejoinder or additions. He is bold enough to believe that all truth is God’s truth. In this book, the pragmatist tradition is mined for its truthfulness. Does he land it? Not every time, but the chapters on Wittgenstein and Linbeck are worth the book.

[Jonathan · Rating 4 out of 5]

An accessible and productive journey into the postmodern epistemology of relativism as well as a sharp eyed glance at modernist methods of claiming, knowing and establishing 'truth'. Smith writes so his reader needs little to no previous reading to understand the philosophers and ideas and to benefit from their work in forming a truly Christian account of truth, finitude, and humility in postmodern world.

[Deb · Rating 4 out of 5]

In depth book; may hard for the average reader to grasp all information. May re-read this book again . Good for Ministry related professions. Or anyone in the Reformed or Christian Reformed Church.