What's Wittgenstein got to do with The Virgin Birth?

Most, except for a rate breed of philosophers, are not familiar with the name Ludwig Wittgenstein, yet his truistic axioms are priceless in understanding the logical process inherent in language. He went so far as to say, “The limits of my language means the limits of my world.” For him the grammar of language provided the metaphysical harmony between thought and reality. Logic, however, was the necessary connection between the two, which he felt would takes care of itself once we properly understood what was being said.

My take on Wittgenstein is that although he did not deny reality, he found it so elusive that it was best to restrict the concept of meaning to language. Thus, he could say, “Today is a rainy day,” and be perfectly logical within the confines of language even though if we were to look outside and there was in fact no rain at all. Language was therefore to him a kind of logical or in some cases an illogical process. Reality had nothing to do with the facts of language; any imagination was good enough, even if it were proven to be just another fairy tale.

Separating language from the facts of reality was unnecessary since the reality of language will provided its own reason which may or may not correspond to a perceived ontology. This approach, however, begs the question of why for instance, we say, “This particular mushroom is poisonous. Don’t eat it, or you will die.” To which Wittgenstein would most probably reply, “That is your problem to figure out, as far as I am concerned it is a true statement based on the process of language, whether or not the statement corresponds to an objective ontology.”

This truism is absolute when confined to the parameters of language; however, when language attempts to point to an objective reality beyond itself, then the value inherent in the use of words becomes critical if in fact they are referencing something that does not coincide with an ontic reality.

Take the matter of revelation, as in theology, what if, in fact, the perceived ontology does not in fact exist, but if believed will suit the logic of language? Thus, the concept of the virgin birth, for instance, may or may not be true, but if believed is perfectly logical within the confines of a descriptive paradigm. As a matter of fact, any paradigm will do as long as it meets the demands of the logic of language. Otherwise, we could never have fairy tales, if in fact, fairies had to exist outside the confines of language. Now, we may or may not believe a fairy tale; however, than in no way effects the reality of the story within the confines of language.

Thus, in a sense, religion must go beyond language to make ultimate sense and stay true to its claims as an objective ontology. So, the question remains, do we communicate beyond the use of language? The answer is yes. Our sensitivities are real and expressed (as an example) through tactile experiences—that is to say, for instance, we do not need a word for hot to sense it. Heat is therefore real outside the confines of language.

Now, when the Psalmist invites us to “taste and see that the Lord is good, and His mercies endure forever (Psalm 100:5)” language is unnecessary for the experience, because even the deaf can enjoy the experience. God does not limit his communication to language alone but includes experience both personal and historical to convey his message of hope to us. John, I believed was well aware of that when he said, “We proclaim to you what we have seen and heard, so that you also may have fellowship with us (1 John 1:3 NIV).” Peter also was eager to share with the Temple officials, either: “As for us, we cannot help speaking about what we have seen and heard (Acts 4:20)." he said. Also, as with the case of the conversion of Cornelius, Peter was convinced of the genuineness of the incident not because words he necessarily understood but by the very fact that he heard (Acts 10:23-48).

Similarly, It is not without purpose that when the Holy Spirit was ushered in on the Day of Pentecost that there was a sound of a mighty rushing wind (Acts 2:2). Nor was it not without significance that at Jesus’ baptism the Holy Spirit descended upon Him like a dove. First the experience, then the voice seems to be a common Scriptural phenomenon. Moses saw the bush burning, then heard the voice.

Therefore for anyone to divorce experience from an affirming doctrine is certainly not of the integrity of Scripture, nor can it be in the past and/or the current theological praxis. God, as it were, leaves no stone unturned. He speaks in indelible ways: through experience, with reason, and through Scripture and Church Tradition to affirm His message. Theologians, therefore, only speak to us as affirming surrogates, never as God. This is amply attested to by Scripture because “… we know [that] first of all, that no prophecy of Scripture is a matter of one's own interpretation, for no prophecy was ever made by an act of human will, but men moved by the Holy Spirit spoke from God.”

The exception of course is of whom it is said,

“On hearing his words, some of the people said, ‘Surely, this man is the Prophet.’ Others said, ‘He is the Messiah.’ Still others asked, ‘How can the Messiah come from Galilee? Does not Scripture say that the Messiah will come from David’s descendants and from Bethlehem, the town where David lived?’ Thus the people were divided because of Jesus. Some wanted to seize him, but no one laid a hand on him. Finally the temple guards went back to the chief priests and the Pharisees, who asked them, ‘Why didn’t you bring him in?’ ‘No one ever spoke the way this man does,’ the guards replied.” (John 7:40-46 NIV)

Why is this? Well, could it be simply because His words are spirit and they are life (John 6:63)?” I think so.