Michael Polanyi regarded his contribution to the theory of
knowledge as “primarily an enquiry into the nature and
justification of scientific knowledge.”1 Nevertheless, he was aware
that what he established in this area “leads on to a wide range of
questions outside science.”2 This was not merely a possibility
which he acknowledged, but an insight into the nature of his
epistemology which he pursued in many directions and with a
passion. Polanyi’s extra-scientific concerns drew him in many
directions. He wrote about politics and economics, about myth
and art, about psychology and metaphor, to name but a few. He
also wrote about theology and worship; and it is with these themes
that I am principally concerned in this article.
Polanyi’s comments on theology and worship represent,
undoubtedly, a flawed engagement with the disciplines which take
up these subjects as their theme. It is known that Polanyi attended
services of Christian worship during periods of his life, but he had
no formal training in theology or liturgy. There are insights to be
found in Polanyi’s explicit writings in this area, but in order to
discern them one must look beyond their obvious limitations and
also have some grasp of the epistemological concerns which fund
his engagement with theology.
In pursuit of these insights I will offer an exposition of one of
the central aspects of Polanyi’s theory of knowledge: his concept
of indwelling (and the concomitant concept of articulate systems),
followed by an account of how Polanyi applies this to
theology and worship. In the second part of the essay, I will offer
some critical but substantially constructive comments on Polanyi’s
ideas in order to show some of the ways in which they represent
a valuable resource for theologians. I will conclude with some
provisional thoughts on the broader ramifications of Polanyi’s
oeuvre for theology.
By the time Polanyi had turned his attention to philosophy, and
the explication and justification of scientific knowledge in particular,
he had established an international reputation for research in
physical chemistry. It was as a respected practitioner of science
that Polanyi spoke, in philosophical terms, of the nature and
justification of science. He knew the life of science from within,
and it was out of this knowledge that his distinctive theory of
knowledge came to expression.3 In lieu of a systematic treatment
of Polanyi’s theory of knowledge, which is beyond the scope of this
essay, I will focus upon just one aspect of his epistemology:
“indwelling” and the concomitant concept of the “articulate
system.” The meaning of these terms will become clear as I
proceed to expound what is undoubtedly a crucial aspect of
Polanyi’s work.
Polanyi asserts that, while science is associated with a vast
body of explicit knowledge (documented in scientific journals,
papers, symposia, texts, etc.), scientific knowledge is not exhausted
by such explicit representations. Indeed, Polanyi describes
this explicit body of knowledge, vast as it is, as a “highly
attenuated summary”4 of what is actually known in science. Such
a claim may seem puzzling, but Polanyi’s reasons for making it,
while substantially overlooked, are not obscure.
Science is established, grows, and is transmitted within the
context of a community of skilled practitioners. To be recognized
as a scientist one must serve one’s apprenticeship. It is through
the years of undergraduate, postgraduate, and postdoctoral studies
that one gradually acquires the skills of the “trade.” During this
period of training students master a large body of explicit knowledge
in their respective chosen scientific disciplines and, in
particular, within their specialized fields of research. This “tooling-up” is the indispensable preparation for a career in science.
However, the task of the research scientist is not merely to repeat
what he or she has learned5 but to utilize that training in the
pursuit of scientific discovery.
One might say, without fear of contradiction, that any discovery
will be facilitated by the scientist’s wealth of scientific knowledge.
But to say this is not to explain a scientific discovery. The
question is, How will that knowledge lead to a discovery? Before
the event, a full answer to that question is not possible.6 A scientist
must possess intimations of a discovery, even in the formulation
of a problem. Such expectant anticipations sustain the researcher
in the demanding work typically involved in making a breakthrough.
One might speak of a scientist’s “foreknowledge” in this
regard, but the nature of the process of discovery, which will span
a problem’s formulation and its resolution, remains partially
indeterminate until a breakthrough is made. The scientist’s “anticipations”
of a discovery are clearly crucial in sustaining and
directing a research program toward a successful resolution,7 but
such “foreknowledge” is not a form of knowledge that can be fully
articulated.
The issue of incipient discovery is the quintessential case of
scientific knowledge which cannot be rendered fully explicit, but
there are many others. To be a scientist one must “live the life of
science.” A scientist must come to appreciate the values of
science, and the ways in which those values are honored within the
scientific community. A scientist must also develop an impression
of the scope of the scientific problems which exist within their
field and a sense of the scale of difficulty associated with any
specific scientific problem. To maintain a place in the research
community, a scientist must be able to identify problems which
are regarded by the community as scientifically important but
which will not outface the one who confronts them. In other
words, a scientist must be able to venture a sober estimate of
whether his or her own skills and imaginative capacities are a
match for an envisaged undertaking.
In these aspects of science, as with the indeterminate processes
which lead to discovery, it is evident that, while it may be
possible to say something—and important things—about the
knowledge which pertains to them, much of this knowledge is what
Polanyi calls “tacit”: it is more than we can tell. Such tacit
knowledge is gained from participation within the community of
scientific inquiry and is a product of the processes of education,
socialization, and enculturation implied in such participation.
Polanyi seeks to substantiate his claims about the tacit element
of science by pointing to the difficulties which have been
experienced in establishing new scientific communities in areas
where there has been no established scientific tradition. He notes
that “[r]arely, if ever, was the final acclimatization of science
outside Europe achieved, until the government of a country
succeeded in including a few scientists from some traditional
centre to settle down in their territory and to develop there a new
home for scientific life, moulded on their own traditional standards.”
8 If “science” is a self-contained body of explicit knowledge,
this phenomenon would be difficult to explain; but if, as
Polanyi claims, a substantial part of scientific knowledge is tacit,
the difficulty of transmission can be readily understood.
Tacit knowledge, embedded as it is in communities of practices
and the skills of those who inhabit them, can be transmitted
only through participation (apprenticeship) within such communities.
The body of explicit scientific knowledge cannot be abstracted
from the life, beliefs, traditions, mores, and values of the
community which sustains it (and out of which the body of explicit
knowledge emerged) without divesting it of its comprehensibility
and its meaning.9
Polanyi refers to this participative knowledge as indwelt
knowledge. This is not peculiar to science. Indeed, the concept of
indwelling is a broad one and occupies a key position in Polanyi’s
general epistemology. Indwelt knowledge is knowledge which we
have assimilated in such a way that we do not ordinarily think
about it, but with it. So, for example, when we are experienced in
using a mouse in operating a computer, we do not pay attention
to the plastic object in the palm of our hand, but to the effect of
our manipulation of it on the computer screen. Perhaps the most
crucial example of indwelt knowledge concerns our own bodies.
In most of our waking experiences we are using our bodies to
perceive things around us. We do not pay attention to the ways in
which we are doing this—for example, the movement of our eyes
and the mechanics of focusing—but rather to the knowledge
which accrues to us on the basis of such usage. We have become
highly skilled in using our bodies in such ways at an early age, and
have little cause to question our own competence in this regard.
We attend with our bodies and are able to do so because we
indwell them.
Polanyi develops the theme of scientific “indwelling” through his
concept of “articulate systems.” The term is unfortunate because
Polanyi does not mean by it “systems which can be articulated,”
as one might surmise.10 The term is also awkward because of the
vast diversity of items which he attaches to it. The list includes
science11 (and relates to the ideas I have just expounded), as well
as an intriguing mix of other items including, for example, a
theory,12 works of art,13 a mathematical discovery,14 morality,15 a
symphony16 and, as we shall see, religious worship.17
The function of this term in Polanyi’s epistemology is part of
the way he distinguishes between two quite distinct ways of
knowing. It is meaningful to say that we have “knowledge of” those
things that Polanyi identifies as articulate systems: we can state a
theory, recognize a work of art, articulate a moral principle, etc.
This is the first way of knowing. However, there is another way of
knowing to which Polanyi attaches the term “indwelling.” Because
we know the theory, it becomes part of our way of perceiving that
to which the theory pertains, and it may facilitate our ability to
develop further theories. Our knowledge of a work of art can
impact the way in which we look at the world around us, and our
knowledge of a moral principle can transform the way in which we
understand our place in the world, our relationships and our
responsibilities. This is the second way of knowing.
The distinction between the two ways may be explicated as
follows: in the first, we focus upon the item; in the second, we
focus with or through it. Consider how this analysis might be
applied to eyeglasses. We can look at a pair of spectacles, perhaps
to inspect the lenses for dust; or we can look through them. In the
latter case the eyeglasses function as an articulate system in that
we “indwell” them.18 We see by looking through them. And in
looking through the spectacles, we forego the facility to look at
them; we entrust ourselves to the vision they facilitate.
While we may analyze or evaluate an articulate system, its
primary function is to enhance the way in which we perceive and
comprehend the world, or some aspect of it.19 Hence to conceive
of an articulate system merely as a body of explicit data is to miss
its fundamental function. Polanyi tells us that articulate systems
are “the happy dwelling places of the human mind.”20
Polanyi’s desire and willingness to engage with religion—and
Christian theology in particular—is evidenced in Personal Knowledge.
In this book, which is regarded as his magnum opus, there
are two substantial passages which are essentially “theological.”21
I will refer to both in the exposition which follows.
Polanyi writes, “Religion, considered as an act of worship, is
an indwelling rather than an affirmation.”22 He goes on to say that
“God cannot be observed, any more than truth or beauty can be
observed. He exists in the sense that He is to be worshipped and
obeyed, but not otherwise; not as a fact—any more than truth,
beauty or justice exist as facts. All these, like God, are things which
can be apprehended only in serving them.”23 Although there is an
inscrutability about this sentence, what is clear is that Polanyi
conceives Christian worship as an articulate system. The primary
concern of worship is not the “facts” or “assertions” contained
within it, but the “heuristic vision” which worship confers upon
those who indwell or participate in its various forms. Polanyi
makes his point acutely when he asserts that
religious worship can say nothing that is true or false. Words of
prayer are addressed to God, and while other parts of the service
speak of God, they are mostly declarations of interpersonal
relations—such as the praise of God. Some parts of worship, like
the credo, admittedly make theological assertions, and the
lessons from the Bible are couched in plainly narrative language.
But the accent of the credo lies on the words: ‘I believe’ which
emotionally endorse worship, while the extracts from the Bible
are not quoted in the course of a Christian religious service in
order to convey information, but as starting points for teachings
that sustain the faith. All such statements function as subsidiaries
to worship.24
For Polanyi the meaning of worship cannot be conceived in
terms of creedal statements or doctrinal propositions. Worship is
the search for God facilitated by the worshippers’ indwelling of
the components of the worship service. The religious service25 is,
“a framework of clues which are apt to induce a passionate search
for God.”26
For the religious worshipper the components of the service of
worship parallel the theoretical, experimental knowledge, etc.,
which the scientist indwells in seeking to address a new problem.
The worshipper indwells the elements which comprise a service of
Christian worship as the means for seeking God. “The words of
prayer and confession, the actions of the ritual, the lesson, the
sermon, the church itself, are the clues of the worshipper’s
striving towards God. They guide his feelings of contrition and
gratitude and his craving for the divine presence, while keeping
him safe from distracting thoughts.”27
Polanyi knew that the pursuit of scientific discovery does not
always meet with success. Nevertheless, discoveries are made and
eventually such discoveries, once they are embraced by the
scientific community, are assimilated into the corpus of scientific
knowledge and become part of the body of knowledge scientists
indwell and through which new problems are conceived and new
discoveries sought. It is here that Polanyi discerns a significant
distinction between science and religion.28 For Polanyi the experience
of the Christian is unique: “the dwelling of the Christian
worshipper within the ritual of divine service differs from any
other dwelling within a framework of inherent excellence, by the
fact that this dwelling is not enjoyed.”29 He goes on to explain: “By
these ritual acts the worshipper accepts the obligation to achieve
what he knows to be beyond his own unaided powers and strives
towards it in the hope of a merciful visitation from above. The
ritual of worship is expressly designed to induce and sustain this
state of anguish, surrender and hope.”30 This tension is irresolvable
because “[t]he moment a man were to claim that he had arrived
and could now happily contemplate his own perfection, he would
be thrown back into spiritual emptiness.”31 The Christian “inquiry”—
the search for God—represents “an eternal, never to be
consummated hunch: a heuristic vision which is accepted for the
sake of its unresolvable tension.”32
So, Christian worship is an articulate system that the worshipper
comes to indwell. But what justification might people offer for
trusting themselves to this articulate system? Why attend a
Christian service (or, indeed, that of any other religious tradition)?
Polanyi is aware that such a decision “may appear merely
subjective”33 and admits that “[i]t cannot be fully defended . . .
against this suspicion.”34 Worship is a heuristic vision and stands
alongside the great intellectual systems such as mathematics,
fiction, and the fine arts. We do not say that they are “true” but
we entrust ourselves to them (or withhold our trust) with a greater
or lesser degree of confidence. There can be no absolute justification
for such a decision.
It must be recalled that, for Polanyi, something broadly
parallel must be said of a commitment to the scientific community.
35 The scientist must operate within the scientific community
with its beliefs, practices, conventions, values, authority structures,
etc. But no scientist could offer a scientific justification for
the trust they place in the scientific community.36 Nevertheless,
scientists demonstrate their positive personal evaluation of both
the integrity and fecundity of the life and work of the scientific
community—and their substantial submission to its authority—
by their participation within it or, to borrow Polanyi’s phrase, by
their embracing it as “a happy dwelling place of the human mind.”
Although both “science” and “worship” are articulate systems,
Polanyi distinguishes between them. He writes, “The acceptance
of different kinds of articulate systems as mental dwelling
places is arrived at by a process of gradual appreciation, and all
these acceptances depend to some extent on the content of
relevant experiences.”37 The distinction is to be found in the fact
that “the bearing of natural science on facts of experience is much
more specific than that of mathematics, religion or the various
arts.”38 Polanyi acknowledges this distinction in speaking, on the
one hand, of the “verification” of science by experience and, on
the other hand, of the “validation” of other articulate systems.
“Our personal participation is in general greater in a validation
than in a verification. The emotional coefficient of assertion is
intensified as we pass from the sciences to the neighbouring
domains of thought.”39 But Polanyi is emphatically not reverting
to a positivist position with its fact/value dichotomy. His point is
not that science is an objective, value-free activity dealing with
impersonal data in contradistinction to other systems, which are
value-laden and subjective.40 This is clear from his comment that
“both verification and validation are everywhere an acknowledgement
of a commitment.”41
Polanyi differentiates the ways of knowing associated with
science and other systems, but he firmly resists any position which
would suggest that these ways are fundamentally discontinuous.42
The life of science and the life of religious commitment are both
indwellings of articulate systems. The knowledge associated with
the respective indwellings is ineffable in the sense that it transcends
the forms of articulate expression associated with them.
One of the reasons Polanyi developed his epistemology was to
confront the flourishing positivistic approaches to the philosophy
of science. In engaging this task Polanyi’s knowledge of science
was an obvious strength. The philosopher Marjorie Grene says of
Polanyi that he
came to the problem, raised it and grappled with it from within
the life of science. It was knowledge in the concrete context of
existence, the existence of science and scientists, that he was
concerned to vindicate. What resulted was often obscure, sometimes
mistaken, and couched in a rhetoric that most professional
philosophers find hard to tolerate; but it was a philosophy rooted
in reality, neither the clever gymnastics of analysis, nor the
prophylactic debate of a philosophy of science based on a grave
misconception of, and almost entirely out of contact with its
alleged subject matter.43
This grounding in science was also the strength of his constructive
proposals, especially in his account of scientific discovery.
But, as I mentioned at the outset, Polanyi was aware that his
findings had implications beyond science which he clearly felt
compelled to explore. The difficulty is that he was inadequately
grounded in some of the fields into which he ventured. Grene
suggests that this is reflected in his engagement with philosophy,
but it is all the more clear in what he writes in regard to theology.
In evaluating the theological aspect of his writings, it is not
really appropriate to apply the criteria that one would apply to a
scholar within the field because Polanyi was not such. As I attempt
to evaluate his work, I want to address two problems which might
distract from perceiving his creative insights. The first suggests a
problem of inconsistency; the second relates to his methodology.
First, let us consider the problem of inconsistency. Polanyi’s
concept of indwelling, and its elaboration in his articulate systems,
represents a crucial component of his theory of knowledge.
44 But the way in which he applies this in his writing on
theological themes is not consistent with the way in which he
applies it in science. The scientist’s indwelling of the life of science
provides the resources through which new discoveries may be
made. When new discoveries are made and acknowledged within
the scientific community, they become integrated into the “scientific
canon” and become part of the way in which scientists
subsequently seek to resolve new problems. This is the dynamic
of the expanding heuristic vision of science. For example, the
discovery of the heliocentricity of the solar system, once integrated
into Kepler’s attempts to understand planetary motion,
became one of the clues which led him to new discoveries relating
to the elliptical nature of the movement of the planets. Kepler
sought to understand the nature of planetary motion on the basis
of his heliocentric convictions (a tacit assumption of his research
program). Although he did not focus upon the theory of
heliocentricity, he clearly believed that it was true.
However, in Polanyi’s discussion of worship (as an articulate
system), the situation is quite different. As I have noted, Polanyi
claims that “religious worship can say nothing that is true or
false.”45 In this claim he includes, for example, the affirmations of
the creed and the narratives of the Bible. These things, along with
prayer, praise, etc., have nothing to do with truth and falsity, he
asserts, because they comprise the subsidiaries of worship which
is our search for God.
Polanyi appears to assume that because the worshipper seeks
fellowship with God through these things (via the heuristic vision
which they collectively provide) they say nothing that is true (or
false). This contrasts starkly with his understanding of the nature
of subsidiaries in a heuristic vision in science. This distinction,
which Polanyi asserts without explanation, represents an inconsistency
which detracts from his account of Christian worship.
Second, let us consider his methodology. The scientist’s
pursuit of scientific discovery through his indwelling of the
articulate system of science is, according to Polanyi, one example
(and a very important example) of a fundamental human desire
(shared with all intelligent animals) to solve problems and puzzles.
In pursuit of a solution to a problem, the scientist experiences
tension, then release, relief, and satisfaction when a discovery is
made. Religious worship, according to Polanyi, is a further
example of this desire, but it is unique in that it is “not enjoyed.”46
As I noted above, Christian worship, as a “search for God” is, for
Polanyi, “an eternal, never to be consummated hunch: a heuristic
vision which is accepted for the sake of its unresolvable tension.”47
Indeed, he claims that worship is designed to sustain a state of
anguish.48 As an articulate system, worship serves to sustain this
insoluble tension.
It would be possible to challenge Polanyi at a theological level
by suggesting that, in the absence of any reference to the forgiveness
and peace of God, and the comfort of the Spirit (themes
typically acknowledged in the liturgy and other elements of
Christian worship), his understanding of worship is not well
balanced and inclines toward stoicism. However, this is not
primarily my concern. The point that I want to emphasize here is
strictly methodological.
I have noted that one of the profound strengths of Polanyi’s
epistemology, as an explication and justification of scientific
knowledge, is that it is born out of a deep knowledge of scientific
practice. To put it another way, his method is strongly a posteriori.
What emerges from his discussion of theology and worship is very
different. Polanyi does not do justice to Christian worship and
demonstrates little familiarity with either historical or contemporary
theological ideas relating to the territory upon which he
trespasses. His description of worship as “an eternal, never to be
consummated hunch”49 smacks of the imposition of an a priori
scheme, derived from his work in scientific epistemology, upon
the phenomenon of worship. As such this is a methodological
reversal of the approach which he adopts in his treatment of
science. The attendant weaknesses are not difficult to identify.
Notwithstanding these and other shortcomings in Polanyi’s writings
on the theme of worship and theology, he offers valuable
insights into Christian theology and the study of religion in
general. The heart of this contribution is to be found in his
understanding of indwelling, articulate systems, and his distinction
between the two ways of knowing.
Polanyi claims that worship, as an articulate system, is one of
“the happy dwelling places of the human mind.”50 I would
transpose this phrase into “the happy dwelling places of the
human person,” as it is embodied persons who indwell the
articulate system of worship and not just “minds,” but I will not
pursue this point here. I have criticized Polanyi for claiming that
“religious worship can say nothing that is true or false,”51 but his
insight—and I think it is a profound insight—is that the elements
of worship (readings from the Bible, prayers, confession, creedal
affirmation, and other parts of the liturgy) are not the primary
focus of those who gather for worship but the means by which the
worshippers seek to focus upon God. As such Polanyi may be close
to the mark in claiming that even while “parts of the service speak
of God, they are mostly declarations of interpersonal relations.”52
Consider a service of worship in which a formal liturgy is
used. The worshippers are not primarily concerned with the form
and content of the liturgy; they use the words of the liturgy to
worship God. The liturgy is functionally self-effacing. It exhorts
the worshippers to turn to God, and that turning is manifestly
embodied in the prayers addressed to God. The liturgy does not
invite the worshipper to evaluate the merits of its own form,53but
to use it in the worship of God. The worshipper looks not at but
from the liturgy.
All services of worship have a form, regardless of whether
they employ a formal liturgy. It is necessary for a worshipper to
gain familiarity with this form in order to fully indwell it, and until
this process of familiarization is complete a worshipper’s attention
will be distracted from worship to the form of the service.
The introduction of a new liturgy invariably causes dissatisfaction
among worshippers. This may be, in part, because of theological
or aesthetic concerns, but the key issue, whether or not it is
recognized as such, is typically one of unfamiliarity. One simply
has to learn a new liturgy, and until this process is complete the
liturgy will be a distraction from the business of worship. We look
from the liturgy to God, but we can do this only when we indwell
the liturgy. The liturgy is an articulate system.
While this may be true of the liturgy, isn’t the purpose of
reading the Bible in church to establish the meaning of a text?
Again, Polanyi is not without justification in saying that “extracts
from the Bible are not quoted in the course of a Christian religious
service in order to convey information, but as starting points for
teachings that sustain the faith.”54 Contrary to Polanyi, I do not
see the “conveying of information” and the “sustaining of faith” as
oppositional. Nevertheless, in the context of worship, the principal
emphasis of the Bible reading (and the sermon, or homily,
which may follow it) is upon the sustaining of faith. Indeed, in the
context of a liturgical service, the congregation may be exhorted
to “Listen for the Word of God” (or something similar) as a
preliminary to a reading from the scriptures.
As Polanyi points out, the worshipper’s engagement with God
through a service of worship involves all the various elements of that
service. Polanyi’s distinctive insight here is that what is known in and
through the service of worship ought properly to be conceived
relationally as an engagement of the worshippers with their God. It
is a “vision of God.” One may be able to express something of an
experience of worship, but ultimately it is a reality which cannot be
reduced to the totality of its cognitively rendered, component
liturgical parts. Nor will it be possible to offer a full account of
how the elements of the service contribute to that reality.
The worshippers do not focus upon the components of the
worship service but with them. This implies that they entrust
themselves to the forms of worship in which they participate. This
is the nature of dwelling within an articulate system. As the
student scientist entrusts himself or herself to the nurture and life
of the scientific community, with its beliefs, teachings and practices,
so the Christian entrusts himself or herself to the nurture
and life of the Christian community (the church), with its beliefs,
teachings, and practices. The worship service is an important
aspect of the church’s life, and in addressing this as a theological
theme Polanyi makes an important theological point.
These considerations suggest that a form of worship must,
through the integrity, authenticity, and richness of its content,
commend itself to the community of worshippers as a trusted
vehicle for worship.55 As they entrust themselves to it, the service
conditions, to some degree, the worshippers’ approach to God.
But this will happen only if the worshippers feel that their trust is
warranted. Of course, no absolute justification for such trust can
be presented, but neither can a scientist offer an absolute justification
for the trust he or she places in the articulate system which
is science.
Despite its failings, Polanyi’s treatment of worship contains
distinctive insights that are worthy of the attention of the theologian.
56 I have only hinted at some of the ways in which these might
be developed. It is intriguing that, even in an area where he was
substantially unschooled, Polanyi was able make a creative contribution
on the basis of his broader epistemological insights.
Nevertheless, Polanyi’s greatest contribution to theology is
not to be found either in his comments on worship or in the other
things he says on the themes of theology and religion. Rather it is
to be found in the epistemological tools which he has made
available to theologians. It is noteworthy that, while Polanyi’s
writings deal primarily with a philosophy of science and a theory
of knowledge, one finds his work cited far more frequently by
theologians than by philosophers.57 The fecund possibilities of
Polanyi’s ideas for theology have already been acknowledged in
part, but there remains considerable potential for further theological
development.
The heart of this potential resides in the fact that what Polanyi
says of the service of worship, or liturgy, may be expanded to
encompass the many and diverse aspects of the church’s life. For
Polanyi the life of the church, like the life of science, comprises
many communities of believers who engage in a variety of
practices (of which communal worship is only one). What the
church and individual believers can claim to know—their knowledge
of God, or their religious knowledge, more generally—
arises, substantially, out of these practices.
One of the underexplored strengths of this insight is its
potential to deliver the church from a Cartesianism that would
simply identify the knowledge of God with what can be expressed
in doctrinal statements and theological discourse. Polanyi’s comment
that the body of articulate scientific knowledge is a “highly
attenuated summary”58 of what is actually known in science is
paralleled in the relationship between theological formulations
and what is actually known of God in the life of the church. This
is not to demean theological expression but to recognize that
theological expression is inevitably partial—a distillation of what
is known within the community of faith.
Polanyi’s insights are, in part, reflected in the phrase lex
orandi, lex credendi (the law of prayer is the law of belief); but his
ideas go far beyond this. In his distinction between the two ways
of knowing (knowing that and knowing from), in his understanding
of indwelt knowledge and of articulate systems, Polanyi offers
rich resources for future theological development.
Tony Clark
Friends University
NOTES
- Polanyi, Personal Knowledge: Towards a Post-Critical Philosophy
(London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1958), vii. - Ibid., vii.
- One of Polanyi’s deep concerns about the philosophy of
science was that it was profoundly out of touch with and detached
from scientific practice. - Polanyi, Personal Knowledge, 171.
- There is, of course, a place for this in the teaching of
science. - If the precise relationship between existing knowledge and
a new discovery was known it would not, strictly speaking, be a
discovery because discovery implies new knowledge. - There is no guarantee that a discovery will be made. Some
projects end in an impasse. There are many reasons why a project
might fail, and a scientist may well not know why a solution to a
problem has not been found. - Polanyi, Personal Knowledge, 182.
- As with the playing of a sport, typically there will be explicit
rules to guide those who are participants. While such rules are
meaningful to those who have a basic understanding of the sport,
they will be of little or no help to a person who has never witnessed
the playing of the sport and knows nothing of it. - At least, they cannot be fully articulated.
- Polanyi, Personal Knowledge, 203.
- Ibid., 195.
- Ibid., 286.
- Ibid.
- Ibid.
- Ibid., 195.
- Ibid., 286.
- The terminology is awkward, but its significance is clear.
- Our dwelling within an articulate system may distort our
view of the world, and the trust we place in it may be revealed as
rash and ill-conceived. - Polanyi, Personal Knowledge, 280.
- See ibid., 195–202 and 279–286. Both passages have a
theological flavor in that Polanyi explores within them the significance
of his own epistemological insights in the realm of religion.
It is evident that Polanyi has the Christian faith in mind in much
of what he writes although his intentions are somewhat imprecise.
One of the difficulties of handling the religious aspect of Polanyi’s
writings is that it is often less than clear whether Polanyi’s
reference to elements of Christian practice implies that he is
consciously engaging with Christian theology and practice or
whether he just happens to be referring to the particulars of
Christian religion (perhaps because he had some familiarity with
them) in order to make a generic point about religious knowledge.
This is a genuine weakness in Polanyi’s contribution in this area,
although it is not a factor which bulks large in the present
discussion. - Ibid., 279.
- Ibid.
- Ibid., 281 Polanyi’s emphasis.
- Presumably Polanyi is referring to congregational worship.
- Polanyi, Personal Knowledge, 282
- Ibid., 281. It is arguable whether all the elements of a
church service are always effective in keeping the worshipper safe
from distracting thoughts! - Here Polanyi has the Christian worshipper in mind.
- Polanyi, Personal Knowledge, 198.
- Ibid., 198.
- Ibid.
- Ibid., 199.
- Ibid., 201.
- Ibid.
- The obvious difference is that, while there are multiple
paradigms of religious indwelling (comprising the great world
religions), there is, essentially, only one modern scientific paradigm. - At the very least, it must be acknowledged that any
attempt to offer a general, global justification for modern science
must fall far short of the standards of proof set forth in any
positivistic or objectivist philosophy. - Polanyi, Personal Knowledge, 202. Here Polanyi is acknowledging
the significance of empirical data. - Ibid., 202.
- Ibid.
- Polanyi’s epistemology represents an emphatic rejection
of any such fact/value dichotomy. - Polanyi, Personal Knowledge, 202.
- This would be a non-negotiable component of the positivist
creed. - Grene, “Tacit Knowing: Grounds for a Revolution in
Philosophy.” Journal of the British Society for Phenomenology 8,
no. 3 (1977): 167–68. - This is intrinsically bound up with his theory of tacit
knowledge, of which it is a part. - Polanyi, Personal Knowledge, 281.
- See ibid., 198.
- Ibid., 199.
- See ibid., 198. It appears that Polanyi is referring, in a
somewhat stumbling way, to the Christian teaching that human
beings stand in ongoing need of the grace of God. - Ibid., 199.
- Ibid., 280.
- Ibid., 281.
- Ibid.
- This is the professional task of the liturgist.
- Polanyi, Personal Knowledge, 281.
- There is also a generational dimension to this. Worshippers
will typically bring their children to the worship service,
nurturing in them a trusting disposition toward it. - I acknowledge a modification of my own evaluation of
Polanyi’s contribution to this topic. See Clark, Divine Revelation
and Human Practice: Responsive and Imaginative Participation
(Eugene, OR: Cascade, 2008), 137–144. - His ideas are cited in the work of theologians Jeremy
Begbie, David Bosch, Avery Dulles, Langdon Gilkey, Colin
Gunton, Trevor Hart, Thomas Langford, Andrew Louth, John
Macquarrie, Alister McGrath, Jürgen Moltmann, Lesslie Newbigin,
Ronald Thiemann, Thomas Torrance, and Kevin Vanhoozer, to
mention only some. - Polanyi, Personal Knowledge, 171.
