So They Say. Robert H. Mounce

      So They Say

      Copyright © 2014 Robert H. Mounce. All rights reserved. Except for brief quotations in critical publications or reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without prior written permission from the publisher. Write: Permissions. Wipf and Stock Publishers, 199 W. 8th Ave., Suite 3, Eugene, OR 97401.

      Resource Publications

      An Imprint of Wipf and Stock Publishers

      199 W. 8th Ave., Suite 3

      Eugene, OR 97401

      www.wipfandstock.com

      ISBN 13: 978-1-4982-0166-7

      EISBN 13: 978-1-4982-0167-4

      Manufactured in the U.S.A.

      Preface

      I’ve always loved a good quotation. It condenses so much wisdom into so few words. In fact, I like to read short books. It seems to me that almost anything can be said with fewer words. It was John Calvin, a primary figure in the Protestant Reformation, who coined the phrase “lucid brevity.” I will try to follow my own advice in this preface.

      A long time ago a friend of mine, well equipped to speak on the subject, said that progress in science is nothing more than finding order in confusion. In science one begins with a mass of data. Observation of the data hopefully brings a clue as to how one might handle it. For instance, drop a ball 100 times and it always hits the ground. Aha! The law of gravity is discovered. And so it goes. That set me to thinking about language. When the concept is not clear, it presents itself as little more than verbal data—complexity with no unifying principle. Then, someone gets it. The data is put into a meaningful relationship and out comes a pithy quotation. For example: the opposition is fierce, our forces are weak, we want to win but question our strength, what should be my choice in the face of defeat—“Give Me Liberty Or Give Me Death.” The birth of a quotation is clarity out of confusion.

      So I started paying attention to quotes, not in the huge anthologies conveniently arranged by subject or author, but those that you run onto rather accidentally. Many came from reading, others from conversation. What attracted me was the opportunity they provided for reaction, sometimes positively, other times in opposition—it didn’t make any difference. My reactions came from my own understanding of reality that, in turn, has been conditioned by a Christian upbringing. It is my worldview. When I object to a clever statement by Mr. Somebody I want it to show how I see the issue from a Christian worldview. My intention is not to put someone down. Perhaps the majority of the quotations in this book are one with which I agree—well, for the most part. My efforts are to challenge, support, alter slightly, or to enhance the quote. I apologize to the person quoted realizing that they will probably not have the chance to respond.

      So what you have in this little book is a series of good quotations and my reflections on them. May the quotes themselves, and hopefully my responses, stir you to think about the subjects addressed. I wish you a good journey into an exercise that I have found intriguing. Few things would please me more than to incite a reaction from you!

      Robert Mounce

      How do you prove what doesn’t exist?

      Friedrich Nietzsche is often quoted as saying, “There are no facts, only interpretations.” The German philosopher is of such intellectual stature that we have no option but to pay attention to what he has to say. He is asking us to accept as a “fact” that there are no facts. But wait a minute. Isn’t he expecting us to accept that very assertion as a fact? Or is he saying that it is simply a true statement? But isn’t a true statement a fact? For the life of me I can’t see how you can do away with facts and then make a factual statement about what doesn’t exist.

      There are undoubtedly the philosophically minded who can point out the fallacy of my inability to see his point — and your comments are welcomed. But for the time being my problem with the non-existence of reality remains. There are very few, if any, who can argue persuasively for a form of metaphysical nihilism that denies its own existence.

      The Judeo-Christian world-view begins with a God who created the universe as we know it. We accept its existence because we can touch it, taste it, smell it, weigh it, etc. We consider its existence a fact, and so also the One who created it. Granted, we can interpret that fact in various ways, but our interpretation doesn’t alter the reality of the fact.

      “So what,” you may say. And I can see your point. Most of us just don’t live in the lofty world of philosophical musing. However, with the “loss of reality” goes the loss of responsibility (there is no one to be responsible to) and civil life as we know it disintegrates. The end of that road is raw savagery. To deny reality is to remove the basis for all moral codes.

      Simplicity, the ultimate sophistication

      I’m attracted by simplicity. Not the simplicity that has never considered an issue, but the simplicity that emerges from careful consideration. It is what Oliver Wendell Holmes called “the simplicity on the other side of complexity.” Problems begin in a haze of uncertainty and normally become more complex before the light begins to dawn. So I’m not advocating an uniformed simplicity but the simplicity that emerges from genuine involvement with the issue.

      Simplicity is an important goal in a number of realms of life. For instance, although few in contemporary American culture have adopted it, there is a certain beauty in the simple life style. I’m not talking about poverty, but the decision to live simply so that time, energy, and resources can be spent on things that matter. I have a son who refuses to be caught up in the gotta-have-it mentality. He holds that “whatever you own, owns you,” and the more I think about it, the more I think he’s absolutely correct.

      Then there is simplicity in design. John Maeda, president of the Rhode Island School of Design, is widely known for his emphasis on “Designing for Simplicity.” Apple’s success stems in large part from Steve Job’s commitment to simplicity in design. It’s been said that a work of art is not finished until there is nothing left that can be taken away. The point is best made with Leonardo da Vinci’s conclusion that “simplicity is the ultimate sophistication.”

      On a very practical level there is what we might call simplicity in communication. There are very few things that can’t be said more effectively with fewer words (including this blog). A convincing speaker evades unnecessary verbiage and makes his point in an easily remembered phrase, e.g., “tax the rich.” Have you ever noticed that a common tactic in a “debate” is the claim that “It isn’t as simple as that.” The insistence on complexity comes from a personal need to confuse the issue.

      I