72 knowable truth. Some lines of thinking attack our ability to know truth by emphasizing the various filters in our lives that impair our vision of knowledge. For example, our cultural upbringing and the resulting personal prejudices that it engenders in us make it impossible for us to be objective observers of the present, let alone researchers of the past. Other postmoderns undermine the field by embracing various linguistic theories that see language as nothing more than symbols given assigned meanings by people at specific moments in time. Since the words (symbols) are separate from the historical events themselves (or concepts thereof), and those symbols can only be understand at that given time and place, it is pure hubris on the part of the historian to presume that he could understand the words/symbols used in historical documents. Those documents, of course, are the main sources used by historians in reconstructing and interpreting the past. As a result of analyses like these, postmoderns tend to question the ability of the field to enlighten us about what really happened in the past at all. Instead, all “historians” can do, they argue, is provide narrow, individualistic presentations of the past that may or may not have any resemblance to the past as it actually happened. We will never know, because we have no way of accessing the past. These postmodern theories are interesting for a variety of reasons, not the least of which is their use of modern understandings of what constitutes proven knowledge. Be that as it may, the field of history has tended to reject this postmodern assault. Keith Windschuttle’s book, The Killing of History, is just one among many fine responses to the postmodern critique and rightly argues for the veracity and value of the field. If the postmoderns are right, after all, then history as a field disappears and we are left with only literature. While there is nothing wrong with literature (i.e., fiction), the field of history has always purported to be providing a truthful presentation of past events (i.e., nonfiction). So, in today’s world, Clark’s seemingly obvious positions are no longer so obvious and bear emphasis. For Christians in particular, the importance of language and its ability to communicate are vitally important. If God chose to communicate to us through language, for example, then surely it is an adequate means for conveying truth. If we believe that it is not, we are in essence saying that the God of the universe cannot communicate to His creation — a creation, by the way, that He spoke into existence. In addition, as we have already discussed, our knowledge of historical events, accessed through language, is particularly important as an undergirding foundation of our faith.
RkJQdWJsaXNoZXIy MTM4ODY=