Truth, I will argue, cannot be kept confined to quarters inside what the Enlightenment called Reason, not because it is identified with an infinite God, as it was before modernity, but because it bears within itself a different sort of infinity, that of endless difference and diversification.

6 but truth as a thing to love, to live and to die for, as Kierkegaard put it.

I am all for uttering true propositions, as many as possible. I am not arguing against the truth of propositions; I am arguing that truth cannot be confined to propositions.

reason, not the light of God.

But all this freedom came at a cost – the cost of truth and wisdom. Reason broke loose from wisdom and, in classical terms, reason ultimately became foolish while truth lost its reach and range and allure.

For in fact, it never fails, the one true God always turns out to be our God, and religious truth turns out to be a zero-sum game in which the truth of our religion comes at the cost of the falsity of other religions.

I am arguing that what we say about religion is repeated in other areas like art and ethics, in everything that goes to make up our wider conception of life. My hypothesis is that religion is a clue to the travels and travails of truth, not the truth of assertions,

What the moderns call Pure Reason proved to be a new reign of terror over truth itself, which would elicit eloquent and magnificent howls of pain from the great Romantic poets and philosophers of the nineteenth century.

a ‘repetition’ of religion,