Plato offered some famous illustrations and allegories in an attempt to defend and explicate his theory of the perfect Forms and the path to knowing them. But by far his most popular illustration of the process of attaining true knowledge is contained in his allegory of the cave. In his dialogue entitled Republic, Plato tells a story of men shackled in a cave such that they must face the back wall. Behind them and slightly above them is a pit of fire behind a short wall. Beneath the wall on a road before it, and hidden behind a partition, are puppeteers who carry statues of men and beasts that rise above the partition and short wall in front of the fire and cast shadows on the back wall of the cave. The men believe these shadows and images constitute the real world.

If we release one of these men and turn him around so that he is able to see the statues and the fire, he will come to realize that the shadows were not fully real after all. If he were then to continue beyond the statues and the fire pit to the mouth of the cave, he would walk out into blinding sunlight and be unable to see anything until his eyes adjusted. After observing those things that only reflect the sun, he would eventually come to look at the sun itself, the source of light and life. His journey from the corrupt and the sensate world of images and particulars to the ultimate, perfect, and real world of absolutes and true knowledge would be complete, and it is unlikely that he would ever want to dwell among the shadows again. Plato’s story ends with a hint that such a man, upon returning to alert his fellows, would likely be scorned and even murdered by those who remain committed to the shadows, the changing and evanescent things of this world.

One might object to Plato’s theory of the Forms on the basis of the apparent number of the transcendent entities. Must one commit, for instance, to the notion of an actual transcendent and perfect man, dog, or tree to which the respective physical objects must answer? This would suggest that the realm of the Forms is quite crowded! A more substantial objection to Plato’s theory, however, relates to the gap between the formal world and the sensate world. Just how do these worlds connect? If they are parallel, then how do the Forms negotiate the gap between the two worlds in order to participate with the particulars that exemplify the universals, albeit imperfectly? Conversely, what is the ontological status of the particulars in the world? What degree of realism do they possess if their true natures are distinct from them? 

Despite these weaknesses in his theory, Christians may still appreciate Plato’s insight into human nature's tendency to entangle itself in the changing and unreliable particulars of the world at the expense of pursuing what really matters (Colossians 3:1-4; 1 John 2:15-17). Furthermore, we owe Plato a great debt for his commitment to absolute truth and his insistence on objective universals. Plato was passionate that one could know objective truth, including not only intellectual, but also moral truth. In our response to a culture that has largely reduced religious and moral ideas to matters of personal opinion and subjective feelings, it is remarkable to find an ally in an ancient pagan philosopher who grasped that moral, religious, and intellectual truths had to be objective and applicable to all people at all times. The consequence of denying this is a life sentence in a cave of shadows.

In addition, although we must reject Plato’s belief in preembodied souls, we may honor his insistence on the existence of innate knowledge. He stands in a tradition that challenges empiricism, the notion that all knowledge of reality comes only through our senses, and Christianity stands with him. We who now have the Scriptures understand that it is not by virtue of having been preembodied souls, but by virtue of being created in the image of God that we have innate knowledge of God and his foundational moral truths (Romans 1:18-21; 2:14-16). This innate knowledge provides compelling evidence for the existence of God and thus has real apologetic value.

Finally, Christians may connect with Plato’s sobering story of the destiny of a compassionate man who sought to enlighten his fellows. Persecution often follows “speaking the truth in love.” More notable, however, is that in the bittersweet saga of this saved cave dweller, Plato unknowingly foreshadowed the experience of the Son of God, who poured himself out unto death to save a starving world, and still calls us to pick up our cross and follow him.

Blessings,

Arnie Gentile