Recently in Christian Theology Category

Welcome to the Knowledge of God Prosblogion reading group! Each week, we will read a section of the book, and the section breakdown and ordering is as follows:
C. 1 (1-30), C. 1 (30-69), C. 4, C. 5, C. 2 (70-108), C. 2 (108-150), C. 3, C. 6.

Each Monday, a different Prosblogion contributor will write an opening post. Other contributors can post on that section two or three days later in the week. Everybody is welcome to read along in the book and comment.

It's a pleasure to kick-off all the fun. Let me summarize the main claims that I take Plantinga to argue for in my section.

I) If God exists, then it is likely that many people know that God exists.
II) If Christian belief is true, then it is likely that many people know that it is true.
III) If naturalism is true, then no biological organs function properly or improperly.

Plantinga's defends (I) and (II) as follows:



I'm thinking about whether it is possible that Swampman exists, where Swampman is a creature that is created by lightning which hits a swamp and the atoms just happen to arrange in to the exact arrangement of the atoms which constitute Donald Davidson (or some human). I'm also thinking about whether it is possible that Theodore exist, where Theodore is the accidental byproduct of a clumsy angel's trying to create something else (like a statue).

Plantinga gives the following (he calls 'inconclusive') argument:

But if there is such a person as God, it is unlikely that it is possible that a being capable of belief and moral agency should just pop into existence, unintended and undesigned by God. According to the Christian tradition, only God can create beings capable of belief and moral agency; I am inclined to think this is right. But even if it isn't, even if it is possible that God should delegate the task of creating such beings to some of his creatures, it still wouldn't be possible that such a creature pop into existence unintended by God. (1995, PPR 55:2, p. 460)

I have a few questions. First, where in the Christian tradition does it say this?

Secondly, is it possible that a creature that is capable of belief and agency come into existence, and it is not intended by God?

Thirdly, is it possible that a creature that is capable of belief and agency come into existence, and it is not designed by God?

I take it that to design something takes a little more than intending its existence. The owners of Honda could intend for there to be the creation of more cars, but the engineers of Honda might have to design those cars. I also take it that some facts are unintended by God. I am a certain distance from an atom on your left cheek - it's not obvious (and probably not the case) that God intended this fact to be the case. This is probably an unintended byproduct of other things God intended. Both of these points can be disputed.

Many people have difficulty with God's acts in the Bible because God seems to be committing or commanding immoral acts (e.g., when God commands the Israelites to wipe out certain people-groups, including children). I think that many of these charges can be alleviated if some good justification can be given for the claim that it is morally permissible for God to kill people as he does in the Bible.

One step towards arguing for the claim that it is morally permissible for God to kill people is to argue that people do not have the right not to be killed by God. I may have the right that you not kill me, and vice versa, but



Holiness

| 13 Comments

In Revelation, we learn that the angels are singing "Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord God almighty!" We speak of "holy men" and there might be a "holy moment". We strive for "personal holiness".

I've always had difficulty getting a grasp of this concept. Sometimes, it seems that "holiness" is used synonymously with "moral purity" or "sinlessness". I've also heard "being holy" equated with "being wholly other or set apart or different", but what's that supposed to mean?

As a first approximation, x is holy iff x is really, really morally good. But this feels like its lacking. Any ideas?

The theory of penal substitution goes something like this:

1) Human beings have sinned, and so justice demands that we be punished for our sin.
2) God, as a just God, must therefore satisfy the demands of justice.
3) But because of God's great love for us, God pours his punishment and wrath not on us, but on Jesus, God's only Son.
4) The punishment and wrath that we deserved was placed on Jesus so that the demands of justice have been met.

I don't know if this is the best characterization of the theory, but I thnk that something close to this is correct. It is very different from Michael Murray's characterization of the theory, but Murray seems to blur the penal substitution and satisfaction-debt theories.

Questions:
a) Is there a better characterization of the penal substitution theory? How might (1)-(4) be refined?
b) What's the problem with (1)-(4) (or the penal substitution theory generally)? Why is it that it seems that a lot of people (including Christian theologians and philosophers) have a problem with them/it? (And these people don't only have a problem with (1)-(4), it seems, but anything close to (1)-(4), specifically (3).)

Pre-Script: Matt, thanks for all your hard work updating the site!

This is a *very* inchoate idea, but that should be what blogs are for. So I've been thinking about transubstantiation. I'm going to throw a bunch of stuff out there and then try to tie it together. It will be the most disorganized thing I've ever posted but I've still got a few MS deadlines (almost done for now tho!) and, again, this is a friendly blog (and I don't think the post so hopeless as to be rude to post). It will largely consist in my affirming the possibility of various things, many of which might be pretty controversial in some quarters. Nevertheless, for those that share the affirmations there might be a way of understanding transubstantiation in the neighborhood.

Suppose you're reading a novel and it says that a powerful wizard moved an object from one side of the planet to the other in an instant. You might worry about exactly what theory explains how that other object is the *same* object, but I don't think there's much reason to think the author has attributed the impossible to the magician. I don't think even a philosopher with no off switch (me!) should be stopped in their tracks by such a story. I think it's sufficient that it's *that* object which the wizard decided to move *there*.

I think the same is true with time travel. Time travel stories involve no clear incoherencies. I think conceivability or apparent conceivability is defeasible evidence of possibility, and I'm aware of no clear arguments for the incoherence of time travel.

I think we need primitive thisness and primitive identity to solve various problems in metaphysics anyway (associated with Chisholm's paradox) so I'm going to help myself to them if need be.

Finally, I think bilocation is possible (a species of multi-location where a usually one-one relation is one-many).

Finally finally, I think that the "accidents" or "secondary qualities" or whatever of substances are a result of the causal powers they have and that they have whatever causal powers God wills that they have at any given time.

So here's the inchoate hunch/hope. God takes certain molecules of the body of Jesus and causes them to multi-locate across time and gives them new causal powers, one's which mimic the normal causal powers of bread and wine.

I'm not claiming that this is original (maybe lots of people have already thought of something like this) or that it exhausts the doctrine (for example the "Soul and Divinity" part remains unexplained but I'm just trying to cover the material part). What I find interesting in this approach is that it seems to get us pretty close to the doctrine while making it clear what it commits us to and it's surprisingly little (in my view since I hold all these views anyway, I get this view at *no* additional cost).

I have no doubt that Alex and Tim will let me know if I've run afoul of Catholic dogma (something I don't want to do), but, again, I am not suggesting this as a definition of the doctrine but rather pointing out how far we can get towards it with such (relative) clarity and little cost.

Pre-Script: Matt, thanks for all your hard work updating the site!

This is a *very* inchoate idea, but that should be what blogs are for. So I've been thinking about transubstantiation. I'm going to throw a bunch of stuff out there and then try to tie it together. It will be the most disorganized thing I've ever posted but I've still got a few MS deadlines (almost done for now tho!) and, again, this is a friendly blog (and I don't think the post so hopeless as to be rude to post). It will largely consist in my affirming the possibility of various things, many of which might be pretty controversial in some quarters. Nevertheless, for those that share the affirmations there might be a way of understanding transubstantiation in the neighborhood.

Suppose you're reading a novel and it says that a powerful wizard moved an object from one side of the planet to the other in an instant. You might worry about exactly what theory explains how that other object is the *same* object, but I don't think there's much reason to think the author has attributed the impossible to the magician. I don't think even a philosopher with no off switch (me!) should be stopped in their tracks by such a story. I think it's sufficient that it's *that* object which the wizard decided to move *there*.

I think the same is true with time travel. Time travel stories involve no clear incoherencies. I think conceivability or apparent conceivability is defeasible evidence of possibility, and I'm aware of no clear arguments for the incoherence of time travel.

I think we need primitive thisness and primitive identity to solve various problems in metaphysics anyway (associated with Chisholm's paradox) so I'm going to help myself to them if need be.

Finally, I think bilocation is possible (a species of multi-location where a usually one-one relation is one-many).

Finally finally, I think that the "accidents" or "secondary qualities" or whatever of substances are a result of the causal powers they have and that they have whatever causal powers God wills that they have at any given time.

So here's the inchoate hunch/hope. God takes certain molecules of the body of Jesus and causes them to multi-locate across time and gives them new causal powers, one's which mimic the normal causal powers of bread and wine.

I'm not claiming that this is original (maybe lots of people have already thought of something like this) or that it exhausts the doctrine (for example the "Soul and Divinity" part remains unexplained but I'm just trying to cover the material part). What I find interesting in this approach is that it seems to get us pretty close to the doctrine while making it clear what it commits us to and it's surprisingly little (in my view since I hold all these views anyway, I get this view at *no* additional cost).

I have no doubt that Alex and Tim will let me know if I've run afoul of Catholic dogma (something I don't want to do), but, again, I am not suggesting this as a definition of the doctrine but rather pointing out how far we can get towards it with such (relative) clarity and little cost.

Christ is the truth

| 19 Comments

What does it mean to say that Christ is the truth?  There are less deep readings of this: only through Christ we learn the most important truths, that the most important truths are about Christ, etc.  Such readings make "Christ is the truth" be mere metonymy.  But I think that a deeper reading is called for, perhaps in conjunction with reflection on Christ as logos.

A deeper reading would, I think, have implications for metaphysics, including theories of truth.

Is Christ that whereby subject grasps object?

Is Christ that whereby human sentences or human thoughts correspond with their intentional objects, when they do so?

Is Christ a-letheia, a Heideggerian un-veiling of reality?

In a discussion about the metaphysical status of race (of all things) on my personal blog, Econ Grad Stud said something that led to a question that I've thought about before but having really arrived at anything definitive about. Assume an atemporal view of God and an orthodox position on the Trinity and the Incarnation. Answer the following questions:

1. Did Christ become human?
2. If so, was there a time when Christ was merely divine (and thus not human)?
3. In what sense, if any is Christ atemporal?

I'm not sure what I think of this, but I'll try out a toy theory, which does have some argumentative support.



In another post, I mentioned one difference between exegesis of Scripture and of secular texts, stemming from the different role of the principle of charity in the case of an inerrant and a fallible text.  There is also a second, perhaps less "hot", difference (not unrelated to the first) between interpreting the Word of God and interpreting works of philosophy (what I say will apply less in the case of poetry, fiction, etc.) 

If I read Plato, I want to figure out what Plato thought about different issues, or what Plato thought at different times about different issues.  The main reason I want to do this is because Plato was a pretty smart guy, and his views are likely to advance to search for truth.  The focus, then, is on Plato.  If Plato is silent in his extant works about some particular issue but I can find out from other historical sources what he thought about it, then apart from the accidental fact that in his case these other sources aren't all that reliable, this is about as good as reading it in his work.  Thus, on the basis of the historical discussions of Plato's famous lecture on the Good, I think I know that it is a part of Plato's view that the Good has a knowable mathematical structure.  I haven't read this claim in any of the texts, though the weird arithmetic towards the end of the Republic is confirmatory (I'm following Myles Burnyeat's interpretation here; I am no Plato scholar).  Moreover, if I can infer from some text that Plato held p, then even if Plato never asserts p in the text, that still directly furthers my exegetical goal to know the mind of Plato.  As a final thought experiment, if we found a lost work by Plato and were somehow able to authenticate it, this would automatically be just as good to us as the other works vis-a-vis the tasks of Plato interpretation, unless it were of inferior intellectual quality.

However, the case of the Scriptural works of St. Paul is different.  There what we read as Christians is God's word.  What Paul says is a direct guide to truth: what Paul asserts in Scripture is true.  Knowing the mind of Paul is a means to the primary exegetical goal of knowing what the text, and hence the Holy Spirit, is teaching us.  This is the reverse of the pattern we had in the case of Plato where knowing what the text is teaching us was a means to knowing whe mind of Plato. 

This has implications.  If we learned from reliable non-Scriptural sources that Paul believed p, this would not be just as good vis-a-vis our primary exegetical goal as reading p in the text of Paul's Scriptural texts.  Learning that Paul believed p might well help us with exegesis of Scripture, but does not directly further the exegetical task of knowing God's word.  What Paul teaches in Scripture is God's word.  What Paul believes is a good thing to know, because Paul was smart, a good Christian and had good access to apostolic doctrine, but it does not have the authority that Scripture possesses.  In the case of Plato, the text possesses no authority, and hence it is the mind of Plato we most want to know.

Likewise, if we can infer from a text that Paul believes some proposition, we should not treat that proposition on par with the propositions actually taught by Paul in the text.  That proposition tells about the mind of Paul, but does not tell us directly about the mind of God who inspires Scripture.  It is interesting what is on the mind of Paul.  It may shed a light on what the meaning of the text in various places is, given that the meaning of a text is closely bound up with the expressive intentions of the author.  But it lacks authority. 

In particular, it follows that even if inerrance holds, there can be texts in Scripture from which we can infer that the author was ignorant of something or even believed a falsehood.  For instance, consider the following pattern of reasoning that we employ in the exegesis of secular texts: "The author wrote that p.  The only reason the author might have thought p was relevant in this context was because he believed q.  Hence the author believed q."  This is a perfectly fine piece of reasoning.  But even if we can sometimes correctly deploy it in the case of Scripture, q will not have the authority of p.  It is not what the human author believes, as such, that has authority, but what the human author teaches.  

This observation, especially combined with Donnellan's famous distinction between the referential and attributive uses of language, can be a powerful tool for handling certain concerns about inerrance in cases where it is evident from Scripture that the author believed a false scientific claim.  As long as the author did not assert the claim, or something that entails it, there is no difficulty.

Of course what St. Paul teaches is a subset of what he believes--the texts of Scripture are sincere.  

A way to highlight the difference is what would happen if we found a new text by St. Paul.  Unless we had good reason to include that text in the canon (e.g., we also found lots of early Church texts showing that the text was accepted as part of the canon;  this is unlikely, since one would expect that if a text were considered canonical, it would have been copied a lot and hence it wouldn't have been lost).  This would be a wonderful find for knowing the mind of Paul.  But it would not have the kind of authority Scripture does.  Though, in the special case of Paul, it might have some Apostolic authority (and in the special case of Peter, even infallible papal authority), but only if it was a text intended to bear authority.

However, I do not want to deny the fact that there are purposes for which we can read Scripture in the same was as we read Plato.  Someone writing a book on the life and views of Paul of Tarsus will read St Paul's Scriptural works not as Scripture, but as reflections of the mind of Paul.  Moreover, such work can be extremely illuminating for the exegesis of Scripture because of the at least partially constitutive role that the author's intentions play in the meaning of the text.  But the goal of the primary sort of Biblical exegesis is to figure out what the author teaches in the text.

I want to also note that there are modes of reading Plato that are more interested in what the text says than in what Plato thinks.  There is certainly room for that sort of reading, and it is important.  In the case of works of fiction, this kind of reading is crucial.  In the case of Plato it can still be very important.  It is less important in the case of a less literary text, like Aristotle's texts.  The line is not quite as clear-cut as I indicate above.

Let me end on the note there are other kinds of important and properly Scriptural exegesis besides this: there is allegorical, tropological and anagogical, for instance.  These kinds are even less about the mind of Paul and even more about the mind of God.  But these kinds rest on the foundation of what I have been talking about, which the Church Fathers called a discernment of the "literal" meaning of Scripture (certainly not to be understood as "literalistic").  

There's been lots of discussion in the previous post about canonicity.  Which books are the inspired books that God has given to his church?  We want a canon that contains all and only the inspired texts.  Only inspired texts, so that we aren't led astray by phonies; all inspired texts, so that we aren't missing something vital.  

But, how is the Christian supposed to know which canon is the right one?  The Catholics, Orthodox, and Protestants all have different canons, and that's just mentioning the three most common canons.  There are many other professed canons out there.  How does the Christian know which to affirm?  

What sorts of things could justify the Christian in judging /this/ canon to be all and only God's word?  I'm not asking (yet) for the whole story; I'm asking a more general question.  What sorts of justification /could/ do the work here?

More below the fold.



One of the hallmarks of modern Biblical scholarship--which is not entirely modern--is an attempt to use the same methods for Scriptural exegesis as are used for the interpretation of secular texts.  This is a valuable exercise that can free the interpreter from personal biases and bring interesting and at times important features of the text to light.  But in this post I want to highlight two differences between interpreting Scripture and secular texts, and ask the readers for comments on how this affects exegesis.  The differences arise from two features of Scriptural texts: the texts' inerrance and the fact that what is of theological interest is what the texts assert.  In this first part of the post, I will focus on inerrance.



About this Archive

This page is a archive of recent entries in the Christian Theology category.

Calls For Papers is the previous category.

Concept of God is the next category.

Find recent content on the main index or look in the archives to find all content.

Powered by Movable Type 4.2rc3-en