This will probably be my last post for a while. I'm not really doing much anything interesting, except enjoying the Liverpool summer. When I do return to blogging, I will drop an email to those who might be interested.
But til then, here is the reflection I wrote down as an imaginary response that I would give if they ask me at church to briefly tell people about my time in New York.
"It may very well be that many of you are interested in the sheer secular delights that New York offered and I was able to enjoy; and indeed they are many and varied. I was able to take in every form of entertainment, from Henry V off Broadway, to $5 improv nights, from free flute recitals at Manhattan School of Music, to local jazz cats at Cleopatra’s needle, to the most incredible rock I have ever witnessed, courtesy of the Smashing Pumpkins. I ventured often up into Harlem, ordering snacks and drinks and bantering with shopkeepers in Spanish, I spotted movie stars in Greenwich village, and walked past dejected –and recently unemployed- members of the Lehman Brothers’ law firm on the morning it crashed. All this and more, in the city of New York, the centre of the world.
Others of you will be directly interested in my studies, even if, after having explained it, some of it still remains stubbornly opaque. For you, I suggest we leave those discussions to another night, a night where we can warm some bread, pour a glass of wine, and recline on the sofa, allowing our bodies to rest complacent while our minds perform daring feats of intellectual gymnastics – and suffer the inevitable crashes and falls that accompany such an endeavour.
But most will want to know –have I changed? To which I reply that change per se isn’t desirable. But I know what you mean. You mean, why go all that way, and do all that study if it didn’t do anything for you, if it didn’t affect, benefit… change you somehow?
I will, to this question, reply in the positive –yes, I did learn ‘stuff’ and yes it did change me. But there are many ways in which learning can lead to change. For example, one may learn how to repair a flat tyre, and this new piece of knowledge brings about a change by making one into the kind of person that can repair tyres. This is not the kind of change I experienced.
I learnt many things this year. I read major theologians from the earliest patristic periods, through to medieval authors, to giants of the Reformation. I learnt the content of their thought, but I also learned how they came to their conclusions. Even more, by looking at the long line of development from one generation’s thought to another, I learnt how the history of Christian thinking progressed and what influenced each of the major writers. Studying that history parallels in some ways learning the history of a conflict between friends. Perhaps you once heard a story about a friend that put them in a bad light, and you thought ‘Gee, I didn’t realise so and so was like that’. But then perhaps months later you heard a further detail from someone else that put the original story in context, and made your friend’s action suddenly seem appropriate. In learning the history of a dispute, you might change – from being a person that jumps to a conclusion, to being a person who becomes more cautious, more thoughtful, more patient. And this is the kind of change I have undergone. In studying the history of Christian thought, in studying the details, and the contexts, and the reasons why people said what they did, I am now less likely to jump to a conclusion about them… or, about God they were trying thereby to explain…. And I’m now more likely to seek further information. I’m more likely to wait, to ponder, to…seek. For as the greatest theologians have always described it, the life of the Christian mind is one of fides quarens intellectum, faith seeking understanding. And where does one seek? Where else can one go, but to him who has the words of eternal life? Thus, the kind of seeking that theological study inspires is one which does its seeking in the place of prayer, at the feet of the one who left heaven and entered earth to be a light in the darkness."
Friday, May 29, 2009
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
political theology
Firstly, I'm not sure what Rebs was talking about... I always make sense, don't I??
Secondly, here's the concluding paragraph from my essay explaining the political theology of Moltmann and Metz.
"There is then, its seems, a ‘trinitarian’ shape to praxis as it functions as a criterion of truth in a fundamental theology ordered to politics. Firstly, with respect to the Father as creator and source, praxis acknowledges the doctrine of the goodness of creation; it is so committed to the well-being of the created order, both natural and social, that the practical effectiveness of social arrangements takes on the role of a criterion – if this arrangement is damaging to creation and society, it cannot be from God because God is committed to the well-being of creation. Secondly, with respect to the Son and his redemptive role, the resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth functions to undermine the secular ‘closure’ of history to the genuinely novel, and rather orients our attention to the novum creatio that we expect from God, in hope. This hope is not stimulated by the disquiet of our hearts, but by the divine promises which call us from complacency and into action. Thus, praxis functions to critique our behaviour, and call into question whether our action witnesses to the truth of the resurrection of Jesus, which has broken all bounds and revealed “the mission and call of God, which demand impossibilities of man.” Thirdly, by looking at the life of Jesus, we note the work of the Spirit which gave him birth, empowered, and raised Jesus from the dead. This work of the Spirit removes the docetic appearance of inimitability from Jesus. Rather, the presence of the Spirit in the church, just as it was in Jesus, means that we are enlisted in the redemptive work that Christ has begun; in the carrying out of that work, our own salvation and theosis arrives. Finally, the shape of the trinitarian community of Father, Son, and Spirit demands that those who claim to be empowered by that trinitarian life reflect it in a praxis of community, of solidarity. Metz and Soelle advocate an ecclesiology that views the church as being instrumental in extending the ‘kingdom of God’. What generates the activity of the church is the gap between the ‘already’ and the ‘not yet’, between the change that the arrival of the kingdom has achieved, and what remains to be done. Soelle writes that “being a disciple of Jesus… is a response to the message that the kingdom of God has come near, and from the beginning it was made in society.” The tasks that remain to be accomplished are social tasks, and therefore the response is a social one. This is why, despite the wicked moments in the history of the church, institution per se should not be abandoned, for “institutions are again acquiring a whole new meaning… as the desired bearer of critically responsible action.” In conclusion then, from both the economic roles of the trinitarian persons, and the imminent communal life of the persons together, it can be seen how praxis, or action in the world, is a fundamental category for generating and explaining Christian truth in our time."
Secondly, here's the concluding paragraph from my essay explaining the political theology of Moltmann and Metz.
"There is then, its seems, a ‘trinitarian’ shape to praxis as it functions as a criterion of truth in a fundamental theology ordered to politics. Firstly, with respect to the Father as creator and source, praxis acknowledges the doctrine of the goodness of creation; it is so committed to the well-being of the created order, both natural and social, that the practical effectiveness of social arrangements takes on the role of a criterion – if this arrangement is damaging to creation and society, it cannot be from God because God is committed to the well-being of creation. Secondly, with respect to the Son and his redemptive role, the resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth functions to undermine the secular ‘closure’ of history to the genuinely novel, and rather orients our attention to the novum creatio that we expect from God, in hope. This hope is not stimulated by the disquiet of our hearts, but by the divine promises which call us from complacency and into action. Thus, praxis functions to critique our behaviour, and call into question whether our action witnesses to the truth of the resurrection of Jesus, which has broken all bounds and revealed “the mission and call of God, which demand impossibilities of man.” Thirdly, by looking at the life of Jesus, we note the work of the Spirit which gave him birth, empowered, and raised Jesus from the dead. This work of the Spirit removes the docetic appearance of inimitability from Jesus. Rather, the presence of the Spirit in the church, just as it was in Jesus, means that we are enlisted in the redemptive work that Christ has begun; in the carrying out of that work, our own salvation and theosis arrives. Finally, the shape of the trinitarian community of Father, Son, and Spirit demands that those who claim to be empowered by that trinitarian life reflect it in a praxis of community, of solidarity. Metz and Soelle advocate an ecclesiology that views the church as being instrumental in extending the ‘kingdom of God’. What generates the activity of the church is the gap between the ‘already’ and the ‘not yet’, between the change that the arrival of the kingdom has achieved, and what remains to be done. Soelle writes that “being a disciple of Jesus… is a response to the message that the kingdom of God has come near, and from the beginning it was made in society.” The tasks that remain to be accomplished are social tasks, and therefore the response is a social one. This is why, despite the wicked moments in the history of the church, institution per se should not be abandoned, for “institutions are again acquiring a whole new meaning… as the desired bearer of critically responsible action.” In conclusion then, from both the economic roles of the trinitarian persons, and the imminent communal life of the persons together, it can be seen how praxis, or action in the world, is a fundamental category for generating and explaining Christian truth in our time."
Saturday, May 16, 2009
on the atonement
Here's the concluding chapter to my Calvin paper. It was my last paper and I'm all finished... and it feels good!
"Let me here restate the aspects of Calvin’s thought covered so far. It was seen that it was from his abundant and free love that God created the world, and that it is the same love which maintains the world against its sin and death. That sin is ubiquitous, totally corrupting both the whole individual, and the whole number of human individuals ever, for which we are obliged to make restitution to God, and failing that, deserve punishment. Because of our corrupt nature we require a mediator, whom God has provided in the person of his Son, sent into the created order. He took on human flesh as Jesus of Nazareth, and in his death the weakness of flesh and the sin of humanity was killed with him. Further, the obedience by which he lived his life sufficed as satisfaction to the Father, such that the guilt of sin was actually expiated, and redemption was achieved. It was not merely the incarnation that actualised this redemption, but the work of the Spirit brings it about in the individual by imparting the gift of faith that joins the believer to Christ and enables them to partake of his benefits. In all this, nothing of the work is man’s but it is all God’s, and so the achieving of salvation is outside the will or action of humans. It being the decision of God, salvation is only for those whom God has elected to save, and impossible for those whom God has elected to death and punishment.
What then of the scope of the atonement? It is certainly clear that for Calvin, the work of “the Spirit, strictly speaking, seals forgiveness of sins in the elect alone.” This is because the Spirit only works within and according to the eternal decree of the Father, and thus regenerates only those elected to salvation. It is clear then that the decree of the Father, and the regenerating work of the Spirit, are solely for those elected to life. But what of the work of the Son? Is his work limited to only the elect? Several features of Calvin’s thought do point to the conclusion that Christ’s work was only done on behalf of the elect. Firstly, Calvin writes regarding Christ’s kingly office that he only “fulfils the combined duties of king and pastor for the godly who submit willingly and obediently.” If one makes the reasonable assumption that there cannot be a variety of scope between the work of the different offices, then one must say that the priestly office has the same scope as the kingly, which Calvin here says extends only to the godly who submit willingly. But by reference to ‘willingly’ Calvin may be making reference to the varied degrees of sanctification visible in God’s people, meaning that Christ’s lordship is seen as fulfilled in so far as individuals obey. There are other indicators regarding the work of salvation being exclusively on behalf of the elect, as when he writes that “God regenerates only the elect…[and] firmly seals the gift of his adoption in them.” The problem here is that regeneration and sealing are works of the Spirit, which we have already seen are works limited to the elect, as Calvin says here. The real question is whether the atonement that the Spirit is sealing was itself limited to the elect, or not. We come closer to the issue of atonement when Calvin says that “the Lord freely justifies his own” , justification being predicated on satisfaction, and here we have a hint that this extends only to ‘his own’. Further, Calvin writes that God truly carries out his work with regard to “his own people” in order that “the sway of sin is abolished in them.” This seems to be confirmed in one of his more succinct statements, that “we know, moreover, that he benefits only those whose ‘Head’ he is.” This is perhaps the closest Calvin comes to saying that the atonement is limited, in so far as he speaks of the limiting of Christ’s ‘benefits’ which includes atonement, rather than the limiting of regeneration or some such, which is the work of the Spirit. From this it seems that there is warrant within Calvin’s own writings to suspect that the atonement is limited to the elect, and one may draw some further conclusions from the ‘fit’ that the idea has within his system.
In particular, two other ideas seem to be the basic correlates that demand a limited atonement, those being, namely, the efficacy of his death, and the damnation of some. It can be represented in a syllogistic form as follows:
i) All are guilty
ii) Christ’s death effectively atones for sin
iii) Some are damned
iv) Some were not atoned for
From the conclusion that some are not atoned for, it seems reasonable to point out then, that Christ only atoned for the elect. The reply might be made that the reason some are damned is that God’s election and the Spirit’s application are selective, but that the atonement is universal, and therefore they are not saved because they lack the Spirit’s work of faith. However, it must be pointed out that for Calvin, the Spirit plays an important role that is doing two jobs. Firstly, it is ensuring that even the work of faith is not a form of human cooperation, but that every moment of salvation belongs to the work of God. Secondly and more importantly, it functions to qualify the apparently universalistic implications of a soteriology grounded only in the incarnation, of which Christ’s death is a part. If human nature per se is by Christ taken up into the divine life, then anyone who has a human nature participates in that life. This universalistic tendency is clearly in conflict with Calvin’s doctrine of the reprobation of some, and so he distinguishes the work of salvation done by the Son and that done by the Spirit, in order to qualify the extent of the benefits derived via incarnation, but without losing the efficacy of Christ’s death and atoning work. Furthermore, the logic of atonement here seems to require its limitation. If it is genuinely effective, and if satisfaction is truly made for sin, then how can the Father require any more from anyone? If Christ’s atoning work was universal, then the Father was universally appeased and there could be no wrath whatsoever left. But if God punishes anyone in hell, then God is unjust, for he has punished twice for the same sin: he punished Christ once for someone’s sin, and then punished the man himself. If that is the case, then Christ’s substitutionary work seems not at all to have absorbed God’s wrath, but this is just what Calvin cannot admit. And so it seems that in the theology of John Calvin, to hold to both the efficacy of Christ’s atoning death and the punishment of those elected to reprobation, requires that in strict coherence with the saving decree of God, Christ’s death was limited to only atoning for the elect."
"Let me here restate the aspects of Calvin’s thought covered so far. It was seen that it was from his abundant and free love that God created the world, and that it is the same love which maintains the world against its sin and death. That sin is ubiquitous, totally corrupting both the whole individual, and the whole number of human individuals ever, for which we are obliged to make restitution to God, and failing that, deserve punishment. Because of our corrupt nature we require a mediator, whom God has provided in the person of his Son, sent into the created order. He took on human flesh as Jesus of Nazareth, and in his death the weakness of flesh and the sin of humanity was killed with him. Further, the obedience by which he lived his life sufficed as satisfaction to the Father, such that the guilt of sin was actually expiated, and redemption was achieved. It was not merely the incarnation that actualised this redemption, but the work of the Spirit brings it about in the individual by imparting the gift of faith that joins the believer to Christ and enables them to partake of his benefits. In all this, nothing of the work is man’s but it is all God’s, and so the achieving of salvation is outside the will or action of humans. It being the decision of God, salvation is only for those whom God has elected to save, and impossible for those whom God has elected to death and punishment.
What then of the scope of the atonement? It is certainly clear that for Calvin, the work of “the Spirit, strictly speaking, seals forgiveness of sins in the elect alone.” This is because the Spirit only works within and according to the eternal decree of the Father, and thus regenerates only those elected to salvation. It is clear then that the decree of the Father, and the regenerating work of the Spirit, are solely for those elected to life. But what of the work of the Son? Is his work limited to only the elect? Several features of Calvin’s thought do point to the conclusion that Christ’s work was only done on behalf of the elect. Firstly, Calvin writes regarding Christ’s kingly office that he only “fulfils the combined duties of king and pastor for the godly who submit willingly and obediently.” If one makes the reasonable assumption that there cannot be a variety of scope between the work of the different offices, then one must say that the priestly office has the same scope as the kingly, which Calvin here says extends only to the godly who submit willingly. But by reference to ‘willingly’ Calvin may be making reference to the varied degrees of sanctification visible in God’s people, meaning that Christ’s lordship is seen as fulfilled in so far as individuals obey. There are other indicators regarding the work of salvation being exclusively on behalf of the elect, as when he writes that “God regenerates only the elect…[and] firmly seals the gift of his adoption in them.” The problem here is that regeneration and sealing are works of the Spirit, which we have already seen are works limited to the elect, as Calvin says here. The real question is whether the atonement that the Spirit is sealing was itself limited to the elect, or not. We come closer to the issue of atonement when Calvin says that “the Lord freely justifies his own” , justification being predicated on satisfaction, and here we have a hint that this extends only to ‘his own’. Further, Calvin writes that God truly carries out his work with regard to “his own people” in order that “the sway of sin is abolished in them.” This seems to be confirmed in one of his more succinct statements, that “we know, moreover, that he benefits only those whose ‘Head’ he is.” This is perhaps the closest Calvin comes to saying that the atonement is limited, in so far as he speaks of the limiting of Christ’s ‘benefits’ which includes atonement, rather than the limiting of regeneration or some such, which is the work of the Spirit. From this it seems that there is warrant within Calvin’s own writings to suspect that the atonement is limited to the elect, and one may draw some further conclusions from the ‘fit’ that the idea has within his system.
In particular, two other ideas seem to be the basic correlates that demand a limited atonement, those being, namely, the efficacy of his death, and the damnation of some. It can be represented in a syllogistic form as follows:
i) All are guilty
ii) Christ’s death effectively atones for sin
iii) Some are damned
iv) Some were not atoned for
From the conclusion that some are not atoned for, it seems reasonable to point out then, that Christ only atoned for the elect. The reply might be made that the reason some are damned is that God’s election and the Spirit’s application are selective, but that the atonement is universal, and therefore they are not saved because they lack the Spirit’s work of faith. However, it must be pointed out that for Calvin, the Spirit plays an important role that is doing two jobs. Firstly, it is ensuring that even the work of faith is not a form of human cooperation, but that every moment of salvation belongs to the work of God. Secondly and more importantly, it functions to qualify the apparently universalistic implications of a soteriology grounded only in the incarnation, of which Christ’s death is a part. If human nature per se is by Christ taken up into the divine life, then anyone who has a human nature participates in that life. This universalistic tendency is clearly in conflict with Calvin’s doctrine of the reprobation of some, and so he distinguishes the work of salvation done by the Son and that done by the Spirit, in order to qualify the extent of the benefits derived via incarnation, but without losing the efficacy of Christ’s death and atoning work. Furthermore, the logic of atonement here seems to require its limitation. If it is genuinely effective, and if satisfaction is truly made for sin, then how can the Father require any more from anyone? If Christ’s atoning work was universal, then the Father was universally appeased and there could be no wrath whatsoever left. But if God punishes anyone in hell, then God is unjust, for he has punished twice for the same sin: he punished Christ once for someone’s sin, and then punished the man himself. If that is the case, then Christ’s substitutionary work seems not at all to have absorbed God’s wrath, but this is just what Calvin cannot admit. And so it seems that in the theology of John Calvin, to hold to both the efficacy of Christ’s atoning death and the punishment of those elected to reprobation, requires that in strict coherence with the saving decree of God, Christ’s death was limited to only atoning for the elect."
Thursday, May 07, 2009
my life
See the post below for an excerpt from the paper I've been working on all week.
While all that has been going on, I’ve still found time for a few more ‘new york’ moments. I got to be in the crowd for a tv show called The Daily Show with Jon Stewart, and they basically take news stories from the previous couple of days and re-present them in humorous ways…. And it’s seriously funny! They had this warm-up guy come out, and do a bit of a stand up routine, making fun of people in the crowd to get us laughing and loosen us up, so that when Jon came out we would laugh at his jokes and the laughter would be picked up by the audience microphones and make viewers think he’s really funny. The irony, was that the warm-up dude was actually way funnier than Jon Stewart…. go figure. The only drawback was that we had to wait in line for almost 2 hours, and then when we finally got in, it took 22 mins to record, and we were out again. There’s a strange feeling that comes over one, when you’ve paid this price of time and physical pain to stand and wait… and then it’s all over so quickly! I felt cheated indeed.
Then the other night I had a pretty cool moment. Anyone remember John and Tammy Faye Bakker? They were really big televangelists, and he got put in prison for money swindling, and she died of cancer. Well, anyway, their life was pretty tough and totally alienated their son Jay Bakker. But through it all he has scraped through and now leads a small church in Brooklyn that meets in a bar, and he came to Union the other night to speak, and his mate came along and led worship with some sweet blues piano and ‘dirty gospel’ songs. It was a really interesting night, hearing his story, and what he’s up to now. Very refreshing.
Well, that’s it from me.. I’m typing this up at my regular coffee shop, and I’ve just finished about 10 pages on one of my essays. Its 7pm so I’m gonna walk home for some fresh air, cook myself pasta for dinner, and then head back out to the library and finish some more reading!! Woohoo!
While all that has been going on, I’ve still found time for a few more ‘new york’ moments. I got to be in the crowd for a tv show called The Daily Show with Jon Stewart, and they basically take news stories from the previous couple of days and re-present them in humorous ways…. And it’s seriously funny! They had this warm-up guy come out, and do a bit of a stand up routine, making fun of people in the crowd to get us laughing and loosen us up, so that when Jon came out we would laugh at his jokes and the laughter would be picked up by the audience microphones and make viewers think he’s really funny. The irony, was that the warm-up dude was actually way funnier than Jon Stewart…. go figure. The only drawback was that we had to wait in line for almost 2 hours, and then when we finally got in, it took 22 mins to record, and we were out again. There’s a strange feeling that comes over one, when you’ve paid this price of time and physical pain to stand and wait… and then it’s all over so quickly! I felt cheated indeed.
Then the other night I had a pretty cool moment. Anyone remember John and Tammy Faye Bakker? They were really big televangelists, and he got put in prison for money swindling, and she died of cancer. Well, anyway, their life was pretty tough and totally alienated their son Jay Bakker. But through it all he has scraped through and now leads a small church in Brooklyn that meets in a bar, and he came to Union the other night to speak, and his mate came along and led worship with some sweet blues piano and ‘dirty gospel’ songs. It was a really interesting night, hearing his story, and what he’s up to now. Very refreshing.
Well, that’s it from me.. I’m typing this up at my regular coffee shop, and I’ve just finished about 10 pages on one of my essays. Its 7pm so I’m gonna walk home for some fresh air, cook myself pasta for dinner, and then head back out to the library and finish some more reading!! Woohoo!
gregory of nyssa
I've just handed in one of my major end of term papers. Here's the conclusion for your perusal.
"Supposing that the opponents in mind are the pneumatomachians, Gregory’s affirmation of the homoousia of the Spirit with the Father and Son had drawn the charge that his view entailed the opinion that there were ‘three gods’. In the fourth chapter, this paper explained Gregory’s first move against the charge, whereby he explains how according to the rules of grammar there could never be three ‘gods’ since natures are singular. But Gregory shows the truth of the point through a discussion of the error in saying there are three men, which is common habit. The effect of this however, is to trivialise his argument, for one may simply reply that though the semantic point is true, there are still three human individuals, and so why not three divine individuals? The fifth chapter then details Gregory’s response to the claim that there are three divine individuals by showing how the defining attributes or particularities of human persons are not present in the divine persons. Whereas human persons are differentiated by their having their own principles of movement, action and will, the trinitarian persons do not have these separately, but rather there is one power, goodness, will etc which is effected by all three persons of the trinity. In this way Gregory retains the divine unity by showing the disanalogy between divine persons and human persons, even though both kinds of persons are multiple hypostases sharing one nature respectively.
Such a strong emphasis on unity is in danger of confusing the persons, because if they are the same in every respect then there is no differentiation, and the persons are a fiction. Rather, chapter seven details how Gregory points to cause as the one criterion which establishes the peculiar attribute which differentiates the persons. The Father is the cause, the Son is caused directly by the Father, and the Spirit is caused by the Father through the mediation of the Son. The ‘process’ of causation and mediation is not to be understood as a temporal succession, for Gregory affirms that it happens ‘without delay’ and emphasises that “between Father, Son, and Holy Spirit there is no interstice into which the mind might step as into a void.” The generation of the Son and procession of the Spirit are eternal, and the causal distinction only goes to how the divine being subsists, and not to what it is. The whole being of Godhead thus remains eternal, uncreated, perfect in goodness and power, unchangeable, and ineffable. It is only the “idea of cause [that] differentiates the Persons of the Holy Trinity” and this distinction only penetrates to the mode of being, not the nature of being. This nature remains “unchangeable and undivided, for these reasons we properly declare the Godhead to be one, and God to be one, and employ in the singular all other names which express Divine attributes” – thereby Gregory shows Ablabius why we do not say there are ‘three gods’."
"Supposing that the opponents in mind are the pneumatomachians, Gregory’s affirmation of the homoousia of the Spirit with the Father and Son had drawn the charge that his view entailed the opinion that there were ‘three gods’. In the fourth chapter, this paper explained Gregory’s first move against the charge, whereby he explains how according to the rules of grammar there could never be three ‘gods’ since natures are singular. But Gregory shows the truth of the point through a discussion of the error in saying there are three men, which is common habit. The effect of this however, is to trivialise his argument, for one may simply reply that though the semantic point is true, there are still three human individuals, and so why not three divine individuals? The fifth chapter then details Gregory’s response to the claim that there are three divine individuals by showing how the defining attributes or particularities of human persons are not present in the divine persons. Whereas human persons are differentiated by their having their own principles of movement, action and will, the trinitarian persons do not have these separately, but rather there is one power, goodness, will etc which is effected by all three persons of the trinity. In this way Gregory retains the divine unity by showing the disanalogy between divine persons and human persons, even though both kinds of persons are multiple hypostases sharing one nature respectively.
Such a strong emphasis on unity is in danger of confusing the persons, because if they are the same in every respect then there is no differentiation, and the persons are a fiction. Rather, chapter seven details how Gregory points to cause as the one criterion which establishes the peculiar attribute which differentiates the persons. The Father is the cause, the Son is caused directly by the Father, and the Spirit is caused by the Father through the mediation of the Son. The ‘process’ of causation and mediation is not to be understood as a temporal succession, for Gregory affirms that it happens ‘without delay’ and emphasises that “between Father, Son, and Holy Spirit there is no interstice into which the mind might step as into a void.” The generation of the Son and procession of the Spirit are eternal, and the causal distinction only goes to how the divine being subsists, and not to what it is. The whole being of Godhead thus remains eternal, uncreated, perfect in goodness and power, unchangeable, and ineffable. It is only the “idea of cause [that] differentiates the Persons of the Holy Trinity” and this distinction only penetrates to the mode of being, not the nature of being. This nature remains “unchangeable and undivided, for these reasons we properly declare the Godhead to be one, and God to be one, and employ in the singular all other names which express Divine attributes” – thereby Gregory shows Ablabius why we do not say there are ‘three gods’."
Friday, May 01, 2009
more john mayer magic
.
ok, posts concerning events in my life will soon follow... promise. in the meantime, watch this.
ok, posts concerning events in my life will soon follow... promise. in the meantime, watch this.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
on suffering and theological hope
here's a selection from an essay I recently submitted on Johann Metz's political theology.
"For Metz, the memory of human suffering cannot be reduced to “a social history of oppression,” for the writing of that history often serves as little “more than a screen against which we project our present interests.” Selective accounts of past suffering merely serve as instruments by which the present order justifies its conduct. In this moment of justification, genuinely novel anticipations of hope for the hopeless are excluded by the trajectory of emancipation drawn in the self-interested struggle. Thus, a broad memoria passionis serves to raise suspicion about society’s plausibility structures, by exposing the way in which their historical self-accounting transforms them into “obfuscation structures.” When memory keeps the absolute meaninglessness of suffering in our minds, it “gives the lie to this whole affirmative… teleology” and calls into question of “the banality of what we take to be ‘realism’.” In the process of secularization in which humanity takes over from God as being the subject of history, the responsibility and the guilt of all history seems to “fall back onto human beings themselves.” In order to avoid this, emancipation is written merely as an abstract history of success, which finally exculpates itself by turning “one’s fellow human beings into enemies.” In this zero-sum process there is no liberation from guilt, or genuine redemption, but only the temporary redistribution of power. The memory of suffering keeps the ubiquity of guilt in mind, and therefore the hope of a redemption that is not anticipated by a linear ideological history. One problem is the limitation that arises from considering “human suffering in its concreteness…[as] the starting point for proclaiming the new form of life.” Are there not goods of human flourishing that find no negative expression in suffering, such that a consideration or memory of suffering could never discover the antithetical moment that allows the positive moment to be anticipated or emerge? Perhaps at this point, an aesthetic claim is needed to complement Metz’s political fundamental claims."
"For Metz, the memory of human suffering cannot be reduced to “a social history of oppression,” for the writing of that history often serves as little “more than a screen against which we project our present interests.” Selective accounts of past suffering merely serve as instruments by which the present order justifies its conduct. In this moment of justification, genuinely novel anticipations of hope for the hopeless are excluded by the trajectory of emancipation drawn in the self-interested struggle. Thus, a broad memoria passionis serves to raise suspicion about society’s plausibility structures, by exposing the way in which their historical self-accounting transforms them into “obfuscation structures.” When memory keeps the absolute meaninglessness of suffering in our minds, it “gives the lie to this whole affirmative… teleology” and calls into question of “the banality of what we take to be ‘realism’.” In the process of secularization in which humanity takes over from God as being the subject of history, the responsibility and the guilt of all history seems to “fall back onto human beings themselves.” In order to avoid this, emancipation is written merely as an abstract history of success, which finally exculpates itself by turning “one’s fellow human beings into enemies.” In this zero-sum process there is no liberation from guilt, or genuine redemption, but only the temporary redistribution of power. The memory of suffering keeps the ubiquity of guilt in mind, and therefore the hope of a redemption that is not anticipated by a linear ideological history. One problem is the limitation that arises from considering “human suffering in its concreteness…[as] the starting point for proclaiming the new form of life.” Are there not goods of human flourishing that find no negative expression in suffering, such that a consideration or memory of suffering could never discover the antithetical moment that allows the positive moment to be anticipated or emerge? Perhaps at this point, an aesthetic claim is needed to complement Metz’s political fundamental claims."
Friday, April 10, 2009
gregory of nyssa - on 'not three gods'
"As we have to a certain extent shown by our statement that the word "Godhead" is not significant of nature but of operation, perhaps one might reasonably allege as a cause why, in the case of men, those who share with one another in the same pursuits are enumerated and spoken of in the plural, while on the other hand the Deity is spoken of in the singular as one God and one Godhead, even though the Three Persons are not separated from the significance expressed by the term "Godhead,"— one might allege, I say, the fact that men, even if several are engaged in the same form of action, work separately each by himself at the task he has undertaken, having no participation in his individual action with others who are engaged in the same occupation. For instance, supposing the case of several rhetoricians, their pursuit, being one, has the same name in the numerous cases: but each of those who follow it works by himself, this one pleading on his own account, and that on his own account. Thus, since among men the action of each in the same pursuits is discriminated, they are properly called many, since each of them is separated from the others within his ownenvironment, according to the special character of his operation. But in the case of the Divine nature we do not similarly learn that the Father does anything by Himself in which the Son does not work conjointly, or again that the Son has any special operation apart from the Holy Spirit; but every operation which extends from God to the Creation, and is named according to our variable conceptions of it, has its origin from the Father, and proceeds through the Son, and is perfected in the Holy Spirit. For this reason the name derived from the operation is not divided with regard to the number of those who fulfil it, because theaction of each concerning anything is not separate and peculiar, but whatever comes to pass, in reference either to the acts of His providence for us, or to the government and constitution of the universe, comes to pass by the action of the Three, yet what does come to pass is not three things."
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