Ruminations on Math and Knowledge

As I've been tutoring in math lately, I've been thinking about what goes on within mathematics and possible relations to our own knowledge. Maybe some analogies here will clear up some of my ideas concerning the nature of logic and its relation to reality; on the other hand, maybe it'll just lead to more obfuscation.

(1) When we work with sines and cosines (as well as tangents, cotangents, secants, and cosecants), we are referring back to the relations between the sides of a triangle. We are actually talking about the sides of that triangle, with precise and true statements. However, we can never get at those sides in and of themselves. We really only get at their relations, and so all of our thinking about them is entirely relational. But this doesn't affect its validity. Further, through these trigonometric relations, we see all sorts of things which we would not have seen without looking at the relations; we can see how triangles relate to circles, we can work with all sorts of signals in engineering, we can calculate many different identities relating our relations are so delve into the depths of the nature of mathematics. All of this is possible precisely because we are working with the relations (we are speaking "analogically," if you will). So, even if we cannot know the sides in themselves, we can understand their significance and have real, true, precise, meaningful speech about them.

(2) We've all learned about the quadratic equation. There are cubic and quartic equations too, for higher order polynomials, and so anything with at most an x⁴ term in it can be solved through an equation (even if the equations are too complicated for most practical use). However, there is no general equation for any higher order polynomial; once an x⁵ is in there, kiss straightforward procedures goodbye. We can prove that there cannot be a general procedure for solving these monsters. I'll maybe look at the proof some other time; meanwhile, the importance of this is that even though we have a perfectly logical, ordered reality, we cannot analyze it all according to any one method.

Hurray for Platonism!

D'oh....

So, I was glancing through my latin texts, and I realized that I have made a grave error. You see, vulpes isn't a 5th declension noun after all, but a 3rd. I'll blame the latin book which I cannot find right now for the mistake. So, the url will remain the same to immortalize my error, but from now on, this blog will be Pulpitum Vulpis.

Individualism

Currently reading:
Beginning Latin Poetry Reader
   by Gavin Betts & Daniel Franklin

I just finished watching Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer, and was struck by the continuity in the theme of the ugly duckling in American culture. From the time of Rudolph in the 60s, to Happy Feet and Ratatouille today, we have celebrated the misfit who overcomes the odds and saves the day. But why must we keep giving the message? There must be a market for it, or else it would have fallen out of use. However, we still need to remind people that those who march to the beat of a different drummer are not the devil incarnate. Even in a culture which celebrates individualism, we become a herd of "individualists," committed to being unique in the same way as everyone else.

In most cases, this struggle is portrayed as one in which the lonely individual is the hero, and society is simply morally deficient. And it is hard to disagree with this assessment. It is hard to disagree with Nietzsche in declaring most people to be part of the slave mentality, even apart from his association of this with Christianity. Kierkegaard's assessment of those who live at the aesthetic level, the level of living life beautifully in the moment without ever making any real decisions, is woefully accurate. Confucius struggled with finding any rulers, or even many people period, who would seek more than their own glory to work toward the betterment of the Chinese society. Socrates was condemned by the majority, and let us not forget the mob chanting "Crucify!" at the trial of Jesus. This is without even getting into the atrocities committed for racial reasons. It seems to be just plain wrong to go with the flow, in all times, in all places.

But surely this can't be the entire story. Even if we admit that people are sinful, there seems to be some instinct hard-wired into some people to be primarily a part of the community. Why would God create this desire for communal harmony in us if we were all called to deny it? Can everyone spend the time seeking the truth for oneself, without substantial help and simple trust in others?

Kant, in his Conflict of the Faculties, lays out the situation as follows: There were three higher subjects (faculties) in his day, Theology, Law, and Medicine. The doctors would never be able to get around to healing anyone if they had to always go back and reassess their medical knowledge. Similarly, the judges could never hand down a verdict in a case if they had to question the validity of every law which passed their way, and theology could never get underway if the theologians had to constantly turn back to prolegomena and the results of historical studies for Scripture. On the other hand, we need philosophers who question these results, who keep the conversations open. We should not close down the questions entirely, but concern with the theory keeps us from practical results. If we require everyone to go against the herd instinct, to go his or her own way, then society would collapse.

Which leaves us in the following dilemma: we need society in order to carry on our lives, and society needs firm structures in place in order to function. These structures, however, will marginalize and commit violence against some people in the society. Further, in practice the society often goes astray, leading to the necessity of individuals going against said society. New movements will begin, only to fall back into the same problems as the necessity arises for a societal order (cf. almost any religious movement which promises freedom from the old way of life), and committing the same sins.

So, in the end, we can either give standards which will burden those who do the work in society, or we can fall victim to institutional sin. We can be Pharisees or publicans, but how hard it is to walk as Jesus walked! Gentleness leads to inaction and strength to violence, and how difficult it is to traverse the middle path.

Sola Scriptura

I've been trying to find a good way of framing the doctrine of sola Scriptura, so that I would realize what exactly it is that I am rejecting. To start, I assume that it is something between Scriptura nuda on the one hand (which states that everything needed for faith is found directly in Scripture, provable from Scripture, and that we don't need any outside help to get it), and the RC and EO views of tradition one the other. So, how do we account for the status of Scripture while also listening to tradition, without being arbitrary in what we pick?

I posit three models: (1) the heuristic model, (2) the alternative reading model, and (3) the tension model. (1) would be the closest to Scriptura nuda; it says that everything we need, can be found in Scripture and provable by Scripture. However, it has a better grasp of the enormity of this task. For this reason, we seek help from others (from the tradition) to guide us to a correct reading. However, in principle, we could get everything directly from Scripture without a tradition. The tradition acts like a heuristic in mathematics; that is, it doesn't mean anything when it comes down to proving something, but it gives hints to where a fruitful grove of theorems may lie.

(2) is the alternative reading model. (1) only admits of a single reading of Scripture (presumably we would not be able to prove contradictory doctrines, and so would not have contradictory readings). (2) is like (1), only it discusses the matter of multiple interpretations. Let us assume that there are readings of Scripture R and S, such that R leads to doctrine x and S leads to doctrine y, where x and y are mutually exclusive. Further, the tradition affirms doctrine x over doctrine y, or reading R over reading S. Then, the reading R of Scripture is correct. We can say that everything is contained in Scripture, and that the Tradition is necessary for finding the correct view.

(3) is the tension model. Unlike (2), we cannot hold to a specific doctrine as mandatory in Scripture; everything is theoretically up for grabs. However, in practice, this is not what happens as there are checks and balances. All readings of Scripture, throughout time as well as in our own present circumstances, are weighed and hold each other in tension. Our present reading of Scripture is never complete in and of itself, but must be looked at against the Tradition, which in turn must be looked at in light of contemporary thought (therefore, a triad of Scripture, reason, and Tradition). The Tradition keeps us from going off anywhere and everywhere, but cannot anchor us down to any specific doctrine; it must always be heard, but not always heeded. Similarly for any other voice. Turning again to a mathematical analogy, we keep coming up with new equations, occasionally new variables, but each equation gives us new constraints as well. Or, alternatively, we throw in a bunch of different starting points and have them compete amongst each other to see which ones are the best, then start from the winners, throw in more new points, compete again, ad infinitum (like a genetic algorithm, for AI peeps).

I think that (1) is the only version which works for standard conservative Protestantism. Unfortunately, it rests on doubtful assumptions concerning textual interpretation (in theory at least, there must be one and only one coherent reading of the text; I think that different versions might deal with historical information differently), and I'm skeptical about its validity for practice (it assumes that we can take any starting point which has been taken and from there get closer and closer to the intended reading, with the occasional guidance of Tradition; also, even if in theory it works, practice seems closer to (2) and we need to go with what works, not what looks pretty). Simply put, I need to see (1) articulated by scholars with practice in literary interpretation before I would give it any more heed. Also, it seems to fall victim to a classical argument against sola Scriptura: it cannot prove itself, and so by its own criterion cannot be an important aspect for faith.

(2) seems more likely from an interpretation standpoint. However, here we run into the issue of where we draw the line on questions of proof. To avoid saying that the proof for a doctrine comes directly from Scripture, we must say that it comes from a reading of Scripture given within the Tradition. We must then separate readings which are merely Scripture, and so do not violate sola Scriptura, and readings which interpose extra-biblical material. Where is the dividing line between Protestant and Catholic? After all, RC wants to claim that its dogmas are the result of a couple thousand years of meditating on Scripture and the Tradition of the church, and recent RC theology has wanted to reverse the move at Trent which split the two into two different sources. In addition, interpretations of the "sufficiency of Scripture" historically have been loathe to separate it from the Church's understanding of Scripture; this seems to leave the user of (2) in either RC or EO, or foundationless (i.e. Scripture would not support sola Scriptura).

So, this leaves (3). This would be the approach of several groups which are too diverse to catch under a single name. I do not think that relativism leads to groundlessness; space and time are relative, and real conditions of our experience if nothing else which do not fall apart into a merely subjective flux. When I talk about spatio-temporal properties, I mean something, even if I must always be using arbitrary standards and referents. Similarly, we could hold to a single meaning of Scripture which is read off only in particular circumstances, relative to readers yet not a flight of fancy. This is my only hope right now of not going Catholic, but I still have the concerns which I voiced in the last post.

Edit: I think that there is one more model, which is really a version of (2) or (3), which is the closest to the rhetoric which I hear concerning the doctrine. This is the "antiquity" model (A), which gives greater authority to earlier voices (the apostles are the most important to listen to, then next comes the church of the first couple centuries, then the next couple, and so on). If we follow (2), then when the church has had mutually exclusive readings R and S of Scripture, and R is the earlier reading, we pick R over S. If we follow (3), then we count earlier voices as having more weight then more contemporary voices, but still able to be outweighed. I'll have to think about these some more, concerning whether they can escape the problems given above.

Theological Hodgepodge

This is some more thinking out loud about my current theological crises, so don't be expecting anything too coherent in this post. I'll refine my view of Protestant interpretation, discuss what features would move me to choose RC over liberal Protestantism, and start picking through the issue of conflicting interpretations in various groups.

(1) I would like to say that, despite my frustration with Protestant interpretations of Scripture, I do not think that Protestant interpreters are idiots. There are many extremely bright people who have read the Bible and come to Protestant conclusions. Calvin was very bright and profound, for example, and many of my professors have been and are as well. I simply think that such interpretation relies more on its own tradition than it supposes, and that this tradition is ill-formed from its conception in the Reformation. Most of my readers will disagree with that, but that is where I stand until I can see otherwise.

(2) My two live options seem to be RC and orthopraxy of one sort or another. I think that rationally, the two come out evenly; orthopraxy may even come out a little ahead (I've settled that the Marian and Papal dogmas aren't pernicious; I still find them hard to swallow). However, there are many other concerns which I have. For one thing, I need to be able to proclaim that Jesus is God Incarnate, period. If the church which I am in is iffy on that note, then I cannot really see myself in that church.

The reason for this is simple: Arianism is not Christianity. It may have a more enlightened moral view than anything else non-Christian, but if it were established from the relevant authorities then I would be packing my bags for some other religion. So, therefore, I need to find a church which allows me to say that Christ is God; not just that the church says that, but that it can provide the grounds for saying so.

Biblical exegesis might get us a good, coherent reading which supports the view, but if it's down to Biblical exegesis alone, then why can we have any firm foundation? Couldn't later exegesis always revise the opinion? All of the good exegesis which I have seen has acknowledged that there are no logically tight arguments in interpretation, just better readings, and the field bears that out empirically. So, we must always defer any certain statement, though we may have enough to live by for the moment. This is not a logical problem with the position, but a recognition that it is not a solid basis for even an Anti-Arian position.

So, I am down to a minimalist view and a maximalist view. The first thing which tips the scales for me is this: it would be better to take the maximalist view were the minimalist view to be true, then for the opposite to occur. The second is like: my problem right now is that I have too little food to eat, not that I have too much. It could be that I simply need to learn how to diet, but putting that aside, the maximalist view seems to offer the better way to meet my needs, even if there is some junk food thrown in.

In addition, I find that the attention on lack of ritual really replaces ritual for some people. One can become attached to non-ritual just as easily as to ritual, and trust in the lack of "works" which is in reality a work in and of itself. I want a way to express my faith; similar to my gesticulations when I speak, I like to be able to use a physical language of symbolism. I don't want to engage in it as a means of salvation, though I see no prima facie problem with God employing certain usual means in his dealing with humanity. Rituals don't save, but neither do non-rituals; only God's grace through Jesus Christ does. Our faith is the matter which should underlie all of our acts, whether kneeling or abstaining.

This might raise the question of why I would convert to RC, if I think that Protestantism has the basis of faith down. For one thing, there are still certain key questions concerning how God has decided to act within the world which need to be hammered out, and so this talk of "grace" and "faith" does not settle the question (for the record, I loathe it when people tell me to "just have faith"). But really, the main point to me is that I think that RC is right, and if so then the will of God is that I should be part of that "official" body of Christ. If it is the will of God, then it is what I should do, irregardless of consequences one way or another.

(3) I am still wrestling through the problem of conflicting interpretations. It seems that everything which I am saying could be critiqued; I could be falling prey to a modernist, analytical dichotomy, of the kind which my posts on logic so deplore. It could be the case that there is no necessary reason why, say, the emergent church, or Anglicanism, would hit upon the truth, and yet they do through God's grace. Somehow within the midst of diversity, the thread of truth is woven into its tapestry. This argument has even more force because of some of my reasons for considering RC seriously; since Vatican II, there is an opening for serious thought about theology within RC, and for new development. Trent's "infallibility" of the church becomes vague and allows for reworking within the textual boundaries. Does this make null and void my earlier arguments against the Protestant position? Wouldn't I find myself similarly situated in RC, as I surely wouldn't be one of those who would just content myself with the church's proclamations and be done with it? Wouldn't I be appealing to the same position which I deny to Protestants?

I'm not going to say that I'm not troubled by this. However, if it is all about conflicting interpretations which somehow hold the truth in their tension, then this does not settle the question in favor of any specific group. All groups seem to need this to some extent, or at least all the groups in which I am interested. No matter where I go, I must face the fact that the theology of the said group does not match up well with the historical realities of Scripture. Therefore, other reasons can come in which tip the balance in one way or another.

These reasons are not such that they are logically valid in all contexts, but rather point out some salient features of the various conversations which do present problems. There is a practical point to be made in critiquing Protestant views of sola Scriptura, even if the doctrine can be theoretically defended. This is similar to how the average believer can believe in God because of creation, and her belief is valid even though she knows nothing about the intricacies of the cosmological argument or her own hidden assumptions.

I will never reach the point in this life where each point could be made with the infinite precision and study necessary, and so at some time the practical, faulty, and yet not entirely irrelevant conclusions must be what I act upon.

Random Philosophical Thoughts

I'm really only blogging about half the things that I would like to; I figure that for everything I jot down, it means another post which I added earlier will be ignored. However, I also want to write stuff out before I forget it, and so here it goes: some variations on a theme of Scotus.

Thought #1: I see that Scotus is often criticized for having such a complicated system of logic. These criticisms are often directed at him by those who wish to get back down to reality. But I would think that the complicated logic is precisely and indication of Scotus' commitment to explaining reality! Those who get too caught up in abstractions have simple, or at least simpler, logical systems; just chop out the stuff you can't explain and be done with it (*cough* Ockham *cough*). Complicated logic is usually a sign that a person is grappling with the nitty-gritties of the situation and not content to let the abstraction do all the work.

Thought #2: We need a category for the analytic a posteriori. We have the analytic a priori (immediate and necessary), synthetic a posteriori (mediate and contingent), and synthetic a priori (mediate and necessary). But it seems that there are immediate and contingent beliefs (and therefore, analytic a posteriori): I exist, I see, I perceive such-and-such. We might be able to transform any of these statements to an analytic a priori statement by teasing out logical entailments, but this would miss the actual grounding of these statements. I don't logically conclude by the meaning of the words "I exist" and their entailments that I exist, I just have an immediate cognition of the contingent fact of my existence. So, we have 4 forms of knowledge: rational, empricial, transcendental, and existential. (Yes, this is also based on Scotus, though he like other Aristotelians would explain the difference between "transcendental" and "rational" knowledge differently).

Clarifications

Currently reading:
Tradition & Traditions
   by Yves Congar

I figured that I would put down some reasons which have allowed me to take the leap of seriously considering conversion. I doubt that I'll convince anyone else, but at least in this way people can understand my position better, and (I hope) at least have some concerns removed about what I may be giving up in going.

First, in reading through the documents of Vatican II, I was struck by how often they pointed things back to Christ. The status of the church is founded up Christ, Mary and the saints are meant to demonstrate the power of God, and infallibility is only supposed to be exercised in line with the message already given by Christ to the apostles. Now, one might think that the arguments are forced, that they don't reflect practice, and so on, and all of this may be true; however, what it did show me was that there is a real concern in at least official Catholic theology to give due honor to our Lord.

Second, in reading certain accounts of tradition (such as that given in Vatican II, or more explicitly in Tradition and Traditions), I was able to find a view of tradition which gives due place to Scripture and the message given to the apostles by Christ. I don't have to accept the Tridentine account which gives revelation one source in Scripture, and once source in tradition; everything is bound up, and Scripture is a quite necessary element. It's not even that there is a separate oral tradition complementing Scripture, but rather an interpretative tradition which has also supplied forms of worship. If one takes typological exegesis of Scripture as important, and not just historical-grammatical (something which I think is necessary for treating Scripture as a canon, and to account for the exegesis within the NT and the early church), then the interpretive community really does have something to supply which is based on Scripture but also alongside it; Scripture is sufficient as a source, though not as a proof, of doctrine. Again, you may not be satisfied by this account, but the important thing is that I see views which are allowed within RC that give greater primacy to Scripture than has been done at times.

Third, I've been rethinking the relation between faith and works, and reading some more on the Catholic view of the matter. On the one hand, as I've mentioned, I see a greater coherence in Scripture through altering some of the more traditional Reformed categories; on the other, I see RC statements which strongly affirm the working of God's grace within salvation and or subsequent actions.

So, these are some of the reasons which have allowed me to reconsider my options. I do not see myself as changing my basic convictions, but rather seeking a place to express them without the present problems I see in Protestantism. I don't plan on putting up pictures of Mary in our house, or of opening up meals with a prayer to St. So-and-so. I don't plan to ritualizing my way to salvation; I don't seek a new way of salvation at all, but to follow what it is I see that God wants me to do. I don't want to introduce a new source of revelation. I've always considered myself an Evangelical per accidens; that is, the doctrine in Evangelicalism matched up with my own, but with no necessary reason behind it. For me, it's been and will be about the primacy of Christ working through his people, and giving due glory to God in the way which God has seen fit.

Conversion

I've been thinking about this for a long time, and a good number of recent blog posts (and not-so-recent) tie into this. I'm coming to the point where I just can't defend Protestantism anymore. Unless someone can help me out of the problems which I have, conversion is imminent; I'll talk about Roman Catholicism here, but Eastern Orthodoxy hasn't been ruled out yet.

In the following arguments, I would like to note that there may be some false dichotomies. I am not perfectly happy with the way things are laid out; however, I'm dealing with a crisis of conscience concerning a murky area, where nothing comes out either clear or certain. To ignore my conscience now would be wrong, whether or not following it would be right, as I would be purposefully choosing against what I see to be good and true for my own comfort. Given that, the following is only meant to be a way of sorting through the issues, and not as a knock-down drag-out argument.

(1) With that said, the first position which I have to take is on the issue of orthodoxy: how much does it really matter? Should I advocate a position of orthopraxy instead (to one degree or another), a position which allows for competing "conversations" (such as the emergent church or Anglicanism), or is there a specific truth to which I need to hold and to which I should be encouraging others to hold?

If I am to avoid RC, then this is where I need to get off; either at orthopraxy or conversation. Neither of these options really satisfy me, however. Orthopraxy seems to require beliefs as much as orthodoxy, both about what to do and why we should do it. So I'm not sure concerning the extent to which the two can be separated; they are different in degree, maybe, but not in kind. The emergent church could be a possibility, given our present circumstances and the difficulty in coming to any sort of conclusion, but who are the conversation partners? If one person thinks that Jesus is God and another that Jesus was just a good person, is it ok to simply disagree and move on within a church setting? And I'm not sure that Anglicanism can get away with glancing at the church tradition selectively. It's probably the best option of the above if I want to preserve some sense of orthodoxy, but whether or not the Via Media can hold up rationally (I think it might be able to), it's tearing me apart existentially.

In addition to this, there is the position of those like Paul and John within the church. They may not have had complete theologies, but they preached what they had as if it were important to believe those specific things. They treated the specific points in theology as important, and so churches which back off of the orthodoxy issue don't seem to line up with the NT. It was important for Paul that churches hold onto the tradition which he gave to them, and not "merely" love each other (though the latter was rather important as well).

However, given all of this, I will still have to do more work on this area. These are just my preliminary thoughts on the matter.

(2) So, we've decided on orthodoxy; that is, a church that takes a clear stance on the relevant issues. Within this, we have Catholicism and Protestantism for now; we can throw in Orthodoxy to the Catholic side for this discussion. My problem is that I can't see how Protestantism has any legitimate authority.

Protestantism rests on the ability of people to read the Scripture on its own; failing that, we could have a priesthood of scholars deciding theology. But, this was the position that Germany took, with the results that followed. So, we must look at the interpretation of Scripture by everyone. Why should we assume that this is possible? I don't see this being affirmed in Scripture anywhere; in no place does it affirm its own perspicuity, or that individual interpretation is valid. I don't see this being carried out empirically; churches split, and everyone reads what is right in her own eyes. I don't see this being possible linguistically; texts are read in interpretative communities, as the early church could tell us (this doesn't need to come from postmodern literary criticism). It may be, despite all of this, that perspicuity of Scripture is possible, but I want to see some reason for thinking it true.

It may here be argued that I am making a straw man for myself, that Protestantism can hold to some tradition; it cries "sola scriptura," not "scriptura nuda." This is all well and good, but where does the interpretation of Scripture come from which critiques its own reading? We can decide to have another interpretive community, but why think that it got things right? If the Reformers actually did hit on the correct interpretation, then we could be all well and good, but the point of the posts De fide and De operibus were precisely to show that the Reformers got their categories wrong, and were not trustworthy interpreters.

Next, I would like the see that Scripture itself were complete enough to critique any interpretive community which had been reading it. However, everything in the NT is occasional. Yes, I even take Romans to be a letter addressing a specific issue, albeit more systematically than Paul's other letters. These are letters written to the churches which have already received the truth through the preaching and sharing of the various missionaries. The texts then are complements; they might touch on every relevant point of faith, but I can see places in them where there are issues which are not discussed in sufficient detail (baptism and the laying on of hands, for example, seem to have more behind them then is mentioned; and Paul himself tells people to hold to the traditions which he had handed down, presumably before the letter itself). Given all of this, I find it hard to believe that we have the whole story completely in written form. If this is true, though, then where do we go for the rest? Is it honest to plunder tradition for a couple nuggets as needed, but ignore it when it stresses things like the unity of the church?

Finally, what makes Protestants so different from, say, the Arians? The Arians thought that they had the Scriptural high ground in their own interpretation. They believed this as much as and Protestant does. They probably weren't any worse it their reading. But, in the end, we all want to deny their view, Protestant as well as Catholic. How can I affirm this, though, and then turn around and allow the private interpretation of Scripture for the Protestant? If I allow for the early ecumenical councils, though, at what point do I stop and say, "This tradition is now invalid?" Would this be any different?

(3) So, if Protestantism is having problems, what can I say about Catholicism? It's not that I completely agree with RC, but my initial problems are melting away as I learn what their real beliefs are.

As far as the concept of tradition goes, despite the language used at the council of Trent which suggests that tradition and Scripture are two sources of revelation, the general view which I have seen through RC history and most recently in Vatican II is that tradition, church, and Scripture cannot be completely taken apart. There was a deposit given from Christ to the apostles, who in turn passed it on to the church through their appointed successors. This consisted both of writings and the apostles' teaching; not as if there were some additional, secret teaching given beyond what was written, but as stated before the writings are occasional and building off of the initial preaching and building up. The Scriptures are sufficient for salvation, but this does not entail that they can be read by themselves; they must be read as the deposit given the church by the apostles, in light of the meaning given through the community.

So, the next question becomes: why did this not become one vast game of telephone? And, naturally speaking, there is no reason to think that it has not. However, if God has not guided his people in one form or another throughout the years, then what can we hope for in matters of doctrine? The Protestant answer I find to be lacking, and quite honestly it appears to by a mere rationalism to allow for the Protestant way of life. I am somewhat skeptical of the Catholic answer, but I will allow that it has a greater potential to be true.

The next question becomes, are there any doctrines which I find to be especially pernicious? That is, that not only do I disagree with them, but that I find them downright dangerous? The more I look into matters, the less I find this to be the case. The pope may be infallible, but this is through the power of God and not simply as a human being; in addition, such infallibility does not lead to the right to give new revelation, but only to draw out of what has already been given. The immaculate conception may still be a stumbling point, but at least Mary was cleaned of the taint of original sin only through the work of Christ, and so is a type, an exemplar of the church rather than a naturally perfect human being. And as given in my posts De fide and De operibus, I think that Scripture is actually more coherent with a stronger interpretation of "works" than what many Protestants allow.

So, with all of this, I would not choose RC completely on its own. However, I see the following situation: There is an A, Christianity, which I believe to be true. Further, A comes in two forms: P and C, where P entails not-C and C entails not-P. As far as my open options go, these are the only two forms available to me. I am not sure about either P or C, but I think that P is beset with innumerable, intractable problems, while C is at least possible (whether or not it is probable). There is a possible line of transmission for the beliefs in question for C, and this breaks down in P. In addition, C doesn't seem to contain any doctrines that break down A, and so is a valid form of A. Therefore, even if I don't prima facie see how C is true, as long as I think that A is true, P is most likely false, and C is possible, than I have to go with C.

(4) The above have mainly been my rational inclinations. I will now jot down a few existential considerations, things which have been bugging me continually and which make me want to make the change.

First, I am tired of the disunity within Protestantism. It may not be quite as bad as RC makes it out to be, and I myself even used to argue that it was only on the surface, but I'm really doubting that now. Churches split, different theologies are everywhere, and there is sometimes little common ground, even within evangelicalism. Theological views are coined to justify different positions, rather than with any real plausibility. For someone who has become subjectively convinced of a view, this may not be an issue, but I'm forever on the outside, never able to take the (to my mind) intellectually dishonest moves which settle the arguments.

Second, the anti-intellectual trends in evangelicalism. I go to a school with pastors, who simply want to go out and "preach Jesus." They don't really want to understand their views, they don't want to know why what the teach is true, they just want to get out there with a pre-packaged view and hand that off to others. And this is at one of the top evangelical seminaries in the country. In no other job would I want a candidate who cared so little about understanding the prerequisites! Another generation of churches will be fed poor views about Scripture, about faith, about God, and so on, because some people can't be bothered to wrestle through the issues. And in all of this, I am again left out on the side. I'm told that doctrine matters, but that those who really try to understand will get it wrong unless they say what everyone else is saying. It has come to the point where "sola scriptura" and "sola fide" are more important than whether the bible teaches these things. The impact of all of this is that people really don't seem to work well without some sort of tradition, and will manufacture one for themselves (without acknowledging it) if it is denied them (again, I realize that a proper Protestant view of tradition is better than this, but I think the problem remains even once details are worked out). I simply say that the traditions which I see around me are illegitimate at their core.

Third, the flip side of the previous point is that I feel a debt of gratitude toward RC, as being the place where I actually find some intellectual (and therefore, for me, part of my spiritual) sustenance. I have been offered thin gruel within Protestantism, with a single loaf of bread being regarded as a feast. Some new movements, which pull from modern thoughts on hermeneutics (such as with Treier and Vanhoozer) and which don't shove everything into a shallow system of logic, are doing something about this, but I feel that it is too late for me to really jump back in. Too many uninsightful arguments for inerrancy, too many proof-texts which treat the Bible like a text of science or philosophy, have had their toll.

(5) With all of the above said, I now open this post up to comments. I've seen what happens to posts like this, so I am establishing some ground rules. Ignore these, and face deletion. Forgive me for being a trifle blunt, but some of these issues have really rankled me in the past, so humor me if nothing else:

1. The words "fallen from grace" will not appear in any posts. If you wish to make this point, go back and read the posts under the "Bible" label and comment on those. I will still disagree with it, but at least then we can discuss what Scripture actually says about grace, faith, and works, and not what some have pulled from a single verse.
2. If you haven't heard about what Catholicism teaches from a Catholic source (preferably either an official source or an educated Catholic), then you don't know what Catholicism teaches. Ask questions, but don't assume that you've got it down.
3. Any Bible passage needs to be exegeted and placed in context if it is to make a substantial point. Yes, you may think that your passage says one thing, but many other people who have read the Bible at least as much as you have thought differently. Make a case.
4. Similarly, no Bible passage has a clear meaning when it comes to this topic. If you think it does, it's nice to have an opinion, but the clarity of the verse isn't particularly clear. See the previous point.

Defense of LFW, Part III

I'll try not to post too many more things this week; I'm just trying to get some of my thoughts down while they are here. Here is the promised third installment of the "Defense of LFW" series (you can get to the previous two posts through the labels). There should be two more parts coming; they're more or less done, but I have enough stuff on here for the moment.

Scotus’ ethical theory has attracted notice as of late due to its nature as an intriguing version of voluntarism (or something close to it). What is right, is right because God says it, except for the fundamental axiom that God must be loved (which Scotus takes to be analytically true) and whatever follows from that. In particular, no act which has as its recipients contingent beings could be necessarily right; God could always in theory violate any given standard, as the finite goodness of a creature vanishes in light of the infinite goodness of God. However, in actuality God’s justice leads God to set up the world in a way which is conducive to the good of creatures, a way which is appropriate to their given natures. God is gracious toward creation due to his justice, but God is not determined by his justice to do good to creation. It is difficult to say how this fits together, and unlike some of the other examples which I will give it does not lend itself to analysis of our own experience, but it does seem to hold together intuitions both of God’s goodness in acting the way he does as well as the purely gracious aspect of what God does.

Next, Scotus believes that God commands what is right, but in an orderly fashion. So much so, in fact, that Scotus can build a natural law ethic of sorts. What I want to note here is the harmonious nature of the right for Scotus. He compares this harmony to that of beauty:

One could say that just as beauty is not some absolute quality in a beautiful body, but a combination of all that is in harmony with such a body (such as size, figure, and color), and a combination of all aspects (that pertain to all that is agreeable to such a body and are in harmony with one another), so the moral goodness of an act is a kind of decor it has, including a combination of due proportion to all to which it should be proportioned. (Duns Scotus on Freedom and the Will, p. 167)

Because of this, what is right can be improvised based on the situation, but still in tune with the nature of things. For example, Scotus says that marriage has two ends. The first is that of procreation, and the second is that of commutative justice between spouses. Because of this, it was permitted that the patriarchs and others could have multiple wives, as there was a need for rapid population growth. It is even possible that God would allow polygamy again in response to a great disaster. However, in the meantime, it is better for there to be only one spouse of each sex. This is because when all other things are equal, it is best for the husband and wife to have equal enjoyment of each other. Scotus also cites cases such as that of private ownership as examples of what is harmonious with other things, though not determined to be good:

Given the principle of positive law that life in a community or state ought to be peaceful, it does not follow from this necessarily that everyone ought to have possessions distinct from those of another. . . nevertheless, that such persons [e.g. the infirm] have their own possessions is exceedingly consonant with peaceful living. (Duns Scotus on F&W, p. 204)

It may be objected that the marriage example does not really substantiate my point. After all, we can determine whether the situation calls for the primary purpose of marriage trumping the secondary purpose. I would have two responses to make. First, there is nothing to suggest that the situation determines the response; there is still room for a judgement which is harmonious with other factors rather than determined. There may be situations, for example, in which it would be right to have private property, but also right to not have private property, and these for different reasons. Second, it raises the question of situations in which there are multiple ends to be realized which cannot be ranked.

De operibus

Ok, so now that I've posted my thoughts on faith, works are the logical next step. Before I start, though, I should place some parameters on what I am going to say; I don't have this all worked out, and I don't know how to fit the pieces together, but I think that there is enough to look into this. Everything that follows must also be viewed in connection with the working of God in the believer's life, and the necessity of Christ's work. I do not intend to say that "works" would function in the same way without any of this, or without faith as mentioned in the last post.

Too often, I see a dichotomy of works vs. grace, or works vs. faith, or our works vs. God's works. This is one of the biggest things which is pushing me out of conservative Protestant thought in one direction or another: too much of an uncritical reliance on using the categories developed around the time of the Reformation. So, I propose the following research program instead: we should view the role of our own effort in line with the Old Testament, with added stuff about the atonement, the Holy Spirit, and so on. This is to say, that the fundamental opposition is between ritualistic works (and those done merely as rituals, not the fact that they are rituals) and mercy, love, justice, etc.

I think that there is a lot going for this. Jesus did not tell people to stop obeying the law, even in its finer points. In fact, when talking to the Pharisees, he told them that when they tithe their spices and what not, that they should have paid attention to justice and mercy without forgoing the minor details. I do not mean to say that we should follow the OT law, but rather that we should look at what Jesus was changing the focus to.

Paul speaks of the conflict between the flesh and the (S|s)pirit. I would suggest that, instead of reading this as any human effort vs. divine effort, that we look at it as works done for ritualistic purposes (sacrifices, prayers, and so on) instead of works done according to the life Jesus has revealed (which is not to deny divine aid while so doing), which is again in line with the OT. Similarly, other contrasts in Paul can be seen as law vs. love, and our own rituals vs. the gracious way of life which God has provided, and graciously has willed to help us lead. I cannot make God do what I want through set actions; however, I can give up making God do what I want and instead live as God wants me to live. This way of life even has been provided by God, so how can I boast about it? I didn't discover it, and it challenges my prior way of like completely.

I don't know how to tie this into other threads running through the NT, but I do find this a more satisfying reading than the typical Reformed version. I no longer have to fudge my way through passages such as "Work out your salvation with fear and trembling;" I can acknowledge the full force of Jesus' teaching and the exhortations in 1 John without laying over it a reading which is not given in the text. In addition, I think that this reading makes sense of most typically Reformed passages at least as well as the Reformers have done, and it is inspired by OT themes rather than 16th century European philosophy (though, of course it is also filtered through 21st century American thought as well; I just hope that that isn't the major part). It continues the line given by the New Perspective on Paul, but goes beyond some of the criticisms which I have seen (namely, that the New Perspective narrows the law to merely a badge of national identity, while the church is meant to be for all peoples).

Edit: I think I've found a way of expressing what I mean more precisely. I am arguing for one of two things: either a synergistic view, which holds together the works of God and man and repudiates both the Pelagian monergism as well as a purely divine monergism (of course, synergism covers a pretty broad range, but I don't intend to narrow that too much at the present moment); or a phenomenalistic view, which scraps the metaphysics for the moment and discusses things from the experience of the believer (whether determined or not, that act sure feels like it's taking effort). I think that both have some validity; a proper synergism (which includes God and man working together at one and the same time, rather than part and part) would make sense of Scripture, but I also hold that Scripture doesn't talk about metaphysics most of the time.

De fide

I really need to be working through some theological issues on a more detailed level, so I will be posting here my intial thoughts in hopes that people can correct me where I'm wrong. My first post here is on faith, though it will deal significantly with the notion of works as well. Faith must be, to some extent, a cognitive phenomenon; after all, "we walk by faith and not by sight." But I think that making it predominantly cognitive (even if we're talking "heart-knowledge") is incompatible with Scripture and creates a host of problems in actually living it out. The latter has do with most of my earlier rants concerning the church, so I won't repeat it here unless someones wants a summarized, cleaned-up form.

Faith cannot be equated with our acts, but it stands in a tighter relation to them than simply a sufficient condition. Paul, in the final chapter in Galatians (of all books), says that the only thing that counts is faith expressing itself in love. The passage in James which talks about a person showing his faith by what he does is well-known. The faith of Abraham is his journeying, and the faith of the people coming to Jesus to be healed is their coming in the first place.

The point is that the model cannot be (a) have faith, (b) do good works. It can't be simply the works either, but the works are non-dual with the faith. They are the expression of that faith, without which there is no faith; not as in the contrapositive to "faith implies good works," but in the direct removal of faith. The works are the particulars in which faith is embodied, and in which faith exists, though it could also have existed in other works.

Lest this point seem to be simple hair-splitting, I'll jot down my thoughts on why the distinction is important. If faith is just the condition for works, then our response should be one of quietism. We should put aside our human efforts in order to let God work. If works are the direct expression of faith, then we must exert effort in trust that God will come alongside and work with us in the exertion. This leads to the (planned) next discussion, on usage of "human effort," "works," and "flesh."