Have I mentioned that I hate politics? Well, I do.
Being the product of two political scientists, it perhaps ironic (or, to some, understandable in that sense of "teenage rebellion"), but it's honestly hard to love with the country's current state of being. I am disgusted, really, but I am told this "disgust" with both parties is simply because I am a disaffected youngster who attends a college with a large population of anachists. So being an idealist, or, more accurately, a dreamer is immature? Frankly, I see it as quick satisfying. Let God's will be done, whatever that may be. I do want to take a stand, do something for the benefit of others, but sometimes there are things we cannot change. This latter point is precisely why I dream. It will never come true, so what, sir, is the harm?!
I know Oddly, I am looking forward to voting for the first time.
Went to Russia this summer. If I knew the language, I would move there, but, alas, Canada is looking a bit easier at the moment...
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Ousia kai Energeiai (Essence and Energies) in the Triads of St. Gregory Palamas
(Another paper. Why? Because I felt like it!)
In order to understand St. Gregory Palamas’ ideas, it is necessary to understand and acknowledge the impact of two individuals upon his thought – to wit, that of his contemporary and theological opponent Barlaam of Calabria, as well as that of the famous neo-Platonic author of Mystical Theology and On the Divine Names; that is, Dionysius the Areopagite (referred to here as Pseudo-Dionysius because of the texts’ pseudephigraphical authorship). The prior was the originator of the issue combated by St. Palamas: Barlaam’s denial of the uncreated nature of the divine energies, akin to some Roman Catholic Scholastic theologians’ opinion of these energies as created substance given freely (Lt.: gratis data). The latter, however, was perchance the most deeply influential thinker with regard to this particular mystical-theological argument, although it is not at all any need to discriminate for this reason against the other Fathers mentioned in the Triads. In brief, it could be said that St. Gregory founded his argument against Barlaam’s strict rationalism using those “tools” provided by the Fathers, most notably the Neo-Platonic mysticism and metaphysics of Pseudo-Dionysius.
The question St. Gregory sets out to answer is: “Is only the divine essence without beginning, whereas everything apart from it is of a created nature?” – and, if so, is “this essence…all-powerful” (93)? Would this essence (ousia) “possess the faculties of knowing, of prescience, of creating, of embracing all things in itself?” Does it, in other words, “possess providence, the power of deification and, in a word, all such faculties, or not” (93)? If the answer is a clear “no,” then said essence is not “God,” nor is it “God-like.” Barlaam’s theology, hence, would fail to explain the intrinsic nature of the Godhead. But if the essence of the Godhead were in full possession of these properties “from eternity,” then not only would the essence be “unoriginate, but that each of its powers…also” (93). The sections following are devoted to addressing St. Palamas’ claim at the end of section 5: “For just as there is only one single essence without beginning, the essence of God…in the same way, there is only one single providential power without beginning, namely that of God whereas as all other powers apart from it are of a created nature…” (93). Hence, Barlaam’s proclamation of the essence as the only unoriginate aspect of God is inescapably false and unfounded. This paper shall attempt to unfold St. Palamas’ argument and understanding of the metaphysical properties of both God’s essence and energies.
Before distinguishing between the eternal essence (ousia) of God and His “energies” (energeiai, also known as “natural energies”), it is necessary to describe in detail what: a) the energies are, and b) what their relation is – if there is to be such a relation – to man and/or creation in general. In brief, the “energies” of God are considered in Orthodox theology as equivalent with God’s works/action within the temporal world as well as His grace. Nonetheless, some examples the saint offers us include God’s “foreknowledge, will, providence, contemplation of Himself,” virtue, and existence (94). There was never a time when these did not exist; on the contrary, because they are of God and are not of a created nature, they were with Him ab aeterno. In accordance with the writing of St. Maximus, St. Gregory notes that while these may have an origin in time (e.g. when these are manifested in the temporal realm through God’s works/activity, for to one established within the temporal realm would perceive a specific “beginning” to such works), they yet remain unoriginate and therefore uncreated due to their participation in the divine essence. In other words, “‘non-being is not [and cannot be] anterior to virtue…nor to any other of the realities mentioned before, since they have God as the eternal and absolutely unique originator of their being’” (95). God has thus established these powers, notes St. Palamas in reference to Pseudo-Dionysius, but the statement is only true in reference to the existence of the powers and not their mode. Like the hypostatic individuation of the Son, these powers were founded as a “hypostasis,” or, in simpler terms, as an “establishment” (102).
Yet none of these energies are, however, true descriptions of the essence (ousia) of God. As noted by St. Gregory’s oft-quoted theologian and ecclesiastical writer (i.e., Pseudo-Dionysius): “None of these things can be either identified with it or attributed unto It” (99). God transcends these energies “‘to an infinite degree and an infinite number of times’” (96; quote from St. Maximus); hence, the “superessential essence of God is…not to be identified with the energies, even with those without beginning” (96; emphasis added). Therefore, cataphatic theology (i.e., positive assertions regarding the properties of God), can speak only of the energies of God, for these are not beyond positive proclamations and can likewise be understood in this manner insofar as they are experienced and known in the Christian life. As Pseudo-Dionysius points out, to call Him “God,” “Life,” “Essence,” “Light,” or “Word” is in effect to reference these energies alone (98). Even the term “essence” identifies but one of God’s eternally-proceeding energies, making Barlaam’s statement that the “essence alone is uncreated” irrational and illogical inasmuch as this would designate the uncreated nature to but one power while systematically demystifying the others.
The “deifying powers” or grace are participatory and provide mankind with an opportunity for deification, and, hence, salvation. “Deification,” however, is not to be understood as becoming God by nature via active participation with the ousia of God, but rather according to energy. These powers also provide mankind with the opportunity to participate and experience the glory of the Transcendent One. The “rays” of the divine energies, granted, are only visible to those who are “worthy,” and, although they are, according to Tradition, potentially very palpable to His creation, they are nevertheless “distinct from all creatures in [their] transcendence” of both the intellect and the senses (100). For instance, the Transfiguration on Mount Tabor (Matthew 17:1-9, Mark 9:2-8, and Luke 9:28-36) was, for the Apostles, a vision of the divine energies, or, in St. Gregory Palamas’ words, it was “the superluminous splendor of the beauty of the Archetype [i.e. God]; the very formless form of the divine loveliness, which deifies man and makes him worthy of personal converse with God…” (106). They saw, to wit, “the same grace of the Spirit which would later dwell in them” (106). Nevertheless, the Apostles did not and could not witness the unbound and impalpable essence of God, which remained and still remains beyond all things, irrespective of one’s nearness to theosis or so-called “state of grace.” Instead, the nature of the experience marks it as a contemplation of God’s energies, since it is characterized by contemplation and, at least to a degree, visual experience (at least insofar as it can be said that the Apostles “saw” the eternal light radiating from the Word).
In contrast to Barlaam’s Alexandrian school of understanding (a school dominated by somewhat Origenistic thinkers insofar as they believed contact with the divine to be primarily experienced through intellectual activity, and not through the senses), St. Gregory – especially in his teaching on the hesychastic method of prayer – understands the “rays” or noetic “illuminations” therein as having a clearly spiritual quality. In order to outline the nature of this union, St. Gregory begins with the following analogy in section 14: “[E]very union is through contact, sensible in the realm of sense perception, intellectual in that of intellect” (100). Because there is, in fact, “union with these illuminations” – as is known from the lives of the saints and Biblical history – “there must be contact with them, of an intellectual, or rather a spiritual kind” (100; emphasis added). Perhaps, however, usage of the term “intellectual unity” would be misleading. The unity is attained in a manner distinct from the realm of intellectual and physical sensations, and, while the rays of these divine energies are indeed visible to those who are worthy, the spiritual light transcends the capacity of the intellectual and sensual faculties of any finite being – and this, because it cannot be described as possessing the attributes necessary for either of the aforesaid capacities, due to its transcendent and heavenly nature. Thus, it “is neither a sensation nor an intellection, but is a spiritual power, distinct from all created cognitive faculties in its transcendence, and made present by grace in rational natures which have been purified” (100; emphasis added).
Had these energies been creations in the strictest sense (in other words, having a definite beginning in time), they would most likely be perceptible to either the intellectual or sensual faculties of rational creatures. However, we find that this characteristic is not present (as stated in the above paragraph), for it is evident that the “rays” of the divine energies are of a spiritual nature. They may be accessible to the intellect – as our saint points out, citing St. Basil the Great – but they “transcend,” and to an infinite degree. Thus, they are unoriginate, and thereby able to describe to originated beings, as much as possible, the very nature of Him to whom they belong (and Gregory shows his Patristic brilliance here, inasmuch as this is the very cornerstone of a balanced Chalcedonian Orthodox perspective – i.e., God’s energies are incarnational; see John 1:18). Possessing a spiritual nature, it is necessary for beings to rely on the precedence of existence of a higher and hyper-existent Power to imbue them with the ability to exist in the first place. That is why the divine light can only be “contemplated by those deemed worthy” (101). For while the man contemplating these glorious rays of divine energy has a beginning, the light does not (ironically, in more Scholastic terms, it could be said that the rays are, like God, ens a se while we are ens ab alio); hence, they are not the same in nature, and, therefore, understanding and contemplation must be a function of the divine.
Little, however, can be said of God’s essence or nature (which terms, with regard to questions of the divine ousia, are usually synonymous in post-Chalcedonian theological dialectic). Ousia, as term designated for the ontological category of the Godhead, does refer to the nature of an individual existence, but God’s existence – i.e. His own essence – transcends all these principles, which gives rise to the use of the term “Superessential Godhead” (hyperousios thearchia). The Godhead is superessential inasmuch as it transcends even those energies that are comprehensible to the human nous, as is shown in the citation from St. Maximus the Confessor (preceding paragraph). As stated earlier, the names applied to God’s energies are by no means valid depictions of His essence, even as the rays coming forth from the sun are not, for example, the essence of the sun in and of itself. “[T]his essence,” in other words, “transcends all affirmation and all negation” (98), and therein lies the very reason it cannot be named.
In conclusion, St. Palamas’ explication of God’s knowable energies and His unapproachable essence establishes the principles essential to an Orthodox understanding of not only of these specific metaphysical properties proper to the Godhead, as well as key distinctions in soteriology and apophatic versus cataphatic theological catagories. The assertion of energies as uncreated is necessary for St. Palamas’ mode of hesychastic prayer, for it is founded upon the idea that 1) deification results from a transformation of the mind and body due to an encounter with the Transcendent One; 2) there must be a part of God that is participial; 3) the nature of man remains the same, and, likewise, the nature of God remains as it is, was, and ever shall be. Firstly, to claim the essence of God is what deifies man would be to claim that the nature of man – and of God, who is, of course, above him – would change into something it could never be (i.e. to claim that God’s essence or nature were a created being). Secondly, to claim God’s essence/nature was something man could take on himself would be to degrade the divine. Thirdly, if man were unable to participate in the divine to any degree, his salvation would thereby become, for all intents and purposes, highly improbable if not functionally impossible. In fine, St. Gregory's distinction against the Barlaamites between the categories of essence and energies in the Godhead is one that proves itself not only theologically cogent, but also time-tested by the experience of the monks of the Holy Mountain as well as by the immemorial Patristic tradition as it had been received in the East.
In order to understand St. Gregory Palamas’ ideas, it is necessary to understand and acknowledge the impact of two individuals upon his thought – to wit, that of his contemporary and theological opponent Barlaam of Calabria, as well as that of the famous neo-Platonic author of Mystical Theology and On the Divine Names; that is, Dionysius the Areopagite (referred to here as Pseudo-Dionysius because of the texts’ pseudephigraphical authorship). The prior was the originator of the issue combated by St. Palamas: Barlaam’s denial of the uncreated nature of the divine energies, akin to some Roman Catholic Scholastic theologians’ opinion of these energies as created substance given freely (Lt.: gratis data). The latter, however, was perchance the most deeply influential thinker with regard to this particular mystical-theological argument, although it is not at all any need to discriminate for this reason against the other Fathers mentioned in the Triads. In brief, it could be said that St. Gregory founded his argument against Barlaam’s strict rationalism using those “tools” provided by the Fathers, most notably the Neo-Platonic mysticism and metaphysics of Pseudo-Dionysius.
The question St. Gregory sets out to answer is: “Is only the divine essence without beginning, whereas everything apart from it is of a created nature?” – and, if so, is “this essence…all-powerful” (93)? Would this essence (ousia) “possess the faculties of knowing, of prescience, of creating, of embracing all things in itself?” Does it, in other words, “possess providence, the power of deification and, in a word, all such faculties, or not” (93)? If the answer is a clear “no,” then said essence is not “God,” nor is it “God-like.” Barlaam’s theology, hence, would fail to explain the intrinsic nature of the Godhead. But if the essence of the Godhead were in full possession of these properties “from eternity,” then not only would the essence be “unoriginate, but that each of its powers…also” (93). The sections following are devoted to addressing St. Palamas’ claim at the end of section 5: “For just as there is only one single essence without beginning, the essence of God…in the same way, there is only one single providential power without beginning, namely that of God whereas as all other powers apart from it are of a created nature…” (93). Hence, Barlaam’s proclamation of the essence as the only unoriginate aspect of God is inescapably false and unfounded. This paper shall attempt to unfold St. Palamas’ argument and understanding of the metaphysical properties of both God’s essence and energies.
Before distinguishing between the eternal essence (ousia) of God and His “energies” (energeiai, also known as “natural energies”), it is necessary to describe in detail what: a) the energies are, and b) what their relation is – if there is to be such a relation – to man and/or creation in general. In brief, the “energies” of God are considered in Orthodox theology as equivalent with God’s works/action within the temporal world as well as His grace. Nonetheless, some examples the saint offers us include God’s “foreknowledge, will, providence, contemplation of Himself,” virtue, and existence (94). There was never a time when these did not exist; on the contrary, because they are of God and are not of a created nature, they were with Him ab aeterno. In accordance with the writing of St. Maximus, St. Gregory notes that while these may have an origin in time (e.g. when these are manifested in the temporal realm through God’s works/activity, for to one established within the temporal realm would perceive a specific “beginning” to such works), they yet remain unoriginate and therefore uncreated due to their participation in the divine essence. In other words, “‘non-being is not [and cannot be] anterior to virtue…nor to any other of the realities mentioned before, since they have God as the eternal and absolutely unique originator of their being’” (95). God has thus established these powers, notes St. Palamas in reference to Pseudo-Dionysius, but the statement is only true in reference to the existence of the powers and not their mode. Like the hypostatic individuation of the Son, these powers were founded as a “hypostasis,” or, in simpler terms, as an “establishment” (102).
Yet none of these energies are, however, true descriptions of the essence (ousia) of God. As noted by St. Gregory’s oft-quoted theologian and ecclesiastical writer (i.e., Pseudo-Dionysius): “None of these things can be either identified with it or attributed unto It” (99). God transcends these energies “‘to an infinite degree and an infinite number of times’” (96; quote from St. Maximus); hence, the “superessential essence of God is…not to be identified with the energies, even with those without beginning” (96; emphasis added). Therefore, cataphatic theology (i.e., positive assertions regarding the properties of God), can speak only of the energies of God, for these are not beyond positive proclamations and can likewise be understood in this manner insofar as they are experienced and known in the Christian life. As Pseudo-Dionysius points out, to call Him “God,” “Life,” “Essence,” “Light,” or “Word” is in effect to reference these energies alone (98). Even the term “essence” identifies but one of God’s eternally-proceeding energies, making Barlaam’s statement that the “essence alone is uncreated” irrational and illogical inasmuch as this would designate the uncreated nature to but one power while systematically demystifying the others.
The “deifying powers” or grace are participatory and provide mankind with an opportunity for deification, and, hence, salvation. “Deification,” however, is not to be understood as becoming God by nature via active participation with the ousia of God, but rather according to energy. These powers also provide mankind with the opportunity to participate and experience the glory of the Transcendent One. The “rays” of the divine energies, granted, are only visible to those who are “worthy,” and, although they are, according to Tradition, potentially very palpable to His creation, they are nevertheless “distinct from all creatures in [their] transcendence” of both the intellect and the senses (100). For instance, the Transfiguration on Mount Tabor (Matthew 17:1-9, Mark 9:2-8, and Luke 9:28-36) was, for the Apostles, a vision of the divine energies, or, in St. Gregory Palamas’ words, it was “the superluminous splendor of the beauty of the Archetype [i.e. God]; the very formless form of the divine loveliness, which deifies man and makes him worthy of personal converse with God…” (106). They saw, to wit, “the same grace of the Spirit which would later dwell in them” (106). Nevertheless, the Apostles did not and could not witness the unbound and impalpable essence of God, which remained and still remains beyond all things, irrespective of one’s nearness to theosis or so-called “state of grace.” Instead, the nature of the experience marks it as a contemplation of God’s energies, since it is characterized by contemplation and, at least to a degree, visual experience (at least insofar as it can be said that the Apostles “saw” the eternal light radiating from the Word).
In contrast to Barlaam’s Alexandrian school of understanding (a school dominated by somewhat Origenistic thinkers insofar as they believed contact with the divine to be primarily experienced through intellectual activity, and not through the senses), St. Gregory – especially in his teaching on the hesychastic method of prayer – understands the “rays” or noetic “illuminations” therein as having a clearly spiritual quality. In order to outline the nature of this union, St. Gregory begins with the following analogy in section 14: “[E]very union is through contact, sensible in the realm of sense perception, intellectual in that of intellect” (100). Because there is, in fact, “union with these illuminations” – as is known from the lives of the saints and Biblical history – “there must be contact with them, of an intellectual, or rather a spiritual kind” (100; emphasis added). Perhaps, however, usage of the term “intellectual unity” would be misleading. The unity is attained in a manner distinct from the realm of intellectual and physical sensations, and, while the rays of these divine energies are indeed visible to those who are worthy, the spiritual light transcends the capacity of the intellectual and sensual faculties of any finite being – and this, because it cannot be described as possessing the attributes necessary for either of the aforesaid capacities, due to its transcendent and heavenly nature. Thus, it “is neither a sensation nor an intellection, but is a spiritual power, distinct from all created cognitive faculties in its transcendence, and made present by grace in rational natures which have been purified” (100; emphasis added).
Had these energies been creations in the strictest sense (in other words, having a definite beginning in time), they would most likely be perceptible to either the intellectual or sensual faculties of rational creatures. However, we find that this characteristic is not present (as stated in the above paragraph), for it is evident that the “rays” of the divine energies are of a spiritual nature. They may be accessible to the intellect – as our saint points out, citing St. Basil the Great – but they “transcend,” and to an infinite degree. Thus, they are unoriginate, and thereby able to describe to originated beings, as much as possible, the very nature of Him to whom they belong (and Gregory shows his Patristic brilliance here, inasmuch as this is the very cornerstone of a balanced Chalcedonian Orthodox perspective – i.e., God’s energies are incarnational; see John 1:18). Possessing a spiritual nature, it is necessary for beings to rely on the precedence of existence of a higher and hyper-existent Power to imbue them with the ability to exist in the first place. That is why the divine light can only be “contemplated by those deemed worthy” (101). For while the man contemplating these glorious rays of divine energy has a beginning, the light does not (ironically, in more Scholastic terms, it could be said that the rays are, like God, ens a se while we are ens ab alio); hence, they are not the same in nature, and, therefore, understanding and contemplation must be a function of the divine.
Little, however, can be said of God’s essence or nature (which terms, with regard to questions of the divine ousia, are usually synonymous in post-Chalcedonian theological dialectic). Ousia, as term designated for the ontological category of the Godhead, does refer to the nature of an individual existence, but God’s existence – i.e. His own essence – transcends all these principles, which gives rise to the use of the term “Superessential Godhead” (hyperousios thearchia). The Godhead is superessential inasmuch as it transcends even those energies that are comprehensible to the human nous, as is shown in the citation from St. Maximus the Confessor (preceding paragraph). As stated earlier, the names applied to God’s energies are by no means valid depictions of His essence, even as the rays coming forth from the sun are not, for example, the essence of the sun in and of itself. “[T]his essence,” in other words, “transcends all affirmation and all negation” (98), and therein lies the very reason it cannot be named.
In conclusion, St. Palamas’ explication of God’s knowable energies and His unapproachable essence establishes the principles essential to an Orthodox understanding of not only of these specific metaphysical properties proper to the Godhead, as well as key distinctions in soteriology and apophatic versus cataphatic theological catagories. The assertion of energies as uncreated is necessary for St. Palamas’ mode of hesychastic prayer, for it is founded upon the idea that 1) deification results from a transformation of the mind and body due to an encounter with the Transcendent One; 2) there must be a part of God that is participial; 3) the nature of man remains the same, and, likewise, the nature of God remains as it is, was, and ever shall be. Firstly, to claim the essence of God is what deifies man would be to claim that the nature of man – and of God, who is, of course, above him – would change into something it could never be (i.e. to claim that God’s essence or nature were a created being). Secondly, to claim God’s essence/nature was something man could take on himself would be to degrade the divine. Thirdly, if man were unable to participate in the divine to any degree, his salvation would thereby become, for all intents and purposes, highly improbable if not functionally impossible. In fine, St. Gregory's distinction against the Barlaamites between the categories of essence and energies in the Godhead is one that proves itself not only theologically cogent, but also time-tested by the experience of the monks of the Holy Mountain as well as by the immemorial Patristic tradition as it had been received in the East.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
EXPELLED: No Intelligence Allowed and the Folly of Intelligent Design
I suppose the title covers an area too broad for me to cover after one cup of coffee, but the non-readers of this blog can just deal. Sorry.
So while I haven't seen Ben Stein's movie on how ID theorists are "persecuted" by the "Darwinian tyrants" in "Big Science," I do have a few things to say. For one, I would like to see this movie if only to rant angrily about it later. Per chance one could call me part of the Neo-Darwinist establishment, but, frankly, doing so would accomplish nothing.
So what is the "Neo-Darwinist" establishment that is "threatening" to overrule theism and all religion? Evidently its the "monopoly" on theories regarding the development of life from simple one-celled organisms to fabulously complex ones is unwarranted, at least according to the ID camp. Likewise, it is a theory that "obviously" promotes immorality (e.g., war, Hitler, racism, etc.), atheism, and self-righteous bigotry in the realm of the sciences and seeks to overcome the idea of an "Intelligent Designer." "Darwinism" (as it supposedly ought to be called despite the fact that evolutionary theory has developed greatly since the "Origin of Species") has seized the scientific community and turned them into monsters that seek to override religion and perhaps even God Himself.
Who, however, has claimed this? For one, the right-wing fundementalists, the militant atheists (i.e., Richard Dawkins et al.), and scientists who claim to see no proof for "evolution" and thus intend to attack it.
I have no issue with rationally defined Creationism insofar as it remains in the realm of metaphysics and theology. I do, however, have an issue (philosophically and theologically) with those who postulate a "negative" theory (i.e., one based on the denial of another) that tries to stand alone in the domain of science. Truth be told, Intelligent Design in its modern form CANNOT stand without Darwinism; that is, it rides on the assertion that Darwinism is false. God becomes the "God of the gaps," filling in wherever evidence cannot be provided. To wit, there is no evidence that macroevolution occurred; hence, it must be done by an "Intelligent Designer," for it is an "obvious" impossibility that life could come into being through a series of natural processes. Yet, the impossibility that life cannot come into existence through natural (as opposed to the supra-natural works of a Creator outside of space/time) rests on the "fact" that there is no proof to determine otherwise. That is to say, "life -- like the clock I found on the ground -- is so complex that there must have been a creator" or, in another form, "I see no physical evidence for the fact that life came into existence through natural means; therefore, a creator must be wrong." As much as I hate to say it, neither of these are adequate proofs for God's role in the creation process.
Part of why ID is antagonized so much is that it is not "science" in the strictest sense. For one, as I said before, it is not a "stand alone" theory per se, but rather rests on the idea that not enough evidence does and can exist to prove life came into being through natural means. Similarly, it rests on metaphysical claims that are beyond the realm of scientific thought. For example, while I can say "I (personally) see evidence for God in nature" (which I do) I cannot say God necessarily exists because of x, y, and z and claim it is science. It is part of God's nature that He is outside the natural world while nevertheless remaining the creator and an active participator in it.
I do want to see Ben Stein's movie. If anyone has, let me know if it is worth watching.
So while I haven't seen Ben Stein's movie on how ID theorists are "persecuted" by the "Darwinian tyrants" in "Big Science," I do have a few things to say. For one, I would like to see this movie if only to rant angrily about it later. Per chance one could call me part of the Neo-Darwinist establishment, but, frankly, doing so would accomplish nothing.
So what is the "Neo-Darwinist" establishment that is "threatening" to overrule theism and all religion? Evidently its the "monopoly" on theories regarding the development of life from simple one-celled organisms to fabulously complex ones is unwarranted, at least according to the ID camp. Likewise, it is a theory that "obviously" promotes immorality (e.g., war, Hitler, racism, etc.), atheism, and self-righteous bigotry in the realm of the sciences and seeks to overcome the idea of an "Intelligent Designer." "Darwinism" (as it supposedly ought to be called despite the fact that evolutionary theory has developed greatly since the "Origin of Species") has seized the scientific community and turned them into monsters that seek to override religion and perhaps even God Himself.
Who, however, has claimed this? For one, the right-wing fundementalists, the militant atheists (i.e., Richard Dawkins et al.), and scientists who claim to see no proof for "evolution" and thus intend to attack it.
I have no issue with rationally defined Creationism insofar as it remains in the realm of metaphysics and theology. I do, however, have an issue (philosophically and theologically) with those who postulate a "negative" theory (i.e., one based on the denial of another) that tries to stand alone in the domain of science. Truth be told, Intelligent Design in its modern form CANNOT stand without Darwinism; that is, it rides on the assertion that Darwinism is false. God becomes the "God of the gaps," filling in wherever evidence cannot be provided. To wit, there is no evidence that macroevolution occurred; hence, it must be done by an "Intelligent Designer," for it is an "obvious" impossibility that life could come into being through a series of natural processes. Yet, the impossibility that life cannot come into existence through natural (as opposed to the supra-natural works of a Creator outside of space/time) rests on the "fact" that there is no proof to determine otherwise. That is to say, "life -- like the clock I found on the ground -- is so complex that there must have been a creator" or, in another form, "I see no physical evidence for the fact that life came into existence through natural means; therefore, a creator must be wrong." As much as I hate to say it, neither of these are adequate proofs for God's role in the creation process.
Part of why ID is antagonized so much is that it is not "science" in the strictest sense. For one, as I said before, it is not a "stand alone" theory per se, but rather rests on the idea that not enough evidence does and can exist to prove life came into being through natural means. Similarly, it rests on metaphysical claims that are beyond the realm of scientific thought. For example, while I can say "I (personally) see evidence for God in nature" (which I do) I cannot say God necessarily exists because of x, y, and z and claim it is science. It is part of God's nature that He is outside the natural world while nevertheless remaining the creator and an active participator in it.
I do want to see Ben Stein's movie. If anyone has, let me know if it is worth watching.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Hah
Well, I did find this on someone else's web page, but it's funny nonetheless.
"Orthodox Christians: Until recently, most scholars agreed that Orthodox Christians didn’t really exist. Like werewolves, fairies and Romanians, they were simply a charming Old World fable designed to delight children with outlandish details regarding the rich, luxurious beards and interminable arguments about the proper interpretation of Greek words. Upon further reflection, some scholars now cautiously hazard the guess that there are roughly 250 million Orthodox Christians in the world, with a lineage stretching back to the earliest days of the Church. As for what these strange, chanting, hirsute folk actually believe, though, no one is yet confident enough to hazard a guess."
Romanians? Who are they?
Anyway.
"Orthodox Christians: Until recently, most scholars agreed that Orthodox Christians didn’t really exist. Like werewolves, fairies and Romanians, they were simply a charming Old World fable designed to delight children with outlandish details regarding the rich, luxurious beards and interminable arguments about the proper interpretation of Greek words. Upon further reflection, some scholars now cautiously hazard the guess that there are roughly 250 million Orthodox Christians in the world, with a lineage stretching back to the earliest days of the Church. As for what these strange, chanting, hirsute folk actually believe, though, no one is yet confident enough to hazard a guess."
Romanians? Who are they?
Anyway.
Friday, May 9, 2008
One Year Done
"I know that I know nothing" -- Plato's "Apology"
Too bad I don't act like it more often. Life would be much easier.
One year gone. Three years to go.
Looking forward to that month in Russia. :-)
Pax. Will write more later, seeing as I'm currently unemployed and without schoolwork.
Too bad I don't act like it more often. Life would be much easier.
One year gone. Three years to go.
Looking forward to that month in Russia. :-)
Pax. Will write more later, seeing as I'm currently unemployed and without schoolwork.
Monday, April 14, 2008
"I live alone, entirely alone. I never speak to anyone, never; I receive nothing, I give nothing… When you live alone you no longer know what it is to tell something: the plausible disappears at the same time as the friends. You let events flow past; suddenly you see people pop up who speak and who go away, you plunge into stories without beginning or end: you make a terrible witness. But in compensation, one misses nothing, no improbability or, story too tall to be believed in cafes." -- Jean-Paul Sartre, "The Nausea" (1959 ed.): pp. 14-15
Ahhh...
Ahhh...
Monday, March 31, 2008
Anti-Nestorian Apologetic in St. Cyril of Alexandria’s On the Unity of Christ
In the fifth century A.D., there arose yet another among the many theological conflicts during the Early Church era – this one centered primarily on the doctrines and person of the then-current Archbishop of Constantinople, Nestorius. Perhaps the issue was partly political – Nestorius was not well-liked in the area due to his somewhat aggressive policies regarding the monastic communities and morale in the city of Constantinople – but this question is, alas, not a point of interest in this paper. The essence of the conflict is found in the Christological teachings of the archbishop, which, to oversimplify, de-emphasized the “unity” of Christ’s person in His Incarnation (in other words, Nestorianism exaggerated the distinction between Christ’s Divine and Human natures – apart from a tenuous “prosopon [person] of union” – thus leading to the inevitable conclusion that she who gave birth to Christ Jesus the man could in no wise be rightly called “Theotokos” (Gk., “God-bearer”). Nestorius’ most famous critic was a certain Cyril of Alexandria (who is now, and for the purposes of this paper, a saint), whose most famous piece is entitled On the Unity of Christ. Although he fell out of favor in the West for some time, his devotion is continuously acknowledged in the Eastern Church. Regardless of his status, the matter in focus here will be St. Cyril’s rejection of the idea that the Word of God “assumed a man into an inseparable conjunction with himself, which thereby elevated him to the title of both ‘Son’ and ‘Lord.’”
St. Cyril’s first objection is one regarding terminology; to wit, he objects vehemently to Nestorius’ categorical definitions of “union” and “conjunction” as they pertain to the issue. The theological statements in question employ the term “inseparable conjunction” to describe the relationship between the human person of Jesus and the divinity of God the Word. St. Cyril, however, states that this particular word implies an uneasy relationship; that is, it does not properly acknowledge the cosmological importance of the event. In Christ there was “not an overlap, or a co-habitation, or a relationship, or a displacement, or an association” (40); rather, the “unification” – at least for St. Cyril – was one that did not “destroy the constituent elements” (40). In essence, “conjunction” would logically lead to the concept of “assumption” as posited by the Nestorian camp, thus asserting a rather loose connection in the person of the Divine Logos to an already-separate individual. Both these words, “assumption” and “conjunction,” are not strong enough if the Son must call the flesh His own in order to purify it. Instead, St. Cyril counter-proposes a use of the term “union” (henosis), which he defends as a more “extreme” form of conjunction that “in no way causes the confusion of the things it refers to, but rather signifies the concurrence in one reality of those things which are understood to be united” (73). According to this understanding, it can be said that:
“[T]he one assumed in the inseparable union has become the personal property of the one assuming, and while Jesus is God, the one and only true Son of God, the Word of God the Father… nonetheless the same one, in these last times of the present age, has been born of a woman according to the flesh, for the form of a slave belongs to no other but his very own” (75).
In other words, Cyril’s “union” shows itself something of a more formal bond in which it can truly be said that the flesh belonged to the Word. He had truly made the flesh – and therefore humanity – his own (Christ’s assumption of Human nature being, in Byzantine theology, a cornerstone of our common salvation equal to the ransom on the Cross). Assuming unity to be the goal sought after, it seems only proper to apply this term to Christ’s person, according to Cyril’s patently Alexandrian understanding of the word.
To say that the human person was “added” to the Word insofar as the Word Himself was not unified with the flesh – but rather “conjoined” to it – would be to invalidate the fullness of the Word Incarnate. “Christ…was fullness itself and there is absolutely nothing that is given to him insofar as he is considered…God” (91). The Nestorian camp would certainly agree with this; however, their error is in the eventual and inevitable degradation permitted by this pernicious doctrine. Hence, to proclaim that the person of Jesus became a wonder-worker by the indwelling of the Word would be tantamount to degrading the status of Christ to a mere “prophet,” at least “according to the Flesh.” It was the Prophets, Saints, and Apostles who so acted through the energy of the All-Holy Spirit. While Christ, too was “anointed” by the Spirit (Xristos meaning “anointed one”), the nature and properties of this so-called “gift” were intrinsically different, for “He was sanctified insofar as He was man, but sanctifies insofar as He is understood as God” (100). If the premise of “through Him all of mankind was sanctified” is accepted, it follows that the metaphysical properties of the anointing were radically different. In the case of the Messiahship of Jesus Christ, this calling has a greater significance than that of a prophetic anointing bestowed by the Lord on a single person – Christ being the God-Man, His anointing transcends these boundaries of individuality, inasmuch as, in taking on a true Human nature, he deified the entirety of the human race, thus, even as God, connecting in a deeper way with that bond uniting all of humanity.
The necessary ownership of the flesh in Christ is further exemplified in the Patristic antitype of Christ as the “Second Adam.” He was made flesh “for our sake,” or so goes the generally orthodox position, as to overcome the plague of “death” brought upon humanity (and the cosmos as a whole) by the Ancestral Sin of Adam. To this end, what is especially important is: 1) Christ’s ultimate goal of freeing humanity and reuniting them with God; 2) Trampling down death by death – which has been bound with the flesh – through One who does not know death. To wit: “in the likeness of the death of the one who knew not death, death might be destroyed” (59). Yet, if a mere man died upon the cross, the Lord would not have truly sanctified the body. The symbolism of the Old Testament sacrifices would not bear witness to the willful sacrifice of the Unblemished Lamb upon the Cross, since the typological cues would, nonetheless, remain. For “if the ‘type’ of the form makes its entrance with another’s blood and purifies the people, then the true form, or rather the Truth itself, is superior in every respect and the Son enters with His own blood… into that which is above and true, that is into heaven” (113). The true form exceeds the perfection and purity of the “type,” which, in other words, would truly be able to trample down death through a body that, again, had and never will “taste” death or decay. Only a body free from the chains of death could overcome it, and this body must be unified with the only one who has not tasted death and sin: God Himself.
This is where the phrase “coming in the form of a slave” (Philippians 2:7) becomes important. This Scriptural reference does not necessarily mean Christ bonded with a human under Adam’s sin (thus making the human person subordinate to the Word), but that “[i]t is His life in the form of a slave, in the flesh which He assumes; it is the likeness to us of one who is not as we are in His own nature, since He is above all creation” (86). We find in this example that it is “not as if he joined a man to Himself… but rather that He Himself came in that form, while even so remaining in the likeness of God the Father” (108). Therefore, to say the Son came “in the form of a slave” is an expression of the mystery and economy of the Incarnation. For how could this statement be true if the individual were already by nature a slave – that is, if He were subject to the noetic chaos initiated by Adam’s sin? Instead, freedom (i.e., the freedom from sin) is a necessary prerequisite for the statement to be logical: Christ emptied Himself in fully taking upon Himself the lowliness of human nature in this kenotic mystery of the Incarnation (the theological term is derived from the Greek above), yet without ceasing to be God. Therefore, the Word was “allowing His own flesh to obey the laws of its own nature” (109), making “these human things… His by an economic appropriation” (110).
We see that St. Cyril’s Christology rests on the “transcendent mystery” of the Incarnation, which is an ongoing archetype of a process (35). There are two constructs that explain St. Cyril’s mode of thought. First is the “Exchange of Properties” (also known as the “Communication of Idioms” (Antidosis idiomatum), which is founded “on the basis of this direct personal mutuality of experience founded on the single Divine Personality of the Logos who enjoyed both conditions or lifeforms” (45). The “Exchange of Properties” or “Communication of Idioms” overturns the Nestorian understanding of the dynamic of the two hypostases. Rather than separating or confusing the two through a strange and imbalanced “association,” St. Cyril emphasizes that the experiences of the Incarnate Christ need not be “divided” in such a fashion as to define each (e.g., the death on the Cross) as being that of one nature or another. For instance, on page 103, St. Cyril addresses a few actions attributed to Christ that seem rather unseemly due to the purity of their humanity – such as praying to the Father in the garden or crying out to the Father on the cross. Even so, there was “only one Son, the Word who was made man for our sake” and therefore “everything refers to him, words and deeds, both those that befit the deity, as well as those which are human” (107). All He did or said was for the benefit of all mankind; hence, nothing can be divided.
Secondly – albeit most importantly – we have the “Appropriation Theory.” It is the “redemptive system of exchange and transformation” through which St. Cyril can make use of terminology such as “the death of God” (45). [i] Not only is there the mutual experience present in the “Communication of Idioms,” but there is a transactive element within Him, which is expressed well in the statement: “The One Incarnate Nature of God the Word” (45). [ii] Thus, it is not incorrect to say “God suffered,” for the transcendent unity of Christ’s person allows such a statement to hold water; however, “he did not suffer in the nature of the Godhead, but in His own flesh” (115). Again, as was stated in one the paragraphs above, these statements would be entirely illogical if His flesh were not made His own; instead – without falling into the error attributed by the Nestorians to this mode of thought – God did suffer, but He suffered “impassively,” or, in other words, “in the flesh.” The Godhead is, of course, incapable of suffering, for He is without a body; however, if a unity of the Word and the flesh was established, there would have to be a connection of sorts as well as a shared experience. This unity and connection has various implications for soteriology (“‘What He was by nature, we become by grace’” (35) and other areas of theological thought through the ontological unity of man and the divine in the person of Jesus Christ.
St. Cyril’s Christology preserves, at least in many respects, the Eucharistic theology of the Church and the developing soteriological concept of theosis (i.e., “becoming God” through communication with the Divine Energies). The danger threatened by a Nestorian Christological system to these fundamental points is, perchance, the prime motive of these Church Fathers for countering it so dramatically. “[W]e shall be built upon the foundation stone itself, that is Christ” (133), states St. Cyril in the last paragraph of his text. In fact, it is imperative that orthodox doctrine speak the truth about this foundation-stone, for otherwise the whole structure shall tumble immediately. After all, without Christ, who is the Truth and harbinger of salvation to mankind, there can be no Church, and if there is no Church, there can be no hope.
Footnotes
[ i ] We should be careful here in saying that it was Christ the God-man (subsisting in an unconfused Hypostatic Union) who died on the Cross, or simply that it was Christ, who is God, that died on the Cross. God is not, by nature, a mortal entity or subject to non-being. We will see later on in Church history that the Monophysites (the later and opposite heresy to Nestorianism) added the clause “Holy Mighty… ‘who was crucified for us’”to the Trisagion in the Liturgy, as a sort of battle-cry. Interestingly enough, they claim St. Cyril as their inspiration!
[ ii ] Another famous line later used (or misused) by Monophysites. This is why they prefer to be called “Miaphysites.” What do we mean here by “nature?” It seems there was a shift in terminology. Some Orthodox theologians, like Fr. Georges Florovsky, have theorized the possibility of “asymmetrical Christologies” based on the Cyrillian emphasis.
St. Cyril’s first objection is one regarding terminology; to wit, he objects vehemently to Nestorius’ categorical definitions of “union” and “conjunction” as they pertain to the issue. The theological statements in question employ the term “inseparable conjunction” to describe the relationship between the human person of Jesus and the divinity of God the Word. St. Cyril, however, states that this particular word implies an uneasy relationship; that is, it does not properly acknowledge the cosmological importance of the event. In Christ there was “not an overlap, or a co-habitation, or a relationship, or a displacement, or an association” (40); rather, the “unification” – at least for St. Cyril – was one that did not “destroy the constituent elements” (40). In essence, “conjunction” would logically lead to the concept of “assumption” as posited by the Nestorian camp, thus asserting a rather loose connection in the person of the Divine Logos to an already-separate individual. Both these words, “assumption” and “conjunction,” are not strong enough if the Son must call the flesh His own in order to purify it. Instead, St. Cyril counter-proposes a use of the term “union” (henosis), which he defends as a more “extreme” form of conjunction that “in no way causes the confusion of the things it refers to, but rather signifies the concurrence in one reality of those things which are understood to be united” (73). According to this understanding, it can be said that:
“[T]he one assumed in the inseparable union has become the personal property of the one assuming, and while Jesus is God, the one and only true Son of God, the Word of God the Father… nonetheless the same one, in these last times of the present age, has been born of a woman according to the flesh, for the form of a slave belongs to no other but his very own” (75).
In other words, Cyril’s “union” shows itself something of a more formal bond in which it can truly be said that the flesh belonged to the Word. He had truly made the flesh – and therefore humanity – his own (Christ’s assumption of Human nature being, in Byzantine theology, a cornerstone of our common salvation equal to the ransom on the Cross). Assuming unity to be the goal sought after, it seems only proper to apply this term to Christ’s person, according to Cyril’s patently Alexandrian understanding of the word.
To say that the human person was “added” to the Word insofar as the Word Himself was not unified with the flesh – but rather “conjoined” to it – would be to invalidate the fullness of the Word Incarnate. “Christ…was fullness itself and there is absolutely nothing that is given to him insofar as he is considered…God” (91). The Nestorian camp would certainly agree with this; however, their error is in the eventual and inevitable degradation permitted by this pernicious doctrine. Hence, to proclaim that the person of Jesus became a wonder-worker by the indwelling of the Word would be tantamount to degrading the status of Christ to a mere “prophet,” at least “according to the Flesh.” It was the Prophets, Saints, and Apostles who so acted through the energy of the All-Holy Spirit. While Christ, too was “anointed” by the Spirit (Xristos meaning “anointed one”), the nature and properties of this so-called “gift” were intrinsically different, for “He was sanctified insofar as He was man, but sanctifies insofar as He is understood as God” (100). If the premise of “through Him all of mankind was sanctified” is accepted, it follows that the metaphysical properties of the anointing were radically different. In the case of the Messiahship of Jesus Christ, this calling has a greater significance than that of a prophetic anointing bestowed by the Lord on a single person – Christ being the God-Man, His anointing transcends these boundaries of individuality, inasmuch as, in taking on a true Human nature, he deified the entirety of the human race, thus, even as God, connecting in a deeper way with that bond uniting all of humanity.
The necessary ownership of the flesh in Christ is further exemplified in the Patristic antitype of Christ as the “Second Adam.” He was made flesh “for our sake,” or so goes the generally orthodox position, as to overcome the plague of “death” brought upon humanity (and the cosmos as a whole) by the Ancestral Sin of Adam. To this end, what is especially important is: 1) Christ’s ultimate goal of freeing humanity and reuniting them with God; 2) Trampling down death by death – which has been bound with the flesh – through One who does not know death. To wit: “in the likeness of the death of the one who knew not death, death might be destroyed” (59). Yet, if a mere man died upon the cross, the Lord would not have truly sanctified the body. The symbolism of the Old Testament sacrifices would not bear witness to the willful sacrifice of the Unblemished Lamb upon the Cross, since the typological cues would, nonetheless, remain. For “if the ‘type’ of the form makes its entrance with another’s blood and purifies the people, then the true form, or rather the Truth itself, is superior in every respect and the Son enters with His own blood… into that which is above and true, that is into heaven” (113). The true form exceeds the perfection and purity of the “type,” which, in other words, would truly be able to trample down death through a body that, again, had and never will “taste” death or decay. Only a body free from the chains of death could overcome it, and this body must be unified with the only one who has not tasted death and sin: God Himself.
This is where the phrase “coming in the form of a slave” (Philippians 2:7) becomes important. This Scriptural reference does not necessarily mean Christ bonded with a human under Adam’s sin (thus making the human person subordinate to the Word), but that “[i]t is His life in the form of a slave, in the flesh which He assumes; it is the likeness to us of one who is not as we are in His own nature, since He is above all creation” (86). We find in this example that it is “not as if he joined a man to Himself… but rather that He Himself came in that form, while even so remaining in the likeness of God the Father” (108). Therefore, to say the Son came “in the form of a slave” is an expression of the mystery and economy of the Incarnation. For how could this statement be true if the individual were already by nature a slave – that is, if He were subject to the noetic chaos initiated by Adam’s sin? Instead, freedom (i.e., the freedom from sin) is a necessary prerequisite for the statement to be logical: Christ emptied Himself in fully taking upon Himself the lowliness of human nature in this kenotic mystery of the Incarnation (the theological term is derived from the Greek above), yet without ceasing to be God. Therefore, the Word was “allowing His own flesh to obey the laws of its own nature” (109), making “these human things… His by an economic appropriation” (110).
We see that St. Cyril’s Christology rests on the “transcendent mystery” of the Incarnation, which is an ongoing archetype of a process (35). There are two constructs that explain St. Cyril’s mode of thought. First is the “Exchange of Properties” (also known as the “Communication of Idioms” (Antidosis idiomatum), which is founded “on the basis of this direct personal mutuality of experience founded on the single Divine Personality of the Logos who enjoyed both conditions or lifeforms” (45). The “Exchange of Properties” or “Communication of Idioms” overturns the Nestorian understanding of the dynamic of the two hypostases. Rather than separating or confusing the two through a strange and imbalanced “association,” St. Cyril emphasizes that the experiences of the Incarnate Christ need not be “divided” in such a fashion as to define each (e.g., the death on the Cross) as being that of one nature or another. For instance, on page 103, St. Cyril addresses a few actions attributed to Christ that seem rather unseemly due to the purity of their humanity – such as praying to the Father in the garden or crying out to the Father on the cross. Even so, there was “only one Son, the Word who was made man for our sake” and therefore “everything refers to him, words and deeds, both those that befit the deity, as well as those which are human” (107). All He did or said was for the benefit of all mankind; hence, nothing can be divided.
Secondly – albeit most importantly – we have the “Appropriation Theory.” It is the “redemptive system of exchange and transformation” through which St. Cyril can make use of terminology such as “the death of God” (45). [i] Not only is there the mutual experience present in the “Communication of Idioms,” but there is a transactive element within Him, which is expressed well in the statement: “The One Incarnate Nature of God the Word” (45). [ii] Thus, it is not incorrect to say “God suffered,” for the transcendent unity of Christ’s person allows such a statement to hold water; however, “he did not suffer in the nature of the Godhead, but in His own flesh” (115). Again, as was stated in one the paragraphs above, these statements would be entirely illogical if His flesh were not made His own; instead – without falling into the error attributed by the Nestorians to this mode of thought – God did suffer, but He suffered “impassively,” or, in other words, “in the flesh.” The Godhead is, of course, incapable of suffering, for He is without a body; however, if a unity of the Word and the flesh was established, there would have to be a connection of sorts as well as a shared experience. This unity and connection has various implications for soteriology (“‘What He was by nature, we become by grace’” (35) and other areas of theological thought through the ontological unity of man and the divine in the person of Jesus Christ.
St. Cyril’s Christology preserves, at least in many respects, the Eucharistic theology of the Church and the developing soteriological concept of theosis (i.e., “becoming God” through communication with the Divine Energies). The danger threatened by a Nestorian Christological system to these fundamental points is, perchance, the prime motive of these Church Fathers for countering it so dramatically. “[W]e shall be built upon the foundation stone itself, that is Christ” (133), states St. Cyril in the last paragraph of his text. In fact, it is imperative that orthodox doctrine speak the truth about this foundation-stone, for otherwise the whole structure shall tumble immediately. After all, without Christ, who is the Truth and harbinger of salvation to mankind, there can be no Church, and if there is no Church, there can be no hope.
Footnotes
[ i ] We should be careful here in saying that it was Christ the God-man (subsisting in an unconfused Hypostatic Union) who died on the Cross, or simply that it was Christ, who is God, that died on the Cross. God is not, by nature, a mortal entity or subject to non-being. We will see later on in Church history that the Monophysites (the later and opposite heresy to Nestorianism) added the clause “Holy Mighty… ‘who was crucified for us’”to the Trisagion in the Liturgy, as a sort of battle-cry. Interestingly enough, they claim St. Cyril as their inspiration!
[ ii ] Another famous line later used (or misused) by Monophysites. This is why they prefer to be called “Miaphysites.” What do we mean here by “nature?” It seems there was a shift in terminology. Some Orthodox theologians, like Fr. Georges Florovsky, have theorized the possibility of “asymmetrical Christologies” based on the Cyrillian emphasis.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
The Jesus Seminar
The above-mentioned seminar is, for some reason, on my mind again today. I have been reading a bit more into their methods in scholarly "mischief" today. Hence, a rant must ensue.
First off, the seminar's blatent ability to ignore the canonical process in Christianity is rather interesting. There are Five Gospels, and, "[t]he “Five Gospels” in question are (in case there was any doubt) Mark, Matthew, Luke, John, and Thomas" (Wright 83). The last one is a bit of a surprise. Actually, with regards to the historical record of canonization, it's quite bizarre. N.T. Wright continues: "The inclusion of the last of these will still raise one or two eyebrows, through it is by now well known that the Seminar takes kindly to Thomas, not least because of its apparent similarity with (some reconstructions of) the hypothetical source “Q”—and, as we shall see, the portrait of Jesus which it appears to support" (83-4). In fact, it is fairly well-known that, at least as a whole, the seminar views the Gospel of Thomas in a more respectful light than the Gospel of St. John, the latter of which is quite obviously part of the Biblical canon. Evidently the prior contains more accurate sayings than the latter, which, given the historical association -- and rightfully so -- with the Gnosticism is rather odd. Yes, even the Gospel of St. John was debated, but it was hardly viewed in the same light as Thomas' piece. Like Thomas, its tone is different than the other three gospels, but it is nevertheless obviously closer to the the first three -- namely theologically. Whether this usage of "Q" is rational is beyond my knowledge at this point, but I certainly find the conclusion untrustworthy.
Secondly, there is the use of their colloquial translation. This is the "Scholar's Version" that is -- and as Wright notes, quite pompously -- "authorized by scholars." And, yet, the actually text of the "scholar's version" hardly sounds scholarly, making use of such grammatically "iffy" tidbits such as the modern second-person pronoun "you" ("iffy" inasmuch as it does not depict the same number, that is plural or singular, as clearly as "ye" or "thou" -- the latter two being, personally, the more grammatically accurate translations with regards to the original Koine). Rather, Christ speaks as if He walked of the street. Is this per chance an accurate depiction? Yes, as the Koine used by the Hebrews was quite different than the scholarly "voice" of Gential writers. For instance: "When Jesus noticed their trust, he said, 'Mister, your sins have been forgiven you'" (Matt. 22:12 of the "Five Gospels").
Next comes the "criteria for inauthenticy," which, at least in my opinion, is hardly scholarly and depicts an agenda more than anything. Four of such characteristics are:
i.) Self-reference (e.g. Christ referring to Himself);
ii.) Framing Material (e.g. introduction/frame for other material);
iii.) Community Issues (e.g. instructions for early Christians);
iv.) Theological Bias (e.g. a redactor bias).
What I do not understand is why any of these are reasons for naming a passage as inauthentic. If Christ was assumed to be a revolutionary, would He not point towards community issues? The theological bias and self-reference appear to assert that there is a pre-existing bias that Christ is not at all God/divine, which should not necessarily be a factor in deciding whether or not the passage is or is not authentic, mostly because it is quite clearly, again, biased.
Finally, they have degrees. Yes, because this is somehow a decisive factor...
Peace. More later?
First off, the seminar's blatent ability to ignore the canonical process in Christianity is rather interesting. There are Five Gospels, and, "[t]he “Five Gospels” in question are (in case there was any doubt) Mark, Matthew, Luke, John, and Thomas" (Wright 83). The last one is a bit of a surprise. Actually, with regards to the historical record of canonization, it's quite bizarre. N.T. Wright continues: "The inclusion of the last of these will still raise one or two eyebrows, through it is by now well known that the Seminar takes kindly to Thomas, not least because of its apparent similarity with (some reconstructions of) the hypothetical source “Q”—and, as we shall see, the portrait of Jesus which it appears to support" (83-4). In fact, it is fairly well-known that, at least as a whole, the seminar views the Gospel of Thomas in a more respectful light than the Gospel of St. John, the latter of which is quite obviously part of the Biblical canon. Evidently the prior contains more accurate sayings than the latter, which, given the historical association -- and rightfully so -- with the Gnosticism is rather odd. Yes, even the Gospel of St. John was debated, but it was hardly viewed in the same light as Thomas' piece. Like Thomas, its tone is different than the other three gospels, but it is nevertheless obviously closer to the the first three -- namely theologically. Whether this usage of "Q" is rational is beyond my knowledge at this point, but I certainly find the conclusion untrustworthy.
Secondly, there is the use of their colloquial translation. This is the "Scholar's Version" that is -- and as Wright notes, quite pompously -- "authorized by scholars." And, yet, the actually text of the "scholar's version" hardly sounds scholarly, making use of such grammatically "iffy" tidbits such as the modern second-person pronoun "you" ("iffy" inasmuch as it does not depict the same number, that is plural or singular, as clearly as "ye" or "thou" -- the latter two being, personally, the more grammatically accurate translations with regards to the original Koine). Rather, Christ speaks as if He walked of the street. Is this per chance an accurate depiction? Yes, as the Koine used by the Hebrews was quite different than the scholarly "voice" of Gential writers. For instance: "When Jesus noticed their trust, he said, 'Mister, your sins have been forgiven you'" (Matt. 22:12 of the "Five Gospels").
Next comes the "criteria for inauthenticy," which, at least in my opinion, is hardly scholarly and depicts an agenda more than anything. Four of such characteristics are:
i.) Self-reference (e.g. Christ referring to Himself);
ii.) Framing Material (e.g. introduction/frame for other material);
iii.) Community Issues (e.g. instructions for early Christians);
iv.) Theological Bias (e.g. a redactor bias).
What I do not understand is why any of these are reasons for naming a passage as inauthentic. If Christ was assumed to be a revolutionary, would He not point towards community issues? The theological bias and self-reference appear to assert that there is a pre-existing bias that Christ is not at all God/divine, which should not necessarily be a factor in deciding whether or not the passage is or is not authentic, mostly because it is quite clearly, again, biased.
Finally, they have degrees. Yes, because this is somehow a decisive factor...
Peace. More later?
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
NAMB's Nasty Stab: "Turning Barriers of Belief into Bridges of Personal Faith"
"Ivan was frustrated. The more he tried to know God, the farther away God seemed. He wanted to read and learn more about him, but where should he turn? Should he look in his daily prayer book, talk to his priest, buy a Bible and read it? Which one would be the best source for showing him the way? He decided the best option would be to talk to the priest, Father Dmitri. At least you could trust the Church. It had been in his country for over a thousand years. The priest frustrated him even more. Dmitri told him not to worry about knowing God—he was a mystery and could not be known. But the missionaries who led a Bible Study where Ivan went to college seemed to personally know him. They think they do, Dmitri said, but what they really know is merely a system they have created to explain him who is without explanation." (p. 15)
Link: http://www.namb.net/atf/cf/%7BCDA250E8-8866-4236-9A0C-C646DE153446%7D/BB_E_Orthodox_Manual.pdf
NAMB (North American Missionary Board), a group sponsered by the Southern Baptist Convention, has made a bit of a major ecumenical error with a 70-something page guide to the conversion of Eastern Orthodox Christians. Granted, they have done this for numerous religious sects, the Hindu guidebook being most prominant in my mind due to one protest somewhere in the midwest. Although I personally have no issue with the concept of conversion -- being a convert myself -- the Baptist method seems to be more like "tactical brainwashing." The guide cites such modern theological "stars" as Lossky and Florovsky with little to no understanding of the concepts behind them. This is, of course, innumerated through their gross understanding of essence and energies on page 23. I'll briefly illustrate their figured:
God
ESSENCE
⎛ ⎞
⎟ ⎟
⎟ ⎟
⎟ ⎟
⎢ ⎟ ⎟
⎟ ⎟
⎟ ⎟
∨ ∨ ∨ ∨
ENERGIES
*Note the radioactive properties of these rays. God is gamma.
I'll give the some credit: that caption was not present. And, yes, it is correct to say that God's energies "radiate" in some manner of speaking. The problem here is more or less that the diagram over-simplifies the whole ordeal into some poorly-planned plot. They quote St. Basil the Great, which is all and well, but skew his words into this crummy diagram. Yes, St. Basil says God's energies decend upon us, and this quotation is quite obviously orthodox. But I do not believe St. Basil would describe God's "energies" as little arrows spewing forth from His essence, as this -- at least to me -- makes it seem as if His energies are "less" glorious and almost less holy. From an over-simplified understanding of the theology comes the obvious conclusion: God is too "unknowable" for "true" Biblical thought. This, they claim, causes people to fear personally experiencing God. To turn these barriers into bridges, a Baptist missionary is to emphasize the "branch" described in John 15:5 (e.g. the believer is the branch, and the vine is Jesus).
Isn't this a bit similar to the essence/energy idea? Evidently not, as it is also necessary for a missionary to preach on the known characteristics of God. Cataphatic theology is not alien to the East, as they seem to think. To wit, "Rather than list and explain the attributes of God (as Western theologians often do), an Eastern theologian looks for aspects of the world which show imperfection or incompleteness" (p. 22). God is, as Pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite states, that incomprehensible mystical darkness upon Mt. Sinai, but there are nevertheless some positive characteristics that we can attribute to Him. Eastern theologians are not blind to this idea; rather, it is understood that too much cataphatic thought degrades God's infinite glory. There ought to be, again, as many Eastern theologians say, a healthy "balence" between the two. Even so, apophatic theology -- as again demonstrated by Pseudo-Dionysius -- is not simply "negations;" rather, God is noted as "hyper-essential" and "super-natural."
Given their understanding, the SBC would probably call Pseudo-Dionysius an "atheist" for his bit on the nature of God's existence. Oh well.
The sad thing is despite the obvious racial profiling (all the pictures are of a cliche Russian Orthodox believer), the semi-decent scholarship -- inasmuch as they quote prominant and important Orthodox scholars -- makes it seem as if the missionaries truly understand what they are discussing, at least on some level. It is not perfect, granted, but it is more appealing than a Chick tract -- and more convincing. I know they are doing work in Russia, which is obviously opportunistic, as many of the faithful there have just emerged from the underground to the public sphere.
*sigh*
Link: http://www.namb.net/atf/cf/%7BCDA250E8-8866-4236-9A0C-C646DE153446%7D/BB_E_Orthodox_Manual.pdf
NAMB (North American Missionary Board), a group sponsered by the Southern Baptist Convention, has made a bit of a major ecumenical error with a 70-something page guide to the conversion of Eastern Orthodox Christians. Granted, they have done this for numerous religious sects, the Hindu guidebook being most prominant in my mind due to one protest somewhere in the midwest. Although I personally have no issue with the concept of conversion -- being a convert myself -- the Baptist method seems to be more like "tactical brainwashing." The guide cites such modern theological "stars" as Lossky and Florovsky with little to no understanding of the concepts behind them. This is, of course, innumerated through their gross understanding of essence and energies on page 23. I'll briefly illustrate their figured:
God
ESSENCE
⎛ ⎞
⎟ ⎟
⎟ ⎟
⎟ ⎟
⎢ ⎟ ⎟
⎟ ⎟
⎟ ⎟
∨ ∨ ∨ ∨
ENERGIES
*Note the radioactive properties of these rays. God is gamma.
I'll give the some credit: that caption was not present. And, yes, it is correct to say that God's energies "radiate" in some manner of speaking. The problem here is more or less that the diagram over-simplifies the whole ordeal into some poorly-planned plot. They quote St. Basil the Great, which is all and well, but skew his words into this crummy diagram. Yes, St. Basil says God's energies decend upon us, and this quotation is quite obviously orthodox. But I do not believe St. Basil would describe God's "energies" as little arrows spewing forth from His essence, as this -- at least to me -- makes it seem as if His energies are "less" glorious and almost less holy. From an over-simplified understanding of the theology comes the obvious conclusion: God is too "unknowable" for "true" Biblical thought. This, they claim, causes people to fear personally experiencing God. To turn these barriers into bridges, a Baptist missionary is to emphasize the "branch" described in John 15:5 (e.g. the believer is the branch, and the vine is Jesus).
Isn't this a bit similar to the essence/energy idea? Evidently not, as it is also necessary for a missionary to preach on the known characteristics of God. Cataphatic theology is not alien to the East, as they seem to think. To wit, "Rather than list and explain the attributes of God (as Western theologians often do), an Eastern theologian looks for aspects of the world which show imperfection or incompleteness" (p. 22). God is, as Pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite states, that incomprehensible mystical darkness upon Mt. Sinai, but there are nevertheless some positive characteristics that we can attribute to Him. Eastern theologians are not blind to this idea; rather, it is understood that too much cataphatic thought degrades God's infinite glory. There ought to be, again, as many Eastern theologians say, a healthy "balence" between the two. Even so, apophatic theology -- as again demonstrated by Pseudo-Dionysius -- is not simply "negations;" rather, God is noted as "hyper-essential" and "super-natural."
Given their understanding, the SBC would probably call Pseudo-Dionysius an "atheist" for his bit on the nature of God's existence. Oh well.
The sad thing is despite the obvious racial profiling (all the pictures are of a cliche Russian Orthodox believer), the semi-decent scholarship -- inasmuch as they quote prominant and important Orthodox scholars -- makes it seem as if the missionaries truly understand what they are discussing, at least on some level. It is not perfect, granted, but it is more appealing than a Chick tract -- and more convincing. I know they are doing work in Russia, which is obviously opportunistic, as many of the faithful there have just emerged from the underground to the public sphere.
*sigh*
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Monks and the Environment: Love the Trees
Archbishop Ladar Puhalo on Ecology. I'll post all five parts.
Part 1
Part II
Part III
Part IV
Part V
Enjoy! And thanks to the All Saints Monastery in Canada for making this possible. :-)
Part 1
Part II
Part III
Part IV
Part V
Enjoy! And thanks to the All Saints Monastery in Canada for making this possible. :-)
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
A Brief Rant About the Capital Punishment
I would like to begin with a short letter from Bishop Seraphim of Ottawa and Canada:
I am saddened whenever I hear Orthodox Christians defend capital punishment, even though I know that there are, were, and always will be various and opposing opinions in our Church, and that these opinions may be justifiable within their own systems of logic.
I cannot square capital punishment with any of my Christian experience. The Old Testament may be quoted, but I do not see it in the New. I cannot square it with the introduction to the Ten Commandments. I cannot square it with the Gospel. I cannot square it with the words of the 'Our Father.' I cannot square it with 'The Beatitudes.' I cannot square it with my knowledge of our canonical tradition. I cannot square it with my knowledge of the teaching of the Fathers. I can not square it with my reading of any one of our saints. And most certainly I cannot square it with the teaching of Saint Silouan, that the real test of a Christian is being able to forgive one's enemies.
Since we Christians stand for repentance, and are called to live this daily, it is perhaps our responsibility to help the persons incarcerated for serious crimes to move in that direction also.
Perhaps we Orthodox Christians should at last take seriously our call to visit those in prison, to become qualified for a prison ministry, even, and to bring some hope, consolation, and witness of something better to these persons who otherwise could well die without knowing anything else except misery.
We always say 'Talk is cheap.' Perhaps it's time we proved we are Christians by doing something instead of philosophizing.
+ Seraphim
Bishop of Ottawa and Canada
(The Orthodox Church, January 1999).
Various attitudes towards the alignment of Christianity and the death penalty have appeared throughout the ages as political, religious, and cultural developments shaped the public's general attitude towards Christ's teachings as documented in the books of the New Testament. In the mess of denominations that exist today -- each of which claim to be "the One True Church" -- it can be difficult, if not practically impossible, to discern what is the True Christian message. The issue of concern here, as is apparent from Bishop Seraphim's beautiful letter above, is, obviously, the moral rational behind the institution of capital punishment. Although I will probably not get too deep into the subject at the moment, I hope to at least get some message across.
Like Bishop Seraphim, I too am saddened to see not only Orthodox Christians in favor of the aforementioned institution but also the American population as a whole. When most individuals hear the phrase "pro-life," the concept of abortion often comes to mind far faster than an opposition to the death penalty and/or the abolition of poverty. This is not to say, of course, that the pro-life community is not concerned with these issues; as a matter of fact, they are. Similarly, it is not to say that issues such as abortion are not to be a major political concern. Rather, all of these are part of what Pope John Paul II titled "the culture of death." The term was used during a speech made on December 25th, 2000, in which the pope warned Catholics and the rest of the world population against the countless aggressions we are forced to face in society today (e.g. violence against women and children, abortion, euthanasia, etc.) (25 December 2000, "Pope Warns Over 'Culture of Death,'" CNN.com). Despite the depressing list, he leaves us with one hopeful message: "'However dense the darkness may appear,' the pope said, 'our hope for the triumph of the light which appeared on this holy night at Bethlehem is stronger still.'" (CNN.com). I am certain Bishop Seraphim would agree.
In August of 1989, the Orthodox Church in America released a statement regarding the morality of the death penalty, proclaiming the immorality of such a practice and henceforth calling for an abolition to the practice. The Ninth All-American Council of the Orthodox Church in America (the group which published the statement), noted that "in all such questions involving life and death the Church must always champion life" in light of the "redemptive nature of the Gospel of Jesus Christ" ("Resolution on the Death Penalty," 1989). While those who commit crimes against the people/government ought to be punished, it is recognized that "there is no humane way to execute a human being," asserting that a life in prison without parole is the preferred method of punishment for those who would normally be subject to said penalty. The brief statement closes with a proclamation of support by the Orthodox Church to those organizations -- political or otherwise -- that plan to rid the country of the immoral legislation. Chapter 8, verses 3 through 11 of the Gospel of St. John – AKA the Pericope Adulterae (Latin: the pericope (passage) of the adulterer” – is cited in favor of Christ's opposition to the practice. Here, notes the Council, Our Lord prevented the "legal execution of a woman" as to make way for a chance at her "rehabilitation, reconciliation, and redemption" ("Resolution on the Death Penalty," 1989).
So, then, why do so many Christians claim to support the institution? Pastor and possible Republican Presidential candidate Mike Huckabee, for instance, said: "'Interestingly enough,' Huckabee allowed, 'if there was ever an occasion for someone to have argued against the death penalty, I think Jesus could have done so on the cross and said, "This is an unjust punishment and I deserve clemency."'" (Arkansas Times, 22 Jan 1997). Democratic candidates are often more supportive of the abolition of the death penalty, but even this assertion is not consistent with all, as there are a small bundle of potential candidates who claim to the for the use of the punishment. Republicans and conservatives are easily bothered by the use of abortion, but they have tended to be more supportive of the penalty; meanwhile, Democrats are more prone to pro-choice legislation, but they tend to be more supportive of its abolition. There are, surely some politicians who are consistently pro-life in their voting record, but they are often less popular. As Jim Wallis points out in his book God's Politics, the "Left" and the "Right" -- at least as a whole -- have missed the point.
Although the execution of Christ is the center of the Christian cosmological timeline, it is, many ways, the antithesis of what is today considered the “orthodox” interpretation of capital punishment. Christ’s “sacrifice” was a metaphysically unique event, for, unlike the traditional usage of the penalty, the goal of the Godhead was not to administer justice per se (n.b. “justice” is used in the purely legal sense of the term) but to uplift the souls of all humanity viz. a cosmological event that would give way to the purification of man’s once-perfect noetic faculties. As the Physician of Souls, God’s “goal” was to heal the noetic wounds upon all of mankind and therefore not to punish. Christ’s death on the cross is eternal; it is repeated every Sunday in the liturgy, and, likewise, is supernaturally crucified each time we sin. To say Christ’s crucifixion is the same in nature as the execution of a criminal under the law is, thus, inherently erroneous. It was, perhaps, the same in form, but to henceforth assert it is the same in nature would be to degrade the divinity of the sacrifice as well as, at least to a degree, Christ’s infinite freedom.
(To be continued...)
I am saddened whenever I hear Orthodox Christians defend capital punishment, even though I know that there are, were, and always will be various and opposing opinions in our Church, and that these opinions may be justifiable within their own systems of logic.
I cannot square capital punishment with any of my Christian experience. The Old Testament may be quoted, but I do not see it in the New. I cannot square it with the introduction to the Ten Commandments. I cannot square it with the Gospel. I cannot square it with the words of the 'Our Father.' I cannot square it with 'The Beatitudes.' I cannot square it with my knowledge of our canonical tradition. I cannot square it with my knowledge of the teaching of the Fathers. I can not square it with my reading of any one of our saints. And most certainly I cannot square it with the teaching of Saint Silouan, that the real test of a Christian is being able to forgive one's enemies.
Since we Christians stand for repentance, and are called to live this daily, it is perhaps our responsibility to help the persons incarcerated for serious crimes to move in that direction also.
Perhaps we Orthodox Christians should at last take seriously our call to visit those in prison, to become qualified for a prison ministry, even, and to bring some hope, consolation, and witness of something better to these persons who otherwise could well die without knowing anything else except misery.
We always say 'Talk is cheap.' Perhaps it's time we proved we are Christians by doing something instead of philosophizing.
+ Seraphim
Bishop of Ottawa and Canada
(The Orthodox Church, January 1999).
Various attitudes towards the alignment of Christianity and the death penalty have appeared throughout the ages as political, religious, and cultural developments shaped the public's general attitude towards Christ's teachings as documented in the books of the New Testament. In the mess of denominations that exist today -- each of which claim to be "the One True Church" -- it can be difficult, if not practically impossible, to discern what is the True Christian message. The issue of concern here, as is apparent from Bishop Seraphim's beautiful letter above, is, obviously, the moral rational behind the institution of capital punishment. Although I will probably not get too deep into the subject at the moment, I hope to at least get some message across.
Like Bishop Seraphim, I too am saddened to see not only Orthodox Christians in favor of the aforementioned institution but also the American population as a whole. When most individuals hear the phrase "pro-life," the concept of abortion often comes to mind far faster than an opposition to the death penalty and/or the abolition of poverty. This is not to say, of course, that the pro-life community is not concerned with these issues; as a matter of fact, they are. Similarly, it is not to say that issues such as abortion are not to be a major political concern. Rather, all of these are part of what Pope John Paul II titled "the culture of death." The term was used during a speech made on December 25th, 2000, in which the pope warned Catholics and the rest of the world population against the countless aggressions we are forced to face in society today (e.g. violence against women and children, abortion, euthanasia, etc.) (25 December 2000, "Pope Warns Over 'Culture of Death,'" CNN.com). Despite the depressing list, he leaves us with one hopeful message: "'However dense the darkness may appear,' the pope said, 'our hope for the triumph of the light which appeared on this holy night at Bethlehem is stronger still.'" (CNN.com). I am certain Bishop Seraphim would agree.
In August of 1989, the Orthodox Church in America released a statement regarding the morality of the death penalty, proclaiming the immorality of such a practice and henceforth calling for an abolition to the practice. The Ninth All-American Council of the Orthodox Church in America (the group which published the statement), noted that "in all such questions involving life and death the Church must always champion life" in light of the "redemptive nature of the Gospel of Jesus Christ" ("Resolution on the Death Penalty," 1989). While those who commit crimes against the people/government ought to be punished, it is recognized that "there is no humane way to execute a human being," asserting that a life in prison without parole is the preferred method of punishment for those who would normally be subject to said penalty. The brief statement closes with a proclamation of support by the Orthodox Church to those organizations -- political or otherwise -- that plan to rid the country of the immoral legislation. Chapter 8, verses 3 through 11 of the Gospel of St. John – AKA the Pericope Adulterae (Latin: the pericope (passage) of the adulterer” – is cited in favor of Christ's opposition to the practice. Here, notes the Council, Our Lord prevented the "legal execution of a woman" as to make way for a chance at her "rehabilitation, reconciliation, and redemption" ("Resolution on the Death Penalty," 1989).
So, then, why do so many Christians claim to support the institution? Pastor and possible Republican Presidential candidate Mike Huckabee, for instance, said: "'Interestingly enough,' Huckabee allowed, 'if there was ever an occasion for someone to have argued against the death penalty, I think Jesus could have done so on the cross and said, "This is an unjust punishment and I deserve clemency."'" (Arkansas Times, 22 Jan 1997). Democratic candidates are often more supportive of the abolition of the death penalty, but even this assertion is not consistent with all, as there are a small bundle of potential candidates who claim to the for the use of the punishment. Republicans and conservatives are easily bothered by the use of abortion, but they have tended to be more supportive of the penalty; meanwhile, Democrats are more prone to pro-choice legislation, but they tend to be more supportive of its abolition. There are, surely some politicians who are consistently pro-life in their voting record, but they are often less popular. As Jim Wallis points out in his book God's Politics, the "Left" and the "Right" -- at least as a whole -- have missed the point.
Although the execution of Christ is the center of the Christian cosmological timeline, it is, many ways, the antithesis of what is today considered the “orthodox” interpretation of capital punishment. Christ’s “sacrifice” was a metaphysically unique event, for, unlike the traditional usage of the penalty, the goal of the Godhead was not to administer justice per se (n.b. “justice” is used in the purely legal sense of the term) but to uplift the souls of all humanity viz. a cosmological event that would give way to the purification of man’s once-perfect noetic faculties. As the Physician of Souls, God’s “goal” was to heal the noetic wounds upon all of mankind and therefore not to punish. Christ’s death on the cross is eternal; it is repeated every Sunday in the liturgy, and, likewise, is supernaturally crucified each time we sin. To say Christ’s crucifixion is the same in nature as the execution of a criminal under the law is, thus, inherently erroneous. It was, perhaps, the same in form, but to henceforth assert it is the same in nature would be to degrade the divinity of the sacrifice as well as, at least to a degree, Christ’s infinite freedom.
(To be continued...)
Monday, January 14, 2008
Greetings!
The title explains it all.
My names Hannah, and, as you can plainly see depending on the mood of your internet browser, this is a blog. I'm sorry if you have arrived here arbitrarily; I do apologize for wasting your precious time.
Now to cut to the chase.
I don't have much to post here at the moment, though I plan on excavating and/or constructing more material. As for today, however, I shall leave you with a brief introduction via a small, crummy poem I attempted some time ago. The theme is fairly, erm, easy to comprehend. It doesn't try to be subtle, really.
Hearken unto me, O Jerusalem,
Thou who art my life, my light, my savior eternal.
Hearken unto me, O Jerusalem,
And hear these cries of we, who hath forgotten
Our tongues cloven to the roofs of our mouths.
Hearken unto me, O Jerusalem,
“Hearken unto the voice of my cry” (Ps. 5.2).
I shall hang my harp upon the door of thy sepulcher,
As to praise thy unnamable name.
Pleading thee, O Jerusalem, am I,
For thine lovingkindness, thy mercy, thy saving grace,
That hast sanctified the souls of our forefathers.
Hearken unto us, O glorious Zion,
We, once begotten, return wearily to thy bosom.
(By me).
I leave you with this in hopes that eventually an essay or some other piece (e.g. random discourse) will make its way on to this pathetic sight. But, in the mean time, שָׁלוֹם
My names Hannah, and, as you can plainly see depending on the mood of your internet browser, this is a blog. I'm sorry if you have arrived here arbitrarily; I do apologize for wasting your precious time.
Now to cut to the chase.
I don't have much to post here at the moment, though I plan on excavating and/or constructing more material. As for today, however, I shall leave you with a brief introduction via a small, crummy poem I attempted some time ago. The theme is fairly, erm, easy to comprehend. It doesn't try to be subtle, really.
Hearken unto me, O Jerusalem,
Thou who art my life, my light, my savior eternal.
Hearken unto me, O Jerusalem,
And hear these cries of we, who hath forgotten
Our tongues cloven to the roofs of our mouths.
Hearken unto me, O Jerusalem,
“Hearken unto the voice of my cry” (Ps. 5.2).
I shall hang my harp upon the door of thy sepulcher,
As to praise thy unnamable name.
Pleading thee, O Jerusalem, am I,
For thine lovingkindness, thy mercy, thy saving grace,
That hast sanctified the souls of our forefathers.
Hearken unto us, O glorious Zion,
We, once begotten, return wearily to thy bosom.
(By me).
I leave you with this in hopes that eventually an essay or some other piece (e.g. random discourse) will make its way on to this pathetic sight. But, in the mean time, שָׁלוֹם
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