Saith Sudduth,

Krishna is the all-attractive Absolute who is manifested in the different religious traditions of the world. There is merging into impersonal Brahman. There are also distinctly theistic experiences in which the self encounters a personal God.

The ultimate being is either personal or not. Thus, it can’t be that both the aforementioned experiences are veridical, i.e. represent God as God really is.

I think Sudduth agrees; he goes on to explain that “merging” experiences are something like the devotee coming in contract with what some would call the “energies” of God. Of course, Indian philosophers like Sankara would disagree. And I don’t know why we should accept Sudduth’s claim that:

…that transcendental consciousness (the aim of nearly all religious traditions) is in fact variegated in nature.

I don’t know that there is any one general sort of experience which nearly all traditions aim at. Experiences of a loving god are not at all like the sorts of experiences monistic types profess, wherein, they say, there is no subject-object duality, but one just is non-cognitively aware of  the ineffable One.

 It is most fitting that God would seek to experience the love of the devotee in much the same way that he would seek to experience the suffering of the devotee (in the person of Jesus). In Christ God suffers with us. In Chaitanya, God loves with us. In each case, there is an important identification between God and us. God tastes the suffering that distances us from Him and the love that brings us near to Him.

I’d like to hear more about this “identification“. When theologians who’ve read Moltmann start talking like this, I think that more often than not, they’re sorely confused about the various ideas of sameness/identity. I’m assuming that Sudduth, being a philosopher, is not. So, in what sense is God “the same as” (“identified” with) the devotee?

Perhaps the answer is in this part of his letter:

 …the GV tradition specifically views the relationship between God and the self as an inconceivable and simultaneous difference and non-difference (achintya bheda abheda tattva). This strikes a wonderful balance between the monism of Advaita Vedanta and the strong dualism of the Dvaita schools originating from Madhva (and also reflected in most streams of the Christian tradition). As I see it, the ways of unqualified oneness and unqualified separateness (between self and God) each tends ultimately to dissolve the love relationship between the self and God. Love requires a merging of two beings into one, yet without a loss of their individuality. This is inconceivable, but its truth is the precondition for the possibility of real love between the self and God. Consequently, I now accept a panentheistic metaphysics in which the universe and human souls are, to put it roughly, in the being of God.

If I understand him, he’s a negative mysterian about the relationship between God and devotee. It might at first appear contradictory (they’re numerically one, and they are not) but in fact the relation is something which can’t be grasped by us.

Honestly, I don’t see how this can be a “wonderful balance.” The mind has nowhere to rest; as with all negative mysterianism, a commitment has been made to simply think inconsistently, but insist that really, this is sort of just pointing at an inconceivable fact, an ungraspable one. This sort of move insulates one’s claim from refutation, but it also leaves unclear why anyone else should agree with it. (What claim?)

Moving on, Sudduth holds that

…GV has the intellectual resources for a reasonable inclusivist understanding of religion.

This needs some unpacking for non-philosophers. In philosophy of religion, “inclusivism” is the claim that the goal of religion (whatever one thinks that is) can be gotten by people outside the one true, or the one most true religion. (“Can be” – the general position is neutral about how often this happens.) The Roman Catholic theologian Karl Rahner famously stumps for this, and no small number of analytic Christian philosophers think this must be right.

I would be interested in why Sudduth thinks GV is particularly well off here. Is it better off on this score than Christianity? If so, why? And what sorts of religions might one gain the goal of religion through? And, what is the goal of religion? I would assume it is theistic – like, escaping the cycle of reincarnations and living in the presence of Krishna and his other devotees.

But then, Sudduth says,

…God-realization (or salvation) takes on diverse forms

But what sort of goal is this “God realization”? Is he saying that it takes monotheistic forms (like I just described) and also unitive, absolutist, “merging” forms (the ole drop of water going back into the ocean). What is the genus of which these two ends are the species, I wonder? It seem to me that there must be one, else the “cure” envisioned by his theology is weirdly ad hoc and disjunctive.

Moreover, what separates the sort of inclusivism he wants to endorse from being a type of religious pluralism (the view that the goal of religion can be acheived through all, or all major religions)? I assume there is a difference, which is why he says “inclusivism” and not “pluralism”. But what could it be? Might not Krishna also graciously offer pretty much any goal aimed at by any religious tradition? If not, why not?

Obviously I am not a fellow-traveler with him, but I wish him the best, and will be interested to see his thoughts as he says more about all of this.

Dr. Win Corduan responds to this site (which probably appears to many as a credible source).

I’ve enjoyed a couple of Dr. Corduan’s books, in particular this one.

Update: part 2, part 3.

Seems that he’s finished a new edition of the book I mention above – cool!

Pictured here are Krishna and his lover Radha. I take it that in Sudduth’s form of Hinduism Krishna is an avatar of Vishnu. Other Hindus consider Krishna to be the high god himself.

There is much art celebrating the love of these two.

The story for me was a bit spoiled when I watched a documentary in which a Hindu, Indian man explained that (at least on some versions) Radha is married to another, and is Krishna’s aunt. Perhaps some would object that I’m not looking at it metaphysically enough.

In another famous episode, Krishna charms a bunch of cow-herding ladies.

I’m curious to read more about Sudduth’s conversion. How does one get from Calvin’s all-determining triune deity to Vishnu? I wonder if it is by way of fairly mainstream trinitarian modalism…

Myself, as I read Sudduth’s interesting narrative of his conversion I’m not sure where, i.e. with what sort of Christianity, he was starting from. I too have taught the Gita in an academic setting, but I have not had experiences like this:

Around 4:20am (Friday morning) September 16th, I woke suddenly from a deep sleep to the sound of the name of “Krishna” being uttered in some way, as if someone was present in my room and had spoken his name out loud. Upon waking I immediately had a most profound sense of Krishna’s actual presence in my bedroom, a presence no less real than the presence of another living person in the room, though I was alone at the time. I responded to this felt presence, first through my thoughts that repeated Krishna’s name (and inquired of his presence), and then verbally out loud by uttering Krishna’s name twice: Krishna, Krishna. I was seized at this moment with a most sweet feeling of completeness and joy. I felt as if Krishna was there with me in my room and actually heard my voice, and that my response had completed a process that began with his name within my mind. I pondered this experience for several minutes, while at the same time continuing to experience a most blissful serenity and feeling of oneness with God, not unlike I had experienced on many occasions in the past in my relationship with the Lord Jesus. It was a most profound sense of both awe and intimacy with God in the form of Lord Krishna.

I should add, and I think this is very important, that I felt I was experiencing the same God that I had experienced on many occasions throughout my Christian life. However, I felt like this being was showing me a different face, side, or aspect to Himself, or – better yet – a different mode of my relationship to Him. I felt a certain validation of my spiritual journey, both past and present. I had gone so far in my Christian faith, but it was now necessary for me to relate to God as Lord Krishna.

If I understand him, he’s saying that he conceived of Jesus as a mode of God – not uncommon among catholic Christians – and now he views Krishna as another mode of God, another way God is and appears. Well, presumably God can be and appear in uncountably many ways. As for me, since I hold that Jesus is a different self than God, I must reject that he’s a mode of God himself; Jesus isn’t a mode at all, but rather a self/person. But back to Sudduth:

After my journey to [the California ashram] Audarya… I can only describe my experience as one of being irresistibly drawn to Sri Krishna, overwhelmed with His power and beauty, convinced of his Godhead – in short overflowing with love for Him as the Supreme Personality of the Godhead, and through him love for all beings, as He resides in the hearts of all beings.

One thing I’m curious about is: does his present faith involve, as most forms of Hinduism do, worship of images? If so, how or why did he change his mind about that? I assume that as a Protestant he viewed idolatry as being forbidden by God.

Sudduth’s account is mostly positive, about his experiences and the charms of his newfound theology. But I guess his conversion must have a negative side as well. I take it he rejects the idea of Jesus as being the best, most complete revelation of the character of the one God, and as being a needed mediator between God and humankind. But if I understand him, Sudduth still believes in one God, albeit one who is related to the cosmos somewhat as a human soul is related to its body. This entails rejecting the idea of God as creator, at least in an ex nihilo sense.

Also, I’m guessing there is a sort of acceptance of mythical lore - something traditional Christianity has always eschewed. However, I do know that a good number of Hindus hold Krishna to be a historical person, as well as an avatar of Vishnu.

Update: more thoughts and a link from the Maverick Philosopher. 

First, a few clarifications. By “modalist” I do not mean “Sabellian” or “monarchian.” (Those ancient catholics probably did hold to various forms of modalism, but the term is not a historical one, and can refer to other views which probably no ancient person held.) Nor do I mean modalism by definition to be heretical relative to orthodox/catholic creeds. What I mean is that at least one of these – Father, Son, Spirit – is a mode of the one God, in some sense a way that God is. That last phrase is deliberately ambiguous.

In his recent Christmas sermon the Pope said:

In all three Christmas Masses, the liturgy quotes a passage from the Prophet Isaiah, which describes the epiphany that took place at Christmas in greater detail: “A child is born for us, a son given to us and dominion is laid on his shoulders; and this is the name they give him: Wonder-Counsellor, Mighty-God, Eternal-Father, Prince-of-Peace. Wide is his dominion in a peace that has no end” (Is 9:5f.). … A child, in all its weakness, is Mighty God. A child, in all its neediness and dependence, is Eternal Father. …

God has appeared – as a child. It is in this guise that he pits himself against all violence and brings a message that is peace. (emphases and link added)

This last phrase, X has appeared as S, is ambiguous. It could mean that X has manifested as it really is, really being S. Or it could mean that X appeared to be (whether or not X really is) S. But given the Catholic theological tradition, I assume the first is meant here. God has appeared as a human baby, meaning, at least at that time, he really was a baby. This is not to comment on a quality or property he has; rather, the idea is that he was numerically identical to this baby. This baby, this little human self – was the same self as God. The one true God, that is, the Father, just was certain baby.

But doesn’t the Father differ from the Son, and from the Spirit? Sure. The child just is the Son. And this is a “guise” of God/the Father. The Son is a different guise than the Father, and both are different guises from the Spirit. Which is just to say, these three ways God acts are really three such ways.

The view seems to be this: God is a single self: the Father/Son/Spirit – call him what you will. Any two of those are the same god as one another, and so the same self as one another. If considered as guises, as ways of appearing to us, then they are different – the Father-guise is not the Son-guise, etc. But it is one and the same self who may, as it were, put any of them on.

Coincidentally, the Pope brings up St. Francis, saying that

Francis loved the child Jesus, because for him it was in this childish estate that God’s humility shone forth. God became poor. His Son was born in the poverty of the stable. In the child Jesus, God made himself dependent, in need of human love, he put himself in the position of asking for human love – our love. (emphases added)

Again, the baby (and so, the Son) is a guise of God – a way God appears and is. He continues with a bit of traditional human-reason-bashing, and then back to his main point:

…if we want to find the God who appeared as a child, then we must dismount from the high horse of our “enlightened” reason. We must set aside our false certainties, our intellectual pride, which prevents us from recognizing God’s closeness. … We must bend down, spiritually we must as it were go on foot, in order to pass through the portal of faith and encounter the God who is so different from our prejudices and opinions – the God who conceals himself in the humility of a newborn baby. (emphases added)

Suppose that a priest named Len is very learned. Yet when among simple folk, he adopts the persona of a simple man, so as to relate better to them. Learned Len conceals himself in Simple Len – for there is far more to Len than we see in Simple Len. In those moments, Len really is Simple Len – that’s really him, using simple words, eschewing the airs and manners of a scholar – he is really acting in that way. And yet, that way, that guise, is inherently misleading; it would naturally lead one to think Len to be unlearned. One could call Learned Len a “guise” of Len too, though it doesn’t tend to mislead about how he really is.

Simple Len and Learned Len aren’t two men any more than the Father and Son, in the Pope’s view, are two gods. They “are” the one God. Or more accurately, he thinks that God, the Father, appears as a human – the Son, the human being, is a guise of God. Of course, there’s more to God that we see in this baby (child, man) but that’s while God conceals himself, that is, certain features of himself, by appearing to us in this way.

This view of God and Jesus is arguably a theological disaster.

But am I right that this is the current Pope’s view? Can anyone point us to some other relevant statements by him?

Pictured here is Giovanni Francesco di Bernardone (a.k.a. St. Francis of Assisi, d. 1226 ) – my photo of a 19th c. statue from southern Arizona, probably well worn from processions and general fondling. I understand that he started, or at least popularized the building of manger scenes.

I remember reading his early biographies some years ago. I never could decide what to think: whether he was extremely holy, mentally ill, or both. Once a well known Christian philosopher who works in medieval philosophy described St. Francis to me as “a stinker” – I think the meaning was a sort of drama queen or manipulator. So that’s another option. But I remain perplexed.

Went to a Christmas eve service tonight. At one point the pastor said that the incarnation – that God became a human being – makes no sense to us, yet at some level we – i.e. all we Christians – believe it. If I were less tired, or in a different mood, this would induce a whole series of rants/lectures from me. But, not tonight. I will just say: I am grateful that God sent us his only Son, the perfect representation of him and sure way to him.

After the jump: another pic taken at the same place as the Francis pic. This time, someone indisputably both holy and sane, also celebrated Catholic-style. Merry Christmas!

Just in time for Christmas: 25% off at trinities books. Use the coupon code: BUYMYBOOK305. Coupon expires December 14, 2011. $50 Max Savings.  Update: misc. daily coupons up till Christmas. Some notable reprints, in no particular order:

• Moses Stuart, Letters on the Eternal Generation of the Son of God. - leading 19th c. American evangelical Bible scholar and theologian takes aim at what he thinks is a mistaken speculation, long before this was cool.
• Nathaniel Lardner, Lardner on the Trinity. - some short works by a super-heavyweight patristic scholar and one of the greatest Christian apologists of all time. Makes a case for humanitarian unitarian theology against various rivals.
• Thomas Belsham, A Calm Inquiry Into The Scripture Doctrine Concerning The Person of Christ. - unique, non-polemical but opinionated survey of various christologies, ultimately arguing for humanitarian christology. Very useful.
• Joseph Pohle, The Divine Trinity: A Dogmatic Treatise. - a thorough but pretty readable Roman Catholic account of trinitarian doctrine; a good place to start in sorting out dark talk of subsistent relations, perichoresis, eternal generation, and so on. Or, if you want to know about the hypostatic union, there’s this.
• Joseph Priestley,  A History of the Corruptions of Christianity – interesting polemic by bold but reckless polymath Joseph Priestley. Not always historically accurate, but worth a read.
• Samuel Clarke’s The Scripture Doctrine of the Trinity & Related Writings. - a lost classic by one of the greatest philosophical theologians of the early 18th century. This Anglican minister puts forward a strong case for subordinationist unitarianism based on scripture and the pre-Nicene “fathers.” Classifies and intelligently discusses all New Testament passages that have to do with the Trinity.
  
• William Christie, Dissertations on the Unity of God. - essays by a serious, talented amateur theologian and sometime minister who moved from trinitarianism, to subordinationist unitarianism, to humanitarian unitarianism.
• David James, A Short View of the Tenets of Tritheists, Sabellians, Trinitarians, Arians, and Socinians. - a short, irenic survey of various Christian theologies, in the end making a case for mutual tolerance, and for subordinationist unitarianism. Here’s a post with some quotes.
• William Jones,  In Defense of the Trinity. - popular 18th c.  trinitarian apologist, rebutting several unitarian opponents. Often not well argued, but it is interesting to see what he does and does not say. Some of these went through many editions, well into the 19th c.
• Thomas Emlyn, The Works of Mr. Thomas Emlyn - short controversial theological works by a virtuous, careful, thoughtful Christian who literally went to jail because of his convictions. The included An Humble Enquiry into the Scripture Account of Jesus Christ is an amazing little book. Includes an account of his life and works by his son.
• Edward Stillingfleet, A Discourse in Vindication of the Doctrine of the Trinity - very sophisticated trinitarian apologetic by prominent public intellectual, Anglican bishop, and theologian. Provides a mysterian defense of catholic trinitarian formulas against unitarian charges of unintelligibility and poor fit with the Bible, rebutting various late 17th c. “Socinian” sources.
• Friedrich Schleiermacher, On the Discrepancy Between the Sabellian and Athanasian Method of Representing the Doctrine of the Trinity - a short but dense work by Schleiermacher on ancient “monarchian” theologies – one of the very best things I’ve read on that obscure subject. Translated by Moses Stuart.
• John Wilson, Scripture Proofs and Scriptural Illustrations of Unitarianism. - amazingly comprehensive source, in some ways summarizing a lot of unitarian-trinitarian arguments of the early modern era. Anyone who thinks unitarian theologies are based on off-the-wall, obviously wrongheaded misreadings of the Bible, or on “rationalism” should give this a read!

(continued) Unbeknownst to Brian and Rich, powerful aliens from Alpha Centuri were listening in on their conversation. The aliens thought it a shame that Rush was not a musician. After some discussion, they decided to make a band which was otherwise just like Rush, but which was itself, or rather, himself, a musician – a power trio who was a virtuoso. For starters, they copied the patterns of Peart, Lee, and Lifeson, ensuring they could duplicate their musical abilities. Then, they set about making a power-trio-man.

It seemed to them that Lee was the font of Rush. So first they created the new Lee. But they made him with an unstoppable urge to rock, and a power, like theirs, to create things from nothing. He automatically gave rise to the new Lifeson, who immediately knew that while a guitarist and a bassist may jam together, the band would take on a whole new qualitative dimension were it to get an excellent drummer. And so Lee and Lifeson cooperated to bring into existence the new Peart. The three immediately knew that they had all it took to rock mightily, and so had no overriding motive to bring about a fourth band member. All of this happened in an instant, the moment Lee was made – he gave rise to Lifeson, and the two of them gave rise to Peart. Given the existence and nature of Lee (that is, the new one), it was inevitable that the new Lifeson and the new Peart should also exist. Thus was Rush 2.0 born.

If that were all the aliens had done, you’d probably think that this was the genesis of a band, but not of a power-trio-musician. But the aliens did more. First, they assured that Lee was a perfect musician, and that the other two were as well. Second, they built the three so that they could not but cooperate. None could grandstand, go his own direction, or lose concentration; when Rush 2.0 played, the three played perfectly together. Finally, they did this by tying the wills together in an odd way. Each was unable to make a choice unless each of the others consented; and all of this happened as quickly as one agent normally makes a decision. Truly, they played as one.

But the aliens decided that Rush 2.0 was not one musician. It was much like a musician – it was a unified source of actions, and one could imagine that it, like its parts, had a will of its own. But it had neither consciousness, nor knowledge, nor will, though it could be, confusingly, described as such, because each of its parts had those features.

But a few among these creative alien rock fans were not willing to give up. They modified Rush 2.0 into Rush 3.0, by giving the band’s members perfect access to one another’s thoughts, breaking down a sort of mental privacy that normally separates persons one from another. They thought that functional unity was not enough; what was needed to make the three one musician was “mutual interpenetration.” This involved the sort of telepathic transparency noted, but also required that the being of each should somehow overlap. First, they partially merged the bodies of the three so that they all shared a foot. This seriously complicated Peart’s drumming, but their virtuosity remained intact. But this seemed to make them just three cooperating, intimate musicians sharing a foot – not a musician. So they made the body overlap total.

In the end, Rush 3.0 looked like a one-man band. On stage, one observed just one figure with oddly incoherent features furiously playing some very odd instruments. But this one body was shared by three souls; three agents, their wills unbreakably tied together as described, and with total access to one another’s thoughts, continued to play together. As Rush 3.0 took the stage, the aliens observed that each man would introduce himself, taking turns with the one mouth, but no fourth musician would introduce himself.

The aliens decided that Rush 3.0, though it looked from the outside like a musician, was not itself a musician. A musician was a man, not a body, and Rush 3.0 consisted, for all their efforts, of three men, three very intimate and unified men sharing a body. The aliens couldn’t imagine any way to make them further overlap short of annihilating two of the there souls, and so, two of the three musicians. So, they gave up. At best, they could produce a mutant which could be mistaken for a power-trio-musician. Being scrupulously honest, they wouldn’t consider presenting this mutant to the masses and telling them that it was a musician. They decided that a guitar-bass-drums power trio would always be a trio of musicians, and never itself a musician. 

“Is this your first Rush concert?”

“Yes, I’m so excited.”

Rich and Brian had been talking about this for months. Like geeky hard rock fans worldwide, they had long been in awe of Neal Peart’s furious and precise drumming, Geddy Lee’s dancing bass and soaring vocals, and the rich textures and screams of Alex Lifeson’s electric guitar. This was their first Rush concert, and they crowded towards the entrance with thousands of other fans, many decked out in concert t-shirts.

But Rich and Brian had an edge over nearly all of them: backstage passes. “I can’t wait to meet him,” said Rich.

“Who?”

“Rush.”

Brian gave him a strange look but said nothing.

Rich continued, “I want to ask him how he came up with the lyrics for 2112, how many classical guitar lessons he took, and how he keeps his voice in shape.”

“You mean, you want to ask Neal the first question, Alex the second, and Geddy the third?”

“Sure – they’re all Rush. But I do think that Rush is the greatest rock musician ever.”

“Rich… Rush isn’t a musician. Rush is a band.”

“Yes, I know, but they play so well together, it is as if they were one musician – one musician playing three instruments at once – sometimes four, when Geddy uses the bass pedals and plays keyboard too. Man, Rush is the best. He’s so talented.”

“You mean, they’re so talented, right?”

“Strictly, yes. I think Rush is a real thing, with three musicians for parts, but it is not literally a person, much less a musician. But we can say, without confusion, that Rush plays a mean guitar, is an awesome drummer, and sings in a high, spacey way.”

“No, we can’t! If you said that, say, to your little brother, you would only confuse him. Remember, he thinks Pink Floyd is a guy whose first name is ‘Pink!’”

The concert was a memorable one, and Rich and Brian much enjoyed their brief backstage meeting with their heroes. To Brian’s relief, faced with the band itself, Rich seemed to drop his strange speculations, and only addressed questions to one musician at a time. Perhaps he realized that Rush itself would have no voice to reply, nor any thoughts to express. “A band,” thought Brian to himself, “is made of musicians, but is not itself a musician.”

Surely Brian’s last point is correct. We may disagree about whether the band Rush a thing in its own right or merely a collection of things, but all should agree that it is not a musician. And even if it is a thing, just because it is composed of musicians, just because it has musicians as parts, it doesn’t follow that it is a musician itself. It isn’t. When Rush is on stage, only three musicians are playing, not four – even when four instruments are being played.

(to be continued…)

I read most of MacDonald’s Deuteronomy and the Meaning of ‘Monotheism’. I found it helpful, but had some fundamental disagreements with it. Those another time.

The two have very different views of the OT & the issue of monotheism. To oversimplfy, MacDonald thinks that for a long time, Jews were polytheistic, then they became monotheists of a sort and changed older polytheistic OT texts to fit their new views. In contrast, Heiser thinks that all along they believed YHWH to be unique, although many could be called “elohim.” This is a very interesting disagreement, but  I won’t join the fray here.

Just a couple of comments.

Yes, monotheism is the belief that there there exists exactly one god. This sounds silly to say, but this has been denied repeatedly as of late.

Contra MacDonald’s first answer in the interview, the only real unclarity in this is what counts as a god, i.e. the concept of godhood.

The important issue here is the idea of monotheism, not the word “monotheism.” Yes, it is a fairly recent term, but I would argue, a helpful one – at least, once we make clear what is meant by the term “god.”

Heiser says, 

I don’t care for the modern definition as someone who accepts the Judeo-Christian canon.

Eh… how would accepting the authority of the Bible tell you that “monotheism” is or is not a helpful term? What matters, I think, would be theoretical considerations like classification and explanation. The question is: can the term earn its keep?

Heiser again,

The biblical writers used the term elohim to refer to half a dozen figures or entities in the unseen spiritual world (Yahweh, the elohim of Yahweh’s council, “demons” [Deut 32:17], the disembodied human dead [1 Sam 28:13], and angels [at least I’d argue for that on the basis of the plural verb in Gen 35:7 and its referent point]). The fact that they do that should tell us loudly and clearly that that they did not associate the term elohim with a specific set of attributes.

Oh, to the contrary – attributes implied would be: selfhood, being normally invisible, being powerful, being interested in what various humans are doing. What he means to say, is that “god” for the ancient Hebrews was not a kind-term, not assumed to refer to whatever has some metaphysical essence. That is correct, and I think the point applies far beyond ancient Hebrews and the term elohim.

We do that reflexively as moderns—we use “g-o-d” thinking of the singular being we know as the God of the Bible.

No, this is a different point than the previous, but again, he’s right. The point could be put thusly: we use “God” as a name or title for the God of Abraham (etc.).

Elohim is what I like to call a “place of residence” term. It doesn’t tell me what a thing is in terms of attributes; it tells me the proper domain of a thing. All elohim are members of the unseen spiritual world, their place of residence.

I don’t think that’s part of the meaning of “god,” but rather an image or assumption that may accompany it… But again, by his own words, it does imply that the bearer has certain attributes – what he means to say is that it doesn’t attribute any essence to the bearer, or assume that any being to whom the term applies has an certain essence (roughly, defining features).

He does believe monotheism, and that monotheism is assumed in all parts of the Bible. It’s just that they would deny that there was only one elohim, even while holding that one of those elohim was unique.

Hope ya’ll like the new blog theme… haven’t quite tweaked it to my satisfaction, but I think it is close.

Should be posting in the next few weeks on various themes.

Stephen Prothero

His latest book, God is Not One, is possibly the best introduction to a variety of religious traditions for the general reader. It’s well-written, informative, humorous, apt at comparing religions, and I would say pretty fair. I recommend it overall. The book is worth it just for his bashing of the soft-headed pluralism that infects so many popular books on religion. (Ch.1)

Less positively, Prothero’s outlook on religion is colored in many ways by the fact that he is an ex-Christian, having been raised as a mainline church. He sports of whole range of attitudes I see as deriving from this, or from this plus our present intellectual scene. Also, it strikes me that his childhood faith he left behind was just that. In any case, he has a nice way of wearing his inclinations on his sleeve. An author should be opinionated.

Here I want to ask: Is Prothero both fair and accurate in how he presents Christian belief? He says:

…the Christianity… of my childhood… was all about the doctrine of the Incarnation, which to me was as mysterious as adult life in general. According to this core Christian teaching, at the fulcrum of world history God took on the form of a helpless baby, born of a frightened young woman and held in the rough hands of a carpenter. “What if God was one of us?” asks the Joan Osborne pop song. Christianity responds, “He was!” (p. 68)

Well, is.

Again, at one level, 

There is the story of Jesus Himself, the God who is born in a manger… and dies on a cross… (p. 72, emphasis added)

So, “God,” presumably the only God (p. 68), is the man Jesus. The painting above is a portrayal of the day God himself died.

But given that Christianity’s is a “soft” monotheism (pp. 68-9), also

…Christians see God as a mysterious Trinity: there persons in one godhead, or as novelist J.C. Hallman brilliantly put it, “triplets perched on the fence between polytheism and monotheism.” (p. 69, emphasis added)

Prothero dutifully summarizes the Nicene creed on that page, but this discussion may confuse. If Jesus is God, and God is the Trinity, then don’t Christians think that Jesus is the Trinity? Or rather: why don’t they think that?

Given how much Christians care about doctrine (pp. 69-70) it would’ve been better say a bit more about, the fully evolved doctrine of Christ’s two-natures, and perhaps generation and procession, and the catholic view that the pre-human Jesus created the cosmos. Probably more too about why many Christians think that because of the atonement, Jesus must be “fully divine.” These things should get a least a mention, if you’re going to devote a couple of pages to Mormonism in the chapter.

He refers often to mystery, but not to the paradoxical beliefs which have so motivated Christians to employ the tools of philosophy and logic to exorcise apparent contradictions. For example, that the all-knowing God was an ignorant baby, or that an essentially immortal divine person died.

Finally, he’s happy to leave things unclear; but it would be worth pointing out, consistent with his emphasis on the “staggering” diversity in Christianity (p. 66) that some Christians understand the Trinity modalistically – as three ways one divine self lives – and others tritheistically – as three divine selves living in harmony.  To others, yes, as an mostly unintelligible mystery – but many thinking Christians are driven to come up with a more articulated view.

To answer my own questions:

• Fair? Yes, I would say fair enough. He’s more concerned to present Christianity at the popular level, than as believed by theorists. Nothing his says me strikes me as a misrepresentation, much less a malicious misrepresentation. 
• Accurate? It could be more accurate, I would say. He tends towards the view that too much interest in doctrine, in theological theories, in finely articulated and true religious beliefs, is… twisted, unhealthy, weird, maybe perverse. I see this attitude constantly popping up in the book. As someone who does philosophical theology and philosophy of religion for a living, I of course don’t agree! But I suggest he should correct for this, including at least the ideas noted above.

A few minor corrections: It’s no longer true that most Catholic Bibles do, but most Protestant Bibles don’t have explanatory notes. (p. 80) About his assertion that the Bible nowhere so much contemplates lesbianism (p. 95), that probably needs qualifying, in light of Romans 1. Mentioning “suburban megachurches and their confident sermons about how Jesus would vote” (p. 99) – that is, I think, largely an unfortunate stereotype based on exceptions rather than the rule. In my experience, which yes, includes some evangelical megachurches, pastors tend to be circumspect and generally non-partisan about politics, especially in the pulpit. Such culture-war rhetoric is out of place in the chapter.

Finally, I emphasize that it’s a very good book, packed with information, in world full of crappy books about religion. He loves his subject, and it shows. And he shows a proper sympathy for the traditions, and for the people within them. Reading it is like taking that good class on world religions or comparative religion that you wished you’d taken in college.

For those who enjoyed my previous posts (here and here) on avatars in Hinduism, here’s something I’ve done recently for a class I’m teaching – excerpts of the long (78 part!) ultra-hit Indian tv series Ramayan into movie form. (Here’s the whole series.) Yes, I watched the whole thing, over a couple of months, so you don’t have to. Grab some popcorn and check it out. My notes in the comment below will help you to bridge the plot-gaps.

This doesn’t directly have to do with Christian theology. My interest here was to illustrate the Hindu tradition for my students, specifically a popular, present-day, devotional Vaishnavite form.

Still, one can fruitfully apply philosophical analysis and comparison with Christian theology here:

• What’s presented here, despite appearances, is supposed to ultimately be monotheism. The one god is Vishnu, and the other gods and goddesses are just manifestations of him, him acting in different forms. This is clear when at one point the three functions of creation, preservation, and destruction are assigned to Vishnu. It’s modalism on a massive scale.
• The series asserts the primacy of Vishnu, even while bending over backwards to exalt Shiva as a great god and proper object of worship (and also the Great Goddess). He’s a perfect self, omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent, a se.
• Ram (aka Rama, pictured here – but in the movie, he’s not blue) is Vishnu’s manifestation as a human being, Vishnu incarnate, or in their terms, a descent (avatar) of Vishnu. The screenplay reflects the tensions in the various versions of the Ramayan – Does Ram know that he’s Vishnu? Is he merely feigning ignorance? Why does he keep saying he’s just a man? Is he in the end a real human being, or does he only appear to be one? Or does this not matter, since at bottom in some sense everything is Vishnu/Brahman?
• The screenplay repeatedly says that Vishnu and his descent as a man, are unfathomable, mysterious, beyond logic, etc.
• At the end, the movie presents Ram as the one god, the one ultimate being, of which the rest of the Hindu pantheon is a manifestation. (I’m talking about the worship song scene were Ram appears in the middle of a bunch of faces and bodies lined up all together.) But that’s because Ram is supposed to be numerically identical to Vishnu – they are one and the same.
• There are even parts of the series, not included here, in which Vishnu and Shiva seem to enjoy what some Christians call “perichoresis” or perfect fellowship; they worship each other, and dwell in the hearts of one another.
• The third member of the Trimurti (aka the “Hindu Trinity”) Brahma gets short shrift, like the Holy Spirit. While Brahma appears in a number of scenes (floating on a big pink lotus flower), he isn’t really worshiped, at least, not like Vishnu and Shiva are. At any rate, he’s presented as a manifestation of or attribute of Ram/Vishnu. This reflects the practice of Hinduism – my understanding is that Brahma as such (as opposed to as a member of the Trimurti) is not really a focus of devotion there.
• Ram is very much meant as a model of human behavior, an ideal human being, the way that Christians view Jesus. In many or most cases, Christians would agree with Hindus that his behavior in the Ramayana is indeed virtuous, though there would be some disagreements in the areas of filial piety, honor, and idolatry.
• As with Calvinism, here one is saved by grace, through faith. Note the ultimate fate of the villian Ravan here.

No, this doesn’t include anything from the 39-part 1989 follow-up series. I believe this features Ram un-descending back into Vishnu, but I haven’t gotten around to watching that one yet.

Which of these is false?

1. The Christian God is a self.
2. The Christian God is the Trinity.
3. The Trinity is not a self.

One option is to vote that none are false, since all are true. As I write this, 27% have picked this option. But this is a poor pick. This “is” here is the “is” of numerical identity throughout. Given this, it is impossible that all three be true; they are demonstrably inconsistent. (The logical form is: 1. g=s, 2. g=t, 3. -(t=s).)  At least one must be false.

• If 1 & 2, then not-3. If this God is a self, and is the Trinity, and it must be false that the Trinity is not a self.
• If 1 & 3 then not-2. If God’s a self, and the Trinity isn’t, then it must be false that God just is the Trinity.
• If 2 & 3 then not-1. If God’s the Trinity, but is not a self, then it is false that the Christian God is a self.

Why then do 27% opt for inconsistency (affirming all three)? I’m not sure.

• It could simply be desire for orthodoxy being stronger than the desire to avoid believing falsehoods.
• Or perhaps some imagine that “human logic” can be ignored; inconsistent claims may each be true, at least about God.
• Maybe it’s clinging to the mysterian hope that this must be a merely apparent contradiction, though no one can make that appearance recede.
• Or perhaps they’re misreading 1, as if it said only that the Christian God is personal - not a self, but somehow self-like or closely related to at least one self. (Compare: being a king vs. being kingly.) If this is the case, then when tutored on how “is” is meant here, such folk should probably pick another option. To avoid this confusion, we could rephrase the inconsistent triad thusly:
  1. The Christian God is a certain self.
  2. The Christian God is the Trinity.
  3. The Trinity is not any self.

  This triad has a different logical form (1. Ex (x=g & Sx)  2. g = t, 3. -Ex(x=t & Sx)), but the three are still demonstrably inconsistent. It’s just that the proof is harder. I think this is actually a better way to formulate the inconsistent triad. (Reading the logic I just gave: 1.  There exists some x which just is God and which is a self. 2. God just is the Trinity. 3. It’s not the case that there exists some x such that it just is the Trinity and it’s a self.)

Let’s run through the other options briefly. I list the poll percentages as of the writing of this post.

• If you deny 1 (29%), you’re probably some sort of “social” trinitarian. You think God is a group, a community, communion, a quasi-family, consisting of three divine selves.
• If you deny 3 (11%), you’re probably some sort of modalist. You think that God, that is, the Trinity, has a first-person point of view. He’s a self all right, though he operates in three different ways, as Father, Son, and Spirit, or maybe Creator, Redeemer, Sanctifier. He’s group-like perhaps, but is not literally a group. He’s a god, and the only god.
• If you deny 2 (33%), you’re probably some sort of unitarian. You think the one god is the Father, and that the Trinity isn’t a god, but is rather God, God’s Son, and God’s Spirit.

And since one can always tell what is true by consulting simple, tiny-sample internet polls, this shows that unitarianism is true… today.

And they add: the Word is God, and the Word became flesh.

Sounds like a change, doesn’t it? First, the Word is simply divine, and a moment later, he’s entered into a “hypostatic union” with a “complete human nature.”

Reformed philosophical theologian James Anderson takes a crack at this one. (HT: Triablogue.) I much like his set-up. I’m less keen on the solution. Short answer: it’s a mystery (apparent contradiction). You’ll have to read his post to see why I chose this pic.

A few quick comments: first, I’m with Craig. I don’t think his position implies any change in God. Rather: if God hadn’t created, he’d be timeless. But given that God has created, he’s “in time.” It seems to me that if there is time, there’s no where else to be. Our spatial metaphors (“outside” time, “above” time) are wrongheaded. So are the trapping metaphors (e.g. “bound by” time). If God freely chose to create, then he freely chose to operated “in time” and he’s not been “trapped” by anything other than logical consistency. Anderson wants there to be paradox (apparent contradiction) in Craig’s view, but I don’t see it.

Like many Christian philosophers, I agree with this crucial point by Anderson:

…the biblical statements about God not changing needn’t be taken in a way that rules out change in any sense. The focus in these texts is on God’s character and his faithfulness to his promises.

That’s right. So the “fathers” never had any good scriptural grounds for their belief in divine timelessness. It was all based on philosophical reasons, and I would say bad ones at that. But that’s another post.

The line that God only appears to change, but doesn’t really change, implies that he cannot ever genuinely respond to human beings. He does not open himself to be influenced either way by us. And arguably, that makes a real friendship with God impossible. But that such is possible, is at the very heart and soul of the whole Bible.

On to qua-stuff:

…we should say that Jesus was omniscient with respect to his divine natureand gained wisdom with respect to his human nature. On this basis, it seems natural to say that God the Son is timeless and unchangeable with respect to his divine nature but temporal and changeable with respect to his human nature.

The problem with this is that it seems that what you know-in-a-nature, you know. And what you don’t-know-in-a-nature, you don’t know. So this seems no improvement on just saying that Jesus knows and doesn’t know something, or that he knows all, and doesn’t know some. Oddly enough, I think James would agree.

Again, if some self has an essential nature which requires X, then he himself must be X. So with the two-natured Jesus, if the divine nature requires the impossibility of change, then Jesus can’t change. And if his human nature requires the possibility of change, then Jesus can change. So he can and he can’t.

But, he did. So, he can. Ergo, he was not divine and/or divinity doesn’t require the impossibility of change. Ergo, “classic” incarnation theory appears to be inconsistent with itself.

Again, I think James would agree! But maybe he’ll set me straight.

(click for image credit)

In his comment on my previous post, Brandon points out that he doesn’t assert the case described there to be a counterexample. Rather, he was wondering why it isn’t a counterexample; he was probing to see my response.

Fair enough. I’ve left the title of the post as is just for continuity with part 1.

The case Brandon described, was an omniscient God, who is both subject and object of knowledge of himself. God as knower is subject of knowledge but not object. But God as object is what is known, and not the subject of knowledge. So, don’t we here have something which is and isn’t intrinsically some way (being self-knowing) at a time? If so, the principle is false.

My response is that there is no reason to think this is a counterexample. At best, it just assumes the principle to be false, but doesn’t give us any reason to agree. “God as knower” just is “God as object” – of course, any self-knower just is that which is known by himself.

In Brandon’s original description of the case, he said, that

itself as object can’t have all intrinsic modes in common with itself as subject, because the intrinsic properties of objecthood and subjecthood themselves are different

I want to say that the concepts being an object of knowledge and being a subject of knowledge are different. Yet, it is obvious that one being may simultaneously satisfy both. Now if one satisfies the latter concept, this is because one presently has a certain mode, a certain mental state. But if one is an object of knowledge, this means that someone or other is knowing you, but it needn’t be the case that this is you. But when it is you, when you know yourself, what makes it true that you satisfy the concept of being an object of knowledge is that same mode that makes it true that you’re a subject of knowledge (of you). One could, I think confusingly, describe this as you-as-knower “intensionally differing from” you-as-known. But this is no difference in you, but only in how we refer to or think about you.

Finally, Brandon makes an interesting point:

x=y -> (Fx < -> Fy),

in other words, is only problematic in the cases you’re trying to work around if in those cases it really does matter (for whether F can apply to something) whether you are plugging something into x or plugging it into y. Since, ex hypothesi, we are plugging the same thing into x and y, that means that x and y must be taking the same value in different ways (i.e., they are intensionally different). The original only needs to be reformulated if intensional descriptions, like temporal or epistemic modalities, already can make a difference; if they don’t, your reformulated principle is unnecessary.

It may be unnecessary to get around “intensional descriptions” cases. For example,

1. Bob believes that Meat Loaf rocks.
2. But Bob doesn’t believe that Michael Lee Aday rocks.
3. Therefore, Meat Loaf isn’t Aday.

I think it is enough to point out that Bob does believe, of Aday, that he rocks. He doesn’t believe that the sentence “Michael Lee Aday rocks” is true. If read all de re (concerning the thing itself) 2 is false. If read read de dicto (concerning the sentence) then 3 doesn’t follow. If you read one premise de re and the other de dicto, 3 doesn’t follow.

I am more worried about intrinsic change. A cruder Leibniz’s Law seems to rule this out.

But the main reason I like my narrower principle is that it is sufficient to make my theological point, and by focusing on modes/intrinsic properties people (or most people!) easily see it to be true.

I think I neglected to answer Brandon’s question in a comment, whether or not I consider all modes to be non-relational. Well, I don’t think that any are relations, which as it were “obtain between” things. But a mode may be directed towards something, itself, or something else, even something unreal. Still, a mode is, as it were, within the boundaries of its owner; but like a vector, it may point in a direction. A mode can be “relational” in that it is part of what makes some statement with a relation-term true. e.g. This basketball is bigger than this golfball. What makes this true is that basketball’s mode of being, e.g. 12 inches in diameter, and the golf ball’s mode of being 1.5 inches in diameter.

Bonus video:

Aside for non-philosophers: philosophers are usually after universal principles, truths which hold in all cases, rather than mere non-universal generalizations, i.e. rough rules of thumb which have exceptions. (An example of the latter: Boys love trucks.) Thus, when a philosophers makes a (universal) claim, other philosophers come along and try to show that it is false with “counterexamples” – real, or even merely possible, examples which show the principle to be false (as it doesn’t apply to them). For example, if someone says that all Texans love tacos, a counterexample to this would be a person who is from Texas and doesn’t like them. Just one counterexample is enough to show a universal claim to be false. When provided with a counterexample, of course, one will often refine, as it were, the original claim (e.g. All native Texans love tacos, or All Texans who appreciate Tex-Mex food love tacos) and the game goes on. This is all in the interest of discovering together what is true and what is false. (In my example, of course, those “refinements” would admit of easy counterexamples too.)

So my principle said, to paraphrase, that for any x and y, x just is (=) y, only if they don’t ever intrinsically differ. (I put this in terms of one having a “mode” at a time if and only if the other also has that mode at that time. Others would call these “intrinsic properties.”)

Here our friend, philosopher and blogger Brandon offered a counterexample, in comment #35 on that post.

if there is any entity that necessarily knows itself completely, its being both a subject of self-knowledge and an object of self-knowledge would seem like an intrinsic property. Now, if its complete self-knowledge is genuine, itself as known by itself just is itself as knowing itself. But itself as object can’t have all intrinsic modes in common with itself as subject, because the intrinsic properties of objecthood and subjecthood themselves are different: objecthood and subjecthood are intensionally different and this is essential to what they are. Thus it would seem that itself as subject and itself as object are intensionally different, that this intensional difference is intrinsic. So it seems at first glance that we have itself as subject just being itself as object, and yet itself as subject being distinct as to intrinsic modes from itself as object. I assume you’ve considered cases like this, so the question is, why isn’t this a counterexample?

Brandon is describing a case where, in his view, x = y and yet it is false that one intrinsically is a way if and only if the other is too. In other words, this is supposed to be an example of it being true that x = y and yet x and y differ. In subsequent exchange (comment 47) Brandon accepts my paraphrase of this in terms of God-as-subject and God-as-object. He’s assuming those are numerically identical yet they differ. How so?

That God as subject is subject and God as object is object.

In other words, the first is subject of knowledge but not object of knowledge, and the second is object but not subject.

I’ve granted earlier in the discussion that being a subject of some knowledge (e.g. knowing that pizza usually has cheese) is a “mode” or an intrinsic property of a person. So if there is any actual or possible case in which something simultaneously has and lacks this mode, then my principle is false.

I’m not sure he’s given us this. But let’s see what else he says:

After all, it’s at least enough to distinguish them that we can put God, under the intension of ‘subject’, into x, and God, under the intension of ‘object’, into y, and keep the two distinct all the way through. If this kind of intensional distinction is or can be a distinction in intrinsic modes of subjects as opposed to those of objects, then the consequent equivalence is broken without breaking the antecedent identity. If extensionally identical values of variables can under any circumstances have intensionally distinct intrinsic modes, the conditional doesn’t hold for those.

Whew – the philosophy lingo is coming hard and heavy here! Let me try to translate or paraphrase:

First sentence: we have concepts of being known, and of knowing. And we can think of God in either way – as being known (by himself) or as knowing himself. When we think of God in the first way, let’s call that x, and when we think of him in the second way, call that y.

Second sentence: this x and y differ, and if this can be a difference of mode/intrinsic property, then Dale’s principle is false. (It would be true that x = y, but false that they don’t differ – so the whole thing, that x = y only if they don’t differ, would be false).

Third sentence: the x and y refer to the same thing (are “extensionally identical”) yet x differs from y. Booya!

Brandon continues:

All identity statements have to assume that some intensional distinctions don’t matter. In x=y, we obviously are intensionally treating x and y differently in some sense — they get different letters to indicate that they are different variables and they have different locations in the equation (to the left and the right of the equality sign, for instance). We simply assume that these can be ignored to make sense of the statement as an identity statement; this allows us to focus on purely extensional matters. It’s when we get into the sorts of intensions that are typically handled by things like modal operators that things get tricky. It’s precisely this that causes problems for the standard version of the Indiscernibility of Identicals — it fails in certain kinds of plausible temporal logics, epistemic logics, etc. (because it fails to take the quirks of the relevant intensions into account), which is equivalent to saying that you can propose temporal, epistemic, etc. scenarios that are plausible counterexamples.

I would say yes, an identity sentence treats “x” and “y” as different terms. But this doesn’t assume any difference whatever in that to which those terms refer. But a sentence like “x = y” is not asserting the terms to be one, but rather the things. I don’t think any differences are being ignored; all agree that we can refer to things using different words. About these other alleged counterexamples – let’s just deal with this one first.

I’ll pause here to make sure I’m getting all this right; I’ll respond in my next post.

It depends on what it takes to be a real god…

Hindus who believe in avatars, and catholic Christians say: yes, this is possible, for it has been actual.

In Hinduism, this is particularly emphasized in Vaishnavite traditions, in Christianity, Roman Catholicism.

They of course differ about which god this was.

For other Christians, the answer is no.

In a previous post, I commented that there is something pleasing about the idea that a mighty god stooped to become a small, weak baby.

This time: story of Vishnu incarnate has been updated.

My edit, with comments, after the break.

(On the youtube page, the times below are clickable – click “Show more” there.)

• 0:01 To everything, there is a season…
• 0:31 This looks like a job for… Vishnu!
• 0:42 King Dashrath was almost killed in battle. Now, he’s concerned that his line should continue. He and his three queens consult with his the royal guru.
• 1:18 It’s nothing a little Vedic ceremony won’t fix.
• 1:47 But not just anyone can perform that rite…
• 2:33 A theophany of Vishnu as an electric ball of light.
• 4:41 Rite time, rite place.
• 5:00 That was quick! Better stock up on diapers.
• 5:52 Shiva, Brahma, and misc. divinities, gurus etc. acknowledge that something important is about to go down.
• 6:41 An out-of-body experience. Meet your future baby, Queen Kaushalya (Lord Vishnu). He reminds me of a young Paul Stanley.
• 7:52 She gets her wish: a son like Vishnu. But only Vishnu himself is qualified.
• 8:39 “Om” a holy syllable, expressing God’s essence – “namo” hail – “Narayana” an old divine title, applied to Vishnu.
• 8:45 Heavenly and earthly beings celebrate the birth of Ram (Rama) and his brothers. Ram = Vishnu.
• 10:40 The wrath of God.
• 11:00 A paradoxical musical number. God gets a bath, is dressed by Mommy, takes a nap, gets fed, and so on.
• 12:16 God is very cute.
• 13:03 God toddles.
• 14:16 Moms love that, even the mother of God.

Another answer: here.  (HT: kingdomready.)

Evidently, Fred Sanders isn’t the only theological cartoonist out there. But I do prefer his cuddly lecturing bear Dr. Doctrine.

Commenters: please link your best God, Trinity, or Jesus related cartoons. Only requirements: that they be at least mildy amusing, and not too offensive.

Re: “Herman & Nudix“. True story: in Christian college c. 1990, some yahoo buddies and I ran an imaginary person for Student Association President. Made up a hilarious trifold campaign handout, and other silly promotional materials. He got 4% of the vote. His name: Herman Ootics (full name: Herman J. Ootics III). Yeah, some theology nerds got a kick out of that name. I should post the awesome pic we used some time.