JT

 

I'm a hybrid. I'm made of lines, but I also shine (as indicated by more lines).

In the last post, I explained that Nestorians believe that a complete individual human nature is indiscernible from an individual human person.

Monophysites also take this idea very seriously. In fact, the Monophysite takes very seriously the more general claim that a complete individual nature of any kind is indiscernible from the corresponding individual that belongs to that kind (for instance, a complete individual cow-nature just is the individual cow in question). So if there are two natures in Christ, then there will be two individuals that correspond to each of those natures.

But the Monophysite does not want to say that there are two persons in Christ, so he will insist that there is just one nature in Christ. That way, there will just be one person. But since Christ is both human and divine, this one nature must be a special hybrid of divinity and humanity.

The strongest form of Monophysitism would claim that this hybrid Christness-nature has all divine properties, and all human properties. This, however, is incoherent, for it would amount to two persons as well. After all, having all the divine properties is sufficient for membership in God’s-kind, and having all human properties is sufficient for membership in human-kind. There would, then, still be two natures, which contradicts the initial claim that there is just one (allegedly) hybrid nature. Continue reading »

 

Don't let my flowing white locks fool you. I have sound ideas.

In the last post, I explained that an individual human nature is indiscernible from an individual human person.

The Nestorianism takes this point very seriously. As she sees it, if the Word (= the second person of the Trinity) assumes a complete individual human nature, then the Word assumes a discrete human person too, for a complete individual human nature is completely indiscernible from a discrete human person. But the Word is already a discrete person, namely a divine person, so the question is this: is the divine person identical to the assumed human person?

Continue reading »

 

The Borden Company's KLIM (tm) powdered whole milk has everything you need for a nutritious life.

In the last post, I classified Monophysitism, Chalcedonianism, and Nestorianism. All three of these must grapple with a basic philosophical issue, namely this: a complete indvidual human nature brings along with it everything required for being a discrete human person.

Note that ‘individual human nature’ does not mean the humanity in the human in question (readers of scholastic philosophy are often tempted to think that). Rather, it means the humanity plus any individuating features, whatever they might be (a haecceity, a unique collection of accidents, or whatever). That is, an individual human nature is whatever it is that makes an individual human the particular human that it is.

For instance, if some x has a complete individual human nature, then one might say that x has the relevant kind of organic body, the ability to take in and process nutrients, grow, be sentient, think and love, and so on, and all of these things are what being a particular human consists in.

However, these also seem to be the very things that being a particular human person consists in too. After all, it is hard to imagine a human person without the relevant kind of organic body, the ability to process nutrients, be sentient, think and love, and so forth. To be all these things is just what it means to be a particular human person.

So on the face of it, it looks as if being an individual human is the very same as being an individual human person. That is, if one has a complete individual human nature, then they have everything needed to be a discrete human person too. Or, to put it another way, an individual human is completely indiscernible from the corresponding individual human person.

 

We're here to defend the faith against heresy!

The Council of Chalcedon (451 CE) condemned Monophysitism and Nestorianism. The following table helps to classify Monophysitism, Nestorianism, and Chalcedonianism.

Nestorianism: 2 natures, 2 persons
Chalcedonianism: 2 natures, 1 person
Monophysitism: 1 nature, 1 person

Continue reading »

 

If the circle and triangle overlap, that's bad. If they don't overlap, that's bad too.

These days, when analytic philosophers of theology talk about the Incarnation, they often say things like ‘if such-and-such, then such-and-such, but that would be Nestorianism’. The implication, of course, is that landing oneself in Nestorianism would be a very bad thing.

But why? Perhaps a lay person might want to avoid Nestorianism because they were told it was a ‘heresy’. But a hard-core Christian philosopher, I think, would want to be more explicit about saying just what Nestorianism is, and provide some reason for why they want to avoid it (rather than just asserting that some position is Nestorian).

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"Have you seen this baby? We're dead serious, you know."

"Have you seen this baby? We're dead serious, you know."

In the last three posts, I explained Richard’s argument for why there must be two distinct persons who charitably love each other. Here I want to raise some objections to three of Richard’s claims.

Continue reading »

 
Equals. Period. None have been greater.

Equals. Period. None have been greater.

STAGE 3. Next, Richard tries to establish that God can only charitably love an equal. He introduces this idea by raising the following objection: if God must direct his charitable love at a distinct person, then why couldn’t he direct his charitable love at a created person? That would satisfy T5 from the last post, so that should be enough to perfect God’s charitable disposition, right?

Continue reading »

 
“Steven, let’s look over there and pretend like we don’t see that floating head.”

“Steven, let’s look over there and pretend like we don’t see that floating head.”

STAGE 2. In this stage, Richard tries to show that perfect charity must be directed at another person. Here’s the quotation:

‘no one is properly said to have charity on the basis of his own private love of himself. And so it is necessary for love to be directed toward another for it to be charity’.

Continue reading »

 
“Listen Luke, Claudia and I have something to tell you. This comes from a good place, because we love you. It’s the 1980s now. Less gel, more blow dry.“

“Listen Luke, Claudia and I have something to tell you. This comes from a good place, because we love you. It’s the 1980s now. Less gel, more blow dry.“

STAGE 1. In this stage, Richard wants to show that God’s perfect goodness somehow requires that God is perfectly charitable. I say ‘somehow requires’ because the logical relation here is not clear. Richard is saying ‘God’s goodness _____ perfect charity’, but what fills in the blank? Is it ‘entails’, ‘presupposes’, or some other logical relation?

Here’s the actual quotation, with the particular claims marked in brackets.

‘[T1] there is [in God] fullness and perfection of all goodness. [T2] However, where there is fullness of all goodness, true and supreme charity cannot be lacking. [T3] For nothing is better than charity; nothing is more perfect than charity’.

Let’s look at T1, T2, and T3 in turn.

Continue reading »

 
Could Krystle, Blake, and Alexis Carrington NOT have been a dynasty? I think not.

Could Krystle, Blake, and Alexis Carrington NOT have been a dynasty? I think not.

Richard of St. Victor is well known for his argument that perfect love must be shared between three persons, and since God’s love is perfect, there must be three persons in God. Richard presents this argument in Book 3 of his De Trinitate, and that’s what we’ll be looking at in this series of posts.

Continue reading »

 
Thinking about fatherhood is fun.

Thinking about fatherhood is fun.

In this series of posts, I’ve been discussing the view of Arius that the Son is created from nothing, and the view of Athanasius that the Father begets the Son. All of this illustrates two basic issues that any classical account of the Trinity has to face when it tries to explain how one divine person produces another.

First, we need to think carefully before we identify God with any one divine person. As the old saying goes, that would ‘confound the essence with the persons’. If we do identify God with any one divine person, then we need to explain how the other persons inherit divine properties, and as I hope is clear by now, that’s not necessarily an easy task.

One way to avoid this whole problem is just to say that the Godhood is an ingredient that all three persons share, but which is not identical to any of them. Of course, this entails saying that the Father is not simple, and that he does have a distinct ingredient within himself, namely the Godhood. But I see no problem with this. If it’s okay to say that the Godhood is an ingredient in the Son (as Athanasius claims), then surely it’s okay to say that the Godhood is an ingredient in the Father too.

However, some theologians find this idea worrisome. As they see it, if we say that the Godhood is some distinct ingredient that is not identical to any of the persons, then it looks as if there are four things there, namely the Father, Son, and Spirit, plus the Godhood itself. And that, in turn, makes the persons look irrelevant. After all, all the really good stuff (like omnipotence and omniscience) belongs to the Godhood, so what’s the need for the persons?

The second issue is this: how do we distinguish between producing a divine person and creating something out of nothing? The Creeds are emphatically clear that the Son is not created out of nothing, and so any account of the Son’s production that aims to be faithful to the Creeds must show how the Son is not created.

This is an important question for so-called ‘social views’ of the Trinity. For instance, Richard Swinburne believes that the three divine persons are entirely distinct individuals; they do not share any ‘ingredients’, and they each exemplify the divine properties separately (that is, divine properties are instantiated three times — once in the Father, once in the Son, and once in the Spirit). On this view, it looks as if the Father produces the Son without any ‘pre-existing ingredients’ (in my sense of the word), and by my definition of creation, that would mean that the Son is created from nothing.

One might object that for Swinburne, the Son is necessarily produced eternally, and since the Son is necessary and doesn’t begin to exist at some point in time, he’s not created. However, I’m not convinced that creation can’t be necessary and eternal. As I said earlier, many philosophers throughout history have believed that creation is, in fact, necessary and eternal, so why isn’t Swinburne’s account of the Son’s production a similar case?

To wrap up this whole series, let me just say that although I’ve only discussed what Arius and Athanasius have to say about how the Son is produced, they are not the only theologians with interesting theories about this. Theologians before, during, and after them deserve attention too, and such attention would, I think, enrich our own discussions today.

Indeed, so much of our own philosophical theology focuses its attention on the identity and distinction of the divine persons. While this is certainly an important topic, it is not the only problematic aspect of the doctrine of the Trinity. I hope that my discussion here makes it clear that divine production is another topic that could stand the scrutiny of more sharp minds.

 
Son, I know you want it, but you just can't have my triangle.

Son, I know you want it, but you just can't have my triangle.

Last time, I explained that Athanasius has not made it clear how the Son ‘inherits’ divine properties from the Father. Yet even if Athanasius could explain how the Son ‘inherits’ properties from the Father, there’s still another problem. Like Arius, Athanasius believes that the Father is simple, and so anything ‘in’ the Father is, strictly speaking, identical to the Father. If the Son is going to inherit any properties from the Father, then surely he’d have to inherit them all. As Athanasius himself realizes, it’s not a question of the Son inheriting part of the Father. It’s a question of all or none.

However, there are certain properties the Son cannot inherit from the Father, on pain of contradiction. For instance, the Son cannot inherit the Father’s unbegotteness. The Son is begotten, but the Father is not, so the can’t inherit the Father’s unbegotteness without entailing a contradiction.

Continue reading »

 
The Father and Son look just alike!

The Father and Son look just alike!

In the last two posts, I looked at Athanasius view that the Father begets the Son much like how human fathers beget human sons. But Athanasius’ view raises some interesting questions.

One of the things Athanasius likes about natural procreation is that sons get their natures from one of their ingredients, namely the substance they get from their fathers. For example, in God’s case, the Father is an ingredient in the Son, and the Son inherits his divine properties from that ingredient. However, the Son is not identical to the Father, and it’s not clear to me how the Son is supposed to ‘inherit’ properties from something he’s not identical to.

Continue reading »

 
This diagram from the 1970s says it all.

This diagram from the 1970s says it all.

Last time, I explained that Athanasius thinks human fathers procreate sons by giving a part of their substance to the mother, and that bit of substance then becomes an ingredient in the zygote, and the zygote inherits its human nature from that ingredient.

Athanasius thinks this basic model applies to God too, though he is careful to make an important qualification: human fathers beget sons by giving up a part of their substance, but God the Father gives his whole self to his Son, not a part.

Continue reading »

 
Hey mom! I got my substance from daddy!

Hey mom! I got my substance from daddy!

In the last two posts, I explained that Arius believes the Son is created from nothing. Athanasius, for his part, denies this. As he sees it, the Son is begotten, and here, ‘begetting’ (or ‘generating’, as it’s also called) is a technical term for the natural process of procreation, as when living organisms produce offspring. For Athanasius, the Son really is a son; he’s the natural offspring of the Father.

Continue reading »

 
Air dancing is the best!

Air dancing is the best!

Last time, I explained that Arius believes there can only be one unproduced producer, and that’s the Father. The Son, by consequence, is produced, but there’s nothing controversial about saying that. Arius gets controversial when he tries to explain how the Son is produced. As Arius sees it, if the Father produced the Son with any ‘pre-existing ingredients’, he’d either have to use created ingredients, or he’d have to use some ingredient taken from within himself (those are the only two options). But Arius thinks neither of these are open to the Father.

Continue reading »

 
Son, I know it's hard, but could you just TRY and smile for the camera?

Son, I know it's hard, but could you just TRY and smile for the camera?

So far, we’ve established that something is created from nothing if it’s produced without any pre-existing ingredients (see this one for a quick summary). Arius, for his part, believes that the Son is produced in just this way. In this post, I want to start looking at Arius’ argument for this conclusion.

Continue reading »

 
God, giving a shout-out to all his hombres. Or he's creating the universe.

God, giving a shout-out to all his hombres. Or he's creating the universe.

In the last two posts, I explained what I mean by ‘pre-existing ingredients’. In the first of those two posts, I said that an ‘ingredient’ in a product is something that is (i) in the product, and (ii) not identical to another ingredient or to the whole product. In the second of those two posts, I explained that an ingredient is ‘pre-existing’ if it’s not produced by the same productive act that brings the product into being.

Now that I’ve made the sense of these terms clear, we can formulate a more precise definition of creation. Earlier, I said that something is created from nothing if it’s produced without any pre-existing ingredients. That’s the loose definition. Here’s the more precise definition: a producer creates a product from nothing if and only if the producer causes the product itself and each of its ingredients to come into being by the same productive act. So:

Creation:
For any x and y, x creates y from nothing
by a productive act P =df iff
(i) x causes y to exist by P, and
(ii) for any ingredient F in y,
x causes F to exist by P.

On this definition then, something is created from nothing if it’s produced without any pre-existing ingredients, and something is not created from nothing if it’s produced with at least one pre-existing ingredient (in my sense of ‘pre-existing ingredients’). It just takes one pre-existing ingredient to show that something is not created.

I presume that this definition also applies to cases where multiple producers work together to create something from nothing. Suppose, for example, that God the Father creates Socrates’ body, and God the Son creates Socrates’ soul. By my definition of creation, the Father alone doesn’t create Socrates. He only creates Socrates’ body. Likewise, the Son doesn’t create Socrates either, for he only creates Socrates’ soul. But taken as a single productive unit, the Father and Son jointly create Socrates from nothing.

With this definition of creation in mind, we can now turn to the disagreement between Arius and Athanasius. As I said above, Arius thinks the Father creates the Son out of nothing, but Athanasius denies this. In the next post, I will turn to Arius.

 
It's easy to make things with pre-prepared ingredients!

It's easy to make things with pre-prepared ingredients!

In the last post, I explained that something is ‘created from nothing’ when it’s produced without any pre-existing ingredients. I also explained that by ‘ingredient’ I mean any sort of constituent which satisfies the following two conditions: first, it exists in the product; and second, it bears its own properties, i.e., it has features that other ingredients in the product do not have, and which the product itself does not have. In this post, I will explain what I mean by ‘pre-existing’.

Continue reading »

 
Well Dad, I just don't understand why we had to make them so small.

Well Dad, I just don't understand why we had to make them so small.

As I said last time, Arius maintains that the Son is created from nothing (ex nihilo), but Athanasius denies this. Much of the discussion depends on what these authors mean by ‘creation’. Before we go any further then, it will be helpful to establish a working definition for ‘creating something from nothing’. This requires some care, because we’re after a definition that both Arius and Athanasius would agree to. But so long as we make the right qualifications, I think that Arius and Athanasius do agree on what it means to create something from nothing.

Just so we have a rough idea of what we’re talking about, let me begin by describing creation in the following way: something is created from nothing if it’s produced without any pre-existing ingredients. Now, that’s a very loose way of putting it, but it makes the basic idea clear enough. We know that things get produced with pre-existing ingredients all the time. Masons build walls with bricks and mortar, cavemen make charcoal with fire and wood, humans procreate with sperm and eggs, and so on. But none of that counts as a creation. Something is created from nothing only when it’s produced without any pre-existing ingredients.

Continue reading »

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