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.

In his excellent entry “Relative Identity“ veteran logican and philosopher of language Harry Deutsch says about the best that can be said for relative identity theories – that maybe, arguably, they solve or help to solve various metaphysical problems. See his sections 2 and 4 for these. His section 5 is a penetrating analysis of Geach’s very hard to follow arguments.

Deutsch’s point of view is very different from that held by most philosophers. For this, see chapter 1 of Colin McGinn’s Logical Properties. (NDPR review.) This is more or less  the “orthodox” view that most philosophers hold, atheist or theist, trinitarian or not. I largely agree with it, except for its Platonic aspect. I uphold the logic of identity as McGinn understands it, but do not want to commit to the existence of abstracta like relations. I think the truthmaker of a sentence like “Dubya just is George Bush” is going to be a concrete object, the ex-president himself. In this, I’m in the minority; most philosophers find abstracta indispensible.

Another place one can start is Harold Noonan‘s excellent “Identity” entry. He’s an excellent philosopher, and the piece has many virtues; in particular, see his section 2 on Leibniz’s Law vs. substitutivity principles.

The best thing I’ve ever read on identity and relative identity is John Hawthorne’s chapter “Identity” in The Oxford Handbook of Metaphysics. A version is available to scribd users here.

• This piece is very rich, and defies easy summary.
• A basic point is that “identity” in a basic, unanalyzable concept, and so we ought not worry about circular definition. Geach’s failure to recognize this is a core problem with his whole project. (p. 122)
• Hawthorne’s section 3.1 brings out the many problems facing Geach’s project. His conclusion: “In sum: it is no mere artefact of philosophical fashion that Geach’s relative identity approach has few adherents.” (p. 123) You’ll have to read the piece to see why.
• Another basic, crucial point, I would paraphrase as follows. (p. 100) We all understand “something is cold and fizzy”. The shows that we have a concept of identity; if that sentence is true, the cold thing just is the fizzy thing. Contrast with the sentence: “something is cold, and something is fizzy.” That we have this concept of identity, of course, doesn’t imply that we understand identity-logic, or have any theoretical opinions on the subject at all.
• Hawthorne’s main point is that “Puzzles that are articulated using the word ‘identity’ are not puzzles about the identity relation itself.” (p. 99) When I think about the many metaphysical treatments I’ve read recently of the puzzles Deutsch discusses, I think this is an emerging consensus. There are always other moves to be made, and all sorts of weird metaphysical doctrines to be brought into play. But the emerging consensus is that identity is to be held constant; the concept of identity is common coin in these disputes, just as is, say, the assumptions that modus ponens is valid, or that no contradiction is true.
• By the examples he gives, it is plain that Hawthorne is well aware that evaluating Trinity and Incarnation theories necessitate careful thinking about identity, but he doesn’t ever entry the fray. (But he almost does – see p. 120 fn. 38.)

Be forewarned; there are pervasive confusions about numerical sameness among Christian theologians nowadays, in particular about personal identity (the relation being the same self as). This is largely due, I think, to uncritical reliance on poorly done philosophy. This is not due to any intrinsic difference between the fields or any commitment intrinsic to Christianity, as there are and have been theologians who are thoroughly clear-headed about identity. The solution is to digest well done philosophy, so as to be able to make clear distinctions and to reason surefootedly; that’s the reason for this post. Don’t give in to the temptation to foolishly heap scorn on “absolute” identity or on Leibniz’s Law, as if they were mere speculations, and things to which you yourself are not committed.

This is my last entry in the discussion; I may or may not comment, but no more posts.

Again, this is what I hear from him:

• Yes, the divine nature is a universal, shared by the Three. But let’s not make any Platonic assumptions about forms/universals being in some other realm than what has them, or being more fundamental.

Indeed, let’s not.

Are the persons parts of the Trinity, for him?

He brings up the Mandelbrot set. This is an abstract object. It doesn’t have parts, but rather members. Is he suggesting that the Trinity is a set, with members rather than parts? That it has infinite members? I don’t know.

Then, a digression about analogy. Of course, my point was: don’t you think God is literally a self? (Not: Is God analogous to a self?)

Perhaps he assumes that all terms that apply to God do so only analogically. I think that’s obviously false; we have terms that express concepts abstract to be satisfied by either God or a creature. e.g. “exists,” “conscious,” “similar to God.”

Or maybe he’s just worried about painting himself into the Quaternity corner.

I think Tuggy is now insinuating that the Trinity devolves into the Quaternity.

There goes that Tuggy again, insinuating things about the doctrine! No, the subject is just: what Steve Hays thinks.

The Trinity would not be a “self” in the same sense that the constituent members are “selves.” The Trinity is not a fourth person, over and above the three persons. Rather, each person is conscious of what the other two are conscious of. Not just that each person is conscious of the other two persons, but conscious of their consciousness.

So no, the Trinity isn’t a self in the same sense each person is. This conveniently leaves it an open question whether or not it is a self in any other sense, and whether it’s literally a self, or only analogous to a self.

But perhaps his final answer is that it (the Trinity) really is an it, not a he.

The “owner” of the “corporate viewpoint” is each member of the Trinity. That’s because each person not only has his own first-person viewpoint, but is also privy to the viewpoint of the other two.

I conclude, then, that in his view there are three, not four conscious beings here, and three points of view. It’s just that each also can (and always does, I assume) adopt the viewpoint of both the others.

About his “data” of revelation; he’s unable to see that some of these are precisely what are at issue. In other words, he begs the question, because he’s not able to adopt the perspective of those he would refute.

Now, finally: I switch to brief criticism:

This looks to me basically like a poorly developed “social” Trinity theory

We have three beings here, each of which fully has the property of divinity. Thus, it looks like we have three gods. Yes, I know that surely he intends it to be monotheistic. So, the theory seems inconsistent.

What is the Trinity? A group? A composite thing? A set with members? A quasi-self? He doesn’t know. But it seems that he wants to deny the one God to literally be a self. If so, he goes hard against the Bible, throughout. God knows, acts, gets mad, makes and carries out plans, stands in an I-thou relationship to Jesus, as well as to disciples of Jesus. Further, I’m willing to bet that like just about all Christians, he interacts with God as a self to a self.

Evidently, Steve hopes that positing perfect mental access between the three deities will somehow imply their being one god. But, that has not been shown. It looks like a picture of three gods with perfect access to each others’ minds.

I think this is all a poor fit with the Bible.

But laying aside that, is it creedally orthodox? Not clear. While the creeds say that all three must be “homoousios”, they also say that the Son is true God from true God. In Steve’s theory, does the Son derive his existence or divinity from the Father? I don’t know. All he’s said is that all three equally and fully possess divinity. So, I don’t know if his theory is orthodox by (small-c) catholic standards.

Update: as of 7/5/11, lots more long posts, with lots of accusations, flailing away to find some obvious confusion in my own views, but never addressing this monotheism objection. To the creedal worry, his answer is that being a Protestant, he doesn’t care if it is creedal or not. Fair enough. I’ve commented quite a bit over there, probably too much.

A lesson in epistemic humility from a great master of 20th century literature:

‘You are a slow learner, Winston,’ said O’Brien gently.

‘How can I help it?’ he blubbered. ‘How can I help seeing what is in front of my eyes? Two and two are four.’

‘Sometimes, Winston. Sometimes they are five. Sometimes they are three. Sometimes they are all of them at once. You must try harder. It is not easy to become sane.’

(George Orwell, 1984)

Winston here doesn’t get it. It seems to him that 2 + 2 = 4 – always! And always, because it is necessarily so; it seems to Winston impossible that adding two to two not result in four. He can see that it is with his eyes, and “see” that it must be with his mind. Or, so he thinks.

O’Brien explains that the Magisterium of the Party is to be trusted above one’s own intuitions. If they say it is three, then it is three. And should that say it is five, it would be five. If they say it is 3 and 4 and 5 – then so be it. Sanity involves trusting their judgements over your own; theirs trump yours. You must know your place, citizen. Only an extreme individualist would disagree.

Is it an apparent contradiction (aka positive mystery)? Sure. Winston seems to think this is somehow a problem.

But is it any surprise that the collective wisdom of The Party should surpass that of a puny, recently born creature like yourself? After all, the Party consists of humans like you, many of them smarter than you. Surely it is sheer arrogance to think you’ve magically become wiser than the Party – the Mother who birthed you, provided for all your needs, and taught you everything you know. Honestly, what is the chance of that? We should expect that some things she tells us do no make sense to us. Thus, that the Party asserts apparent contradictions is evidence that she speaks only truth.

Poor Winston – he thinks he’s sane. But, that’s how a lot of insane people think of themselves.

Winston might try to argue that he really loves the Party, and would like to reform it for the better. Insanely, he doesn’t realize that the Party is just as it should (now) be. Big Brother has seen to it, and we all trust him – at least, those of us who are sane. If he wants to change the Party, he will, and it will be the right change at the right time. Winston is a citizen, and the place of a citizen is to serve and obey the Party, which requires trusting her judgements, which are of course His judgements as well. Winston keeps forgetting that. Thank Big Brother that we have O’Briens to gently remind us.

Below the fold, a bit more therapy:

Here’s the whole BBC production, starring a young Peter Cushing. It’s good.

Just recently, out of morbid curiosity, since it’s available free online, I watched all three hours of it.

Yes, the stupid, it BURNS! Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Hanks mumbles and lurches his way through the movie, like an unkempt Dennis Miller on downers. He was much better in… just about anything else he’s done.

The movie alternates between competent chase scenes, talky sleep-inducing scenes, and scenery chewing by evil, murderous, self-hating, conniving, comic book Catholic villains.

It’s directed by Opie, no less. And he seemed like such a nice kid!

At the end of the movie, the two main characters are reflecting on Jesus, in light of the cockamamie yarn they’ve just lived through. Saith, Hanks’s character:

The only thing that matters is what you believe. History shows us Jesus was an extraordinary man, a human inspiration. That’s it. That’s all the evidence has ever proved.

Yes, the author Dan Brown knows how to please – telling his audience exactly what they want to hear, and what is convenient to believe. Believe whatever you please. And of course Jesus was just a competent, admirable human. No grounds whatever for all that “Son of God” business. You’re right to ignore all that.

Why does it have to be human or divine? Maybe human is divine. …

Yes, folks, the wit and wisdom of Dan Brown.

In sum, the movie is anti-Catholic, and anti-Christian dreck. Moreover, Brown knows exactly what he’s doing – peddling foolish conspiracy theories to that segment of the public which is ignorant of Christian history, and which for various reasons would like to believe that the Evil Roman Catholic Church has been Hiding It All up till now. I’m well familiar with this segment of the public, as I teach philosophy of religion and religious studies at a state university.  Brown is happy to take their money and make them stupider, while making them feel they’ve been let in on wondrous secrets. I remember seeing an interview with him some years ago, and he very, very carefully walked the line of not quite claiming his novel to be historically accurate, while not denying it either.

If all of this isn’t depressing enough, there is the fact that stupid begets stupider.

I wouldn’t bother posting on this mediocre movie without providing some links to scholars eviscerating its absurd claims.

• Darrell Bock: no, there’s no reason at all to think Jesus was married. No, Brown’s ideas about how the four gospels are chosen is just wrong, and no, there was no close vote on Jesus’ divinity at Nicea in 325, nor was that the first time his “divinity” was brought up.
• Carl Trueman on why people enjoy conspiracy theories.
• Eminent Christian historian N.T. Wright, on what it all means.

Also, a famous demon weighs in. More reputably, some Catholic apologists weigh in. And some Protestant ones.

Finally, for those who prefer their refutations in video form:

Dear new Christians – beware. Patton is sincere, but misinformed. He thinks the Bible obviously teaches what he’s asserting, and reasons that any prior Bible-loving Christians must’ve thought likewise.

But having studied a vast amount of historical writings by Christians, I can assure you that this is demonstrably not so, even if we stick to “mainstream” Christians (so ignoring, e.g. “Arians”, Marcionites, etc.) I take no pleasure in pointing this out, and I wish it were as simple as Patton says. But facts are facts.

I’ve discussed his sort of take on the Trinty before. It is not, as Patton says in a comment, “what the Bible teaches and Christians for 2000 years have believed.” It is what (some? many?) theologians at Dallas Theological Seminary think about the Trinity. How widespread these views are, I’m not sure. But the many evangelical and other theologians riding the “social trinitarian” bandwagon would not agree with what Patton says.

Regarding what Patton holds forth as “the best we can do”, take care lest you fall into inconsistency.

You should know that some of the most brilliant Christian thinkers in the last 100 years have held many different views on just how “the” doctrine should be understood. Unfortunately, these theories are, for the most part, not consistent with one another.

Patton asserts that

The doctrine of the Trinity has been held by all orthodox Christians throughout all of church history

This is either trivial or false.

If by “orthodox” we mean, ones accepting the “ecumenical creeds”, and “the doctrine” here is what those creeds say, then it is true by definition, and also trivial.

But whatever “the doctrine” is thought to be, if  “orthodox” here means all mainstream Christians (proto-orthodox/catholic, Catholic, Eastern Orthodox, Protestant, anabaptist, pentecostal), then it is false. He’d like to think that only spoil-your-Saturday-morning-by-knocking-on-your-door cults have opted out, but this is not so. Some mainstream Christians have basically ignored creedal Trinity claims. Others deny them, on the grounds that the Bible doesn’t really teach them. Others never heard of them, and literally never thought about them. Other emphasize them, but interpret them in various ways.

But don’t take my word for it! I’m just some random guy you found on deh internets, right?

Pick up any catholic (proto-orthodox, mainstream Christian) theologian from c. 150-200 CE. You could start with Justin Martyr. You can read all we have from him in maybe a week. Is he selling what Patton is selling? Or take Irenaeus, Athanagoras, Origin, Tertullian. (Hint: review what Patton says about “subordinationism”.)

Too hard? No problem. Read this guy; he shows in great detail what these folk were up to, and why it is a mistake to count them as trinitarians. It’s a good read.

Don’t trust him, because he’s a unitarian?

Fine. Then, read Roger Olson, a respected and fairly mainstream evangelical theologian, on Justin Martyr, et. al. Do they teach thee co-equal divine persons within one God? You be the judge. Don’t just trust any cool cat you come across.

About divine attributes: reading Patton’s chapter, you’d never guess that many generations of theologians firmly believed a doctrine of divine simplicity, according to which (roughly) God is utterly simple (without parts or components), doesn’t have any non-essential attributes, and it’s a mistake to think that God has multiple intrinsic attributes at all. (Yes – these are dark sayings, and many Christian philosophers, including me, deny them. But others defend them.)

Actually, Patton’s whole list of “non-essential” attributes is idiosyncratic. Does he hold it possible for God to be non-gracious, non-loving, not a Trinity? Normally in philosophy nowadays, a non-essential attribute is one which a thing could possibly exist without. In ancient times, the idea was more that a non-essential attribute wasn’t a defining one (though some were such that you couldn’t be without them). But in ancient and medieval times, as I said, God was thought to be utterly simple (partless and without any internal multiplicity). Yes, it’s a mystery how anyone thought this was compatible with thinking of God as tri-personal.

If you’re a new Christian – great! You should love God with all you’ve got, and follow Christ in all things. There’s no other way to live. About the Trinity, I don’t have any simple answers for you. Patton is certainly right in holding that we must all follow as best we can, knowing that there’s a lot we don’t know, and that there are countless truths about God which we’ll never know. Part of loving God is devoting your mental energies long term to carefully thinking through these things when you can, as best you can. Keep going!

“We’re not saying that God is exactly one A and exactly three A’s. That would be a contradiction. We’re saying that God is one A and three B’s. Where’s the contradiction?”

On the face of it, this is a good and reasonable reply to the charge that the doctrine of the Trinity includes or implies a contradiction (and so is false). In general, we must be careful with facile charges of contradiction; often, such claims are easily rebutted.

But it is only an opening move, and it is a shallow one, as I’ll explain. In fact, it leaves you as exposed as our friend with the raised leg here.

Suppose you say that right now there are ten on the field, and also exactly two on the field. By this, you mean ten players and two teams. This is consistent.

How about ten bugs and two players. No problemo.

Now suppose you say that there are now ten players on the field and exactly two human beings? That is not consistent, for each player just is a certain human being.

Thus, the sort of logical point I made at the outset of this post works sometimes, but sometimes it fails. It all depends on what the terms are, and how they are related.

But does this work or not, in the case of the Trinity?

With creedal Trinity claims, as often understood, A = divine being, and B = divine person/self. So we’d be saying that God is one divine being who is (or maybe, in some sense contains) three divine persons.

Now any self just is a certain being; the concept of a self just is the concept of a certain sort of being. So if there are exactly three persons, each will be a certain being, and they can’t be the same being, for we’ve said there are three selves (hence, three beings). Thus, if there are three divine persons/selves, this seems to imply that there are three divine beings. But the creedal doctrine is supposed to include monotheism – that there is exactly one divine being.

D’oh! Not consistent.

Thus, it is not clear that this defense works; it seems to sweep the dirt under the carpet, leaving a large lump showing.

But maybe something’s gone wrong. Let’s try again. Maybe we used the wrong terms.

Here’s another way, much tried: A = divine being, B = personal mode of a being / way of living.

So the doctrine would be: God is one divine being which has exactly three personal modes of being / ways of living.

Consistency achieved. But Houston, we have a problem! Jesus Christ is, in the catholic tradition, identical to the second person of the Trinity. Here, a “person” of the Trinity is understood to be a way or mode in which the one God lives. But wait - Jesus is a self, a living, knowing, agent – a being with intelligence and will. And it appears that such a thing isn’t and can’t be a mode of some being – a way some being lives; no, a self is a being in its own right. Leaving aside that metaphysical point, we seem to have made a loving, interpersonal relationship between Father and Son impossible, replacing it with one self (God) in a certain mode (Father) interacting with himself in a different mode (Son). Arguably, this flies in the face of the New Testament. In short, we’ve lept into a boiling pot of modalism. Bad move!

Here’s another try: A = divine being, B = something, I know not what

So the doctrine would be: God is one divine being in which there are exactly there something-we-know-not-whats.

And yet one of those something-or-others, you hold, is the Lord Jesus Christ. And you think he’s a great and glorious self, and so not some sort of inconceivable thing. Sorry: not consistent.

Which way to go? Unclear. There have been suggested other ways out, but in these two popular second moves I’ve just outlined, one runs straight into a contradiction – not in the resulting Trinity theory itself, but rather, between that theory and something else any Christian is, as such, committed to.

There may well be laziness on the part of the objector here; he hopes for a quick knock-out blow against the Trinity, a proof (compelling, knock-down argument) that it’s self-contradictory. Good luck finding one of those.

Maybe the best I can say for this opening move is that it’s a lazy reply which may fit a lazy objection. I call the reply lazy because it leaves unclear just what the doctrine is. It merely makes a point about the creed using different terms. Moreover, it merrily ignores some other inconsistencies which lie right around the corner, as soon as one tries to clearly say what the doctrine is supposed to be.

One way a doctrine can be patently false is to be formally inconsistent – in terms of propositional logic, asserting P and not-P.

But another way a doctrine can be patently false is for it to include claims P and Q, while it is obviously true that: if P then not-Q. Here, there’s no formal contradiction between the component claims (P, Q), for neither is the negation of the other (e.g. P, not-P). Yet, if it is true that if P then not-Q, the doctrine (P, Q) implies a falsehood, and so includes a falsehood, for it can’t be that both P and Q are true.

Any Trinity doctrine worth is salt ought to be such that its component claims can be understood and examined to see if they’re all consistent each other, and with other things we all know. If so, then the doctrine would appear to be consistent, and so, may appear true, if supported by our sources. But if the claims contradict one another, or if by adding some self-evident truth to the mix we can logically derive a contradiction, then the doctrine would be patently false, whether self-contradictory, or inconsistent with something else which is evidently true.

Who is willing to pony up such a Trinity theory? In my experience: Many a Christian philosopher. Fewer theologians. Even fewer apologists. For the non-lazy, there’s a lot to consider.

The Trinity is a biblical doctrine, but let’s admit it: There’s something annoying about how hard it is to put your finger on a verse that states the whole doctrine.

The Bible presents the elements of the doctrine in numerous passages, of course: that there is only one God; that the Father is God; that the Son is God; and that the Spirit is God. We can also tell easily enough that the Father, Son and Spirit are really distinct from one another, and are not just three names for one person. If you hold all those clear teachings of Scripture in your mind at one time and think through them together, the doctrine of the Trinity is inevitable. Trinitarianism is a biblical doctrine and all the ingredients are given to us there: Just add thought and you have the classic doctrine. (emphases added)

Hmmm…. I would have thought that the elements of “the” doctrine included that the three are same substance or essence (homoousios). And that the there are co-equal, and co-eternal, uncreated, though the Father timelessly generates the Son, and the Spirit proceeds from him (or if you’re Western/Latin – from both Father and Son). Maybe something about their having one “divine nature” as well.

It isn’t that Sanders is unaware of any of this; he’s aware of all of it. It’s just, he’s writing in a popular, devotional vein, and so he’s sticking to what, in his view, the Bible straight up teaches, and to what is edifying to the average pew-dweller, or at least, to the average Biola alumnus. This is kind of standard, for conservative theologians to not mention the confusing stuff when dealing with non-scholars.

But it strikes me that his approach is typical of American evangelicalism generally. Most evangelicals don’t really care (or really, know) about creedal or theologically precise Trinity doctrines. (Hence, efforts like this.) They think of “the” Trinity doctrine as just the all-important claim of “the divinity of Christ“, plus a bit more (i.e. same claim, whatever it is, for the Holy Spirit). It’s really the “divinity of Christ” / aka the claim that “Jesus is God” which is the focus in evangelical spirituality, in its preaching, in its pop theology. (Notice, that’s not really a historical, creedal Incarnation doctrine. Yes, for evangelicals he’s both God and a man, but they’re not too hip on discoursing on the two natures or the hypostatic union, and so on.)

Back to the Trinity, all Sanders adds really, to this standard way of thinking is that this doctrine is not supposed to be some sort of modalism (e.g. one divine person who lives or appears in three different ways).  This is an important caveat, for I think that many  understand by “Jesus is God” that Jesus and God are one and the same, i.e. numerically one. And Jesus is a person, and God is a person (that is, a self), so they must be the same person (i.e. Jesus is God himself). Of course, when you say that “the” doctrine doesn’t mean that, it’s pretty unclear what it means. Like those Dallas Theological Seminary guys, Sanders’s approach leaves you scratching your head.

There are, of course, exceptions to this, among evangelical theologians and philosophers. But here at least, Sanders is adopting the common approach. He’s assuming, correctly, that what he says above is compatible with what various evangelical intellectuals think, e.g. “social” trinitarians. Problem is, thanks to that wonderfully ambiguous word “is”,  it’s compatible with just about any Christian theology.

In Sanders’s view, the virtue of this doctrine not being in one verse is that it is instead “a massive, comprehensive, full-Bible doctrine that serves to expand our minds as readers of Scripture.”

Sweet! How does that work?

After quoting a few passages in which the three are mentioned, Sanders says that “entire books of the Bible are structured by the same Trinitarian logic“. No, he’s not really talking about logic here.  His idea is that you can see a pattern of  the Three, in some sense working together; you see a co-operation of three agents.

In Galatians, for example, Paul proves his gospel of faith against salvation by works in a three-part argument: The Galatians received the Spirit by faith, God promised Abraham that he would justify the Gentiles by faith, and Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law. The great arc of Romans runs from the Father’s judgment through the Son’s propitiation to the Spirit’s deliverance.

This prepares is for

…the biggest Christian thought of all: The whole Bible is one complete book that reveals the Trinity. That fact is what the ancient church fathers meant when they summarized the Christian faith in the Apostles’ Creed: “I believe in God the Father … and in his only Son, our Lord Jesus Christ … and in the Holy Spirit.” (emphases added)

But any unitarian can fully endorse the Apostle’s Creed. And in the 2nd c., when various shorter forms of what eventually was called “The Apostles Creed” were floating around, most catholic Christians were just not trinitarians at all. Many, at least of the catholic intellectuals, were Logos theologians, holding that some time before creation, God externalized his Word, which is to say that he created a helper, an agent alongside himself, the pre-existent Son. The status of the Holy Spirit was at this point unclear.

Or take the 17th c. English unitarian John Bidle. (aka Biddle)  He denied any Trinity doctrine; for him, as for the Logos theologians, the one God just is the Father. A long time ago, he created the Son and Spirit. Would he have any problem with Sander’s “Trinitarian logic”? No – he too sees a pattern of three cooperating agents in all those texts.

I say all this not really to criticize Sanders – I recognize he’s writing a pop piece here – but rather the mainstream American evangelical tradition in which he’s swimming. In that lake, you’d never get the idea that Trinity doctrines were controversial (till Mormons and JWs came around), are that there have always been dueling, incompatible forms of them, and that anything that could be characterized as a trinitarian theology was pretty controversial among Christians from roughly 150-400, and from about 1520-1880. No (assumes many an evangelical) this must just be obviously right there in the Bible, since our views are all based purely on the Bible, and we believe in the Trinity.

Sigh.

There’s one thing I would criticize Sanders for. It is merely spin to claim that it’s a good thing that the doctrine isn’t clearly taught in any one place in the Bible. Even if it is correct that what Sanders calls “the” doctrine is the best reading of the Bible, all things considered, it still would be more clearly a teaching thereof, and so less disputed and less confusing,  if it were expressed, as it were, in one breath.

But, it is not. So, argue we must – about the meaning of the various texts, and about which Trinity theory, if any, makes the best sense of them? Which, if any, as Sanders says, is “the key to the entire book.”

Update: here’s a positive review of Sanders’s recent book. I haven’t had a chance to read it, but evidently he argues that in some sense evangelicals are “most thoroughly Trinitarian Christians in the history of the church”.

I posted on this very phenomenon back in 2008.

I agree with all the examples Paul gives of philosophers / analytic theologians whose work should not be ignored by any serious investigator – not because they’re my peeps – but because their work is disciplined, insightful, well motivated, clearly argued. In short, it has things you want if you’re serious about getting to the truth of the matter.

Why do systematic theologians do this?

Maybe there’s no deep answer. Maybe: (1) they’re not familiar with this large genre, (2) philosophy is hard, (3) they can ignore it – a portion of the intended audience won’t notice. They won’t get any letters protesting the ignoring of Plantinga, Craig, van Inwagen, or Leftow.

To those of us who are philosophically literate, in most cases philosophy-ignoring work just isn’t going to answer our questions. It’s not a matter of style, taste, or preference – but of substance. This is hard to convey to people who aren’t so trained. Here’s an analogy. Imagine you’re a public policy wonk – you have highly developed views on things like zoning laws, taxation, trade, and such. You want to know who to vote for, so you go to a speech by a politician, who breaks out his well-worn lines about Freedom, the American Way, Baseball, and Apple Pie. Or maybe he gets more specific – he gives you his Republican riffs about smaller government, lower taxes, and Reaganesque optimism. This is closer, but you really wanted to know whether he thought the payoff of a certain environmental protection ordinance was worth the economic costs of implementation – and you leave the speech disappointed. You assume that surely he must address this pressing issue, so you buy his book, search his website, scour his public statements. No, nothing there. Move along.

Now settle down – no, I’m not comparing theologians to politicians. I’m comparing the imaginary wonk’s experience to my disappointment after sitting down with some expensive new book by a theologian to see what he says about, say, the Trinity.

As more people learn to think about theology in ways disciplined by analytic philosophy, theology which ignores it will be less relevant. If you’re going into theology, my advice is to get a BA and/or an MA in philosophy in a solid, analytic or mostly analytic department which employs at least one specialist in philosophy of religion, and at least one specialist in the history of philosophy and at least one in contemporary metaphysics. Get some good advice on departments, or if you can’t do that – read their stuff, and see if it is serious, helpful, and comprehensible (vs. trivial, obscure, jargon-ridden. Unless you do this at a religious school, the department will be 50-80% atheists and agnostics, but don’t worry, you’ll probably learn a lot from them. A portion, maybe 50% of such will actually be very interested in arguments about God, evil, divine providence, human nature, free will – things you care about. Such a degree will teach you to navigate the vast and challenging literature of philosophy, and will enable to recognize well crafted arguments. It will give you some skills it would be fairly hard to get by just reading some books on the side.

I do buy and profit from theological books which ignore analytic theology. But on many topics, like the Trinity and Incarnation, time, divine providence, certain divine attributes, free will, I go in knowing that they’ll be too unclear to be helpful – in delineating their preferred theory, in taking on the best objections to it, and in arguing for their preferred theory. Their statements will suggest more than one incompatible precise theory – some theory fairly well worked out, usually,  by someone trained in philosophy (though their terminal degree may be in another field).

Enough of that – time to lighten up with another post by Paul.  PS – Yes, in a recent podcast, Craig recounted rebutting Muslims’ objections to the coherence of the Incarnation by citing Avatar. But that’s another post for another time. And it would require my finding one heck of a weird picture.

A sample:

Not only is philosophy shunned as speculative and troublesome, many Reformed… disparage some of the tools those in this discipline specialize in utilizing. Logic and analytical rigor are shunned and not trusted. …Theologians and philosophers each do their own thing, neither mining the work of the other. Theologians find the philosophers speculative and often unorthodox. Philosophers find the theologians unclear, dogmatic (in a negative sense), and holding to beliefs based on faulty reasoning and supported by poor argumentation. This state of affairs is odd considering how many theologians of the past made use of continental philosophy.

Past and present, I would say. Check out the whole post. It’s mildly depressing, but to be expected – humans, and academics, are territorial creatures. If only Bugs could mediate this feud – we could all “bow to the gent across the hall”.

What if

By “posts”, of course, we mean “posts or comments on posts”.

Read it, live it. Patton is very insightful there.

I speak as one sinner to others.

There’s something about human nature… if we’re convinced that we’re right about some important subject-matter, we start to think we’re entitled to pour scorn and contempt on those without this supposed insight. (This happens especially in matters of politics and religion.) But, we are not so entitled. The fact remains that God loves those people, and expects us to. And we would not like to be treated that way.

What way? Just take notice when others start to get heated up over your comments. It could be that you’ve touched a nerve, i.e. raised a devastating criticism. It could be that they’re spoiled, immature, and over-sensitive. Or, it could be that you’re rude. Judge yourself, lest you be called to account for your words. Usually, we know and take pleasure in online bomb-throwing/groin-kicking/eye-poking. Other times, we’re just operating with less stringent standards, like we’d used with friends via email, or face to face. But whether the damage is intentional or not, it’s damage, and the behavior is thus too rough.

Perhaps the clearest picture of this distinction and union [of the Trinity] is Jesus’ baptism, where the Son is anointed for his public ministry by the Spirit, descending as a dove, with the Father declaring from heaven, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased” (Matt. 3:13-17) All three persons of the Trinity are present, and each one is doing something different. (p. 2514a, emphases added)

This is an example of the sheer laziness and sloppy reasoning that so mars contemporary theology. Think about it - how exactly is the unity of the Trinity displayed here – either their oneness of an individual essence (godhead, divine nature) or the sharing of a universal property of deity? Where exactly do we see portrayed here the absolute equality of the three, or the “full divinity” of the Son and Spirit.

Would anything in this episode cause trouble for, say, an “Arian”? Nope. Tritheists? No – they should be OK with coordinated actions by the deities. Consider those unitarians who think the Holy Spirit is a force or divine action, not a person in his own right. They won’t have any problem with this “descending as a dove” – which of course needn’t mean that a literal dove (or something that looks just like a dove) dropped from the sky. Finally, consider modalists, who think that each person of the Trinity is really a personality of the one divine person, or a way that person acts. They’ll just say that this omnipotent, divine person can easily pull off these three actions simultaneously: getting baptized as a man, speaking from heaven, and coming down from heaven to empower the man.

The one sort of Christian theology that would trip on this, would be a strictly serial modalism – which holds that God acts, in sequence, as Father, Son, and Spirit, but only one at a time. But who holds this? (Apparently, not even these guys – see #56.)

In sum, this episode, spiritually inspiring and important to christology though it is, is nearly worthless when it comes to arguing for or just finding evidence for any particular understanding of the Trinity. Theologians should be more nervous about just repeating these tropes. A narrative which is compatible with almost any view of the Trinity neither implies, asserts, assumes, nor even illustrates “the” catholic/orthodox/historical mainstream view of the Trinity.

Not having seen the book, I can’t be sure what is going on here. Here are some options:

1. The writer is terribly uninformed.
2. The writer is feigning ignorance in a misguided attempt to instill delight and wonder into science.
3. The writers is feigning ignorance in an attempt to multiply “mysteries”. If there are a lot of “mysteries” (realities we don’t understand) in nature, then any theological mysteries will be unproblematic. Call this “innocence by association” apologetics.
4. The writer is ham-handedly trying to make a (controversial) Kantian point about science – that it only reveals how things appear and not how they really are.

I’d like to believe that 1 is unlikely. It could be that all of 2-4 are going on here. Either way, this is clearly educational malpractice, especially the “All anyone knows is that…” part.

Anyone out there have the actual book?

But inquiring minds want to know: what did they believe, what statement or statements of faith did they sign, and are the beliefs therein necessary and sufficient for being a real Christian? This time, we’re digging a little deeper.

Their website saith,

World Vision U.S. hires only those who agree and accept to its Statement of Faith and/or the Apostles’ Creed. (source)

Interesting! Note the “and/or” – employees must affirm either one or both. As we’ve noted before here at trinities, nothing in the so-called Apostles’ Creed requires belief in either the “full deity” of Christ (whatever that may mean) or any sort of trinitarian theory. Go ahead – click their link above and read it.

• Did the three fired employees disavow the Apostles’ Creed?
• Or did they affirm it?
• Suppose they accepted it with no reservations… doesn’t that mean they could not be fired? If not, why not?
• Or did they accept it with reservations?

Here’s the relevant portion of World Vision’s statement of faith.

We believe that there is one God, eternally existent in three persons: Father, Son, and the Holy Spirit.

We believe in the deity of our Lord Jesus Christ, in His virgin birth, in His sinless life, in His miracles, in His vicarious and atoning death through His shed blood, in His bodily resurrection, in His ascension to the right hand of the Father, and in His personal return in power and glory. (emphases added, source)

I’m afraid this is typical American evangelical theological mush, featuring the weasel-words “in” (first sentence) and “deity” (second item).

The “in” phrase is current shorthand for some Trinity theory or other, but honestly, a resourceful unitarian could accept both of the above statements.

Our imaginary unitarian employee of World Vision could defend herself as follows:

Keep in mind that “person” means something like a mask, role, or personality – we’re not necessarily talking about the modern concept of a self. So, I believe in one God, the Father, who express himself in three persons. First, his own persona, as Father to Jesus and to all believers. Second, through the man Jesus, his special Son and servant. Third, through the guise of his own active power, which can seem like a third party. Do I believe in the deity of Jesus? Certainly. He’s the Son of God. He was sent by God, and empowered by God’s spirit. In all these senses, he was a divine man. And yet, he was a man.

Further, “one God, eternally existent in three persons” is probably most naturally understood as modalism – one self, acting or living in three different ways, in three different personalities. And a resourceful social trinitarian like Richard Swinburne could no doubt accept the formulas as well. The words in their doctrinal statement, then, fail to clearly express any precise views about God and Jesus. It seems to me that a lot of evangelical talk of the “deity of Christ” (or him “being God” or “being fully God” or “100% God” etc.) functions primarily as a sort of shibboleth, and that’s what is going on here. Their statement also owes something to a distinctively American anti-creedal tradition, which goes back to the founding of our country – but that’s a story for another time. The result is a distinctive sort of Christian tradition zealous to police itself for correct beliefs, but without interest in making precise distinctions.

Thanks to Google, a few more tidbits on our story, from a sort of newsletter by an interested (but uninvolved) lawyer:

Sylvia Spencer, Vicki Hulse and Ted Youngberg (the “Employees”) were all employed by World Vision. Like every employee, they attended daily devotions and weekly chapels held during the workday. However, at some point, the Employees stopped their attendance. World Vision interviewed each Employee as to why they stopped their daily devotions. Their responses were not recorded by the court, but World Vision concluded that each employee had they denied the deity of Jesus Christ. Even though the Employees denied this conclusion, World Vision nevertheless terminated their employment. The Employees sued World Vision for firing them, claiming that their terminations were based upon their religious beliefs. (source, emphases added)

This suggests that the three opted out of some required activities – something unclear in the CT story, which seems to add that they’d been given permission for some alternative. But more importantly - the three who were fired denied the denial? Really? (Imagined conversation: “Ya’ll are denying the deity of Christ!” “No we aren’t!”) What is going on here?

• Are they trinitarians who hold that Father and Son are numerically distinct, but claim that the Son is divine? e.g. Are they social trinitarians?
• Are they unitarians? Subordinationists? Jehovah’s Witnesses?
• Do they subscribe to kenosis theory?
• Are they dastardly liars, secret admirers of the Jesus Seminar, masquerading as evangelical Christians?
• Or do they neither affirm nor deny the vague thesis?
• Are the employees interpreting the statement of faith one way, and the management another?
• Or is the dispute about interpretations of the Apostles’ Creed, with World Vision taking the hopeless position that it clearly requires beliefs that Jesus is “fully God” and that he’s a member of the Trinity?

Slap me and call me “Curious George”, but I’d like to know. If this denial-denial part of the story is true, this is a big complicating factor which CT never should have left out of its story.

For the record: I support that right.

But the piece is occasioned by a current lawsuit against evangelical charity World Vision brought by three recently fired employees.

It strikes me that there are human and theological angles to this story which have yet to be told.

Here are the relevant bits from Ross’s story in CT:

Both [Sylvia Spencer and Vicki Hulse] signed statements affirming their Christian faith and devoted a decade to World Vision… But in November 2006, they and colleague Ted Youngerberg were fired. Their offense, as determined by a corporate investigation: The three did not believe that Jesus Christ is fully God and a member of the Trinity. (Bobby Ross Jr., “Faith-Based Fracas”, Christianity Today, June 2010, 17-21, p. 17, emphases added)

No doubt the reporter here was hindered by the fact that a lawsuit is underway. But the story has many obvious, yawning gaps:

• Did Youngerberg also sign a statement?
• What was this statement?
• When exactly were they signed?
• What is it to be “fully God”?
• What sort of trinitarian belief is required?
• They were fired because of what they (allegedly) did not believe. But what did they believe, roughly? That Jesus is 81% God?

(click image for source)

Are the plaintiffs Christians?

“They are deeply religious Christians,” said Judith Lonnquist, a Seattle attorney who filed a federal discrimination lawsuit on their behalf. “They just don’t have the same beliefs that World Vision espouses.” (p. 17, emphasis added)

It is clear that World Vision thinks they are not. They do hire non-Christians, but only for jobs for which there’s no available Christian, and which are mission-critical. (pp. 18-19)

As to the their attorney quoted above, the reporter subtly discredits her by quoting a laughable piece of exegesis from her.

Lonnquist told CT, “If Jesus walked the earth today, I think he’d be appalled. To me, ‘there are many rooms in my Father’s house’ means there is room for everyone, whether you’re Jewish and you believe in Yahweh, or you’re a Muslim and you believe in Allah, or a Native American spiritualist and you believe in a great Buffalo Woman.” (p. 21, emphases added)

Note to Lonnquist – this is not how to persuade an evangelical magazine or its readers!

World Vision’s chief attorney notes that their “values statement” says in part,

We are Christian. We acknowledge one God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

That is vaguely trinitarian. But what is the relevance of a “values statement” to this case? Is that something all employees must at all times unreservedly affirm?

Ross, further quoting this lawyer,

“The employees were discharged because they no longer met an essential job prerequisite: that they genuinely affirm their belief in a statement of orthodox Christian faith as understood by the World Vision board.” (p. 17, emphasis added)

This is ambiguous (will any statement count as orthodox, so long as the board approves? I assume not.) But in any case, what statement or statements are sufficient?

The reporter is mainly interested in the legal angle, so we never find out.

Further down, some more intriguing info:

The plaintiffs – one served as an administrative assistant, one worked in telecommunications, and one coordinated furniture needs – say their central duties were nonreligious in nature. Nonetheless, they said, they always supported the organization’s mission and participated in Bible studies and devotionals on the job.

Hulse and Spencer even started a small-group Bible study during World Vision’s weekly employee chapel session – with a supervisor’s permission and no objection from the ministry. But when leadership learned of their beliefs about the divinity of Christ more than two years after the alternative Bible studies began, the three were investigated and fired, the former employees said. (pp. 19-21, emphases added)

More questions:

• Was this a study specifically for non-trinitarians? (Why and how “alternative”?)
• How did leadership learn of their beliefs?
• Where they affiliated with some unitarian group?
• Were these longstanding beliefs, or had their views on Christ and God recently changed? If so, why?

Ross’s story was typical for the American evangelical press - long on legal and social considerations, short on theology – painting it only in the crudest brush-strokes.

And in this case, short on human interest as well.

But, Ross did a fine job with the legal and social considerations (skipped in my excerpts above). I believe the story will eventually be posted online.

Next time: digging just a little deeper.

From reason: The Trinity doctrine, argues Burke, is inconsistent with itself. The “Athanasian” creed presents us with three, each of whom is a Lord, and yet insists that there is only one Lord. As some philosophers have pointed out, it is self-evident that if every F is a G, then there can’t be fewer Gs than Fs. So if every divine person is a god, then there can’t be fewer gods than divine persons. (Burke leaves out this: Why say that this creed presents us with three? Because each one differs from the others, having at least one feature the others lack.)

Since the Trinitarian Jesus is believed to be God, everything in Scripture which applies to God must necessarily apply to him.

Right. If the “two” are really one and the same, whatever is true of one must be true of “the other”. That is, nothing can differ from itself at any given time. Bowman does seem to identify Jesus and God, even while he thinks some things are true of one but not of the other. Point, Burke.

But note that many trinitarians to not identify Jesus and God. Almost no evangelical philosophers do, for instance, and arguably none to almost none of the ancient catholics do. Sharing a nature with isn’t the same as being numerically the same as, nor does the first obviously imply the second (unless the “nature” is a haecceity).

Unfortunately, this section features repeated distractions concerning words. Burke complains that “Trinitarianism requires unique definitions of words.” So what. Theories often require us to coin new definitions. Similarly, Burke demands evidence from the Bible that the word “person” should be used as trinitarians  use it. But the Bible doesn’t have rules about word definitions – at least not this one! Burke is trying to press the point that trinitarianism makes arbitrary and maybe inconsistent claims, and ones which ill fit the Bible, but these are not the ways to press points like that.

A more substantial point:

[Bowman] accepts the Trinity as “three persons”, when it suits him, but at other times he wants to count the three persons as one (ie. one Yahweh, or one Lord). He does this by effectively treating the three separate persons as a single unipersonal being, which is logically inconsistent…

I agree – it seems to me that like the rest of us, Bowman normally thinks of God as a magnificent self. But he doesn’t want four divine persons, so he sometimes thinks of God as… well, not a self, but some sort of thing which in some sense has three divine selves within it. But, Bowman finally addresses this in a comment in this last round… stay tuned.

From scripture: Mostly, Burke gives a good recap of his overall scriptural case. At one point, I think he goes too far:

Jesus and his apostles were adamant that everything people needed to know about him could be sourced directly from the OT. There was no “progressive revelation” about the Messiah; there was no new doctrine concerning his nature and identity; there was no change from OT to NT. (emphasis added)

I don’t think this is true. An important counterexample is Christ’s second coming, or the distinction between the first and second comings. I think it is a mistake to be hostile to any doctrine of progressive revelation. Why can’t something which is obscure later be made clear? e.g. what happens after death, how many times the messiah will come, how God will bring in people from all nations to his family. I think Burke rejects progressive revelation because he thinks it requires the later revelation to contradict the earlier. But the later might instead be correcting not what the earlier says or implies, but rather mistaken conclusions people are liable to draw from what it says and implies. e.g. that when one is all the way dead, one has ceased to exist

He effectively presses his point about Acts, which arguably conspicuously lacks any teaching of the “fully divinity” of Jesus or of any tripersonal God.

But where is the uproar [in Acts] against the notion of a Messiah who is also a God-man? Where is the backlash against a triune God? There is no such uproar; there is no such backlash; there is no outcry against Trinitarian concepts. On the Trinity and the deity of Christ, the preaching record and the Jewish response are both silent. In light of the Jews’ response to the Gospel message, this is inexplicable unless proto-Trinitarian doctrines were not preached at all. And if they were not preached, why weren’t they preached?

Irritatingly, this section has some scattershot charges – that trinitarians commit a lot of fallacies, that their readings of the Bible are convoluted, that their readings are marred by their love for their theory, which they always presuppose. This is just a fancy way of saying “look how ridiculous they are” – and it is about as effective as that charge. Best to stay on the subject at hand – the substance of Bowman’s case, not the alleged shortcomings of trinitarians in general.

In reiterating his case, I a few times noticed that he overstates it. Thus,

We saw that throughout the OT, God’s Holy Spirit is described as something that belongs to Him, like a property or a power. We saw that the NT follows this model exactly, without deviating in any way from OT teaching. There is no new revelation about the identity of the Holy Spirit.

This point can be argued, but it is too much to say that the “NT follows this model [of the Holy Spirit as an attribute] exactly”.

Then Peter said, “Ananias, how is it that Satan has so filled your heart that you have lied to the Holy Spirit and have kept for yourself some of the money you received for the land? Didn’t it belong to you before it was sold? And after it was sold, wasn’t the money at your disposal? What made you think of doing such a thing? You have not lied to men but to God.” (Acts 5:3-4, NIV, emphases added)

As I explained before, this usage of “the Holy Spirit” (as a singular referring term, referring to the Father) needn’t bother a unitarian. Overstating the case makes it easy for one’s opponent to reject it out of hand.

Moving on, Burke asks some pertinent questions:

Why did God allow His chosen people to believe He is only one divine person instead of three, right up until the Christian era? Why did He conceal His triune identity? What was the rationale behind this divine deception? When and where was the new revelation first made clear? Rob claims it is “implicit”, but why only “implicit”? All the other key apostolic doctrines are explicitly preached. How can divinely inspired church leaders fail to provide an explicit teaching of the triune God if that is what they genuinely believe? Jesus told his disciples that the Holy Spirit would lead them into all truth (John 16:13); why didn’t it lead them to Trinitarianism?

I believe that Bowman stonewalls on all these through the whole debate. (Have I missed any answers?) I assume his view is just that we can’t understand God’s ways. But if so, better he should say and defend that answer. He loses points by refusing to answer. The audience he’s used to may not think much of them, but this is a more mixed audience.

On to history: Burke argues that the earliest material is “biblical unitarian”, while much (most) 1st century catholic theologians are subordinationist unitarians. He holds that:

Historically, doctrine always develops from the minimal to the complex, evolving as it is exposed to new influences and adapting in response to perceived heresies. Thus, the simplest doctrinal statements are more likely to be the earliest and most authentic. It is therefore significant that the earliest Christian creedal statements are Unitarian.

Is trinitarian theology, or subordinationist unitarianism more complex than humanitarian unitarianism? Maybe (it may depend on which Trinity theory we have in mind – some professed trinitarians simply hold that there’s one god with three ways of living, and that at least as simple as biblical unitarianism, isn’t it?). Are the early statements unitarian? One might not want to say they are explicitly so – as they are not written in reaction to any Trinity theory – but rather that they are compatible with, and a good fit with unitarianism, as they seem to assume that God and the Father are numerically the same. But if Bowman is right, we would not expect them to be this way.

In his summation, Burke urges us to lay aside the docetic thinking which dogs trinitarianism and embrace a Jesus who really shared our lot. Further,

…Christianity began as a Jewish religion. …Biblical Unitarianism calls for a return to those Jewish roots. I urge you to rediscover Israel’s God; the God Whom Jesus himself worshipped; the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob — not the God of Justin Martyr, Arius, or Basil the Great.

Some will wonder what is so important about “getting back to our Jewish roots”? I mean, Judaism is a different religion, is it not?

More importantly, don’t these last three (or at least the last two – see below) also worship the god of Abe and Jesus? I think Burke oversells his theory, suggesting that unless you buy this, you may be worshiping another god. How likely is this, I wonder, for current day Christians?

Suppose I have a friend who thinks I (1) have huge muscles, (2) speak Chinese in addition to English, (3) love the New England Patriots, and (4) am half space alien. (He’s kind of a weird guy.) This friend is mistaken on all four counts – but he’s still my friend. These false beliefs about me may throw up somewhat of a barrier to our friendship, in certain situations. I’ll wish that he was better informed, but I’m not going to reject him for his false beliefs about me, even if he’s culpable for them. There are limits to this – it’s hard to see how I could be friends with someone who thought I was a wallaby, a donut, or a pair of socks.

Justin Martyr and Arius think, like Burke, that the one true god is the Father. So… they believed in Israel’s God, no? Even if they think he created the world by means of a newly formed, divine helper or two. (Basil is another case… if  I understand him, he identifies God with an ineffable, simple divine nature.)

Again, consider Bowman, if Burke is right. Bowman worships the Father, considering him to be the one true god. That he, if Burke is right, is confused about Jesus and the Holy Spirit, doesn’t take this fact away. Doesn’t Bowman love the things God loves, in particular, Jesus? Are Bowman’s beliefs inconsistent? If so, this isn’t a good thing, but it won’t prevent his worshiping God and serving him.

In sum, Burke recaps what has been a pretty strong case. But he makes some points which, though they delight the choir (other unitarians), either beg the question (assume what needs proving), or are not very relevant when debating a non-unitarian. These too aggressive reaches are a debating mistake; one thinks one is going in for the kill, but in reality, hostile and some neutral listeners tune out.

Next time: Bowman’s closing statement.

First, he reiterates that the Bible doesn’t explicitly talk of any triple-personed god, but instead calls the God of the Jews the Father. His Son is Jesus, and they stand in a hierarchy as two persons – the Son “under” the Father – over the realm of angels. He says that “Scripture never includes the Holy Spirit in this hierarchy”, but this begs the question – Bowman’s fifth round focused on passages which he thinks puts the Spirit at the top of the hierarchy alongside Father and Son. Again, I complain about the format of the debate, which forces the debaters to talk past one another.

Second, he cites numerous passages to show that his unitarian take on the Trinity is consonant with apostolic teaching – with their language but also with their concepts, to throw the burden on the trinitarian. About the triadic passages Bowman focuses on, he says only this: “all three were recognised as sources of apostolic authority… It is therefore natural that they appear together in ways which reflect this relationship…” Sources? Like, authorities (selves possessing authority)? I think this needs more spelling out, to make it clearly consistent with Burke’s other views, and to show that it is well-motivated. I read something interesting on this recently.

Can of worms #1: early catholic theology. The most famous of 2nd c. catholic theologians were subordinationists – they held that Jesus was “generated” by the Father through a mysterious act of will prior to the creation of the cosmos. Although they thought of this as the expression of God’s internal and eternal “word” or thought, this is incompatible with later orthodoxy, because the Son isn’t eternal, and is arguably not “fully divine” – as he exists because of something else – God. At times, they even call the Son “a second god”. Burke observes:

None of these early church fathers were Biblical Unitarians – but they weren’t Trinitarians either… even as late as the 4th c…. Christians were hopelessly confused… [even then] the Trinity was still not a fully established doctrine. …Rob is vague about the point at which he believes the church embraced true Trinitarianism, but I receive a general sense that he perceives an implicit Trinitarian Christology within the NT which quickly gave rise to fully-fledged Trinitarianism. …But the history of Trinitarianism… reveals an excruciating mess of debate, controversy, and confusion… How can Trinitarianism be the doctrine once preached by the apostles…? …It is contrary to reason, antagonistic to Scripture, and undermined by the record of history.

So Burke’s point is that trinitarianism can’t have been part of the apostolic message. How does Bowman respond to this blast? Tune in next time, in which I discuss his long response in a comment, and bring up some other relevant historical information.

Can of worms #2: Could a fully divine Jesus have been tempted? A fully divine being can’t sin. Bowman holds that Jesus is and has always been fully divine. So, there can never have been any possibility of Jesus sinning. But, counters Burke, the Bible says outright that he was tempted. And a being which can’t sin, can’t really be tempted. Saith Burke: “the statement ‘Jesus could be tempted but was not capable of sin’ is both self-refuting and utterly meaningless.” (BTW – he should stick with the first – that statement is not meaningless - apparently contradictory statements have meaning, which is how we can tell they are contradictory.) Moreover, the NT says that he could be tempted and could have sinned.

Bowman fires back in a lengthy comment, #18. He says some interesting things regarding this issue, but the gist is that Burke “confuses capability with moral capacity”. Jesus was capable or sinning, but never had any moral capacity to sin. Bowman here makes a move here akin to what compatibilists about human freedom say – that a choice being free doesn’t require ever having had an unconditional ability to choose otherwise, but only conditional abilities – one would have chosen otherwise had various other factors been otherwise. (Factors over which one never had any control!) This is worrisome – in my view compatibilism (about determinism and human freedom) has been refuted by van Inwagen’s famous “consequence argument”. Many philosophers would agree with me, although philosophers are heavily divided on this.

Suppose that tomorrow, a voice boomed from the heavens, “No more dynamite explosions!” And lo and behold, all dynamite in the world was, by the hand of God, rendered inert – incapable of exploding. Either God has changed the laws of nature, or he’s just determined to constantly intervene. For the time being, your dynamite collection is ruined. No more redneck fishing for you and your buddies.

But on a street corner, you’re seduced by the promise of a black market explosives dealer – “I promise, son, that I’ve got some explodable dynamite here.” You examine it – it really is dynamite, and purchase some. You find that it won’t explode. But the salesman says “I meant it had the capability of exploding – not the actual capacity of exploding. It has what it takes to explode were God to rescind his decision to disallow dynamite explosions.” You feel that you’ve been deceived, and you and your redneck buddies proceed to kick the salesman’s derrière - but the fact is, what he said was consistent. By “explodable” he meant only that in some possible, non-actual situations, this stuff gets set off – never mind that those situations are ones inaccessible to us (unless we change God’s mind).

Contrast this, though, with what Bowman is saying. Jesus is God. Are there any possible situations in which God sins? No. So, Jesus sinning is no more possible than it being true that 2 + 2 = 5 – Jesus exists no matter what, and is essentially perfect in every way. Bowman says

Jesus had the capability, physically speaking, of committing sins (e.g., he had a mouth and knew enough to lie; he had hands and was physically capable of stealing)…

But none of those, or even all put together are sufficient to make Jesus able to sin. That he has capacities which other beings might be able to sin with is irrelevant. God has these, but we (most of us) say that God can’t sin. (e.g. smiting power, which God shares with murderers) To say that a person can do X only if some contradiction is true (or if some absolutely impossible situation is actual) is just a way of saying that it is absolutely impossible for that person to do X. Bowman holds that Jesus can sin. But supposing Jesus to sin is, in his view, to suppose that a being which is essentially impeccable sins – which is a contradiction. Could, say, a ping-pong ball sin? By this sort of reasoning, sure! I has no actual capacity of sinning, but if it were a self with moral knowledge (which I take it is not possible for this little plastic globe) then it could. Could a potato perform a waltz? Sure – if it here a living human being. (But wait – that’s not possible…)

In short, Bowman is urging that we believe in abilities or powers or capacities which in principle can’t be exercised or realized – in philosophical lingo, such that in no possible world does the being in question actualize it. This, however, is absurd – the notion of an absolutely (or in principle) unrealizable potentiality. Such a thing isn’t a potentiality at all – we’re being urged to believe in a sort of property or characteristic – one which is and isn’t a potential for being a certain way. Let’s not dignify this with the title “paradox”; it is but a lowly contradiction, and one that in any other application we would all dismiss out of hand. Also, notice that this point has nothing to do particularly with theology. It is a serious cost if a theology needs such a questionable claim.

Bowman here urges a false dilemma – either his view of Christ is true, or (if Burke is right) Jesus might have at any moment sinned, thus imperiling God’s whole plan. But this is a mistake. Being able to sin at some time or other isn’t the same as being able to easily sin at any moment. Thus, nothing about Burke’s view commits him to a shaky, easy-to-fall-away Jesus. Nor is it obvious that Jesus or God would have to be 100% certain that Jesus would never sin – it depends on one’s theory of divine providence. Molinists and others would urge that they could be certain of that, even if Jesus was free to sin.

In his comment, Bowman helpfully formalizes the argument:

The anti-Trinitarian argument, superficially, looks unassailable:

P1. God cannot be tempted.
P2. Christ was tempted.
C. Therefore, Christ was not God.

Bowman argues that “being tempted” is equivocal. If it mains actually giving in to a temptation, that P1 is true but P2 is false. But if it means a certain feeling or quality of experience, then P2 is true but (I take it) P1 is false – God can experience that feeling. He urges that James 1:13 can be reading as having to do with giving into temptation.

Be that as it may, what if “tempting” is putting one into a situation in which one has the ability, in that situation, to as it were say yes to a desire to do something wrong? In that sense, Bowman must say that P2 is false. Problem is, this is the sense most readers are going to see in the texts talking of Christ being tempted. I suspect that his merely experiential sense of “being tempted” has been concocted to save his theology – can he point to any case in the Bible or anywhere in the ancient world where “being tempted” is merely experiential (i.e. it merely describes a certain felt quality of experience), and doesn’t imply some actual capacity for and actual pull towards sin?

Finally, Bowman probably holds, like I think most evangelicals, that after our glorification – after you and me are resurrected, and living in the presence of God in the new heavens and the new earth –  we won’t be able to sin. But if he grants this, he grants that a normal human may, by the action of God, be rendered incapable of sinning. So even if he’s right that Jesus was incapable of sinning, that doesn’t show or suggest that he was divine. Moreover, if he grants this, he can’t complain about the alleged weirdness or obscurity of Burke’s claim that Jesus was made able to completely avoid sin by the Holy Spirit. So, does he grant this – that a human may be rendered impeccable?

Next time: history.

I was duped. If you are honest with yourself, you will admit that you were too. Duped in what way? Duped into believing that the writers knew what they were doing. Duped into thinking that they were less confused than we were. …Although every viewer was completely confused for six years, this did not matter. The confusion only added to the intrigue. We all trusted that the series finale would give us all the answers. We trusted that they knew what they were doing. …Escalation after escalation only handed us more hope. Confusion became our friend as we would discuss so many questions…

We were all lost and we loved it.

We worked under the valid assumption that all of these questions had answers. Of course, this does not mean that we will like the answers, but it was the risk we were willing to take. …We just wanted answers. That is why we watched the show. And we were trusting enough to wait six years to be satisfied.

But such was not the case. At the conclusion of last night’s episode the horrible reality surfaced. That which we all fear in places we don’t like to go became a reality: The writers did not know the answers either.

Oh, and don’t you try to spin this. Don’t you dare. …The arc we thought was there was an illusion. This series took a risk. It was only as good as the resolution and there was none. The writers did not know what they were doing. Hence concluded the greatest hoax in American television history. Hence the realization that the writers of LOST were just as lost as all of us. (emphases added)

By all means, read the whole thing (and the torrent of comments).

Beyond its eloquence, I enjoyed this for three reasons. First, I’ve been observing this disease in my wife, a Lostee. (Luckily, she wasn’t in for a whole six years, thanks to Netflix.) Already heard her version of the rant. Second, I get to gloat, as I steered clear of this series (sounded like too much work). Third, this rant bears remarkable similarities to rants I’ve indulged in after buying and trying to read an over-priced, poorly written book by a much vaunted theologian who is supposed to be an expert on the Trinity. Those rants sometimes involve some mild form of book abuse. Hopefully, Patton didn’t kick his TV, or attempt to throw it.

[Burke:] “This week I hope Rob will show Biblical evidence for the essential relationship formulae of Trinitarianism:
1. Father = ‘God’, Son = ‘God’ and Holy Spirit = ‘God’
2. ‘God’ = Father + Son + Holy Spirit  . . .

[Bowman] I have already responded to this argument of yours. Your demand that I must prove these two statements “independent of each other” is an absurd demand calculated to place an unreasonable burden on me that you know cannot be met.

As you know, Dave, if statement #1 is true, and if there is only one God (one single eternal divine being), then statement #2 follows. However, you and I already agree that there is only one eternal divine being. Therefore, I do not need to argue for this premise of the doctrine of the Trinity.

Gentlemen, forgive me, but this is confused. We must clarify the meaning of “=” here. I believe that Bowman means  numerical identity in 1. (I’m not sure – I think  his position forces him to be unclear about this – but let that pass.) Let us, then, add the extra premise Bowman mentions (as being held in common). We then get this:

f=g & s=g & h=g

(x)(y) (Dx -> (Dy -> x=y))   [For any x and any y, x is divine only if, if y is divine, then it just is x.]

The first premise is trouble, because it implies f=s=h.

But what to make of “‘God’ = Father + Son + Holy Spirit”. What does the “+” signify? One may (and some will) think of it as the combination of parts, or some kind of conjunction of different things. But this would shift the meaning of “=”. Numerical identity is a one-to-one (actually, always a reflexive) relation – never one-to-many. So if the right hand side is read to mean some kind of conjunction, addition, or combination, then the “=” cannot mean identity. It might mean something like “consists of”, “is a whole constituted by”, or something like that. But whatever it means, it does not logically follow from 1 & 2.

But this interpretation makes 2 irrelevant to 1. It may be that Bowman is thinking this:

Df & Ds & Dh    [Father is divine and Son is divine and Spirit is divine. (This "is" of predication, not the "is" of identity.)]

(x)(y) (Dx -> (Dy -> x=y))

From these, there is no reason to think any interpretation of “g = f+s+h” follows. (First we’d have to clarify the meaning of this latter claim, and then we’d have to add one or more premises, until we had a valid and sound argument.)

But this follows: f =s=h. As Homer Simpson would say: D’oh! Homework for interested readers. Why exactly is this something Bowman can’t accept? (There is more than one reason, I think.) Comment at will.

Bowman then retreats to familiar ground:

What you are really trying to do here is to claim that unless I can show some Bible verses in which the word “God” specifically refers to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit together, my case for the doctrine of the Trinity fails.

But that is a red herring. All we need is a seemingly sound argument, for a conclusion with which Bowman agrees, and which is arguably trinitarian! Instead Bowman brings back his apparently inconsistent set of five claims; we’ve looked at those before. Insofar as they seem inconsistent, the argument will not seem sound.

Worst job in heaven: being a foot-cherub!

I love study Bibles; at last count, I owned about eight of them. Of them all, the biggest, and most beautifully laid out, is the massive ESV Study Bible. It has wonderful maps and charts, and voluminous notes.

They do, though, have a very noticeable theological bias – really, it should be called the [American] Evangelical Study Bible. I heard a recorded lecture by General Editor Wayne Grudem, and he made it clear that, for example, a concern to save the doctrine of biblical inerrancy influenced some of the translations. In general, the translation itself is basically an update of the RSV. If you want to know how American evangelical theologians read any part of the Bible, the notes, articles, and translations here are  your handy guides – for better and worse.

Here’s some of the worse: to my surprise, the confused realm of Social Trinitarian speculation has invaded an appendix called “Biblical Doctrine an Overview”, in the “Trinity” section. In the four point summary of “the” doctrine of the Trinity, it is conveniently vague as to whether the one divine nature is a universal or a particular. (The former would fit better with ST, although their following entry on Christ makes it sound like his divine nature is a particular.)

But the part which really surprised me is this:

3. Because God is triune, he has eternally been personal and relational in his own being, in full independence from his creation. God has never had any unmet needs, “nor is he served by human hands, as though he needed anything, since he himself give to all mankind life and breath and everything (Acts 17:25). Personhood becomes real only within realized relationships, and the reality of relationship can only exist where one has something or someone that is not oneself to relate to; if, then, God had not been plural in himself he could not have been a personal, relational God till he had begun creating, and thus would have been dependent on creation for his own personhood, which is a notion as nonsensical as it is unscriptural. Between the persons of the Trinity, there has always existed total relational harmony and expression; God is, from this standpoint, a perfect society in himself. Apart from the plurality of the Trinity, either God’s eternal independence of the created order or his eternally relational personal existence would have to be denied.

4. The Trinity provides the ultimate model for relationships within the body of Christ and marriage. …

Biblical Christianity stands or falls with the doctrine of the Trinity. (p. 2515b, emphases added)

You’ve got to love that last rhetorical spasm (Everything, I say, depends on this! Either agree with me on this, or you got nothin‘.) You also have to love the careful weaseling about whether God is literally a group – “from this standpoint”. We won’t ask whether God, being a “him”, is a fourth divine person, in addition to the three others which (somehow) compose him. The point urged here, is that God couldn’t possibly be (identical to) a person; rather, he (“he”?) must contain at least one person and someone (“something”??) else for that person to relate to.

We’ve debunked this sort of reasoning before here on trinities, here. The above does nothing whatever to show that either of these scenarios are impossible: a single divine person existed alone in a timeless state “before” creation, or such a person existed for a million years alone but in time (literally) before creation. Yet, this is what the argument is, lamely, trying to do. No reason has been given to accept the implausible premise that “Personhood becomes real only within realized relationships”. This is not obviously true, and further, it positively seems possible that there just be a single self / person in the cosmos, just thinking, e.g. “I’m all that’s here”.

The author is just repeating a common, yet bad, piece of reasoning – it seem to not occur to him or her that this implausible premise even needs to be argued for. Most disturbingly, this is being foisted on the layman as part and parcel of “Biblical Christianity”, in what is a sort of reference source – where speculation would seem out of place.

Things like this somewhat temper my love of study Bibles…