Saturday, June 29, 2024

Simple Gospel, Solid Ground

I've argued that "the historian is an apologist" (link), but it must also be true that the apologist is an historian - for if, as I've argued, "one cannot divorce Christianity from history," any defense of or attack on Christianity will entail a defense of or attack on a particular view of history. Simple examples would include that a Christian must defend the past historicity of the resurrection (1 Corinthians 15), the prophetic historicity of the final judgment (Revelation 20ff.), and so forth.

My interest in the history of the Orthodox Presbyterian church - of which I am a member - was kindled last year, and I am surprised how quickly that interest has enflamed into an attempt to more broadly understand post-apostolic Christianity. I'm only aware of Gavin Ortlund (link), Jason Engwer (link), Turretinfan (link), William Webster and David T. King (link), and a few other Protestants here or there who accessibly yet seriously engage church history. As usual, this probably speaks to my own limitations.

Now, while I would generally recommend these Protestant resources, I actually have not spent a dedicated amount of time listening to or reading them. One reason is that I think Protestants such as myself are better off asking question in and learning from the shepherds in local churches. Relationships, friends, and confidants are made in the real world. 

A second reason is that I like apologetic "shortcuts" in the sense that even if I mastered all the material put out by these or other Protestants, it wouldn't make much practical difference if I were to discover that non-Protestants raise concerns or ask questions which these Protestants don't cover. That is, doesn't it make sense for Protestants who are interested in the defensibility of Protestantism to read non-Protestants for a sense of what are regarded as problematic barriers to entry?

Well, I think the answer to this question is: it depends. A few weeks ago, I was speaking to a younger man after evening service, a man who is in the process of deciding which local church to join. I believe he is in his 20s. Our conversation spanned many topics, and at some point - speaking of "barriers to entry" - I mentioned that I had done some recent research into Eastern Orthodoxy and their apologists for reasons mentioned in this post.

He responded with more wisdom and boldness than is typical for someone his age. It was something to the following effect: "be mindful of how much you listen to their apologists; you might find yourself allured to or sympathizing with them." At this, I smiled. His concern (and other remarks he made in the course of our discussion) led me to complementing him on being very measured. His advice is sound!

James 1:2-8 Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing. If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him. But let him ask in faith, with no doubting, for the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea that is driven and tossed by the wind. For that person must not suppose that he will receive anything from the Lord; he is a double-minded man, unstable in all his ways.

The young man was implicitly advising that I ensure that I am steadfast in the faith before encountering teachers who might otherwise toss me in[to] doubt. Likewise:

Colossians 1:22-23 he has now reconciled in his body of flesh by his death, in order to present you holy and blameless and above reproach before him, if indeed you continue in the faith, stable and steadfast, not shifting from the hope of the gospel that you heard...

2 Timothy 3:15 and how from childhood you have been acquainted with the sacred writings, which are able to make you wise for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus.

As a happy, blessed, and new father, I will not raise my child with an intention to expose him to false teachers (even for pedagogical purposes). Of course, I will point out false teachings, and there will come a time at which my son must become mature enough to hear and refute false teachers, but I am reminded of J. Gresham Machen's remark that the best way to spot a counterfeit is by having acquaintance with that which is authentic or true. 

For Protestants who consider themselves open to the possibility that Protestantism is false, I think that evidences a need to prioritize the shoring up of their faith. Such persons are not better off listening to false teachers, especially not those who pretend that one can more or less evaluate worldviews "neutrally" (link). By God's grace, I don't have any doubts about the truth of Protestantism, but this is not to say I think there is anything shameful in recognizing that one is at a stage in sanctification in which he is more benefitted from learning truth than in applying said truths to refute error. The former recognition is wisdom too.

With these caveats in mind, I sincerely believe that Protestants who truly understand sola scriptura and the weakness of arguments against it have nothing to fear in reading church history. In fact, more Protestant apologists are needed in this arena, for as I've listened to various non-Protestant groups (e.g. Oriental Orthodox, Assyrian, Eastern Orthodox, Roman Catholicism), it is here that much interaction seems to be taking place. Lord willing, I plan to write more about this, for it is fascinating that those who oppose sola scriptura experience more disagreement about the contents and perspicuity of post-apologetic, so-called "infallible" authorities (cf. here and here), sometimes even within their own traditions.

But the advice of the young man remains: Christians must first learn from and be rooted in faith in God's word. Of course, God's word is taught and preached. Christians come to know this word by various, God-ordained means. But ultimately, because the Word of God is truth (John 14:6) and light (John 1:9), His words are light from light and give light: the sum of God's word is truth (Psalm 119), and by Him and it we are sanctified (John 17:17). Simply put, one ought to be solidly grounded in God's word before it is advisable to listen to the testimonies of others:

1 John 5:9 If we receive the testimony of men, the testimony of God is greater, for this is the testimony of God that he has borne concerning his Son.

Tuesday, June 4, 2024

Eastern Orthodoxy, Original Sin, Normative Authority, and Epistemology

I'm struck by how incautious authorities within Eastern Orthodoxy can be regarding the significance of original sin. As one example, in a video posted recently, Eastern Orthodox bishop Irenei of London & Western Europe said (link): 
We are born spotless. There is no human ever ever born sinful, as if he were already a sinner by virtue of his constitution. God does not create like this, and every human being is born pure as Adam was fashioned pure. Yet we are touched by sin from the very beginning. By the time we open our eyes to the world, the sinfulness of the world is already having an impact on us.
He borders on suggesting that original sin merely refers to Adam's progeny having to be born into a corrupted, external world. Agreements and disagreements with this very sentiment emerged in the comments. Now, as I already noted in a recent post that there appears to be an intramural debate within Eastern Orthodoxy on this point (link), I'm not surprised. 

But given their commitments to conciliarism - I'll return to this point later - the most "consistent" of Eastern Orthodox apologists will verbally state some kind of acceptance of original sin. But because they reject original guilt, I infer that laymen and even bishops will sometimes mistakenly reject any version of original sin. Michael Pomazansky, in Orthodox Dogmatic Theology, says:
Some Orthodox Christians have mistakenly defended the Augustinian notion of "original guilt" — that is, that all men have inherited the guilt of Adam's sin — and others, going to the opposite extreme, have denied altogether the inheritance of sinfulness from Adam. Fr. Michael rightly points out, in his balanced presentation, that from Adam we have indeed inherited our tendency towards sin, together with the death and corruption that are now part of our sinful nature, but we have not inherited the guilt of Adam's personal sin.
My own explanation for this is alluded to in an earlier post and more clearly outlined on pages 125ff. of Andrew Louth's defense of EO in Original Sin and the Fall: Five Views, which reads as follows:
The doctrine of the immaculate conception of the Virgin Mary is not accepted by the Orthodox Church. Yet, as Meyendorff has observed, “the Mariological piety of the Byzantines would probably have led them to accept the definition of the dogma of the Immaculate Conception of Mary as it was defined in 1854, if only they had shared the Western doctrine of original sin.” But exempting the Virgin Mary from original sin must mean exempting her from the effects of the fall; in some way she is separated from the rest of the human race, who experience the fallen state through participating in (being guilty of) original sin. Paintings of the immaculate conception, depicting the Virgin Mary raised up, on the moon, or borne up by putti, seem to emphasize her separation from the rest of humanity. In contrast, the Byzantine liturgical texts (though plundered for the Latin feast of the immaculate conception) see Mary as part of humanity, in particular the crowning glory of the Old Testament church, emphasizing that she belongs to the Jewish race: “the beauty of Jacob,” as she is called in one of the liturgical hymns. Although confessed as sinless, the Virgin is not regarded as exempt from the consequences of sin. She lived in a sinful world and suffered temptation as we all do. For if her Son was “tested as we are, yet without sin” (Heb 4:15), she can hardly have been exempt. Maybe here original sin meets its reductio ad adsurdum, if it means that the Savior and his mother must be considered free from original sin, for they were not exempt from the struggle against temptation that is part of the fallen human lot.
Louth is rejecting the Augustinian understanding of original sin insofar as it entails original guilt, not original sin as such (he prefers the terminology of "ancestral" sin, as do some others within Eastern Orthodoxy). Now, I believe Louth is mistaken insofar as it is my understanding that Eastern Orthodoxy exempts Christ from the effects of original sin. 

Leaving that aside, though, he is correct about Mary: original guilt would mean that Mary was guilty. So when someone like Michael Pomazansky says, "The Most Holy Virgin was born as subject to the sin of Adam together with all mankind, and with him she shared the need for redemption," what he means is not that Mary was guilty before God - on Eastern Orthodoxy, that would only be the case if her own actions were sinful - but that Adam's sins have conveyed negative consequences (e.g. mortality, passions) to all Adam's progeny except Christ and from which they are in need of "salvation."

Eastern Orthodox apologists whom I have read or listened to who try to accept original guilt within their larger framework - and I've seen a few try it - all fail to engage this point on Mary. For just one example, see here for an unsuccessful attempt to interact with Augustine's use of particular, Latin terms with which at least one interlocutor, host Craig Truglia, was admittedly (and obviously) unfamiliar. Both apologists seemed unaware of Augustine's acceptance of reatus culpa when they tried to suggest he agreed with their view, which would be odd except that the apologist who noted this terminology admitted he failed to read the whole article from which he learned of it in the first place (see below)! This is a textbook example of a little knowledge being a dangerous thing. They also reference Pomazansky, but they made no mention of what I quote from him above, let alone show awareness of the implications any of this has for their Mariology. 

Now, I've argued other grounds why I think rejection of original guilt (particularly, reatus culpa) is problematic, some of which I'll touch on again momentarily. These problems are not only for Eastern Orthodoxy (example) but certainly include it.

But I'll also use this occasion to discuss "normative authority," a concept Eastern Orthodox apologists sometimes argue is an advantage they have over against Protestantism. In this context, Orthodox apologists usually emphasize church councils and synods. Commonly, this is framed in terms such as who decides interpretations of Scripture that are "binding."

For starters, it seems obvious enough that even a bishop can make mistakes. Many Eastern Orthodox believers seem comfortable enough to admit this is the case with Irenei and to thereby reject that any authority he possesses is sufficient to "bind" them to his teaching in the above video. So let's look at a confession produced by the Synod of Jerusalem (1672). Here is what the Confession of Dositheus says on the topic of original sin:
We believe Holy Baptism, which was instituted by the Lord, and is conferred in the name of the Holy Trinity, to be of the highest necessity. For without it none is able to be saved, as the Lord says, “Whoever is not born of water and of the Spirit, shall in no way enter into the Kingdom of the Heavens.” {John 3:5} And, therefore, baptism is necessary even for infants, since they also are subject to original sin, and without Baptism are not able to obtain its remission. Which the Lord showed when he said, not of some only, but simply and absolutely, “Whoever is not born [again],” which is the same as saying, “All that after the coming of Christ the Savior would enter into the Kingdom of the Heavens must be regenerated.” And since infants are men, and as such need salvation, needing salvation they need also Baptism. And those that are not regenerated, since they have not received the remission of hereditary sin, are, of necessity, subject to eternal punishment, and consequently cannot without Baptism be saved. So that even infants should, of necessity, be baptized. Moreover, infants are saved, as is said in Matthew;{Matthew 19:12} but he that is not baptized is not saved. And consequently even infants must of necessity be baptized. (The Confession of Dositheus, Decree 16)

Perry Robinson, a prominent Orthodox apologist, has written that this synodical document is one to which Eastern Orthodox believers "must adhere" (link):

Next Hank talks of the Confession of Dositheus as an “Orthodox writing.” Well, its more than just a “writing.” It is a synodally affirmed document and one that anathematizes Protestantism, to which Hank must adhere. So here it seems Hank is trying to play down its significance. Maybe he missed its synodal standing when he read Bp. Ware’s book, The Orthodox Church?
On the other hand, Robinson also intimates this synod itself was not infallible and that is not as authoritative as others synods or councils (link):
If the council were ecumenical then it would be infallible. I would think that Catholics would agree that local synods aren’t necessarily infallible. I would also think that Catholics would agree that there are degrees of authority and means for expressing them. While it is true that councils a step down from ecumenical councils hold authority, it doesn’t follow that they bind equally. This is uncontroversial for Catholics so I don’t know on what grounds you are pressing it as some kind of problem for Orthodox ecclesiology.
This is difficult to decipher. Does Robinson think one "must adhere" to a document which contains errors? Or is Robinson suggesting that the document is a fallible yet true and [subordinately?] authoritative product? Or is Robinson suggesting we can filter out false statements from true ones within this [subordinately?] authoritative product, or that only the true statements are [subordinately?] authoritative? These are questions any Eastern Orthodox apologist will need to answer. 

If Decree 16 of the Confession of Dositheus is binding, then Eastern Orthodox believers are bound to believe that infants are subject to eternal punishment. But if they reject original guilt - that infants are guilty of sin - such punishment is unjust. It would be most amusing if the charges of nominalism and voluntarism one often hears Eastern Orthodox apologists level against Reformed theology are actually applicable to their views.

If Decree 16 of the Confession of Dositheus is not binding, how is an Eastern Orthodox believer able to determine:
i) which synods or councils (or decrees, canons, or products thereof) are binding and which are not (e.g. Palamite synods)?; 

ii) what is the meaning and/or to what "degree" is a synod or council "binding" (which seems to suggest lower and higher rules of faith)?; 

iii) answers to i) and ii) in such a way that Protestants cannot make an analogous case for sola scriptura?
Take another example. The recent Council of Crete (2016) might lead one to think that the Synod of Jerusalem and Confession of Dositheus is binding:
3. The Orthodox Church, in her unity and catholicity, is the Church of Councils, from the Apostolic Council in Jerusalem (Acts 15.5-29) to the present day. The Church in herself is a Council, established by Christ and guided by the Holy Spirit, in accord with the apostolic words: “It seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us” (Acts 15.28). Through the Ecumenical and Local councils, the Church has proclaimed and continues to proclaim the mystery of the Holy Trinity, revealed through the incarnation of the Son and Word of God. The Conciliar work continues uninterrupted in history through the later councils of universal authority, such as, for example, the Great Council (879-880) convened at the time of St. Photios the Great, Patriarch of Constantinople, and also the Great Councils convened at the time of St. Gregory Palamas (1341, 1351, 1368), through which the same truth of faith was confirmed, most especially as concerns the procession of the Holy Spirit and as concerns the participation of human beings in the uncreated divine energies, and furthermore through the Holy and Great Councils convened in Constantinople, in 1484 to refute the unionist Council of Florence (1438-1439), in 1638, 1642, 1672 and 1691 to refute Protestant beliefs, and in 1872 to condemn ethno-phyletism as an ecclesiological heresy.
Note also that the Council of Crete declares itself to have been given by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit:
With a hymn of thanksgiving, we praise and worship God in Trinity, who has enabled us to gather together during the days of the feast of Pentecost here on the island of Crete, which has been sanctified by St. Paul, the Apostle to the Gentiles, and his disciple Titus, his “true son in the common faith” (Tit 1.4), and, by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, to conclude the sessions of this Holy and Great Council of our Orthodox Church – convened by His All-Holiness Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew, by the common will of Their Beatitudes the Primates of the most holy Orthodox Churches – for the glory of His most holy Name and for the great blessing of His people and of the whole world, confessing with the divine Paul: “Let people then regard us thus: as servants of Christ and stewards of the mysteries of God” (1 Cor 4.1).
Through a spokesman, the ecumenical patriarch of Constantinople further declared that the Council of Crete is "binding" (link). Is this, then, an open and shut case that the Synod of Jerusalem (and Confession of Dositheus) is binding? 

Not quite! Four Eastern Orthodox churches - representing a significant percentage of the worldwide population of Eastern Orthodoxy - declined to participate in the Council of Crete. Several of these churches (e.g. Antioch) convened synods in which they stated that the Council of Crete is not binding. But since then, the ecumenical patriarch wrote a letter of admonishment (link) in which he reaffirmed "the binding nature of its documents for all the Orthodox faithful, clergy and lay..."

If I'm Eastern Orthodox, who am I supposed to believe, and why am I supposed to believe them? Are Eastern Orthodox apologists left with "private judgment" as they themselves have constructed the concept when straw-manning Protestantism (regarding which I've always found this post by Steve Hays to be helpful - see more below)? If not, what criteria are supposed to be applied, and - just as importantly - on what normative and/or epistemic grounds in said criteria used? 

Robinson's once theorized answer of pentarchical ratification was critiqued long ago by Steve Hays (link, link, link, link, link). There's no need for me to repeat Hays' points, especially as it seems quite a few other Eastern Orthodox apologists have shied away from Robinson's theory (exampleexampleexample) in favor of different forms of the very "receptionism" view that Robinson suspects is due to a reliance on "pop-Orthodox" works. 

Several of these other apologists explicitly embrace circularity. If this sounds Van Tilian, it's because they have either implicitly or even explicitly borrowed from him and, therefore, are susceptible to points a foundationalist - such as myself - make (link).

These apologists also tend to conflate performative contradictions (e.g. you can't perform an apologetic against language or logic without using language and logic) with the structure of epistemic justification, as if apologetic circularity somehow entails justificatory circularity. 

Further, these apologists attempt to leverage this bait-and-switch by begging the question, analogizing an internal contradiction inherent in concrete examples of performative contradictions to an alleged internal contradiction if one rejects their particular "paradigm" of circularity. When it is pointed out to them that anyone can make an assertion such as "my circle is good and yours isn't" (do they think that claim is also "justified" circularly?) they completely fail to recognize that the way in which they typically respond to it - which is to admit the point and pivot to apologetics - is equally available to foundationalists who encounter objections on the grounds that anyone can assert their foundation is self-justifying. They further fail to address problems with a coherentist structure of justification, which I've critiqued elsewhere (link).

Now, all Eastern Orthodox receptionists will need to answer whether there are any authorities in any situations in which one may instantly know they are speaking infallibly. 

1a. If so, which and why? In one example I link to above, an Eastern Orthodox apologist appeals to the remarks of a fallible bishop to prop up his entire receptionist criteria. Talk about a fallible list of infallible "books"!

1b. Or if the Eastern Orthodox apologists will attempt to borrow still more from, say, a presuppositionalist such as myself and claim that one can know such foundationally, these apologists will have abandoned receptionism as meaningfully distinct from the Protestant doctrine of the self-authenticity of divine revelation, the usual arguments one encounters against sola scriptura, and any pretense that their position is advantageous with respect to Protestantism. In fact, they will have the harder responsibility of reconciling conciliar promulgations with their larger "paradigm," on which see more below. These apologists would also need to answer whether one may know that the eighth "ecumenical" council and Palamite councils are infallible, on which I believe there is some question within Eastern Orthodoxy.

2. If not - if "reception" is a condition for knowledge which takes time - then not only will these apologists face questions regarding what "reception" entails (what are the criteria and why?) but also the following question: for one who hears the words of a council before such time as it may be "received," is the hearer obligated to accept the promulgations of said council at the time he heard it or not? If he is not obligated, then it would appear that normative authority actually rests in whatever are the criteria for "reception." If he is obligated, then one is obligated to accept that which might be damnably false. And for those apologists who would argue ad hoc that a hearer is only obliged if the council is true and will be received (despite the fact the hearer doesn't know it at the time), they will be placing hearer of Councils in an epistemic dilemma: if they accept the council, they risk believing damnable error; if they reject or refrain from belief in the council, they risk rejecting or refraining from belief in that which is obligatory. Take, for example, the so-called "robber" council of Ephesus.

The Orthodox view of "normative authority" is not as perspicuous as their apologists project, let alone their claim that it advantages them in contrast to Protestantism. The reverse seems to be the case.

[Side note before proceeding: keeping in mind these criticisms, given that Eastern Orthodoxy would seem to view the second council of Nicaea in 787 as ecumenical and infallible, at the very least, Eastern Orthodoxy seems committed to accepting a doctrine of original sin. To understand why this is the case, take Canon 110 of the Council of Carthage (419), which states:

Likewise it seemed good that whosoever denies that infants newly from their mother's wombs should be baptized, or says that baptism is for remission of sins, but that they derive from Adam no original sin, which needs to be removed by the laver of regeneration, from whence the conclusion follows, that in them the form of baptism for the remission of sins, is to be understood as false and not true, let him be anathema.

For no otherwise can be understood what the Apostle says, By one man sin has come into the world, and death through sin, and so death passed upon all men in that all have sinned, than the Catholic Church everywhere diffused has always understood it. For on account of this rule of faith (regulam fidei) even infants, who could have committed as yet no sins themselves, therefore are truly baptized for the remission of sins, in order that what in them is the result of generation may be cleansed by regeneration.

This council was accepted by the Council of Trullo (Canon 2). In turn, the Council of Trullo (otherwise known as the Quinisext Council) was ratified at the second council of Nicaea - the so-called seventh "ecumenical" council - as having been adopted at the sixth "ecumenical" council:

[After a number of other quotations, was read the Canon of the Council in Trullo as a canon of the Sixth Synod (col. 233).]

Tarasius, the most holy Patriarch said: There are certain affected with the sickness of ignorance who are scandalized by these canons [viz. of the Trullan Synod] and say, And do you really think they were adopted at the Sixth Synod? Now let all such know that the holy great Sixth Synod was assembled at Constantinople concerning those who said that there was but one energy and will in Christ. These anathematized the heretics, and having expounded the orthodox faith, they went to their homes in the fourteenth year of Constantine. But after four or five years the same fathers came together under Justinian, the son of Constantine, and set forth the before-mentioned canons. And let no one doubt concerning them. For they who subscribed under Constantine were the same as they who under Justinian signed the present chart, as can manifestly be established from the unchangeable similarity of their own handwriting. For it was right that they who had appeared at an ecumenical synod should also set forth ecclesiastical canons. They said that we should be led as (by the hand) by the venerable images to the recollection of the incarnation of Christ and of his saving death, and if by them we are led to the realization of the incarnation of Christ our God, what sort of an opinion shall we have of them who break down the venerable images? (link)

See also the part in bold from Canon 1 of this council which indirectly references the Council of Trullo:

Seeing these things are so, being thus well-testified unto us, we rejoice over them as he that has found great spoil, and press to our bosom with gladness the divine canons, holding fast all the precepts of the same, complete and without change, whether they have been set forth by the holy trumpets of the Spirit, the renowned Apostles, or by the Six Ecumenical Councils, or by Councils locally assembled for promulgating the decrees of the said Ecumenical Councils, or by our holy Fathers. For all these, being illumined by the same Spirit, defined such things as were expedient. Accordingly those whom they placed under anathema, we likewise anathematize; those whom they deposed, we also depose; those whom they excommunicated, we also excommunicate; and those whom they delivered over to punishment, we subject to the same penalty. (link)

I'm approaching this topic from the perspective of a Protestant who aims to provide an internal critique. Roman Catholics might object to Eastern Orthodoxy on external grounds, as they reject the Council of Trullo. Interested readers can see here for more on that question.

But even granting Eastern Orthodox assumptions, irrespective of their view of the Confession of Dositheus, the foregoing appears to show that Eastern Orthodox apologists ought to accept that infants have sin in need of remission.

On this note, quoting Against Julian (link), Daniel Castellano - a Roman Catholic who is referenced by the pair of apologists I mentioned above who tried to harmonize original guilt with Eastern Orthodoxy - renders a convincing case that Augustine, who was present at the Council of Carthage in 419 and whose theology would seem to provide context to the meaning of "remission" in Canon 110, grounded liability to punishment in culpability:

In this life, even the baptized are subjected to evils, so one can hardly avoid the fact that humans are born under a yoke of affliction. Yet if God is just, there must be in infants guilt (culpam) deserving such punishment (poenam) (Ibid., VI, x, 31) Here, for the first time, St. Augustine clearly says there is culpa in infants, as opposed to mere reatus. He does this on the basis that justice demands there be some culpa for every poena. Yet the culpa that is in infants, we have just seen, is not their own by action, but Adam’s. It is theirs only by contagion. It is only after making this distinction that St. Augustine dares to ascribe culpa rather than reatus to the descendants of Adam.

The Apostle unequivocally teaches that we are all condemned in our nature: We were by nature children of wrath, even as the rest. [Eph. 2:3] (Ibid., VI, x, 33) This indicates that the reatus is in our nature, and at least suggests that the culpa may be in there also.

St. Augustine finally offers an explanation of how we are all culpable for Adam’s sin toward the end of Contra Iulianum. While expounding in whom all have sinned, he notes that Julian, who accepted the Latin rendering, interpreted it differently as because of whom all have sinned. (Ibid., VI, xxiv, 75) St. Augustine counters that a man does not commit personal sin because of Adam’s sin, but for some immediate cause; e.g., a murderer kills because he wants gold; Cain killed because he envied his brother. Rather, the Apostle means that all men have sinned by way of origin in one man, as it were in common, in the oneness of the mass. (Loc. cit.)

This is a sufficiently important expression that we should parse the Latin. In context, Julian denies the verse should be understood thus, so we discard the negative and the main clause, leaving: in uno homine omnes homines peccasse… originaliter, et tamquam in massae unione communiter. The first unusual word is originaliter, an adverbial form of ‘origin,’ so it modifies the verb. Thus we sinned by our origin. In other words, we have sinned by virtue of our descent from Adam. How can this be so? A second adverb is added, communiter. That is to say, we sinned jointly in the unity of the mass.

This need not mean that each of us was personally present in germine when Adam sinned. Rather, when Adam sinned, the human race sinned, for he and his wife were the human race. Since all partake of the same corrupted nature, we all sin jointly, not at some moment near the dawn of creation, but throughout all history on earth. St. Augustine is asserting a continuous solidarity of the human race in its corrupted nature. Indeed, such a solidarity is presupposed by any sensible interpretation of Christ’s redemptive act. The only innovation here is using that solidarity to express how the culpa for original sin is shared by the whole human race.

To uphold the view that all have sinned by our origin from Adam, it is necessary to refute Julian’s view that the Apostle is speaking only of our personal sins:
…if the Apostle had been talking about the imitation of sin, it would have been more fitting to say that sin passed to all men because there had first been Adam’s example, and he would have added that it passed to all men in that all have sinned by imitation of that one man. (Ibid., VI, xxiv, 77)

Julian complained that if the Apostle meant what Augustine says, he would have stated it more explicitly. The response above shows that what’s good for the goose is good for the gander. St. Paul was not writing for Julian or Augustine, so we should not expect either doctrine to be stated explicitly. Instead we should look to his context.

The context of Romans 5:12, repeated throughout the passage, is that through one man the wrath of God fell upon human race, and through another man the reconciliation of the human race with God was achieved. St. Augustine repeatedly cites Romans (as any reader can glean for himself) to prove that all, not just many, are said to be condemned in Adam and delivered in Christ. Once this is conceded, it must be acknowledged that this includes infants without personal sin, which leaves only original sin by which we are condemned.

More generally, he shows that it is consistent with reason, revelation, and justice that we have the culpa of Adam in us. He does not prove, however, that this really must be the case. The Orthodox, among others, would object to this strange way of speaking, where we are guilty of a sin that we did not commit in act.

A fitting conclusion given that the Eastern Orthodox apologist who cited Castellano has since defected to Roman Catholicism, a predictable outcome given that Augustine's doctrine of original guilt is incompatible with Eastern Orthodoxy's Mariology - her being subject to punishment for sin for which she is "culpable."

For the fuller context of Augustine's remarks, read Against Julian here.]

Turning to Protestantism, I came across a video in which Robinson lodged objections against sola scriptura. What I found to be the most interesting part of the video is Robinson's reference to former sparring partner, Steve Hays of Triablogue - particularly, his reference to Hays' response to Robinson on the question of "sola" vs. "solo" scriptura (link). Robinson alludes to future videos in which he will interact with Steve's thought, although that was some time ago. When and if he does, I hope he does a better job of representing Hays. Robinson says:
The first thing to note is that Hays agrees with me that the sola-solo description that Mathison puts out (posits) is untenable, right. And Hays essentially admits that my argument is successful - in not so many words, but that's pretty much what it ends up being. And so he constructs an idiosyncratic position - basically a kind of solo biblicist position - and he then reduces normativity to being accurate, to being truthful. So all that matters is that an interpretation is true, and so there really are no secondary authorities. You're not obligated to follow the Westminster Confession or anything else - only insofar as you judge it to be true. So in this way, he's essentially capitulating and rejecting the traditional, Reformed position. 

Now, if your response to my argument - the only way you can get out of it - is to say "well, the Reformed position is wrong," and "I'm going to take this other position," and "hahaha you can't touch me here, the argument doesn't touch me there," well, you've admitted that my argument is successful against the Reformed position. And if you have to excise yourself out of the Reformed position, that's a win as far as I'm concerned.

Of course, people largely "follow" whatever they "judge" to be true. But that's descriptive, not prescriptive. And that description applies just as much to someone like Robinson as it does to Hays (link). 

What, then, by way of prescription? I doubt Robinson agrees with Hays' alternative to Mathison's framework (link; link) - and I missed why Robinson does not consider Hays' position to count as within the purview of the Reformed tradition - so it would have been useful for Robinson to have responded to the following question by Hays: 

Suppose Perry uses ecumenical councils as his benchmark. If so, doesn't that just push the question back a step? By what authority does Perry determine which candidates for ecumenical councils are legitimate?

Does this suggest Hays' position entails oneself as a so-called "final authority," as Robinson states in the video? No. It's a solid, internal critique of Robinson's view. To the extent Robinson pushes back that he is not acting authoritatively, such an answer will be analogously available to Protestants regarding sola scriptura

Further, anyone who reads Hays' article can see that Robinson's above summary misstates Hays' position. Contra Robinson, Hays did not suggest that one is [only] obligated to follow what one "judges" to be true. Steve clearly writes: "We are obligated to believe a true interpretation of Scripture, whether or not we perceive it to be true." 

We might approach the distinction between authority and epistemology from another angle. To what extent the following would intersect with Hays' position is unclear, but contrary to the existentialist philosophy which saturates contemporary American culture, humans exist relationally: family, state, and church structures are hierarchical. As such, each structure has authoritative heads (link).

What does this mean? Well, an earthly father has "authority" over his household. He is the head responsible for the children within his house: for instructing his children, nourishing his children, protecting his children, raising his children, and, when appropriate, disciplining his children. If the child's father commands them to do their homework, eat their vegetables, or go to sleep, the child is bound or obligated to obey.

Likewise, a spiritual father has "authority" over his household. He is the head responsible for the children within his house: for instructing his children, nourishing his children, protecting his children, raising his children, and, when appropriate, disciplining his children. If the child's spiritual father commands them to recite a confession or hymn in unison, to gather together at a certain time on the Lord's Day, or to give heed to a certain Scriptural reading, the child is bound or obligated to obey.

Note that in these examples I use, the fathers might have permissibly chosen to obligate their children to do something else. Nevertheless, commands such as these are within the scope of each authority's power. 

That said, the authority of fathers only go so far. An earthly father cannot determine my spouse; a spiritual father cannot determine my job. Further, the authority of an earthly and a spiritual father are themselves normed by truth. These authorities have God-given prescriptions as well as proscriptions. 

I doubt Hays would have disagreed with this. If, say, either father teaches something that is false - cf. Irenei - the truth revealed by our Heavenly Father overrides their subordinate authority. And adding a mother, several hundred bishops, or even an apostle or angel into the mix doesn't change anything (Galatians 1:8). God may delegate authoritative roles, but insofar as any authority (or, for that matter, subordinate) who speaks truth does so by themselves implicitly presupposing divine revelation, God is the "final authority." We can know His word just is truth. For that reason, it is epistemically foundational and our authoritative norming norm.

However, if one typically "follows" what one "judges" to be true (description), how can we ensure our judgments align with our obligations (prescription)? This dovetails with a few other comments Hays offered in his original response to Robinson:

vi) I disagree with how Perry frames the issue. It's not in the first instance a question of authority but truth and evidence. We have a duty to believe revealed truth, and the evidence for some interpretations is better than others.

vii) Apropos (vi), it's meaningless to say, in the abstract, that an individual has more authority than the church or vice versa. Those are empty generalities. They can't be true or false because it depends on the specifics. Sometimes individuals are right while collectives are wrong. Sometimes collectives are right while individuals are wrong. There's no fact-free principle that's true in general. Rather, it depends on specific claims and supporting evidence. 

In most cases, I agree with Hays, and if Robinson thought Hays' position was worth mentioning, one would think he might have responded to points such as these. 

One added caveat to Hay's remarks: when it comes to foundational knowledge - where one's knowledge and obligations begin - I think Robinson's own tutor, Russ Manion, says it well: "God’s revelation is self-authenticating, because, by it, everything else is authenticated" (link). 

From what I've read of him, I quite like Manion - he seems to have derived much of his apologetic from the likes of Gordon Clark, Cornelius Van Til, and Greg Bahnsen. There are obvious disagreements I would have, but I've said before that Eastern Orthodox apologists should read him more closely (link), for as I've also said before, many Eastern Orthodox apologists appear to favor a species of sola revelation (link). Manion ironically confirms this in the most Protestant of terms. He may have even conceded this point - he appears to have been a genuine fellow.

Does Eastern Orthodoxy entail what Manion suggests? Well, on Eastern Orthodoxy, what could have been considered as one's "normative authority" between the time of the apostles and the first Council of Nicaea? Given that bishops can be wrong and sometimes were wrong, might it not be that God's revelation as propositional truth - regardless of whether the mode by which said truth was communicated was oral or written (link) - must be regarded as one's ultimate rule of faith? Everything else - councils and all - are to be measured by it, no? The only question is whether Scripture is materially and formally sufficient for knowledge; many Eastern Orthodox apologists seem to agree with the former, and their view seems to entail the latter. This would be rather Clarkian!

Regarding what "knowledge" itself means seems to be an open question amongst Eastern Orthodox apologists. Robinson himself disclaims "absolute certitude" (link) which, of course, begs the question as to how Protestantism is disadvantaged if Robinson could be wrong about that which he considers normatively authoritative. 

On the other hand, an Eastern Orthodox apologist like Jay Dyer believes Christians were able to have certitude about the faith prior to Nicaea (see the 1 hour mark here). Dyer argues that this refutes the Roman Catholic magisterium as a necessary, "epistemic principle" - well, it also undercuts any analogous suggestion that might be made regarding conciliarism (pentarchical, receptionist, etc.). After all, how else did the participants in the various councils come to their theological conclusions about Trinitarianism, Christology, etc.?

For my part, I think our knowledge of all authority - final and delegated - comes from divine revelation. Of course, we don't need to have a philosophically strict "knowledge" of who our authorities are for them to be authorities. I have authority over my newborn son without him having philosophically strict knowledge of anything, although my status as authority is knowable in principle. But I do think a philosophically strict "knowledge" is possible, as I've argued in dozens of other posts.

So if and when my son grows to the point where he is able to point towards a higher authority as a corrective to some erroneous instruction I give him, he won't be obliged to or bound by that instruction. Just so with any delegated authority. As Hays says, "It's enough to be right. You don't need a right to be right." Thus, if I teach error, my son is not obliged or bound by my instruction regardless of his epistemic status.

Does this "right" to refuse to obey delegated authorities in certain situations imply delegated authority is unreal or useless? No. Daniel was really thrown into a lion's den, and powers possessed by delegated authorities often functions to deter reckless behavior. It's just that Daniel was righteous, not reckless. Robinson seems to be aware that Presbyterians such as myself take membership vows. For instance, I myself have vowed the following:

Do you promise to participate faithfully in this church’s worship and service, to submit in the Lord to its government, and to heed its discipline, even in case you should be found delinquent in doctrine or life? (link)

In taking this vow, I joined myself to a body which has the authority to excommunicate me from it. Aside from his view of my church, would Robinson think I take that lightly? 

In short, Robinson's definition of "private judgment" seems to cloud his thinking. He defines it as follows: "Any Christian individual is ultimately obligated to adhere to belief X, if and only if they judge (determine, assess, etc.) that belief X is scriptural." But wasn't Palamas excommunicated by a Synod in 1344 for what he thought was scriptural? Would Robinson describe Palamas as exercising private judgment or right judgment in that case? 

While our epistemic status does not determine that which is authoritative, I don't see the relevance in this statement given that one's epistemic scruples are what will determine that which one regards as authoritative. Put it this way: it is just as easy for a Protestant apologist to posit that they are in an advantageous position with respect to a point of metaphysics (e.g. about what is "normatively authoritative") over against Eastern Orthodoxy as it is for an Eastern Orthodox apologist to posit the same thing in reverse. Without argumentation - which is epistemic and/or apologetic - there will be no reason (by definition!) for either side to budge. In their discussions, Hays was "right" to reject Robinson's definition, to shift focus to the proper sphere, and to hold Robinson accountable for the implications of his metaphysical claims.

Robinson himself admits he could apostatize from Eastern Orthodoxy. He could come to accept the Westminster Confession 31.3. Does Robinson think, then, that his possession of this power entails that he uses private judgment in his rejection of the Westminster Confession or in his acceptance of the ecumenical councils as scriptural? Is Robinson the "final authority" in his own situation? Surely not, but just so for Protestants who, say, reject unbiblical statements in conciliar documents.

One can read here or here for more on sola scriptura, including the following observation:

Sola scriptura is a metaphysical statement of what Scripture is - the extant extent of divine revelation and, thus, our solely ultimate, authoritative rule of faith - not an epistemological statement of how we know what Scripture is. Certainly, what Scripture metaphysically is may and does inform how we can know what it is, but I equally certainly don’t have to answer the question of how I know what Scripture is by looking through Scripture for a table of contents.
This last sentence returns us to Manion and the question of the canon of Scripture. I wonder if Robinson departs from his tutor on the self-authenticity of divine revelation. Robinson derides the Protestant understanding as ahistorical, yet his own view (which he does not outline) would seem to beg serious questions. Let's take a concrete example. Canon 2 of the Council of Trullo reads:

It has also seemed good to this holy Council, that the eighty-five canons, received and ratified by the holy and blessed Fathers before us, and also handed down to us in the name of the holy and glorious Apostles should from this time forth remain firm and unshaken for the cure of souls and the healing of disorders. (link)

The eighty-five canons referred to can be found here, the last of which lists the New Testament canon as including the epistles of Clement and as excluding Revelation. Does Robinson accept this list as binding? 

But we saw earlier that the Council of Carthage in 419 is also accepted, and that canonical list differs from those in the eighty-fifth canon above. Who [authoritatively?] decides which list is right, and why? If I disagree with another Protestant, at least I don't hold that Protestant to be infallible. 

Does Robinson not regard this council as infallible after all? Or does he take this canon of Trullo and now that "push comes to shove," will he "throw it out the window"? Or does he bite the bullet and accept the contradiction?

Further, is it not viewed as an issue that the Moscow patriarchate accepts a canon of Scripture that differs from other patriarchates? 

If one's normative authorities have different understandings of that which is binding - no matter how small the difference - then it is hard for me to take serious any claim about the superiority of Eastern Orthodoxy's concept or practice of normative authority. As an apologetic tack, it's a paper argument empty and devoid of real teeth.

A Hodge-Podge of Reasonings on Original Sin

For a recent exchange on original sin with Presbyterian Reverend Matthew Winzer, see the threads here and here in which I more broadly defended Augustinian-Reformed position on original sin against Charles Hodge's understanding and, more narrowly, defended the realist view. 

A point of appreciation I had was Winzer's willingness to own that his view is nominalistic. Of course, his pushback against certain arguments I made was expected. But while his explicit advocacy of nominalism was honest, his claim that Protestantism logically entails it is for that reason all the more dangerous. Unwitting third party readers may be attracted by Winzer's boldness and position, not realizing the high stakes involved in affirming nominalism. Robert Landis gives a sampling of these stakes in The Doctrine of Original Sin, a nigh-comprehensive refutation of Charles Hodge's implicit nominalism vis-a-vis his doctrine of original sin:

...let the serious-minded reader propound to himself, and frankly answer according to the spontaneous convictions of his moral nature and the impressions derived from the teachings of the divine word, the question, whether it can conceivably consist with the moral perfections of God, as revealed in His word and works, that He, on any ground whatever and by a mere act of the will, should constitute an innocent dependent creature depraved, apostate, and criminal, and then treat him or proceed against him as such? May He, in the case of creatures in whom sin or depravity does not exist, proceed, by a mere sovereign act of His will, first to produce it within them, and then to punish them for it according to the fearful inflictions of His punitive justice? In other words, Is it the prerogative of divine justice to pronounce sentence according to actually existing desert, e.g., in the case of apostasy or criminality of any sort; or are we to regard it as possessing the prerogative first to produce effectively that apostasy or ill-desert, and then to visit with its fearful retributions those who have thus been rendered subject to the infliction? If the latter, (and the latter is what Dr. Hodge teaches as our theology,) then the conception of divine justice in its relation to the creature, and as entertained by all rational or accountable beings, must certainly undergo an essential and radical modification, and along therewith the whole science of ethics and theology.

These questions are related to what I've called "absolute divine voluntarism" just as much as nominalism. Nominalism suggests that something is "true" in name only - i.e. without any correspondence to or grounding in (or of) a subject in question. In this context, is it truthful to impute sin to infants who have not in any sense sinned? 

Absolute divine voluntarism suggests that that which is said to be "good" or "just" is in virtue of God's absolutely free will only - i.e. a will that analogously has no correspondence to or grounding in, say, God's own necessary and intrinsic character, nature or attributes. In this context: is it good and just to impute sin to infants who have not in any sense sinned? 

The point is that these questions are of no small importance; in fact, Winzer would likely agree with that (if not Landis' and my acute framing of it). Now, I've elsewhere argued against absolute divine voluntarism here and for a defense of the realist view against nominalism here (see also the entire website in general). And those interested in my defense of the truthfulness, goodness, and justice of God's judgments can read the above links to the threads for the debate between Winzer and I, the end of which had reached a point of diminishing returns such that I did not expect any further reason to engage. 

The arguments are so sufficiently clear that were it not for an interested reader who asked me some questions at the end of the second thread linked above (posts 31-32), I would have not thought an extended reflection worthwhile. The understanding and statements on the matter such as one may find in Landis, Samuel Baird, John Murray, George P. Hutchinson, and amongst contemporary scholars like J. V. Fesko and C. N. Willborne are uncontroversial and, I think, unrefuted, despite the impression one might get when reading Winzer. But as men like John Murray are no longer with us to defend themselves against Winzer's false portrayals, perhaps the following will in some manner help to set the record straight regarding the broader, Augustinian-Reformed position which I refer to above.

At the outset, it will be helpful to outline what is at issue. The theologians I mentioned just above (and others) contend Hodge's following statements are out of step with the Reformed tradition. In his discussion of the meaning of sin, Hodge writes the following in Volume II of his Systematic Theology

Sin includes guilt and pollution; the one expresses its relation to the justice, the other to the holiness of God. These two elements of sin are revealed in the conscience of every sinner. He knows himself to be amenable to the justice of God and offensive in his holy eyes. He is to himself even, hateful and degraded and self-condemned. There are, however, two things included in guilt. The one we express by the words criminality, demerit, and blameworthiness; the other is the obligation to suffer the punishment due to our offences. These are evidently distinct, although expressed by the same word. The guilt of our sins is said to have been laid upon Christ, that is, the obligation to satisfy the demands of justice on account of them. But He did not assume the criminality, the demerit, or blameworthiness of our transgressions. When the believer is justified, his guilt, but not his demerit, is removed. He remains in fact, and in his own eyes, the same unworthy, hell-deserving creature, in himself considered, that he was before. A man condemned at a human tribunal for any offence against the community, when he has endured the penalty which the law prescribes, is no less unworthy, his demerit as much exists as it did from the beginning; but his liability to justice or obligation to the penalty of the law, in other words, his guilt in that sense of the word, is removed. It would be unjust to punish him a second time for that offence. This distinction theologians are accustomed to express by the terms reatus culpæ and reatus pœnæCulpa is (strafwürdiger Zustand) blameworthiness; and reatus culpæ is guilt in the form of inherent ill-desert. Whereas the reatus pœnæ is the debt we owe to justice...
A few pages later, in discussing the immediate imputation of original sin, Hodge says:
2. To impute sin, in Scriptural and theological language, is to impute the guilt of sin. And by guilt is meant not criminality or moral ill-desert, or demerit, much less moral pollution, but the judicial obligation to satisfy justice. Hence the evil consequent on the imputation is not an arbitrary infliction; not merely a misfortune or calamity; not a chastisement in the proper sense of that word, but a punishment, i.e., an evil inflicted in execution of the penalty of law and for the satisfaction of justice. 
Note carefully what has been said. In the first section, Hodge says:

"Culpa is... blameworthiness..." 
"...reatus culpæ is guilt in the form of inherent ill-desert."
Other synonyms he uses to describe culpa include "criminality, demerit, and blameworthiness."

In the second section, Hodge says:

"To impute sin... is to impute the guilt of sin. And by guilt is meant not criminality or moral ill-desert, or demerit."

In other words, Hodge has rejected that the imputation of the guilt of Adam's sin involved the imputation of "criminality, or moral ill-desert, or demerit." That is, Hodge has "distinguished" reatus culpæ and reatus pœnæ in such a way that Hodge thinks that reatus pœnæ can be (and is) imputed without reatus culpæ; obligation to punishment can be (and is) imputed without criminality. On his own terms, Hodge rejects the imputation of [reatus] culpa.
 
The importance of this point will come into focus below when I turn to Winzer's own assertions. In terms of initial problems with Hodge's remarks, though, one need only read the citations I (and, ironically, Winzer himself!) provided in our discussion. I will just add Turretin as one Reformed witness who rejects Hodge's separation of reatus culpæ from reatus pœnæ (link).
Falsely, however, is guilt distinguished by the papists into guilt of culpability and of punishment. The guilt of culpability (reatus culpae) according to them is that by which the sinner is of himself unworthy of the grace of God and worthy of his wrath and condemnation; but the guilt of punishment (reatus poenae) is that by which he is subject to condemnation and obliged to it. The former guilt, they say, is taken away by Christ. The latter, however, can remain (at least as to the guilt of temporal punishment). But the emptiness of the distinction appears from the nature of both. Since culpability and punishment are related and guilt is nothing else than the obligation to punishment arising from culpability, they mutually posit and remove each other so that culpability and its guilt being removed, the punishment itself ought to be taken away necessarily (as it can be inflicted only on account of culpability). Otherwise culpability cannot be said to be remitted or its guilt taken away, if there still remains something to be purged from the sinner because of it.
"Guilt is nothing else than the obligation to punishment arising from culpability." How different this is to Hodge! And as Turretin associates this with Roman Catholicism, it is no wonder that, as George P. Hutchinson puts it, Landis charged "that Hodge's doctrine is essentially the same as that of the Remonstrants and the Socinians, as well as that of the Nominalists in the Roman Church" (The Problem of Original Sin in American Presbyterianism, pg. 74). 

For good measure, the Reformed tradition drew on the thought of Augustine in their affirmation of the culpa(m) of Adam's progeny. In Against Julian, written against a disciple of Pelagius, Augustine affirms that the punishment infants experience due to original sin entails their culpability in said sin:
I ask you by what justice must an image of God that has in no way transgressed the law of the God be estranged from the kingdom of God, from the life of God? Do you not hear how the Apostle detests certain men, who, he says, are 'estranged from the life of God through the ignorance that is in them, because of the blindness of their heart'? Is a non-baptized infant bound by this sentence or not? If you say he is not bound, they you will be vanquished and punished by the evangelical truth and by the testimony of Pelagius himself, for where is the life of God except in the kingdom of God, into which none but those born again of water and the Spirit can enter? But, if you assert that he is bound, you acknowledge the punishment. Then you must acknowledge the guilt (culpam). You confess the torment—confess, then, that it is deserved.
Further citations of Reformed theologians by Landis, Samuel Baird, W. G. T. Shedd, R. L. Dabney, et al. constitute a veritable cloud of witnesses regarding the consensus that, contrary to Hodge, the imputation of the guilt (reatus) of Adam's sin inseparably and singularly involves punishment (pœnæ) by reason of culpability (culpa). Shedd in particular notes that Calvin writes in the Latin edition of The Institutes, Book II.i.8 (link), "no esset reatus absque culpa." This consensus is reaffirmed by contemporary scholars I've already alluded to. In my conversation with Winzer, I cited J. V. Fesko as writing (in Death in Adam, Life in Christ):
Hodge believed that when God imputed Adam’s sin to humanity, He only imputed the penalty, not Adam’s guilt or moral corruption. Hodge explains: ‘To impute sin, in Scriptural and theological language, is to impute the guilt of sin. And by guilt is meant not criminality or moral ill-desert, or demerit, much less moral pollution, but the judicial obligation to satisfy justice.’ In technical terms, Hodge maintains that Adam’s imputed sin is not his guilt (reatus culpae), nor the demeritum (demerit), but the penalty (reatus poenae). Hodge’s opinion diverges from the majority report within the tradition; namely, theologians argued that God imputed both guilt (reatus culpae) and penalty (reatus poenae)... Hodge argued that God imputed Adam’s sin to his offspring, which only entailed the liability to penalty (reatus poenae), not Adam’s guilt (reatus culpae).

As I said, Winzer is aware of this statement. I also made him aware of the conclusion to C. N. Willborne's contribution to a chapter on Hodge's view of original sin published last year within a larger volume about Hodge (Charles Hodge: American Reformed Orthodox Theologian). Winzer has read the second paragraph in what follows (pgs. 207, 228):

Guilt for Hodge does not include the demerit of Adam’s first sin, which Turretin seem to have taught. So, Crisp piggy backs on John Murray by suggesting that Hodge “dropped the culpa aspect of original guilt, retaining only the reatus, derived solely from possession of original sin itself.” This made the cause of liability to punishment resulting from original sin more ambiguous and undefined in Hodge’s writings than in earlier Reformed orthodox theology, constituting an element of discontinuity...
Was Hodge accurate when he averred that he had introduced no new ideas nor attempted to improve upon the tradition? In charity we think he honestly thought so. Is there reason to doubt that he maintained a position consistent with “old Calvinists” on the issue of federalism and transmission of Adam’s sin? There is, we think, good reason to doubt his consistency. Did he overreach in claiming a number of post-Reformation representatives in support of his views? We have shown good reason to say so. And, finally, was Muller’s supposition accurate that Hodge made no formal or virtually no dogmatic alterations to Reformed Orthodoxy? That little word “virtually” may be the saving virtue in the statement. Yet, Hodge did alter Reformed ideas at points.

Straightforwardly, Hodge's statements in his Systematic Theology reject that the so-called "guilt" (for what is guilt without culpability?) of Adam's sin which is imputed to his progeny involves their culpability, criminality, etc. This is how all scholars of whom I am aware have interpreted Hodge. 

Frankly, it shocks me Winzer has ignored rather than paused to consider and respectfully engage the work of these men. I've also repeatedly asked Winzer to offer a scholar who thinks otherwise. Until he does, it is the obvious course to follow the evidence above to its natural conclusion: in the context of original sin, Hodge rejected the imputation of reatus culpa; therefore, Hodge divides reatus culpa from reatus poenae.

So much for the setting of the stage. Now, one question I have been asked is whether there may be a misunderstanding between Winzer and I. I rather think that the misunderstanding is between he and John Murray, the author of The Imputation of Adam's Sin, as I'll return to momentarily

I had cited John Murray as an example of someone whose work on original sin is well-respected - a theologian who disagrees with my own realist view yet also affirms that Charles Hodge's doctrine of original sin was a departure from the majority of the Reformed tradition. I've written about this before, actually, and Winzer was even aware of this post prior to his making the second thread linked at the beginning of this post. So there should have been no cause for misunderstanding.

Here was a question I asked Winzer in my first reply to the second thread: 

What do you think of Murray's remark that for "Reformed theologians of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries... there can be no poena or, for that matter, reatus poena apart from culpa" (pgs. 79-80)? Then on page 81, he summarizes a statement by Calvin to mean that "...this is to say that there is no liability to penalty without blameworthiness." And so forth for several more pages. Are you willing to concede that Hodge's statements diverged from the Reformed tradition?

Winzer responded:

Murray has failed to parse the issue. The divines are not saying these are two different things that are imputedThey are saying, in the matter of imputation, that they are the same thing, that is, that guilt only pertains to liability to punishment.

At this point, I was and truly remain baffled for the following reasons:

1) Winzer is correct that "The divines are not saying these are two different things that are imputed."

2) Murray affirms this, as will be shown below.

3) Hodge denies this, as was shown above.

Naturally, I attempted to correct Winzer's error. Twice. I cited scholars, noted that his own examples contradict his position - all of which was ignored. In response to my attempts, Winzer tripled-down:

The state of the question is, whether these are divided in the act of imputation. Hodge denies; Murray affirms.

Once again, there should be no misunderstanding between Winzer and I. Now, if I had to venture a guess, here is where I think Winzer goes awry: recall his above assertion that regarding reatus culpa and reatus poenae, "in the matter of imputation, that they are the same thing, that is, that guilt only pertains to liability to punishment." 

It is difficult to understand the meaning of this in a way which avoids collapsing reatus culpa into reatus poenae such that culpa retains any distinctive meaning from poenae. That is, Winzer seems to entirely eliminate the any trace of the meaning of former from the context of original sin such that the entire matter of imputation is resolved in the latter. Culpa just is poenae, culpability just is punishment. If I have not put my finger on the matter, the alternative is that Winzer is simply incorrect that Hodge affirms reatus culpa and that Murray denies it. 

But if indeed I am right in understanding what Winzer thinks, even if he were right, it would still be impossible to defend Hodge insofar as Hodge completely divides the two. Hodge says that reatus culpa and reatus poenae "are evidently distinct." Hodge does not deny a conceptual or even imputable distinction here; thus, when he rejects that criminality (culpability) is imputed in the context original sin, he has, contrary to Winzer, "evidently" divided the two. 

Further, assuming I am correct that Winzer has collapsed reatus culpa into reatus poenae such that the former conceptually disappears, then as was noted already, Winzer's understanding is refuted by Turretin: "guilt is nothing else than the obligation to punishment arising from culpability." In short, it is true that there are not two different "things" imputed. But the point is that that which is imputed involves culpability and that this is at least conceptually distinct from the punishment which arises from it. 

For another example, since the person who asked me some questions at the end of my discussion with Winzer mentioned John Owen, here is Murray's conclusion following his citation of Owen, a theologian "to whom... Hodge made appeal" (link):

‘‘Much less is there any thing of weight in the distinction of ‘reatus culpae’ and ‘reatus poenae;’ for this ‘reatus culpae’ is nothing but ‘dignitas poenae propter culpam’ .... So, therefore, there can be no punishment, nor ‘reatus poenae,’ the guilt of it, but where there is ‘reatus culpae,’ or sin considered with its guilt...”5 This latter quotation conveniently introduces us to what may well be considered as the consensus of Reformed theologians of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.

See here for the entire context of Owen's own comments, which will sustain Murray's rebuttal of Hodge. 

With this in mind, it is Winzer who fails to parse Murray rather than vice versa. See pages 36-37 of The Imputation of Adam's Sin, Murray writes:

In presenting and defending the representative view it is necessary to relieve it of some misrepresentation on the part of opponents and of certain extravagances on the part of proponents. With reference to the latter, as will be shown later in this series of studies, the representative view is not bound up with the assumption that posterity is involved only in the poena of Adam’s sin and not in the culpa. It is not to be supposed that only realism can hold to the imputation of the culpa of Adam’s transgression. Furthermore, the representative view is not to be loaded with the distinction between reatus culpae and reatus poenae which the older Reformed theologians rejected and which they characterized and criticized as papistical.
Note the part in italics in which Murray affirms the very thing for "representationalists" - in whose company Murray numbered himself - that Hodge denies: the imputation of the culpa.

More importantly, note the part underlined in which Murray agrees that there are not two "things" imputed. Murray affirms that culpa and poenae are inseparable, the very thing which Hodge denies! Winzer has gotten the matter entirely backwards. You can't make this stuff up. Murray also repeats this sentiment on page 80:

...of more importance for the subject in hand is the way in which Reformed theologians conceived of the relations of culpa, reatus, and poena and, most particularly, their insistence that there can be no poena or, for that matter, no reatus poenae apart from culpa.

What Winzer asserts in various places is that Murray is arguing is exactly opposite of what Murray argues. It would have behooved Winzer to simply read Murray's book (as well as the others I had mentioned). If this seems short, it is only because Winzer has been so quick to misrepresent Murray and so slow to acknowledge his error. 

Were it not for this misrepresentation, the situation would otherwise be rather amusing. In juxtaposition to the title of a post I linked to earlier, this one might have been appropriately named "Representationalist Misrepresentation of the Representationalist View on Original Sin"!

I take the above to be a fair outline of where and why I think Winzer has wrongly depicted Hodge, Murray, and "the divines." One can find similar issues in Winzer's exegesis of Hodge here.

Now, leaving Winzer aside, what motivated Hodge's deviation from the Reformed tradition? One possibility is that Hodge assumes that one can only be "culpable" for sin if that which is imputed is a sin he committed as a person. If so, this is not what the Reformers, following Augustine, thought. I mention this in particular because of a statement made by the person who wanted to ask me some questions. He wrote:

According to the common Reformed understanding of imputation, the progeny of Adam receive reatus poenae (liability to receive punishment) and reatus culpae (liability because of sin), but the cause (the sin, the culpae) belongs personally to Adam, whereas the poenae is given to Adam and his progeny, because both Adam and his progeny share in the liability (the reatus).

Adam is indeed the only person who "personally" sinned in the garden, but he is not the only person "culpable" for said sin. For Adam's progeny (Christ excepted) sinned in him. Realists and representationalists alike agree with this explanation for why infants are culpable for the sin imputed to them (contra Hodge). Their explanations as to the nature of the "participation" are different, of course, but this is the idea behind what is meant by the idea we "participated" in Adam's sin: we, his progeny who now exist as distinct persons from Adam, nevertheless [culpably and participatively] sinned in him.

Another point: Hodge's apparent reasoning - based on Hutchinson's book (which is still, I maintain, the fairest and best introduction to these issues) - is that Christ is not culpable for sin which He did not commit as a person. That is, Christ is not culpable [for our sin]. 

Yet, Hodge argues, our sin is "imputed" to Christ. In other words, Hodge is reading back how he thinks "imputation" works between the last Adam and those with whom He is united into how "imputation" works between the first Adam and those with whom he is united. If Christ is not culpable, neither are we. So goes the argument.

If so, though, it begs the question. As I argue in one of my responses to Winzer, the relationship between the two appears to be inverse, not parallel. Even if the following does not completely establish this thesis, it should be enough by way of response to Hodge's reasonings.

Grace - works
Life - death
Righteousness - sin
Into the last Adam - Out of the first Adam
Etc.

See here for my own take. Just as the concepts are opposite, so too with logical ordering (at least in some respects). For example, depravity of nature is indeed a punishment which is logically consequent to immediate imputation. Hodge is right about this.

But imagine if such were logically parallel in the case of soteriology! Regenerative change of nature would then be logically consequent to imputation of Christ's righteousness. That would mean we come to faith, are justified, and are then regenerated. But this is Arminianism - for how did we come to faith in the first place apart from regeneration? 

Ironically, Hodge's aim to defend the graciousness of the covenant of grace fails in proportion to his inability to contrast it to the covenant of works. One can find more on this in Hutchinson's book, as what I am saying has been noted by the likes of Landis and Dabney already.

Now, realists and representationalists quite agree that Christ is not culpable for sin which He did not commit as a person. That is, Christ is not culpable. But Hodge seems to miss is the point that another reason Christ is not culpable is that He was never "in" the first Adam and, thus, never [culpably and participatively] sinned in Adam (unlike the rest of Adam's progeny). And this links back to what I said earlier.

Another question I was asked pertains to a question I myself asked of Winzer: what sort of "justice" does not take into account criminality and so forth when judging? Here is the question I was asked in response:

Your question itself seems to be begging one. I think that the nominalist (?; I can't remember if this is the term used for non-realists) view is that God’s justice does take into account criminality, but particularly that of Adam, not only of the one being punished. EDIT: So I guess your question is actually, What sort of justice does not take into account personal criminality?
When I asked Winzer this question, I had already disputed his nominalism in the first thread-link mentioned at the beginning of this post. Thus, my question was a carry-over, not question-begging, insofar as I had already laid out problems with nominalism. To clarify my question: "What sort of justice ascribes a crime without taking into account whether the person to whom it is ascribed participated in criminality in any sense?" One cannot consistently affirm that God does not lie when He ascribes a crime to those who have not participated in it. This is destructive teaching. 

Additionally, to reframe my question as about "personal" criminality seems to ironically beg the question in favor of Hodge, as I discuss above.

To those who may read this post or the disagreement between myself and Winzer and come away with questions: that is a healthy response. It took time for me to reach conclusions with which I am relatively satisfied, and I don't pretend to have everything figured out. What helps is to have humility rather than hubris as one follows through on reading scholarly and primary sources, all of which will explain the fine distinctions and key matters better than I have and at more leisure than I have present time to extensively defend.

Saturday, June 1, 2024

Prolegomena to Textual Criticism

I've written elsewhere on how I situate "textual criticism" within the apologetic context of epistemic foundationalism (see the tags for this subject here). What follows will be a prolegomena of sorts to textual criticism.

Based on John 5 and other such passages, there is, I think, a Trinitarian parallel one can make between metaphysics, epistemology, and soteriology. For instance, we are saved in the Spirit through the Word sent from the Father, which Word is the very revelation of God (John 1, Hebrews 1, Romans 8, etc.). Just so, we are come to knowledge and are saved through [faith in the] words from the Father in the Spirit's breathing (Psalm 119, Matthew 11, 2 Timothy 3, etc.).

From, through, in. Keep those words in mind.

How might we tease this out? Divine revelation is indeed propositional. For example, the Scriptures cannot be broken (John 10), so if it were the case that the Scriptures are merely physical words, I could tear up its pages, silence the mouths of those who speak, etc. This propositional revelation is from the Father (as Christ is from the Father) insofar as it (and He) is revealed to those whom it pleases Him to learn its truth (John 6, Matthew 16).

That said, the mode through which this word is revealed is inscripturation. Likewise, the mode through which God's Son was sent as Savior was the incarnation. It is through the enfleshed w/Word that people are saved (Romans 10). We are not gnostics, after all.

Yet while the way through which we are caused to learn God's truth is via sensation, it is still the case that the objects of knowledge are propositional. Physical words may be means through which we are caused to understand revelation, but such representations always beckon us back to the archetypal propositions to which they correspond in a manner analogous to the way in which the Son beckons us back to the archetypal Father in whose image He is (Col 1).

Thus, in our Trinitarian formulations, the metaphysical beginning is the Father. So too in our revelatory formulations: the epistemological beginning is the propositions.

Now, the Word of God, Jesus Christ, was only made manifest in the Spirit. Likewise, the word of God, the Scriptures, are only made manifest in the Spirit. Christ's birth and baptism inaugurated his earthly life and ministry. Our rebirth and baptism in the Spirit inaugurates our salvific life (such that we become true words of the True Word; cf. link), and the Spirit's breath inaugurated the manifestation of the propositional word in His speech in the prophets and apostles (2 Peter 1, Ephesians 2; there is potential for drawing out themes in terms of progressive-revelation and [new] covenant[al life] here, but I will leave that aside for now).

Our encounter with the metaphysical Trinity is through Christ the Word. At the same time, this very Word testifies of His being sent from the Father from whom we must begin if we are to understand the Son and His Spirit-wrought purpose for us.

Moreover, our encounter with Christ is through the inscripturated word. And Christ's words - for Scripture itself is the word of the Word - testifies of the archetypal propositions from which we must begin if we are to understand the physical creation and its Spirit-wrought purpose for us.

Those who begin with the physical text already evidence a faulty set of presuppositions - not that there is anything wrong with the inscripturated word, mind you. But people won't understand it aright unless they understand from whence it comes.

Likewise, those who begin with, say, the "historical Jesus" already evidence a faulty set of presuppositions - not that there is anything wrong with the incarnate Word, mind you. But people won't understand Him aright unless they understand from Whom He comes.

Textual criticism, then, can serve an apologetic role insofar as it beckons us back to the propositional truth from and with which we must epistemologically begin in order for the defense to be intelligible. A defense of the [written] Scripture presupposes knowledge of the revealed Scripture. A proper defense presupposes a proper epistemic starting point such that the former will confirm the latter.

One final, somewhat tangential observation: I've listened to enough Eastern Orthodox apologists to be aware of the emphasis they place on the ordo theologiae and the Father as the "starting point" (link, link). How amusing is it, then, when said apologists promote circular justification (link)? Whether or not one agrees with their metaphysics, there is an internal critique to be made here.