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.

Lane Tipton on Gordon Clark and Cornelius Van Til

Recently, I wrote on the importance of history (link). An example of this stems from a dialogue on Lane Tipton's book, The Trinitarian Theology of Cornelius Van Til. I have since purchased the book, and below, I'll link to a video lecture by Tipton that covers much of the same content. Of initial interest to me was pg. 79 of Tipton's book:

...when we realize that Van Til speaks of God as "one person" in a manner synonymous with Bavinck's speaking of God as "absolute personality," we can discern that Van Til intends to add nothing beyond what Bavinck has already expressed. It is highly likely that Van Til uses such language to polemically sharpen his critique of Gordon Clark's conception of the divine unity as "mute substance." Clark's rationalistic notion of "mute substance" supplies part of the polemical context for Van Til's insistence that there is no impersonal dimension to God's unity as an absolute personality... (Tipton, The Trinitarian Theology of Cornelius Van Til, pg. 79)

Further, on pg. 85, Tipton writes:

...we fail to do justice to Van Til’s concerns if we do not factor in his theological disagreements with the theological rationalism of his day, particularly the rationalism of the neo-evangelical Gordon H. Clark. Van Til’s comments on the incomprehensibility of God, especially in An Introduction to Systematic Theology, arise immediately from the context of the Clark–Van Til controversy. As a result, Van Til’s understanding of the Trinity and divine incomprehensibility is designed partly to correct the rationalistic distortions he detected in the formulations of Clark. What will prove instructive for our discussion of Van Til’s doctrine of the Trinity is the appearance, years after the controversy itself, of a motif in Clark’s theology that denies personality to God’s unity. While definitively dissenting from the personalists, Clark devised formulations that amount to the opposite error of the Boston Personalists in that he can affirm tripersonality only by describing the essence of God as mute or unconscious. The personalists deny personality with respect to God’s diversity, while Clark denies personality with reference to God’s unity. 

It is out of this matrix of Trinitarian reflection that Van Til deemed it appropriate to utilize the language that God is “one person” or “absolute personality,” while not allowing that affirmation to subvert the complementary truth that God exists as three persons or a tripersonal being. In Van Til’s mind, the formulations of both the Boston Personalists and Gordon Clark proved inadequate to convey the absolutely personal and incomprehensible character of God’s Trinitarian existence.

This has led other people to follow Tipton's conclusions. For example, Christopher Smith reviews of Tipton's book by stating (link):

This absolute personality means, contra Gordon Clark (1902–85), that self-consciousness can be found in the Triune God even while there is a self-differentiated existence as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, thus guarding against the tritheistic notion of three centers of self-consciousness. Van Til was reacting to Clark’s notion that in God there are three “distinct bundles of thoughts,” i.e. self-consciousness. Van Til’s opponents were broader than merely Gordon Clark, however. Indeed, his primary opponent was a school of thought Tipton identifies as “theistic personalism,” and Van Til’s thought was, in large part, a reaction to these views.

So, how accurate is Tipton's assessment of Clark's influence on Van Til? Despite other areas in which I enjoy Tipton's work, my answer will be: not at all. 

For starters, Van Til's language of "absolute personality" is found in works as early as his An Introduction to Systematic Theology. In the 1971 preface to this book, Van Til writes:

The first ‘‘edition’’ of this syllabus appeared some thirty-five years ago. Its title then was: An Introduction to Systematic Theology. Since then much has happened in theology. Yet the old syllabus is now made available again in a practically unaltered form. The author has dealt with the main developments of recent theology in other writings.

That means Van Til's syllabus was originally made available in 1936. Access to this original would aid in answering which topics were impacted by later theological developments and which topics were "practically unaltered" (although having such access will turn out to be unnecessary to answer whether Tipton's analysis is accurate). 

For example, Clark's work in the 1940s is referenced in the 1971 edition; specifically, Clark's "The Primacy of the Intellect," "The Answer," and "A Christian Philosophy of Education"). Obviously, these works would not have been discussed in the original 1936 syllabus. If the language that God is "one person" or absolute personality" appeared in the original, such would seem to antedate any mention of Clark. 

Also, are there even any contexts in the 1971 edition in which Clark merits so much as a mention while Van Til uses the language that God is "one person" or "absolute personality"? No - one can read Van Til's book himself to verify that this is the case.

Further, Clark's rhetorical question of whether a person is "to be considered unconscious, mute substance?" comes from The Trinity (1985), 3 months prior to his death. The most thorough bibliography on Van Til (of which I am aware) states that his last published article came at the age of 87. How is it possible that Tipton thinks Van Til critiqued a 1985 statement by Clark if Van Til's last published work was in 1982? I could very well end this post with the simple observation that it is impossible for Van Til to have been reacting to a thought by Clark in 1985.

[To be more precise, while Clark's The Trinity was originally published in 1985, Clark had finished the manuscript as early as 1977 as part of a larger project: a systematic theology (link). Because The Trinity was not published until 1985, however, I will continue to refer to that as the earliest date Van Til might have read Clark use the phrase "mute substance" unless evidence is shown to the contrary.]

There are more points to be made, so I'll come back to Clark's actual remarks found in The Trinity later. Let's turn to Tipton's book. If we set aside Tipton's tangent on paradox, human freedom, and divine sovereignty (pgs. 96-98), the only reference Tipton makes to any of Clark's works is The Trinity. Thus, it doesn't appear that Tipton has in mind any other statements by Clark that were made during the 1920s-1970s that might have impacted Van Til's language in question. 

I have already intimated that Clark's works in the 1940s do not appear to relevantly bear on Van Til's language that God is "one person" or "absolute personality," at least so can as I can discern from the 1971 edition of Van Til's Introduction to Systematic Theology itself. On the contrary, take the following statement by Clark written before 1936:

1935. Revised edition of Readings in Ethics. Gordon H. Clark and T.V. Smith, eds. New York: F.S. Crofts and Company. 

But one must learn that when a philosopher says God, he may not mean God. Both Jew and Christian regard God as an Almighty Personal Being who chose to create the world. Two Christians, Descartes and Leibniz, may have disagreed on the question whether God made this world good by choosing it, or whether God chose this world because it was good. But all agree He chose and created. But for Spinoza, on the contrary, there was neither choice nor creation, for his God is not a personal being.

Additionally, consider other statements Clark made in the 1940s:

1949. Authority in Religion. The Witness Jul: 5-6.

The Christian as well as the modernist believes that God has revealed himself in nature. But if this is the only revelation, if this is the most definite revelation there is, men soon begin to see in the marvels of nature, nature and only nature. A real, living, personal God recedes into the dim, unnecessary background.

Pre 1950. Language is Beautiful - and Deceitful. The Home Evangel

The other day a Jewish community house, to raise funds for their unfortunate brothers, invited a philosopher to give a lecture. The philosopher was a Christian, in the original, orthodox, Biblical sense of the word. He chose to speak on the reality of a personal God, and tried to show that only by trusting a personal God could man face the world and solve its problems. A gentleman in the audience said that he did not believe all the stuff this philosopher propounded. “I don’t believe in any personal God,” he insisted, “I am a Unitarian.” 

And so it seems that “Unitarian” has come to mean “atheist.” And “Christian” has come to mean one who denies the Bible and rejects the blood atonement of Christ. All this leads a thoughtful person to believe the more in the inherent depravity of man, out of which comes the modem depravity of words. Respectable authors must long for a regeneration of language; but this can only occur by a regeneration of the human heart that is at enmity with God.

Now, I really did try to do some legwork on Tipton's behalf. I had to scour my notes to find anything by Clark that Tipton could have remotely included in the alleged "matrix" of reflection out of which Van Til opted to use the language of "one person" or "absolute personality." The closest I could find was a letter from Clark to J. Oliver Buswell on April 3, 1937, to which Van Til probably did not have access and which I doubt is the sort of thing Tipton had in mind anyways (since Clark is just attempting to summarize Shedd):

Question: Is the being of the second Person of the Trinity derived from the Father according to Vos?

Answer: I doubt it. On p. 216 of The Self Disclosure, Vos says that the glory of the Son comes from the Father, and on pg. 221 Vos says that Jn. 5:26 and 6:57 teach that the Son's life is derived from the Father. He further seems to accept the doctrine of eternal generation.

The question therefore becomes, what historically is the doctrine of eternal generation, and what does the word 'being' mean?

Hodge, Vol I. on the eternal generation quotes Turretin as opposing the eternal generation of the essence of Christ and as therefore opposing the Nicene fathers. Having read Hodge hurriedly I may be mistaken on the 'therefore' in the last sentence, for I do not think the Nicene father taught what Turretin attacks.

Shaff, Creed of Christendom, Vol I, p. 37, says that the Athanasian creed excludes every kind of subordination of essence. It states clearly that absolute unity of the divine being or essence.

Shedd, History of Christian Doctrine, Vol. I p.316, speaks of the essence as that which is one, the personality three. Thus persons may be generated but not the essence. Shedd also, p. 317, remarks that the eternal generation is necessary but creation depends entirely upon arbitrary will. Apparently this denial ofthe generation of essence is compatible with the expression: the Father communicates the one eternal essence to the Son. By 'communicate' I guess is meant Platonic participation (though there is something queer here) and raises the question whether Gregory of Nyssa was correct in saying that the relation of persons to the Godhead was the same as that of individuals to their Idea.

The generation therefore is of a Person by a Person. As Calvin I xiii 19 says: “we justly represent him as originating from the Father.”

Shedd, op. cit. p. 323: “Hence the Nicene theologians harmonized the doctrine of eternal generation with that of unity of essence by teaching the necessity of this generation.”

CONCLUSION. Since the Nicene fathers maintained eternal generation in their repudiation of Arianism, it seems to me first that there is no ground for saying that Vos implies the generation of essence, being, reality (ousia); and second that the doctrine instead of being dangerous is an excellent method of defending trinitarianism against Arianism.

May I also add that Vos may not have the “unified perspective” of Machen and Warfield because he approaches his problems exegetically rather than systematically.

It is also difficult for me to imagine that Van Til himself would have nitpicked Shedd. That in mind, here is the full context of Clark's rhetorical question cited by Tipton. From pgs. 129-130 in The Trinity (2010 edition):

Several romantically inclined students, and a few professors as well, have complained that “this makes your wife merely a set of propositions.” Well, so it does. This suits me, for I am a set of propositions too. And those who complain are as they think. Is a person to be considered unconscious, mute substance? Why is he not conscious thoughts? Of course, one may just say “thoughts,” for thoughts cannot be unconscious.

Naturally, human beings are mutable: Their thoughts or minds change. The three Persons of the Godhead are immutable because their thoughts never change. They never forget what they now know, they never learn something new, in fact they have never learned anything. Their thought is eternal. Since also the three Persons do not have precisely the same set of thoughts, they are not one Person, but three. If substance were the principle of individuation – for we have seen that space-time cannot be – then there could not be three Persons. Identity of substance would mean identity of person. If then substance, for this and other reasons, is not the principle of individuation, the theologians referred to should explain what their principle is.

One may disagree with Clark's metaphysical reductionism of persons to sets of propositions (as I do and have argued against). A few points, though:

1. The immediate context of the quote is in reference to human persons and substances, not divine. 

2. The point of the bold is obviously meant by Clark to be a denial that persons are unconscious, mute substances... but one would think Tipton and Van Til would agree with this? If so, then what is the issue? Is Tipton inferring something more, e.g. that Clark thinks all substances are unconscious and mute? If so, his inference is by no means obvious to me, and I think he would need to give more evidence of this.

3. In fact, this inference would be false. In the same book on The Trinity, Clark says (pg. 67):

In VII, ii, 3 Augustine makes substance and essence synonyms, and in VII, iv, 7 he twice, and maybe a third time, includes nature. This may help some readers to escape from Aristotelian matter and Locke’s two substances, but the term essence today is also vague. If, however, these terms were replaced by the word definition, several difficulties could be avoided. The definition of the Triune God is not the definition of the Son.

Obviously, Clark thinks the Son is a person who is neither mute nor unconscious. If the Son is a definition (= substance), then even in 1985, Clark thought that there is at least one "substance" that is neither mute nor unconscious. Of course, there are numerous problems with this construction, but the point is that Tipton seems to be reading into Clark's rhetorical question things that are not entailed. 

For those who don't have access to Tipton's book, Tipton's lecture on Gordon Clark: Theological Rationalism and Trinitarianism support what I have argued: that Tipton inaccurately interprets a rhetorical question by Clark from 1985 and anachronistically refers to it as part of the polemical context out of which Van Til's distinctive Trinitarian theology was formed. For example, between minutes 21-25, Tipton says:

To clarify a bit the relationship of the hypotheses to the essence of God - the relationship of the persons to the essence - what distinguishes the persons from the godhead or the essence is self-consciousness. Mute substance is not what characterizes the persons - that is collections of thought collections of thoughts. Personhood is not what characterizes the substance - it's unconscious and mute.

And so look at what you start to find in the polemical context that Van Til faced: whether it's the personalists at the early turn of the 20th century moving into the 20s and 30s or whether it's the developing neo-evangelical trinitarianism of Gordon Clark in the 30s, 40s, and into the 50s, what do you find?

You find an affirmation of unipersonality that calls into question the integrity and personality of the individual hypotheses in personalism, or you find an affirmation of personhood as bundles of thoughts - a novelty in the history of the reformed tradition, but that's how personhood is defined - but in a way that makes the essence of God unconscious, mute substance. 

And so there's an affirmation of one Consciousness (a denial of three Consciousness) in the personalists there's an affirmation of three Consciousness and a denial of one Consciousness in the neo-evangelical rationalists...

Did Bavinck confirm absolute personality as an entailment of numerical unity and divine simplicity? Yes. Did Hodge affirm that there is one will, one mind, one consciousness in a way that peacefully and sweetly complies in mystery with tri-personality? Yes. Did Van Til follow both? Yes.

But according to Clark, personality requires only those things not common to the three and he draws the implication from that that the essence of God is unconscious, mute substance that is antithetically related to personality. See, a necessary condition for Clark for the possibility of personality is the presence of propositions not common to the three. So what Clark lacks is a theological principle that can account for the absolute personality of God. 

I see no evidence that Clark said anything in "the 30s, 40s, and into the 50s" which could be labeled "neo-evangelical trinitarianism," and I have already quoted several statements by Clark during this time period which cut against it. A 1985 quote which may not even be correctly interpreted is insufficient evidence for the idea that Van Til owed his distinctive Trinitarian language or views to anything Clark wrote. 

Conclusion: my theory is that Tipton is unaware of Clark's gradual, metaphysical synthesis I have posited elsewhere (link). This is understandable in the absence of an historical chronology such as that which I have been putting together. Tipton might assume Clark's earlier Trinitarian views were more or less consistent with what Clark expressed in 1985. But this is an assumption which cannot be maintained. History matters (with this, Tipton would surely agree).

[Parenthetically, if I were pressed to pinpoint when Clark's understanding of "persons" changed, I would suggest Reason, Religion, and Revelation (1961, "Trust in a person is a knowledge of a person; it is a matter of assenting to certain propositions") illustrates an outworking of Clark's rejection of the correspondence theory of truth. 

By the time of The Philosophy of Gordon H. Clark (1968), it is explicit ("persons are propositions"). Interestingly, Clark's definition of persons is given in reply to Ronald Nash, who in that book suggested "certain affinities" between Clark's metaphysic and "the Boston Personalism of Edgar Sheffield Brightman and Process Philosophy." I wonder if Tipton took Nash's thesis and ran with it.]

Moreover, Tipton simply misreads Clark. His whole argument seems to be tenuously premised on one rhetorical question (!) that in context does not lend even the least bit of credence to Tipton's inferences.

I am no scholar of Van Til, but if I had to make a suggestion, it would be that Van Til drew inspiration from his interaction with Hegelians. See the following remarks from his 1927 dissertation, God and the Absolute:

...in as much as the Absolute is often spoken of as revealing Himself or itself,—being regarded either as personal or as impersonal,—and in as much as this revelation is spoken of as inexplicable 18 , the Absolute is very clearly looked upon as Beyond... 

For McTaggart God is the logical universal immanent in all particulars or else he becomes one of the particulars Himself. Now on this basis it is not possible to maintain that the Absolute has any meaning except that which finds realization in the particulars. It is again quite true that Idealism does not wish to go that far with its emphasis on immanence. It continues to speak of the Absolute as “selfconscious” and “personal.” But is Idealism entitled to such an Absolute? It seems not; a logical universal has meaning only because of and for the particulars in which it is manifested.

Right or wrong, Van Til's thesis (so it seems to me) is that in contradistinction to Idealism, Christianity is entitled to "such an Absolute." 

Perhaps Tipton's other arguments in his book are worthwhile, but I hope the above sets the record straight regarding Clark. As an addendum, I don't find Tipton's following line of argument convincing:

The theology of Gordon Clark finds affinity with the personalists in that it is motivated by a strong form of theological rationalism. However, the result of Clark’s rationalism for his doctrine of the Trinity amounts to a virtual denial of a personal essence or ousia in the Godhead – a point that has received little to no attention. Clark’s commitment to theological rationalism, together with his attempt to formulate a principle of individuation within the Godhead, yield a conception of the Godhead that granted self-consciousness only to the hypostases. If the rationalism of the personalists ascribed personality only to the unity of the Godhead, Clark’s rationalism relegated personality only to the diversity within the Godhead. This appeared most clearly in Clark’s argument that self-consciousness applies not to God as a self-identical subject, but only to the distinct hypostases understood as unique combinations of thoughts.

I do not find anywhere in the book that Tipton engages with Clark's points in his later works (flawed as they are) such as one can read in Clark's last letter to John Robbins (February, 1985):

Dear Dr. Robbins, The sheet from the Elders Handbook, which you sent me and Van Til also, held that God is both one Person and three Persons. This seems to be to be a form of Modalism, or Patripassionism as the early Church called it. The three names are names of three activities. When God creates, he is called Father, when he redeems he is called Son. In spite of the fact that Dr. Kuyper and Van Til speak of Three Persons, there is not much personality left, or perhaps I should say individuality. Look again at the seven lines you checked. I don’t know what these people do with “Only Begotten” or the “Procession” of the Spirit, or one of them speaking to another. In the study I am writing on the Incarnation, I preserve the distinction among the three Persons by arguing that although each is omniscient, they do not know, i.e. they cannot assent, the same set of propositions. The Second Person can know and say, “I became incarnate.” The Father cannot say this. The Father can say, “I begot the Son.” The Son begot nothing. What these modalists say on these points, I do not know. But it seems to me that the One Person would have to assert all these propositions, and to my mind that is plain nonsense.

For those interested in pursuing the doctrinal aspect of this debate further, I highly recommend Doug Douma's book The Grand Old Doc, in which he engages Tipton on this point (particularly, pgs. 115-117 and an apropos citation of John Murray).

Trinitarian and Anthropological Metaphysics

In the comments of a recent post, I was recently asked some challenging questions regarding Trinitarianism, Christology, and anthopology. In the past few years, I've mentioned several times the need for humility and balance when positing a doctrine of God (see here and pursuant links). On the one hand, I aim to do a better job of avoiding dogmatism on points of speculation. On the other hand, even in the case that answers to certain questions are underdetermined by biblical data, apologetic concerns warrant consideration of possibilities to prevent one's faith from being undercut. 

In what follows, my goal is to provide answers that are faithful to Scripture insofar as they are deducible from or coherent with it. Keeping in mind that this latter qualification - coherence - is a necessary but insufficient condition for truth, the questions I was asked will be indented:

I'm trying to also keep in my the Trinity, with the three persons united in one being. Being would be identical to nature (divine nature), would it not?

On the concept of "unity," this post would provide a helpful background for my own thoughts (excepting a few uncareful remarks in the final paragraph).

I don't think the Trinity are united "in one being" if that means persons are subsumed under nature. Don't get me wrong: natures don't exist without persons, and persons do not exist without natures. Yet insofar as "nature" or "being" discusses what is common to individuals, natures belong to and are predicated of persons, not persons to natures. "Enhypostasis" - nature is in the hypostasis. If persons were "in" natures, then Christ's having two natures would seem to imply Nestorianism.

Now, the members of the Trinity are consubstantial. In fact, I think the meaning of their being consubstantial is just the same as the meaning of you and I being consubstantial, although the manner of consubstantiality differs between Trinitarian members (eternal, necessary) and us as men (temporal, contingent). Regardless, they indeed are of the same nature. 

But I would balk at certain theories of divine simplicity that may be implicit in the phrasing of your question. That is, Trinitarian consubstantiality does not imply only one concrete nature. Recall that you mentioned mind is "indexed" to nature: if we subsumed the divine persons under or in a single, concrete divine nature, then, that would entail that there is just one divine mind. The problem with that - as you seem to recognize - is that it runs against biblical data suggesting the members have distinct, self-reflective thoughts (e.g. John 17). On that note:

So the mind of the Son would have self-referential propositions that the Father would not (e.g. "I am the eternally begotten one"), but that mind would not be coextensive with the person of the Son? What would be the remainder? Would it be something like the shared divine nature that extends beyond the self-referential thoughts of the mind?

While the mode of the Son's existence is eternal, He is also eternally begotten. Here is precisely where I think Clark, for example, went wrong: it is not merely that the Son thinks something of Himself that is different than His thought of the Father or Spirit; rather, this thought corresponds to something about the Son Himself. I argue Clark's rejection of the correspondence theory of truth in the 1940s led him to collapse persons into propositions/thoughts (link). I further argue I think Clark's reasons for rejecting it only pertain to a certain kind of correspondence theory of truth (link). 

What I am saying, then, is that the persons of the Trinity are not simply minds - and again, since you agree minds are "indexed" to nature, that would not constitute a differentiating principle between the individual Trinitarian persons anyway. Nor are the persons the thoughts of the mind (as if it is intelligible to suggest the divine persons are products of three minds?). On the contrary, the thoughts of the persons of the Trinity about themselves reflect or correspond to something unique about the way that they themselves are: unbegotton/originate, eternally begotten/generation, eternally spirated/process. Epistemological and ontological categories should not be collapsed. 

Also remember that in the original post on Clark and Nestorius, I was only attempting to provide a connotative definition of "person" in general. I was not talking individual persons/hypostases/subjects. For example, I think the Father, Son, Spirit, the angels, and humans are all "persons" because they have something in common: they each have a mind or minds. But this definition does not individuate any one individual "person" from any other. Well, that makes sense, for we agree that the having of a mind (or minds) is something properly belonging to the category of nature - not that we have the same nature as God, of course, but the overlap explains (at least partially) in what sense creaturely persons might be images of divine persons. 

So what individuates individual persons/hypostases/subjects? We might posit (as Clark did) that they can be individuated by their thoughts (of themselves). In a cursory analysis, this might be sufficient. But foundationally, note again that thoughts are products of thinkers. To the extent that an individual's thoughts of himself is relevant to this question, that to which the thoughts correspond - the individual himself - is all the more so. 

Let me suggest that an individual person is the correspondent of whatever may truly be predicated of him either timelessly (if His mode of existence is timeless, e.g. the Father) or at time t (if his given his mode of existence is temporal, e.g. an angel or human). What I "think" of myself is irrelevant, because my thoughts of myself are potentially false. Rather, true propositions about me (corresponding to my existence at time t) are those thoughts God thinks about me (corresponding to my existence at time t).

The above is perfectly intelligible to me. Even the case of Christ incarnate can be nuanced (example). Here is one catch, however: it suggests that the divine nature is concretized in the three persons. This should be obvious anyways if we accept a model of the Trinity on which each member of the Trinity has a distinct mind, but it should be noted. Not all (or even most) Trinitarian models would accept this. If we take Clark's definitions of thoughts/beliefs as involving volition, three concrete minds also entails three concrete wills.

Clark's own reasoning supports this, for he reject faculty psychology in the context of anthropology and Trinitarianism:

In the case of God, the simplicity of his reality should favor still more such a identification, rather than a development of divine faculty psychology. (April 3, 1937, Letter to J. Oliver Buswell)

A man is not a compound of three things, an intellect, a will, and an emotion. Each man is a single personality. (1943. On the Primacy of the Intellect. Westminster Theological Journal Vol. 5 No. 2, May. 182-195)

The question has to do with Ephesian 4 where it speaks of man’s mind being darkened. Well, I would include in the functions of mind the assent as well as the notitia, but I distinguish between the two functions. This is not faculty psychology, but it is two functions of the same spirit. (1977. A Defense of Christian Presuppositions in the Light of Non-Christian Presuppositions)

Just as in the post on "unity" I linked to above, these statements exhibit an internal inconsistency in Clark's thought. If the same spirit has two functions - assent and notitia or knowledge - then on what grounds could Clark affirm three distinct functions in one respect (self-knowledge) but not the other (assent)? If only the Son thinks "I am the Son," what does it mean to "think" if assent is not involved?

We can certainly differentiate the relationship between our persons to propositions we "know" (acquisitional, receptive) to the relationship between the Trinitarian persons and propositions they "know" (active, generative). In both cases, the objects of knowledge - truth-bearing propositions - are the same, although the psychological activity of "knowing" differs.

To reiterate, on the model I gravitate towards, the Trinitarian persons are consubstantial just as you and I are consubstantial. What it means for the divine nature to be "in" each person is the same, is true, and therefore corresponds to the existence of each person. There is just one "divine nature" that we conceptualize: all-wise, all-powerful, all-good, etc. Each member of the Trinity is all-wise, all-good, etc.

It's just that how consubstantiality cashes out is not in persons being found "in[side]" of a common nature but rather along the lines that a person who is a principle or "fount" (e.g. the Father; Adam) communicates his same nature to others who find their "origin" in him (e.g. the Son/Spirit; the rest of humanity). This bears on the unity of persons and explains the connection to traducianism, by the way, which I'll return to momentarily.

In the context of the Trinity, there is a necessary connection between the members. The property of the Father, the attributes of the divine nature He enhypostatizes, and mode of the communication of His divine nature to His Son and Spirit is such that the three persons 1) mutually depend on each other - for example, the Father is not who He is without His Son and Spirit - and 2) always act conjointly and agreeably. 

A comparison could reasonably be made between 1) three distinct knowers who distinctly and reflexively index the same, objective body of propositional meaning, and 2) three distinct operators or actors who necessarily produce one and the same conjoint operation or act (which, incidentally, includes the body of propositional meaning comprised of necessary and contingent truths).

A traducian friend of mine (Ken Hamrick) uses the language of "shared agency" to describe our participation in Adam's sin while the mode of "our" being was not yet (i.e. at the time of the Fall) as individuals but as the singular nature of Adam through which he sinned and out of whom we were not yet propagated as individuals (link). I agree with him, although how we think this analogizes to the Trinity differs. 

Ken would emphasize the numerical sameness of the spirit traduced to us and thereby argue for the numerical sameness of essence shared among the Trinity (link). I would emphasize that once we are propagated out of Adam, our possession of the same spirit is nevertheless concretely distinct and thereby argue that the Trinitarian persons exhibit an analogy to "shared agency" in the eternal communication of the divine nature through which the persons operate even as they are eternally individuated and individuals. As I mentioned at the outset, these are rather deep waters to stake out a dogmatic claim that one can confidently swim them. 

In either model - Ken's or mine - there is an analogy one could make between Trinitarianism and traducianism. There are also disanalogies in either case, of course. For Ken, whereas we have distinct, concrete natures (albeit inherited through our fathers once we are propogated out of them into a different mode of being, i.e. as individuals), the members of the Trinity would not. On my end, the manner of consubstantiality between the Father, Son, and Spirit would be eternal and grounded in their intrapersonal relations rather than temporal (such as my relation to my father). This interesting impasse at once suggests an argumentative parallel between Trinitarianism and traducianism regardless of which one of us is correct as well as that other reasons must be given for independent support for either of our positions.

I think my model goes some way in explaining biblical texts like John 17, the covenant of redemption, and the resonance between theology proper and anthropology. 

Further, on the subject of anthropology in general and traducianism in particular, I think this model (and Ken's) also avoids nominalism while affirming a realism in the contexts of original sin and justification which does not devolve into erroneous positions. For example, erroneous positions such as: 

1) one wherein Christ assumes a sinful nature (cf. uncareful statements of the doctrine of original sin), 

2) one wherein I am unjustly punished for sins which are really and completely alien to me (cf. representationalist theories of original sin), 

3) one wherein Christ assumes and glorifies a human nature under which all persons are said to be subsumed (cf. Eastern Orthodoxy and deification, despite the protestations of its apologists to believe that natures are in hypostases rather than the reverse), 

4) one wherein infused righteousness is argued as necessary for justification to be justly possible in this lifetime (cf. Roman Catholic apologists, although those who argue this are themselves inconsistent).

On several of these points, see here for more. Further potential advantages of this model are that it seems to cohere with other metaphysical ideas which have separate appeal: theistic propositional realism (i.e. divine conceptualism), a version of divine simplicity which allows for formal distinctions, an Aristotelian theory of universals, etc.

I've thought about this quite a lot, and while the above is not a full story, it's probably the best articulation I can come up with at the present. To your next question:

If by inheriting one's father's "spirit" means those immaterial attributes that he possesses (analogous to the material attributes one possesses), then I think I can get my mind around what "spirit" means. Just as our bodies are made from our parents's bodies without being identical to them, so our spirits are made from our parents's spirits without being identical to them.

But then what distinguishes mind and spirit, or are they the same?

I think they are the same. Christ assumed a body and a rational soul or spirit without assuming a person, so there is no Christological difficulty, at least. Ken has elsewhere suggested that the "spirit is the seat of the will regarding moral matters" (link), and I think this all dovetails with Clark's aforementioned thought that knowledge and assent are two functions of the same spirit.

Finally, I had written:

The separation of body and spirit is "death," and such is predicated of our persons; but so too is the separation of our spirit from the Spirit "death" also predicated of our persons... suggesting the relationship between man's body and his spirit is analogically related to the dependency of our spirit to God's Spirit?

Maybe all of this becomes simplified by looking at a case most Christians would agree with: Christians will be conscious in the intermediate state. Are these Christians still human? If so, then it appears that they just are, ontologically speaking, spirits. To say that the person experiences death is to say that his body has been separated from his spirit (i.e. himself). Men are not, ontologically speaking, composite beings, for although these spirits do normally have bodies, the separation of the normal unity between spirit and body does not ontologically change a person (spirit). Likewise, the separation of the designed unity between spirit and Spirit does not ontologically change a person (spirit). If physical death is not an ontological change, neither would be spiritual death.

Your question: 

As for the subsequent post wherein you discuss the intermediate state, have you considered also that our spiritual bodies may be of a different order than our physical bodies? Paul's statements about the natural body and spiritual body are puzzling. "Adam became a living being. The last Adam became a life-giving spirit." The first man was made of the earth from dust, the last man is from heaven. Is it not safe to say that even in our present state we not "fully human" but are "incomplete" because the body we were given (even Adam's sinless body) was only the seed of what will only be completed in the resurrection? So, it may be the case that there is no ontological change since the separation of the spirit from the body in death is part of the planned transformation from natural body to spiritual body (like the seed germinating).

Did you mean to ask whether it's possible that "even in our present state we [are] not "fully human" but are "incomplete""? If so, did the incarnate and yet-be-glorified Son assume a fully human nature? Further, when this Son died and was buried (prior to His resurrection), was He fully human or not? Surely the former. 

I would also keep in mind the question of whether or not the reprobate are fully human: they will experience a bodily resurrection too, but their spirit remains severed from the life-giving Spirit of God and, thus, experience a second death. These points cumulatively suggest that death entails no change in nature.

Now, my original comment was about whether is ontological change at the time of death. Here, on the other hand, I am here emphasizing that there is never a change to the human essence each of us has. Ontology is indeed a broader category than humanity, I just wanted to answer your specific questions by distinguishing between an eschatological telos and a change in nature.

Trinitarianism and Philosophy

I asked a recent acquaintance of mine who has an interest in Trinitarian metaphysics whether he had come across any contemporary philosophers who attempt to explain how the three members of the Trinity could have or share one numeric will. I was particularly seeking if any such authors also affirm that the three persons of the Trinity are distinguished by having self-consciousness.

My question mainly stemmed from pg. 83 of Clark's Today's Evangelism: Counterfeit or Genuine? Clark writes, "Assent then is an act of will." Of course, Clark is talking about humans, but if Clark is right, and if there is an analogy (!) to be made here - as Clark himself felt free enough to do in discussing Trinitarian minds and thoughts - I wondered how or if contemporary philosophers address the question of whether three distinct persons who assent to three distinct thoughts ("I am the Father" vs. "I am the Son" vs. "I am the Spirit") might not (ex hypothesi) thereby have three distinct wills. 

There are assumptions laden in this question. Of course, if human relationships and the relationship amongst the members of the Trinity are analogous, questioning would then turn to what is relevantly disanalogous such that, say, the Trinity might have distinct thoughts without distinct wills. To merely say there is a difference between humans and the Trinity does no work towards explaining what the differences are - let alone why there are differences - when we expect or intuit otherwise.

With these prefatory remarks out of the way, to my surprise, I was impressed that my acquaintance was quickly able to provide me with this article by Scott M. Williams entitled, "Unity of Action in a Latin Social Model of the Trinity." It was an interesting read, but I found it ultimately unsatisfying. From the article:

If the agent is not the same person as the person referred to in the predicate, then the copula expresses essential numerical sameness without identity. (I am unaware of any creaturely analogue to this. It is the divine persons’ sharing numerically the same nature, numerically the same uses of a mental token, and omniscience, that render this a unique case.) For example, if the Father uses a mental token of “I am God the Father” and in so doing affirms a proposition, then the Father affirms that God the Father is identical to God the Father. If the Son uses the same mental token of “I am God the Father” so as to affirm a proposition and never affirms something false (given omniscience), then relative to the Son, the Son affirms the proposition that the Son is essentially numerically the same divine nature as the Father without being identical to the Father. (pg. 331)

For starters, I have never heard of a theologian who would argue that the Son might utter, "I am God the Father." Now, I understand the author's idea, in context, is that the same token can entail affirmation of different propositions if said token is uttered in different contexts (e.g. by different persons). But unless I misread him, he distinguishes the divine nature from the divine persons by arguing the former is a constituent (i.e. part?) of the latter. 

If we assume he is correct, on what intelligible grounds could the Son's use of a mental token such as "I am God the Father" be in the sense of affirming a proposition such as "the Son is... the... divine nature"? On what intelligible grounds can the Father be considered interchangeable with what the author says is His constituent divine nature? Synecdoche? To put it mildly, would indeed be an "unique" understanding of the token in question as well as tokening in general, especially in the case of concretes (as the author argues the divine nature as well as divine persons are).

I found his explanations of other tokens he thinks all three divine persons can affirm on pg. 332 (“The Son and I are sent, and the Father is not sent”) and pg. 337 (“I shall be one who becomes incarnate”) similarly unpersuasive. Metaphysically speaking, is it not strictly the case that persons are sent or become incarnate? Even if it were or is true that the persons who are sent or become incarnate are numerically united in terms of divinity, I don't see how the tokens he mentions can be stretched to accommodate the sort of meanings he attaches as possible, propositional renderings of said tokens. In short, it looks as if the author attempting to retrofit a theory of tokens to suit a theory of numerical unity but has some difficulty accounting for certain tokens. 

With these disagreements registered, to speak of the project the author undertook in more broad terms, I don't criticize him for his thoughtful effort toward the attempt to put forth a coherent Trinitarian theory. Early church fathers made use of the philosophical language of their day, and even the most "traditional" of Protestants seem inclined to agree that the very best of man-made creeds are subject to scrutiny and, at times, even revision (e.g. link). ["Man-made" is not meant pejoratively, by the way, as we all make confessions, prayers, hear or give sermons, etc. using words other than those found in Scripture.]

I've also spoken positively of the role of speculation in apologetics elsewhere (link). Of course, the secret things belong to the Lord our God (Deuteronomy 29:29). But we cannot default to shutting down difficult questions about faith, for some answers to difficult questions may by good and necessary consequence be deduced from Scripture (WCF 1.6). Further, even if theories to certain, difficult questions are underdetermined by Scriptural testimony, providing these as possible answers may hearten one's assurance, discourage confusion of Christianity with worldviews which are internally contradictory, etc. 

What can be personally challenging is that those who are philosophically inclined (such as myself) can, at times, be so enamored with a possible answer to a difficult question that we confuse it with a thoroughly, exegetically grounded one such as is described by the Westminster divines. This was the case with my tendency towards dogmatism on the monarchy of the Father in the early to middle 2010s, at least in the way I presented myself. Having a sense of coherence (a possible answer) is not the same as having truth (link). 

I use myself as an example so that others exploring difficult questions - as one may - may tread with care so as not to stumble over their own pride as I did. For despite my criticisms of the above author, I do understand reasons why one might favor a "one numeric will" model even if it is difficult to explain, one reason being that will must be "located" in nature rather than hypostasis to avoid monotheletism. I've spoken more to that point here as I continue to try to think through this particular Trinitarian puzzle, although I won't act as if I've found the one and only piece that fits. Sometimes, wisdom simply dictates the need for silent meditation on God's word, patient prayer for grace and spiritual illumination, and respect for God's thrice holy name.

A Critical Evaluation of Eastern Orthodoxy

I have been reading about Eastern Orthodoxy, and while I was recently visiting Emory's theological library, on a whim, I picked up a journal from 2011 called Greek Orthodox Theological Review. One article in the publication is by Eduard Borysov and entitled, "The Doctrine of Deification in the Works of Pavel Florensky and John Meyendorff: A Critical Examination" (link). In it, he outlines a few 20th century Eastern Orthodox theologians and their understanding of how "mystical union between the transcendent God and creatures" is possible.

While the bulk of the article is expository in nature, the final section ("Critical Evaluation") is one of the more incisive critiques of Eastern Orthodoxy I've read. So I thought to reproduce this section here for any who are interested:

In light of the presented views, the tension between indirect participation in God through his energies that are, at the same time, God himself remains unresolved. There are ambiguities in these ideas on several levels. 

The first ambiguity relates to the issue of the definition of the divine energies and their distinction from essence. How can immanent, known energies of God manifest his unknown transcendent essence? If God is wholly present in his energies, in what way are those energies different from his essence? In other words, if the uncreated energies of God are God himself, how one can equate and at the same time distinguish manifestations of the nature with the nature itself? It is still unclear whether the deified person assumes two natures after union with Christ, that is, the deified human nature and the divine nature by grace. If so, what does it mean to be God by grace, and how is that different from being God by nature? Is it not true that complete participation in God implies the fact that he is no longer unknown to the participant and is not transcendent? If communication between God and man occurs at the level of the external manifestations of their natures, how does this happen? Since deification is an experience of God beyond human reason, emotions, or will, in what way can one claim that he has participated in God and not in some other sort of ecstatic or psychological phenomenon?

If a living essence cannot avoid manifesting itself through energies, they are inseparable. However, the problem of identifying energies with essence is that, in the doctrine of salvation, synergy would not only mean a divine-human energies partnership in salvific activity, but also a union of the natures involved in such synergistic salvation, namely, God and man. One should also take into account the notion of "symbol," which Florensky defined as essence, whose energy is mingled with the energy of the other, higher essence, so that symbol is a reality that is greater than itself." If we apply this analogy to deification, we would have to conclude that the energies of man are mingled with the divine energies. And since we cannot discern God from his energies, because energies are inseparable from the divine essence, then both human and divine essences are mingled as well, and thus are indiscernible. Even if Florensky would say that they are not mingled, they are still indiscernible, which brings in a problem for our understanding of the nature of God. 

The second ambiguity is connected to the language used to define and describe deification. It seems that Florensky follows Maximus the Confessor closely, being at some points very ambiguous about the limitations of theosis. He is not afraid to be misunderstood when he talks about the patristic prohibition against participation in or contemplation of the divine nature. He scarcely mentions the traditional patristic teaching that the deified participates only in the divine energies and never in the divine nature. Another example of ambiguity in Florensky's terminology is the idea of synergy between two essences. He says that the synergy of two essences by means of energies produces something "new" to both participants. That sounds like Eutychianism. 

The third ambiguity is based on the philosophical, mainly Platonic, dichotomy between a generic essence and a particular person. Rakestraw is correct when he points out the inappropriate "emphasis upon humanity, rather than human beings [;] being divinized seems to put the focus more on generic human nature rather than individual men and women." Since, according to Agiorgoussis's comment on Maximus, "will and energy do not belong to the person, but to the nature (essence)" by partaking in the divine energies, one shares in the divine nature, not in the divine person. However, the biblical language of participation and sharing belongs on the plane of persons, not natures. For Paul, Christians are transformed into the image and likeness of Christ, not into his deified human nature. Moreover, to what extent can one speak of essence-transforming in the experience of the deified? How would this person's divine nature be different from the divine nature of God? It is unreasonable to invent different kinds of divine nature, whereby God possesses a higher kind of divinity and man a lower kind. 

There is inconsistency in presenting energies as belonging to essence in the Christological context and also as belonging to persons in the Trinitarian context. Meyendorff says, "Repeatedly in the writings of St. Gregory Palamas one finds the expression that divine energies—or the uncreated light—are 'hypostatic' (ÚTroaxaxiKOv cpcoç) or 'en-hypostatic' (évuTióaxaiov)." Since essence does not in reality exist by itself without a hypostasis, it is logical for Meyendorff to conclude that energies belong to a person. However, this statement would contradict the decisions of the ecumenical councils, which claimed that the Trinity has one essence and thus the same energy shared by the three persons, while Christ has two natures and two energies that belong to one person. 

Finally, inconsistency is present in the ways deification is acquired. The Orthodox representatives are assured of the divine source of the union because the transformation of human nature can happen only as the result of God's gift of grace. At the same time, they agree that participation in the sacraments, virtues, and hesychastic prayer are essential in receiving that grace. Ultimately, synergy of the divine gift and human efforts results in a theoandric metamorphosis of the human partaker.

Borysov's comments stand on their own, but I want to make some follow-up observations. 

1. The article immediately reminded me of similar criticisms of Eastern Orthodoxy provided by Steve Hays (link, link, etc.). I encourage readers to read these and search for other articles by him.

2. Borysov writes the following in the main body of his article:

Palamas's theology of energies, according to Meyendorff, has no philosophical rationale behind it. However, one should not forget that the philosophical notions of hypostasis, nature, and energies played a key role in the Christological controversies and had become the basic principles for Palamas's theology proper as well as his soteriology. God is, by definition, unrelated to and above any essence, hence he is unknown by any essence. (Gregory Palamas, Gregory Palamas: The Triads, § 3.2.24, ed. John Meyendorff, trans. Nicholas Gendle (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 1983), 95)

If God is unrelated to and above any essence, in what way can humans be images of God?

3. I'm going to highlight one of the more fascinating parts of Borysov's article:

Since essence does not in reality exist by itself without a hypostasis, it is logical for Meyendorff to conclude that energies belong to a person. However, this statement would contradict the decisions of the ecumenical councils, which claimed that the Trinity has one essence and thus the same energy shared by the three persons, while Christ has two natures and two energies that belong to one person.

I imagine Borysove is referring, for example, to the third council of Constantinople:

…as we confess the holy and inseparable Trinity, that is, the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost, to be of one deity, of one nature and substance or essence, so we will profess also that it has one natural will, power, operation, domination, majesty, potency, and glory…

Consequently, therefore, according to the rule of the holy Catholic and Apostolic Church of Christ, she also confesses and preaches that there are in him two natural wills and two natural operations. For if anybody should mean a personal will, when in the holy Trinity there are said to be three Persons, it would be necessary that there should be asserted three personal wills, and three personal operations (which is absurd and truly profane). Since, as the truth of the Christian faith holds, the will is natural, where the one nature of the holy and inseparable Trinity is spoken of, it must be consistently understood that there is one natural will, and one natural operation…

…we confess God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost; not three gods, but one God, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost: not a subsistency of three names, but one substance of three subsistences; and of these persons one is the essence, or substance or nature, that is to say one is the godhead, one the eternity, one the power, one the kingdom, one the glory, one the adoration, one the essential will and operation of the same Holy and inseparable Trinity, which has created all things, has made disposition of them, and still contains them. (link)

To summarize, Borysov's initial point seems to be that the divine essence doesn't exist or subsist apart from the persons of the Trinity. Therefore, the persons of the Trinity are who will, think, choose, operate, etc., for "energies belong to a person." If I am understanding him correctly, this makes sense to me, for I myself have argued for a long time that the persons of the Trinity are not (contrary to, say, absolute divine simplicity) identical to their acts of will, thoughts, choices, operations, etc. To all appearances, such would lead to modal (and, seemingly, hypostatic) collapse.

Borysov's initial point also reminded me of the following comment by Joseph Farrell who, I recall, used to be cited as a go-to theologian by Eastern Orthodox apologists (I'm not sure if this is the case any more since he deconverted): "there must be in each case a unique enhypostatization of the will in the person, each free to do with the natural will and its objects of choice what he sees fit" (Free Choice in Maximus the Confessor, pg. 189, link).

While it is true that, in context, Farrell is referring to human persons, insofar as there is an admitted analogy between Trinity, Christology, and anthropology, Farrell's above statement seems to agree with Borysov that "energies belong to a person," for then each person of the Trinity would have "a unique enhypostatization of the [divine] will in the person."

Now, I understand the argument against grounding "the will" in persons or hypostases, for that would either lead to either Monothelitism (Christ only has one will because He is one person) or Nestorianism (Christ has two wills because He is two persons). Both of these positions are false, so "the will" shouldn't be grounded in the individual or subject but rather his nature(s). The one Christ has two natures and, therefore, two wills.

We must be careful to strike a balance here, however, for to say the will is grounded in nature does not mean that people who have the same nature make the same choices. My actual choices are not your actual choices, for even though we have the same nature, "there must be in each case a unique enhypostatization of the will in the person," "energies belong to a person," etc. You and I are consubstantial, but the actual choices you and I make are particular to us as different persons or hypostases. In short, I think that to understand this is to understand the difference between numeric and generic unity which I have attempted to explain in several other places (link, link). 

[Parenthetical: it bears repeated emphasis that one really needs to be careful to strike a balance here. While Borysov does not mention original sin and I do not want to stray too far from the point I am attempting to make, what I have said above does not entail that the Reformed understanding of original sin is false. Nothing I have said implies that only actual choices are sinful, that one cannot participate in the sins of one's forefather[s] (even though actual choices are made by persons), etc. While such Reformed views would require a nuanced defense (e.g. of traducianism), Eastern Orthodox apologists are too hasty if and when they suggest the Reformed understanding of original sin implies nominalism and so forth.

While I am on the subject of Eastern Orthodoxy and original sin, their own synods affirm that infants are subject to eternal punishment: 

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)

Since Eastern Orthodoxy rejects the Reformed understanding of original sin, their apologists have a challenge in accounting for this.]

Returning to my former line of thought, this is one reason I am inclined toward the view, for example, that the Father, Son, and Spirit have distinct thoughts. If they are distinct hypostases or persons or subjects or individuals, then we would expect that each would refer to Himself using reflexive indexicals and would not do the same when referring to the other persons. And, indeed, this is what we see in Scripture (e.g. John 17, in which the Son prays to His Father using first person pronouns for Himself and second person pronouns for the distinct person of the Father to whom He is praying). 

Of course, I affirm each Trinitarian person is omniscient. The propositional knowledge they share is common, but the mode in which each person would affirm this knowledge (e.g. of the economic activity of the Trinity, although the same could be applied to their intra-Trinitarian relationships, such as they are) cannot seemingly be the same without collapsing the three persons into one. That is, only the Son can think, for example, "I became man." 

Analogously, each Trinitarian person would also seem to have a different mode of will. While this mode of will would not be what Eastern Orthodox refer to as "gnomic," nevertheless, only the Son could truly affirm (because it corresponds to the enhypostatized, willed reality), "I became man," whereas only the Father can truly affirm, with respect to the Son, that "I sent you" (because it corresponds to the enhypostatized, willed reality), etc. 

This also coheres well, for example, with the Reformed idea of a covenant of redemption. The Father and Son agree (which language already suggests "unique enhypostatization[s]" of the natural, divine will that each Trinitarian person has) about how to act to redeem the elect. The nature of the Trinitarian persons would entail that they necessarily and conjointly agree about what free choice[s] they make - for our creation, let alone our redemption, was not necessitated or obligated - but [their roles in] said choice[s] require distinction.

I will leave aside the question (as interesting as it is) about whether this has implications regarding historical councils. Rather, an ironic point I think Borysov underscores is that the above may be underemphasized in Eastern Orthodoxy, apologists of which make a big deal about absolute divine simplicity (as if Reformed theologians have universally affirmed this; they have not, link). 

That is, just as Eastern Orthodoxy argues against identification of the divine attributes, so too they ought to be careful to avoid identification of the modes of thought and will of each divine person. But this is a danger if Eastern Orthodoxy rejects (for whatever reason - adherence to historical councils or otherwise) "generic unity" by taking consubstantiality to mean that the Trinitarian persons share the "same energy" - as if such energy does not belong to persons, as if the divine will or nature is not enhypostatized a la Farrell, as if reflexive thoughts of members of the Trinity collapse into a singular referent, etc. 

Perhaps such dangers are not a necessary consequence of Eastern Orthodoxy (despite that Borysov seems to think so). Naturally, this discussion could beg a host of other questions, and I don't intend to address all of them (e.g. further nuances of the Eastern Orthodox view of an essence and energies distinction). The main point is that if or when I have said anything in the past about there being three wills or minds among the members of the Trinity, I have not meant to suggest that three wills or minds are suggestive of distinct natures or that "the will" is grounded in hypostases; rather, the language I have been trying to convey is of unique enhypostatizations of the same, generic nature (in which "the [divine] will" is located) by which we call the distinct persons consubstantial. This seems to be a more precise formulation.

I think (although I could be wrong) that this is also what Ian McFarland is getting at when he discusses Maximus the Confessor:

...one of Maximus' chief arguments against the Monothelites was that their association of will with hypostasis led to the unacceptable conclusion that there were three wills in God. As one nature, God has one will. If follows that what God wills, God wills naturally. Maximus takes it as self-evident that such a conception of willing does not amount to a form of necessitarianism; moreover, it remains internally differentiated by virtue of its enactment in and through the three hypostases... (link)

See also footnote 68, wherein McFarland cites Maximus as writing, "For [Christ] came with the good pleasure of the Father and the co-operation of the Spirit" (Opuscule 7). This language too implies that the energies of the persons are distinct precisely because, as has been said several times now, "energies belong to a person." The Trinitarian persons necessarily co-operate, for there is more than one person and, thus, more than one person's energy or energies in question.

Anyways, the point I am making about generic unity and distinction in choice, thought, etc. wouldn't, I think, be all that controversial when applied to men. To the degree one takes issue with a Trinitarian-Christological-anthropological analogy, then, he would have to explain what is relevantly different about the Trinitarian situation (i.e. something more than just pointing out that the consubstantiality of the Trinity entails that they necessarily work towards the same end; such a point does not address the examples of unique thoughts or choices each person has). This, though, I gather that this is precisely what an Eastern Orthodox apologist would wish to avoid.

Puzzling on the Trinity

In a post from last year on Trinitarianism (link), I wrote, "in spite of my above reservations and thoughts, I am not as dogmatic about this as I used to be. The subject is complicated, to say the least! Before all else, I deny that the Father and Son are of different natures." 

Thinking about how monotheism and Trinitarianism are both true can sometimes feel like trying to complete the final piece of a puzzle while blindfolded. It might feel like just one, last piece would complete the puzzle, but there are several pieces within arms reach that could be tested to fit the final, missing space of the puzzle. 

Now, tangibly speaking, a blindfolded person can ascertain that there are certain things that can be known about the missing piece, such as the edges it should have. But suppose several pieces seem to fit the same space. I try one piece, and since it had the wrong edges, I discard it. I another piece, and it seems to fit the puzzle. How exciting! But then I try another, just to be safe... and it also seems to fit!

Perhaps some pieces ended up in the wrong puzzle box. These pieces don't match the picture of my puzzle at all, even if they may seem to fit. Since I am blindfolded, I can't see the puzzle to determine that each piece I try also matches the holistic art of the puzzle itself. But I do know that a puzzle isn't just about fitting in pieces into places. That is, a puzzle is about fitting pieces that should be able to form an intelligible picture which could be recognized if my blindfold was taken off.

Now, I think there must still be a way to determine which piece is correct. Let's imagine this puzzle being multi-layered in that every piece of the puzzle has bumps on it such that if I fit the correct piece into the missing spot, a blindfolded person such as myself could conceivably confirm the piece is correct by reading an intelligible message in Braille. The problem I face now is that I don't know how to read Braille, so I have to learn that first.

Cashing this analogy out, the picture of the puzzle box I am attempting  to construct is the reality, and my epistemic quest is to reconstruct this picture. That is, it may initially seem like there are multiple possible Trinitarian models coherent with biblical revelation. However, this can't be. 

Sure, there may be obvious respects in which models may be similar. And, to a certain point, all puzzlers or believers should have the same pieces or beliefs: the Father, Son, and Spirit are distinct persons; these persons are consubstantial; there is one God. These puzzle pieces are fundamental to the construction of an intelligible puzzle.

But further attempt to harmonize these truths will appeal to a puzzle piece or belief that might have the same edges as the missing spot in the puzzle. Each seems to fit... in a tactile sense. At the moment - and I'll speak for myself - I can't see the whole picture well enough to determine which piece or model is correct. 

I do think, though, there must be a way to determine which model is correct (or if there might even be another similarly edged model I have not yet "grasped"). This is, I admit, just an intuition, perhaps based on that I think I have already grasped several pieces whose edges have seemed to fit the other pieces.

For those who sympathize with this metaphor, "Braille" might refer to any number of things. For my part, I think I need a better understanding of exegetical and metaphysical underpinnings of issues related to Trinitarian discussions. Before I declare a piece is correct, I want more evidence that the Braille message yielded by a given model is intelligible. That means I have to learn more about Braille before I can resolve the puzzle to my satisfaction. 

Another reason I use this illustration, though, is to caution against a rushed interpretation of any script one thinks has formed an intelligible message. Don't get me wrong: the puzzle-piecing process is a good thing. It sharpens our minds and orients us toward good things. In fact, I rather enjoy the puzzle piecing process. That's probably one reason God has set these questions before us as He has - albeit questions which command our caution, attention, and reverence. Conversation we have with other believers helps, as I think it's meant to. 

But we also ought to be faithful in piecing together what parts of the puzzle we can during the time in which we are given - carefully discarding false doctrine as it comes - rather than treating the process as a time-clock scenario in which our salvation depends on our having a completed puzzle. A piece with the wrong bumps is just as false as one with the wrong edges, and the former requires even more care. For while we may be blindfolded in this life, we shall see the truth more clearly in the next. 

The parable of the talents shows how sorry we will be if we are lazy and apathetic towards our Master. This scenario hopefully shows how sorry we will be if we are overzealous.

Trinitarianism and [Eternal] Hierarchicalism

Because I wasn't able to participate in our monthly podcast in May due to the passing of my grandmother, I recently reviewed a book called "Masculine Christianity." In the course of writing the review, I had a few thoughts on "hierarchicalism," a term I use to mean that all [earthly] societies exhibit an ordered hierarchy. These thoughts diverged from the point of the review enough that I felt a separate post on the subject was warranted. So here we are:

Whether it is in the context of the church, government, family, or work, all earthly organizations have authorities and those who submit to said authorities. Because, as I mentioned in the review, I think earthly societies image the divine society, I think there is good reason to consider some idea of eternal hierarchicalism as understandably motivated. It would make sense that the functions of the economic Trinity were rooted in the ontological Trinity, for example.

Could the Father have been sent by the Son to become incarnate? Did the Father not have authority to send His Son? Is it possible for the Son to even obey the Father? A common reply to eternal hierarchicalism is the idea that there is one Trinitarian will, which would seemingly prevent any one person from submitting to or having the capacity for authority over any other. This idea does not seem to do justice to the fact the Father sent/loves His Son (cf. John 17:24) or how the Son obeyed/loves His Father. Rather, a more plausible possibility is that the members of the Trinity have distinct wills - similar to how they must have their own, distinct minds to respectively think "I am the Father" vs "I am the Son" (and perhaps distinct minds itself entails distinct wills) - which, because they are of the same nature, will always be mutually interdependent and directed.

In the book, the author made much of chronological priority in Adam and woman's case as to why Adam was the head over woman. Is there perhaps an analogy to be made - albeit not in temporal terms, obviously - with eternal generation (in that the Father may be considered the fount of divinity)? If so, eternal hierarchalism would make the author's case in the book even stronger. Of course, I would stress that the author is correct to say that women and men are of equal value, equally image God, are equally human, and think they are equally important to that for which God commissioned them in the dominion mandate. But, as the author says, "rank" or hierarchy exists. So too, the Father and Son are equal in nature... thus, I think 1 Corinthians 15:28 and the like (John 5:19, 26) could use better argumentation as to why the authority or hierarchy implied is only an economic one (due to the incarnation) rather than an eternal one - especially since, in the 1 Corinthians passage, Paul specifically switches terminology from Christ to Son.

Nevertheless, in spite of my above reservations and thoughts, I am not as dogmatic about this as I used to be. The subject is complicated, to say the least! Before all else, I deny that the Father and Son are of different natures. After all, if we are speaking of analogies, there is a clear analogy between sonship in human terms vs. Sonship in divine terms in that our being sons of fathers doesn't mean we have different natures than our fathers. So, too, the Son and Father do not have different natures. This parallel is clear, and it is the one I think through which we should evaluate any other parallels we wish to draw (if such there be). That is, human nature and generation differs from divine nature and generation. Thus, if any other parallel we draw would logically imply that the Father and Son are not of the same nature, we should reject such parallels as being instances of disanalogies due to these differences.

While it is possible for those of the same nature to differ in terms of who is authoritative, then (for earthly fathers have authority over sons), if - and this is the big question - it turned out that eternal hierarchicalism would entail that the Father and Son have different natures (e.g. due to aseity), we must reject that the idea that a father-son relationship necessarily entails a hierarchy. One can point out that earthly fathers have authority over their earthly sons as an example of how those of the same nature can differ in rank or authority. But to parallel this to the Trinity would be wrong to do so if such would imply that the Father and Son are of different natures. The intended parallel would break down at precisely this point due to the difference in human and divine nature. Eternal hierarchicalism would be wrong.

Now, I don’t find such an entailment to be a clear implication - and if it were, I would have questions about eternal generation too - but the situation is unclear enough that I hesitate to dogmatically assert eternal hierarchalism. On the other hand, in contrast to the author of the book, I would not be dogmatic in denial of eternal hierarchicalism either. The position makes sense to me, but there are orders of belief, and this one would be subordinate to my belief in the consubstantiality of the Trinity.

Perhaps the author or others have searched the matter more deeply. If so, and to return to the question and men and women and authority, I wish the author would have explained why he thinks a difference in rank or authority implies a difference in nature between men and women, both of whom he regards as equally human but, somehow, as having different natures. After all, fathers and sons or masters and slaves or kings and citizens or elders and congregations have different authority, but they do not have different natures (presumably?). If rank or authority does not usually imply a difference in nature, why suppose that men and women must have different natures? Is it because in the other cases, the relationship is contingent (one can fail to become a father, master, king, or elder) whereas a human is necessarily either a man or woman? Crucially missing in the book was a definition of “nature,” so I can only attempt to hypothesize the author’s case so far.

Either way, care is needed when comparing the earthly father-son parallel to the Heavenly Father-Son parallel. For example, when children leave their earthly fathers and mothers to start new families, new headships and priorities are established that eclipse old ones. In fact, at some point, children begin to become responsible for the well-being of the parents in their old age. Should we press the analogy such that when the Son left His Father’s domain to come wed the church, He similarly has left the divine family to be the Head of a new one? Of course not. Nor can we regard the Father as capable of aging, etc. There are limits to parallels and analogies we can make between human and divine families, though such parallels there are.

Divine Impassibility

I was recently asked if I had any thoughts on divine impassibility. I haven't studied the doctrine that much. Here is a quote from Clark on the subject:

Does the Bible indicate that God is subject to sudden, involuntary, non-intellectual upheavals in his usually calm state of mind? Well, hardly. The Westminster Confession, the best summary of the contents of the Bible, says that God is without parts or passions. Parts refers to bodily organs. Bodies have parts, minds do not. But God is also without passions. The word passion, in more modern terminology affection, is wider than the term emotion but includes the latter. A passion or affection is the result of being affected by some external force. A dog is affected by a whipping; a student is affected, sometimes, by the possibility of a good grade. There are modern psychology books written about “the affective consciousness.” But God is not affected by anything. Of, in another translation of the Greek term, God does not “suffer” anything. 

On the contrary, not only the Westminster Confession, but all or nearly all the historic creeds says that God is immutable. He does not change. Emotion, however, is a sudden, involuntary change. To have emotions would be inconsistent with God’s eternal state of blessedness. 

Now, someone may say that God loves and that love is an emotion. But with respect to love, two points must be made. First, God’s love is eternal, therefore not a sudden change, therefore not an emotion. Second, God commands us to love him. A command requires voluntary obedience. Therefore the love God commands is volitional, not emotional. Doubtless God commands the impossible. He commands us to keep his law perfectly. This we cannot do because of sin. The impossibility arises from us; it does not arise from any irrationality in the commands. God commands the impossible, but he does not command the absurd. (Gordon Clark, Today's Evangelism: Counterfeit or Genuine?)

A few scattered thoughts:

1. Given that emotions are involuntary, I don't think emotions can be intrinsically sinful, although their presence in a particular context could serve as an indication of sin. Jesus was sinless yet, at times, angry, happy, and sad. If we suppose someone else was happy when Jesus would have been angry (with money changers) or sad (at Lazarus' death), or if we suppose someone else was angry or sad when Jesus was happy, then it would seem emotions are a kind of contextually indicative reflection of one's current state of sanctification. Either way, any argument for the impassibility of God couldn't proceed along these lines.

2. If a "passion or affection is the result of being affected by some external force," then God could not be necessarily be affected by anything external to the Trinity, for there is nothing external to the Trinity which was not created. So if divine passibility could be true, it would have to be a contingent property like divine creator-ship.

[I am assuming here that the relationships among the members of the Trinity are necessary, eternal, and, thus, not of the sort intended to be included by a doctrine of divine impassibility. The Father, Son, and Spirit are distinct, eternal generation and spiration are true, and so some might be tempted to say that the members of the Trinity "affect" one another, for example - whether in respect of person or merely personhood is a matter of dispute between eastern and western Trinitarian models - but I would assume that necessary condition for passibility is change, which obviously does not take place given that the Trinity and their relationships are eternal, at least apart from consideration of a contingent creation (i.e. the ontological vs. economic Trinity)].

3. I believe creation is contingent so as to avoid, roughly, the consequence that the Trinity depends on creation in the same sense the Father depends on the Son. However, I think that most proponents of divine impassibility do not think that the fact that we can affirm contingent truths about God like "God is our creator," "God is our savior," etc. would count as a mark against divine impassibility - they may not even count as a mark against divine immutability. At the very least, those contingencies are true in virtue of God's own initiative.

Furthermore, as a Calvinist, I believe God determines all things. God initiates and determines changes, so only in a proximate sense could I say that something external to God has affected Him (not that I would say that). It may affect Him, but only insofar as God had taken the initiative in determining to create something external to Him for that express purpose. So one question is whether God created with a purpose, in part, that His creation would affect Him - change Him, in some way. It may be that God did not create with this intention and so did not determine that creation would affect Him - obviously, this would be in favor of divine impassibility.

But suppose He did create and determine all things with that intention. Another question is, given that any alleged affectation would ultimately derive from God's own initiative and determination, whether that alleged affectation can really by ascribed to something external to God, or if it is really God who is changing Himself. The latter might be the more accurate expression of the state of affairs. This could constitute an argument for divine impassibility, but it would be controversial.

Suppose I intend and determine to hit myself with a hammer and that nothing could stop me from doing so. Was the hammer instrumental to the change in pain I feel? Yes. But the hammer can has no instrumentality apart from my will. So was it the hammer that really affected me, or was it my will, or was it both? If the first or last option, that cuts against divine impassibility. If the second, that works in its favor. An answer to this could depend on the semantics and technical nuances of a particular expression of divine impassability. I'm not sure.

Of course, this all assumes the speculative point about whether God intended that creation would lead to some kind of internal change or affectation in the first place. But to my mind, the Incarnation seems to correspond to the hammer illustration: who and what I am allows me to be able to assume a hammer in my hand by which I can hurt myself. Indeed, the Incarnation is even stronger than this analogy, for whereas I cannot in fact create a hammer, the assumption of a hammer is not an assumption of a nature or capacities, and other things can prevent me from hurting myself with it, the Son in fact initiated and infallibly determined His own Incarnation and assumption of a nature or capacities precisely so as to be hurt through the crucifixion. So the questions about whether I am being really affected by the hammer, if I am affecting myself, or both would have analogous correspondents to the situation of the Incarnation.

4. Direct arguments for divine impassibility could be made from other alleged divine attributes. Divine simplicity would entail divine impassibility. Given that there would be no real distinction between impassibility and simplicity, then it is trivially true that any argument for divine simplicity would be an argument for divine impassibility. I have numerous reasons for disagreeing with divine simplicity, however, so to the extent that I agree with divine impassibility, I wouldn't look here.

Another direct argument for divine impassibility is to argue for divine immutability. Divine impassibility may not require divine immutability per point 3 above, but if God doesn't change, then obviously nothing external to Him could be said to change Him. Ultimately, what grounds our belief in something about God ought to be divine revelation, but our support can be either explicit or implicit. I'm sure others are more aware of relevant biblical passages than I am.

Currently, I am sympathetic towards divine immutability and, to that extent, sympathetic towards divine impassibility as well. I am undecided, however. Obviously, an adherent of divine immutability must consider the relevancy of the Incarnation. Unless I were to encounter incontrovertible, unambiguous biblical support for a specific theory and expression of immutability or impassibility - I may have done so and just don't remember, or I may have and just think (correctly or not) that those texts are prima facie consistent with varying positions - I would need to develop my views on the Incarnation and a theory of time before I could answer decisively.