I Finally Get My BlogRoll Rolling

I am lazy, a man of leisure, a slacker before slackers were so-called, but not particularly arrogant.  So don't take it as arrogance that I have until just recently expanded the blogroll of this, the third major incarnation of Maverick Philosopher, beyond one entry.  Well, maybe some arrogance is involved in consequence of an upsurge in readership:  who really and thoroughly knows the inner workings of his own psyche?  (But knowing the limits of self-knowledge is important self-knowledge.)

In any case, scroll down til near the end of the right-hand sidebar and you will find some links.  They are mostly links to the sites of friends I have made over the years via this wonderful medium.  Some I have had the pleasure of meeting in the flesh.  Some I hope to meet.  Those who appear in the 'sphere under their real names I list by their names.  Others I list by their weblog names. 

My friends in other disciplines should not feel slighted.  I'll get around to you eventually.

Patriotism and Jingoism

It is not uncommon to hear people confuse patriotism with jingoism. So let's spend a few moments this Fourth of July reflecting on the difference. 

Jingoism is well described by Robert Hendrickson as "bellicose chauvinism." But given the general level of culture, I am afraid I can't leave it at that, but must go on to explain 'chauvinism' and 'bellicose.' Chauvinism has nothing to do with sex or race. I have no objection to the phrases 'male chauvinism' or 'white chavinism,' the latter a term widely used in the 1950s in Communist Party USA circles; but the qualifiers are essential. Chauvinism, named after Nicholas Chauvin of Rochefort, an officer under Napoleon, is excessive nationalism. 'Bellicose' from the Latin word for war (bellum, belli) means warlike. So we get 'warlike excessive nationalism' as the definiens of 'jingoism.'

According to Henrickson, the term 'jingoism' originated from a refrain from the British music hall song "The Great MacDermott" (1878) urging Great Britain to fight the Russians and prevent them from taking Constantinople:

We don't want to fight, yet by Jingo if we do/ We've got the ships, we've got the men, and the money, too.

'By Jingo,' in turn, is a euphemism for 'by Jesus' that dates back to the later 17th century. (QPB Encyclopedia of Word and Phrase Origins, 2nd ed. p. 395) So much for 'jingoism.' I think we are all going to agree that it is not a good thing. Patriotism, however, is a good thing, a virtue. Like any virtue it is a means between two extremes. In this case, one of the extremes is excessive love of one's country, while the other is a deficiency of love for one's country. The patriot's love of his country is ordinate, within bounds. The patriot is neither a jingoist nor a neutralist. Both are anti-patriots. To confuse a patriot with a jingoist is like confusing a dissenter with a traitor. No doubt sometimes a jingoist or chauvinist will hide beneath the mantle of patriotism, but just as often a traitor will hide beneath the mantle of dissent. The patriot is also not a xenophobe since ordinate love of one's country does not entail hattred or fear of other countries and their inhabitants. Is patriotism, defined as the ordinate love of, and loyalty to, one's country justified?

Although it does not entail xenophobia, patriotism does imply a certain partiality to one's own country precisely because it is one's own. Is this partiality toward one's own country justifiable?  If it is, then so is patriotism.  As Socrates explains in Plato's Crito, we are what we because of the laws.  Our country and its laws have overseen our nurturance, our education, and the forming of our characters. We owe a debt of gratitude to our country, its laws, those who have worked to maintain and defend it, and especially those who have died in its defense.

A Case for Open Immigration?

Spencer Case sent me a link to a short op-ed piece by Michael Huemer who teaches philosophy at the University of Colorado.  Huemer's thesis is that

. . . U.S. immigration policy is fundamentally unjust. It disregards the rights and interests of other human beings, merely because those persons were born in another country. It coercively imposes clear and serious harms on some people, for the sake of relatively minor or dubious benefits for others who happened to have been born in the right geographical area.

Huemer's argument stripped to essentials and in his own words:

1. It is wrong to knowingly impose severe harms on others, by force, without having a good reason for doing so. This principle holds regardless of where one's victims were born or presently reside.

2. The U.S. government, in restricting immigration, knowingly and coercively imposes severe harms on millions of human beings.

3.  The U.S. government has no good reason for imposing such harms on potential immigrants.

——–

4. It follows that U.S. immigration policy is morally wrong.

Before addressing Huemer's argument, some preliminary points need to be made.

A. First, a difficult issue such as the one before us cannot be resolved via some quick little argument like the above.  Numerous considerations and counter-considerations come into play.

B. Here is a consideration in the light of which Huemer's argument has an aura of the fantastic.  The U. S. is a welfare state.  Now no welfare state can hope to survive and meet it commitments to provide all sorts of services at taxpayer expense if it opens its borders wide.  Without trying to estimate the tsunami of humanity that would flood into the country from all sides were immigration restrictions removed, it is clear that open borders is a wildly impractical proposal.  And note that this impracticality itself has moral ramifications: if bona fide citizens have been promised that they will be taken care of by some such system as Social Security into their old age, and the government reneges on its promises because of an empty treasury, then the rights of the retirees will have been violated — which is a moral issue.

If state functions were stripped down to 'night watchman' size as certain libertarians would advocate, then perhaps an open borders policy would be workable; but obviously such a rollback of governmental powers and functions  has no chance of occurring.  Let the quixotic rollback occur; THEN and ONLY THEN we can talk about open borders.  Meanwhile we do have border control, half-hearted as it is.  It is not obviously unjust to those who immigrate legally to allow others in illegally? 

C.  An open borders policy is impractical not only for the reason mentioned, but for many others besides. I catalog some of them in Immigration Legal and Illegal.

Now to Huemer's argument.

I see no reason to accept premise (2) according to which the U. S. government imposes severe harms on people by preventing them from immigrating.  Suppose you have foolishly gone into the desert without proper supplies.  You soon find yourself  in dire need of water.  Coming upon my camp, you enter it and try to take my water.  I prevent you from doing so.  Have I harmed you?  I have not inflicted any harm upon you;  I have merely prevented you from getting something you need for your well-being.  But you have no right to my water, even if I have more than enough.  If you steal my supplies, you violate my property rights; I am therefore morally justified in resisting the theft.  You are morally obliged to respect my property rights, but I am under no moral obligation to give you what you need, especially in light of the fact that you have freely put yourself in harm's way.

Similarly, the U. S. government does not harm those whom it does not allow to enter its territory, for they have no right to enter its territory in the first place, and in so doing violate the property rights of the U. S.

Once this is appreciated it will also be seen why (3) is false.  The U. S. does have a good moral reason to prevent foreigners from entering its territory, namely, to prevent them from violating the property rights of the U. S.

Now at this point I expect someone to object as follows.  "I grant you that illegal aliens are not justified in violating private property rights, but when they cross public lands, travel on public roads, use public facilities, etc. they are not violating any property rights.  The U. S. has no property rights; there are no public property rights that need to be respected." 

This objection is easily rebutted.  It is based on a false analogy with unowned resources. An incursion into an uninhabited region not in the jurisdiction of a state does not violate property rights. But the public lands of the U. S. are within the jurisdiction of the U.S.  These lands are managed and protected by the state which gets the werewithal of such management and protection, and in some instances, the money to pay for the  original acquisition, from coercive taxation.  Thus we taxpayers collectively own these lands.  It is not as if the land, roads, resources and the like of the U.S. which are not privately owned are somehow open to anyone in the world who wants to come here.  Just as an illegal alien violates property rights when he breaks into my house, he violates property rights when he breaks into my country.  For a country belongs collectively to its citizens, not to everyone in the world.

The fundamental point is that foreigners have no right to immigrate.  Since they have no such right, no moral wrong is done to them by preventing them from immigrating even though they would be better off were they to immigrate.  Furthermore, the U.S. government and every government has not only the right, but also the moral obligation, to control its border for the the good of its citizens.  After all, protection from foreign invasion is one of the legitimate functions of government.

 

Robert Oakes Weighs in on the God of the Philosophers

I got a phone call from philosopher of religion Robert Oakes yesterday.  In the course of a lengthy chat, I mentioned my recent post on Pascal and Buber and asked him what he thought of it.  Today I received the following from him by e-mail:

Very good to talk with you.  Short comment on that El Stupido notion of Buber-Pascal. The idea, presumably, is that the God of  Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob  is a proper object of worship, while the God of the Philosophers is  a bloodless abstraction. But, of course, God (for the philosophical  theist) is that than which a greater is metaphysically impossible. So: is a being Who is worthy of worship greater (ceteris paribus) than one who is not? Of course. End of issue, No?

An admirable instance of  pithiness.  Bob's argument could be extended as follows.  A quintessentially philosophical definition of 'God' is the one that derives from Anselm of Canterbury:  God is that than which no greater can be conceived.  Borrowing the phrase 'great-making property' from Plantinga, we can say that God instantiates all great-making properties.  Now being worthy of worship is a great-making property. Because no concept, idea, or abstraction is worthy of worship, it follows from the philosophical definition alone, without appeal to any (putative) revelation or anything from religion, that the God of the philosophers cannot be a concept, idea, or abstraction. 

But not only that.  It also follows from the Anselmian definition that nothing short of a worship-worthy being could be God.  So a First Cause could not count as God for a philosophical theist who operates with the concept of God  in Judeo-Christian monotheism.  Within this tradition the God of philosophy is not different from the God of  religion.  It is the same God, but approached via discursive reason rather than via  faith in revelation.

 

Undocumented Democrats

Despite  the inaptness  of the phrase, liberals call illegal aliens 'undocumented workers.'  'Undocumented Democrats' is equally inapt but better expressive of why liberals are so tolerant of their presence.  If the invaders from the south were potential Republicans, liberal tolerance would morph into its opposite.

Still More on the God of the Philosophers Versus the God of Abraham, et al.

Ken e-mails and I respond in blue:

I turn on my computer and check out the Maverick Philosopher and suddenly half of my day is shot. First I have to look up the word 'pellucidity' and then I am stuck trying to figure out why your claim about the phrases 'God-P' and 'God-R' does not seem right to me.

It sounds like I'm doing something right!  You can look up a word without getting out of your chair.  Here's a tip that you may already be aware of:  type 'define: pellucidity' (without the inverted commas) into the Google search box and you will get a page of definitions, some of them from reputable sources.  (I don't consider Wikipedia a particularly reputable source.) Needless to say, this works for almost any word inserted after the colon and not just for 'pellucidity'!

I agree that the sentence [from Martin Buber], "What the philosophers describe by the name of God cannot be more than an idea," is false but to state that that 'God-P' and 'God-R' have the same referent, if they have a referent, seems false to me as it carries an assumption of the monotheism of the 'God-R' that may not be present in 'God-P.' The idea that there is and can only be one God is one that does not have to be accepted in 'God-P' and I do not believe that it would be possible, except by defining 'God-P' ='God-R', for 'God-P' and 'God-R' to always have the same referent. Maybe you can point out where I am wrong and what I missed.

Well, every discussion occurs within a context, a context  which cannot be ignored or set aside, since the very meaning of the terms of the debate is influenced by the context.  The present immediate context is Pascal's exclamation, "God of Abraham, God of Isaac, God of Jacob — not of the philosophers and scholars"  and Buber's comment thereon.  The Pascalian exclamation and the Buberian comment themselves fit  into a wider context, Judeo-Christian monotheism.  The question before us  is whether, within this Judeo-Christian monotheistic context, there is any merit to the notion that what philosophers qua philosophers talk about and argue for and against is numerically different from what religionists qua religionists talk about and try to relate themselves to. My answer is plain from my earlier posts: this notion has no merit whatsoever.

Your suggestion seems to be that the God(s) of the philosophers needn't be one, but could be many, even if the God of the religionists must be one.  My answer to you is very simple:  in the precise context I have specified, namely, the context of Judeo-Christian monotheism, both the God of the philosophers and the God of the religionists is one.  Polytheism is simply not a Jamesian live option within this tradition and certainly  was not for Pascal and Buber whose utterances provide the immediate context of my remarks.

Of course, there is nothing to stop you or anyone from shifting the context.  Philosophers are free to make a case for polytheism if they care to.   Within the community of polytheists, the question could arise whether the gods of the philosophers (the gods the polytheistic philosophers argue for) are the same as the gods of the religionists (the gods the polytheistic religionists invoke in prayer, etc.)  But that question is not my question.

Note that I am not merely stipulating that 'God-R' and 'God-P' have the same reference.  That would be arbitrary and unmotivated.  What I am doing is unpacking the concept of God what we already have and work with in the Judeo-Christian tradition.  My point is that within this tradition, pace Pascal and Buber and many others, it makes no sense to imagine that what the philosophers are talking about when they talk about God is numerically different from what the religionists talk about when they talk about God.

Finally, none of my discussion presupposes the existence of God.  As I said, I am unpacking the concept of God, and this concept is what it is whether or not it is instantiated.

More on the God of the Philosophers

Spencer Case, 'on the ground' in Afghanistan, e-mails:

Your recent post discussing the God of the philosophers and the God of Abraham and Isaac caught my interest. Having grown up in a religious home, I have always been of the opinion that arguments for theism argue for something different than what believers take themselves to believe in. After all, how many religious people take themselves to be praying to an unmoved mover or a-being-greater-than-which-cannot-be-conceived? For this reason, I have not felt that my atheism could be threatened by any of the arguments for theism, even if they turn out to be successful because they argue not for God but for God*.

No doubt it could be true that you could make an identification between the God of the philosophers and the God of the believers if you have established the existence of both. My point is none of the arguments for the existence of God even try to argue for the God of the believers.

I look forward to hearing your thoughts.

Well, Spencer, it looks as if my earlier post, despite its pellucidity and penetration, made no impression on you.

Let's use 'God-P' to mean 'God of the philosophers' and 'God-R' to mean 'God of the religionists.'  Now my claim is that the two phrases, though the differ in sense, have the same referent, if they have a referent.  Thus I do not assume that they in fact have a common referent; my claim is that, if they have a referent, then they have a common referent.  You are undoubtedly familiar with Frege's distinction between Sinn and Bedeutung.  To use his old example, 'morning star' and 'evening star' have the same referent despite their difference in sense and in mode of presentation (Darstellungsweise).    One and the same celestial body — the planet Venus — is presented in two different ways.  Now in this case we know that the terms 'morning star' and 'evening star' have a common referent whereas in the God case we do not know this.  So my claim is merely that 'God-P' and 'God-R' refer to one and the same entity if they refer to anything.

It may help to distinguish between REFERENCE and REFERENT.  'Meinong's favorite impossible object' and 'the round square' both lack a referent; but they have the same REFERENCE despite their manifest difference in sense.

Therefore, I reject your assertion that one needs to establish the existence of a common referent of 'God-P' and 'God-R' as a condition of establishing that they refer to the same thing if they refer at all. 

Your main argument seems to be as follows:

1.  The philosophical arguments for God are arguments for the existence of God-P, not of God-R.

2.  Religious people qua religious people do not believe in or affirm the existence of God-P, but of God-R. (E.g. religious people who think about God or address God in prayer are not relating to an unmoved mover.)

3.  Atheism is the denial of the existence of God-R.  Therefore:

4.  The philosophical God arguments, even if sound, have no tendency to show that atheism is false.

A very interesting argument!  I reject the argument  by rejecting the assumption on which it is based, namely, that God-P is not identical to God-R.  To the contrary, I claim that they are the same God, albeit approached in different ways.  The philosopher qua philosopher approaches God via discursive reason unassisted by scriptural or other revelation, whereas the religionist approaches God via faith and revelation.  Now it may be (it is epistemically possible that) there is no God; but that does not alter the fact that the REFERENCE of the God-talk of philosophers and that of religionists is the same.

Think about it:  when Aquinas was working out his Five Ways, was he trying to establish the existence of a mere concept or abstract idea?  How could a mere concept create heaven and earth?  Was he trying to prove the existence of something numerically different from the God of the Bible?  Of course not.  Aquinas was a philosopher, a religionist, and a mystic.  It was the same God he was aiming at (and from his point of view, contacting) in his philosophical reasoning, his prayerful devotions, and his mystical experiences.

People get confused by the phrases 'God of the philosophers' and 'God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.'  They think that because the phrases are different, and their senses also, that the phrases cannot have the same reference.  But the reference is the same even if there in is no God.  For the concept of God we are operating with is the concept of a being that satisfies both narrowly philosophical and narrowly religious exigencies.  And this is so whether or not the concept is instantiated.  The philosopher qua  philosopher wants an explanation of the existence and intelligibility of contingent beings and finds his explanation in God, who is the real-ground of existence and intelligibility.  The religionist qua religionist has a soteriological interest: he seeks a solution to our awful predicament in this life, and finds his solution is a relationship with a personal Being.  Now what needs to be understood is that that real-ground and this personal Being are the same.

Or do you think that God can't walk down the street and chew gum at the same time?

Pascal and Buber on the God of the Philosophers

"God of Abraham, God of Isaac, God of Jacob — not of the philosophers and scholars."  Thus exclaimed Blaise Pascal in the famous memorial in which  he recorded the overwhelming religious/mystical experience of the night of 23 November 1654.  Martin Buber comments (Eclipse of God, Humanity Books, 1952, p. 49):

These words represent Pascal's change of heart.  He turned, not from a state of being where there is no God to one where there is a God, but from the God of the philosophers to the God of Abraham.  Overwhelmed by faith, he no longer knew what to do with the God of the philosophers; that is, with the God who occupies a definite position in a definite system of thought.  The God of Abraham . . . is not suspectible of introduction into a system of thought precisely because He is God. He is beyond each and every one of those systems, absolutely and by virtue of his nature.  What the philosophers describe by the name of God cannot be more than an idea. (emphasis added)

Buber Buber here expresses a sentiment often heard.  We encountered it yesterday when we found Timothy Ware accusing late Scholastic theology of turning God into an abstract idea.  But the sentiment is no less wrongheaded for being widespread.  As I see it, it simply makes no sense to oppose the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob — the God of religion — to the God of philosophy.  In fact, I am always astonished when otherwise distinguished thinkers retail this bogus distinction.  Let's try to sort this out.

It is first of all obvious that God, if he exists, transcends every system of human thought, and  cannot be reduced to any element internal to such a system whether it be a concept, a proposition, an argument, a set of arguments, etc.  But by the same token, the chair I am sitting on cannot be reduced to my concept of it or the judgments I make about it.  It too is transcendent of my conceptualizations and judgments.  The transcendence of God, however, is a more radical form of transcendence, that of a person as opposed to that of a material object.  And among persons, God is at the outer limit of transcendence. 

Now if Buber were merely saying something along these lines then I would have no quarrel with him.  But he is saying something more, namely, that when a philosopher in his capacity as philosopher conceptualizes God, he reduces him to a concept or idea, to something abstract, to something merely immanent to his thought, and therefore to something that is not God.  In saying this, Buber commits a grotesque non sequitur.  He moves from the unproblematically true

1. God by his very nature is transcendent of every system of thought or scheme of representation

to the breathtakingly false

2. Any thought about God or representation of God (such as we find, say in Aquinas's Summa Theologica)  is not a thought or representation of God, but of a thought or representation, which, of course, by its very nature is not God.

As I said, I am astonished that anyone could fall into this error.  When I think about something I don't in thinking about it turn it into a mere thought.  When I think about my wife's body, for example, I don't turn it into a mere thought: it remains transcendent of my thought as a material thing.  A fortiori, I am unable by thinking about my wife as a person, an other mind, to transmogrify her personhood into a mere concept in my mind.  She remains in her interiority  delightfully transcendent.

It is therefore bogus to oppose the God of the philosophers to the God of Abraham, et al.  There is and can be only one God.  But there are different approaches to this one God.  By my count, there are four ways of approaching God:  by reason, by faith, by mystical experience, and by our moral sense.  To employ a hackneyed metaphor, if there are four routes to the summit of a mountain, it does not follow that there are four summits, with only one of them being genuine, the others being merely immanent to their respective routes.

I should think that direct acquaintance with God via mystical/religious experience is superior to contact via faith or reason or morality.  It is better to taste food than to read about it on a menu.  But that's not to say that the menu is about itself:  it is about the very same stuff that one encounters by eating.  The fact that it is better to eat food than read about it does not imply that when one is reading one is not reading about it.

Imagine how silly it would be be for me to exclaim, while seated before a delicacy: "Food of Wolfgang Puck, Food of Julia Childs, Food of Emeril Lagasse, not of the nutritionists and menu-writers!"

Varieties of Cyber-Linkage

The symmetrical linker links to every site that links to him. The asymmetrical linker links to no site that links to him. The nonsymmetrical linker may or may not link to a site that links to him.

The totally reflexive linker links to all and only those sites that are identical to his site. The totally reflexive linker is also known as a windowless monad. All his links are internal or on-site. The partially reflexive linker links to himself, but only on condition that some other site links to him. The irreflexive linker links to no site that is identical to his site. All of his links are external or off-site. The transitive linker links to every site that is the target of a link of every site to which he links, and to every site that is the target of the target of every site to which he links, and so on. That way lies madness.

The moderate cyber-onanist is a person with two or more sites all of which are weakly interlinked, where two or more sites are weakly interlinked if and only if each site is symmetrically linked to one of the others. The extreme cyber-onanist is a person with two or more sites, all of which are strongly interlinked, where two or more sites are strongly interlinked if and only if each site is symmetrically linked to each of the others. The solipsistic cyber-onanist is a cyber-onanist (whether extreme or moderate) all of whose links are internal. The incorrigible cyber-onanist is an extreme solipsistic cyber-onanist.

Are Illegal Aliens Acting Immorally?

Victor Reppert raises the question:

People like [Arizona's] Governor Brewer often say that we are a nation of laws, and that is why we must make a strong stand enforcing our immigration laws. Are people who insist on a strong stand against illegal immigration gratuitously assuming that persons who enter the country illegally are acting immorally?  If the only way to support your family was to enter another country illegally, wouldn't you have a moral obligation to break the law, since you have a moral obligation to support your family which trumps your obligation to obey the law?

As a conservative, I find it self-evident that the rule of law is a precious thing, that it must be upheld, and that part of upholding it is enforcing the nation's laws against illegal immigration.  Someone who takes this position, and insists on a strong stand against illegal immigration, needn't thereby assume that every illegal border-crosser is acting immorally.  I concede to Victor that there are circumstances in which the moral obligation to support and protect one's family trumps the moral obligation to respect the laws of another country.

But if it is morally permissible for some to enter illegally, it does not follow that the law making it illegal is without moral justification.  Indeed, the Federal and State authorities have a moral obligation to protect their citizens against the threats posed by border violators.  Juan may be morally justified in attempting to cross the Rio Grande, but border control agents are morally justified in preventing him from doing so and deporting him if he does.  The law cannot cater to each individual case.  In the eyes of the law one is an illegal alien whether one is a common criminal, a member of a criminal gang, a drug trafficker, a human trafficker, a terrorist, a carrier of a contagious disease, or, like Juan, just a poor man down on his luck trying to provide for his family.

The rule of law must be upheld despite the unfairness to some.  One of the reasons we are not not like Mexico, and why everybody and his monkey's uncle's brother wants to come here,  is precisely because we have hitherto maintained the rule of law.  Analogy: it is reasonable and just that felons not be allowed to vote or purchase firearms.  The fact that this is unfair to some felons is not a good reason to question the rightness of the law.  As I said, the law cannot cater to individual cases.  Examples like this can be generated ad libitum.  Consider laws regulating drinking age and driving age.  Fourteen year olds are not allowed to drive despite the fact that some drive better than forty year olds.

East Versus West on the Trinity: The Filioque Controversy

Filioque Controversy Our meeting with the affable and stimulating  Dale Tuggy on June 20th at St. Anthony's Greek Orthodox monastery a little south of Florence, Arizona, got me thinking about the Trinity again.  So I pulled Timothy Ware's The Orthodox Church off the shelf wherein I found a discussion of the differences between the Eastern Orthodox and Roman approaches to the doctrine.  Let's take a look.  Earlier this year, in January and February, we had a stimulating and deep-going discussion of Trinitarian topics which the interested reader can find here.  But there was no discussion of the Orthodox line.  It is high time to fill that lacuna.  (Image credit.)

East and West agree that there is exactly one God in three divine persons, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  They also agree that the Father is neither born of anything nor proceeds from anything, that the Son is born of the Father but does not proceed from the Father, and that the Holy Spirit proceeds but is not born.  Bear in mind that 'born' and 'proceeds' in this context refer to relations that are internal to the triune Godhead, and are therefore eternal relations.  I hope it is also clear that neither of these relations is one of creation.  Each of the persons is eternal and uncreated.

The main difference between East and West concerns that from which the Holy Spirit proceeds.  The West says that the Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father and the Son (filioque), whereas the East says that the Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father alone.  One can of course question whether this dispute has any clear sense, but let's assume that it does for the space of this post.  I don't reckon there are any Stovian or other positivists hanging around this site.  (If there are, I pronounce my anathema upon them.)

The question is whether there is any reason to prefer the one view over the other.  Ware naturally thinks the Orthodox view superior (pp. 219-222).  He thinks it is superior because it is able to account for the unity of the three persons without making of this unity something impersonal.  His reasoning is as follows.  The tripersonal God is one God, not three Gods.  So the question arises as to the unity of the Godhead.  What is the ground of God's unity?  There is one God because there is one Father, the Father being the 'cause' or 'source' of Godhead, the principle (arche) of unity among the three.  The Orthodox speak of the "monarchy of the Father."  The other two persons originate from the Father.  Because the principle of unity is the Father, and the Father is one of the divine persons, the principle of unity is personal in nature.  So although there are three persons in one God, the unity of these three persons is itself a person, namely, the Father.

The Western view, however, issues in the result that the principle of unity is impersonal.  The reasoning is along the following lines.  If the Holy Spirit proceeds eternally from the Father and the Son, then "the Father ceases to be the unique source of Godhead, since the Son is also a source." (219)  Consequently, "…Rome finds its principle of unity in the substance or essence which all three persons share." (219)  This implies that, on the Roman Catholic view, the principle of unity is impersonal.  (I am merely reporting Ware's reasoning here, not endorsing it.)

And that, Ware maintains, is not good.  "Late Scholastic theology, emphasizing as it does the essence at the expense of the persons, comes near to turning God into an abstract idea."  (222)  The concrete and personal God with whom one can have a direct and living encounter gets transmogrified into a God of the philosophers (as opposed to the living God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob), an impersonal being whose existence needs to be proved by metaphysical arguments.

And so the Orthodox "regard the filioque as dangerous and heretical. Filioquism confuses the persons, and destroys the proper balance between unity and diversity in the Godhead." (222) God is stripped of concrete personality and made into an abstract essence.  And that's not all. The Roman view gives the Holy Spirit short shrift with the result that his role in the church and in the lives of believers is downplayed.  What's more, this subordination of the Holy Spirit, together with an overemphasis on the divine unity, has deleterious consequences for ecclesiology.  As a result of filioquism, the church in the West has become too worldly an institution, and the excessive emphasis on divine unity has led to too much centralization and too great an emphasis on papal authority.  It is worth noting in this connection that the Orthodox reject papal infallibility while accepting the infallibility of the church.

You can see, then, that for the Orthodox  the filioque is quite a big deal: it is not a mere theological Spitzfindigkeit.

Ware's exposition — which I assume is a faithful representation of the Orthodox position — saddles filioquism with a nasty dilemma: either ditheism or semi-Sabellianism.  For if the Son as well as the Father is an arche, a principle of unity in the Godhead, then the upshot is ditheism, two-God-ism.  But if it is said that the Spirit proceeds from the Father and the Son tamquam ex/ab uno principio, 'as from one principle,' then, as the Orthodox see it, the Father and the Son are confused and semi-Sabellianism is the upshot.  (221)

Sabellianism or modalism is the view that the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit are modes or aspects of the deity.  The East sees semi-Sabellianism in the West insofar as the Western view, in avoiding ditheism, merges Father and Son into one principle so that they become mere modes or aspect of that one principle.

That's the lay of the land as seen from the East.  I have been concerned in this post with exposition only.  Adjudication can wait for later. (He said magisterially.)

 

John Hick on Religious and Naturalistic Definitions of Religion

Defining 'religion' is not easy. John Hick sees a major division running through the welter of competing definitions:

The major division, as we have already noted, is between religious and naturalistic definitions. According to the former, religion (or a particular religious tradition) centres upon an awareness of and response to a reality that transcends ourselves and our world, whether the 'direction' of transcendence be beyond or within or both. Such definitions presuppose the reality of the intentional object of religious thought and experience; and they are broader or narrower according as this object is characterised more generally, for example as a cosmic power, or more specifically, for example as a personal God. Naturalistic definitions on the other hand describe religion as a purely human activity of state of mind. Such definitions have been phenomenological, psychological and sociological. (An Interpretation of Religion, Yale 1989, p. 3, footnotes omitted, bolding added.)

There is certainly a difference between a religious approach to religion and a naturalistic approach. And Hick is right that it is a major difference. But I suggest that the bolded passage needs correction. It is not that religious definitions of religion presuppose the reality of the intentional object of religious thought and experience, it is rather that they do not foreclose on the possibility of the reality of the intentional object.

When I study religion 'religiously,' what I do is take seriously religion's claim to be about something transcendent of our ordinary  experience. Thus when I study Christianity religiously, I take seriously its claim to be a divine revelation both in and through its Scripture and in and through the person of Jesus of Nazareth. I hold myself open to the possibility of divine revelation. But this is not to say that I presuppose the reality of the triune God.  I simply do not rule out the possibility of the existence and self-revelation of this God in the manner of the naturalist who, from the outset, assumes that religion is and can be nothing but a natural phenomenon, and therefore cannot be revelatory of anything beyond nature.

To put it another way, when I study religion 'religiously' as opposed to 'naturalistically,' I take seriously its claim to be in some measure true. I don't view it merely as just another natural or cultural phenomenon, which of course it also is. To study religion religiously is to study it in a manner analogous to the way we study science. I can of course concern myself with the sociology of scientific knowledge, with the psychology of scientists, and even with the phenomenology of scientific experience.  But few think of natural science as merely a cultural artifact or a psychological product. For most of us, much of (current) science is either true, or a very good approximation to truth. We take physics, for example, to be revelatory of something beyond man and his physics, namely, the natural world which is what it is and has the properties it has whether or not we exist and whether or not we theorize about it. Few would get it into their heads to try to debunk science by explaining it genetically in terms of human fears and interests, the need for some to develop an arcane language-game whereby they can exclude and dominate others, etc. Few would claim that it is nothing but a human product. It is a human product, of course, but it is more: it is knowledge of the natural world.

To study religion religiously is then like studying science scientifically: it is to take the respective truth-claims seriously. But there is an important difference. In the case of science it does seem to be the case that when we study it scientifically (as opposed to viewing it as just another symbolic form or cultural product) we do presuppose the reality of nature. For one thing, nature is massively given to the senses — hyperskeptical worries aside. How could we not presuppose it? But "a reality that transcends ourselves and our world," in Hick's phrase, is not given or at least it is not unambiguously given. (Mystical givenness is an ambiguous givenness.) This is why I say that when we study religion religiously we do not presuppose the reality of the intentional object of religious thought and experience; rather, we do not foreclose on the possibility of the reality of the intentional object.

Modern Media and the Deterioration of Spiritual Life

During my first visit to St. Anthony's Greek Orthodox monastery (Florence, Arizona)  in February 2004, I purchased Harry Boosalis, Orthodox Spiritual Life According to Saint Siloan the Athonite.  What follows is a passage to give users of the new media pause.  It was published in 2000 before blogging really took off, and before texting, YouTube, Facebook, and Twitter:

Writing nearly sixty years ago about the harm of newspapers and base books, one wonders what St. Silouan would say if he lived today. Our world differs markedly from the one in which St. Silouan lived.  In today's 'Age of Information' — and certainly even more in the world of tomorrow — the constant influx from the multiple forms of media can only hinder one's pursuit of true prayer.  These modern forms of 'entertainment' and news media, as well as the much more complex web of world-wide communication systems, including the ever-increasing role of computers and the expanding use (or abuse) of the Internet, have contributed to a fundamental deterioration of spiritual life, as well as an overall  'de-personalization' fo contemporary man and society.  Even well-intentioned believers are now infected with this insatiable desire for more and more frivolous information, futile knowledge, and superficial 'entertainment.'  Ultimately, much of this remains not only useless for one's personal well-being, but according to St. Silouan it also has a direct and negative impact on one's spiritual life. (pp. 67-68)

Monks naturally gravitate towards deserts.  But even in a desert one is not safe from media dreck.  So one must seek out the desert in one's desert. 

 

The Monterey Pop Festival, June 1967

Monterey_pop_72dsi It transpired 43 summers ago, this June, the grandaddy of rock festivals, two years before Woodstock, in what is known as the Summer of Love. Your humble correspondent was on the scene. Some high school friends and I drove up from Los Angeles along Pacific Coast Highway. I can still call up olfactory memories of patchouli, sandalwood incense, not to mention the aroma of what was variously known as cannabis sativa, marijuana, reefer, tea, Miss Green, maryjane, pot, weed, grass, pacalolo (Hawaiian term), loco weed, and just plain dope. But my friends and I, students at an all-boys Catholic high school that enforced a strict dress code, were fairly straight: we partook of no orgies, smoked no dope, and slept in a motel. The wild stuff came later in our lives, when we were better able to handle it.

I have in my hand the programme book of the Festival, in mint condition. Do I hear $1,000? On the first page there is a quotation from Shakespeare, The Merchant of Venice:

 

How sweet the moon-light sleeps upon this bank! Here we sit and let the sounds of music creep in our ears; soft stillness and the night, become the touches of sweet harmony.

Ah yes, I remember it well, the "sweet harmony" of the whining feedback of Jimi Hendrix's Fender Stratocaster plugged into his towering Marshall amps and the "soft stillness" of the The Who smashing their instruments to pieces! Not to be outdone, Jimi lit his Strat on fire with lighter fluid. Jimihendrixmontereykl3 The image is burned into my memory. It shocked my working-class frugality. I used to baby my Fender Mustang and I once got mad at a girl for placing a coke can on my Fender Deluxe Reverb amp. On the last page of the programme book, a more fitting quotation: the lyrics of Dylan's The Times They Are a Changin', perhaps the numero uno '60s anthem to youth and social ferment. Were the utopian fantasies of the '60s just a load of rubbish? Mostly, but not entirely. "Lately it occurs to me, what a long strange trip it's been."

Here is a sample of the proceedings.