And I thought only senior citizens living off Social Security were the ones having to eat dog food.
Cellular Balloons
1.31.2006
1.30.2006
Starts and Spurts
Sure, my posts have been coming in waves. But lately I've been sick with a wicked cold, so in between pseudo-naps (you know, those kind where you're forever stuck in the limbo between consciousness and sleep) I've been getting caught up on grading, lectures, and figuring out what I'll be doing in one of my classes for next month. Oh, and watching waaay too much MST3K and old Simpsons episodes.
This cold has really given me some very, very odd dreams. Don't worry, I won't recall them for you. I'm sure just about everyone has thought at some point or another about what dreaming is supposed to be for, if anything. A while back, philosopher Owen Flanagan (who has done a lot of work in philosophy of mind) came to UGA for a colloquium talk and later spent some time with us (at that time) grad students to talk about his project for this book on dreaming. I haven't read the book (yet), but I remember him basically saying that dreams were epiphenomena or by-products of our minds. They had no adaptive significance (in evolutionary terms), but could nevertheless be significant mirrors of what's happening with us at some pre-/sub-/non-conscious (and non-Freudian) level. Of course, in Scripture dreams (as opposed to visions) have a greater significance as ways in which God communicated to people (prophets, apostles, and heathen kings alike). Even then, they were highly symbolic and usually required interpretation. Can we treat dreams in a similar way today--as a way God still communicates? I would think not, but I'm not sure why I think that.
My head is too stuffy to be able to parse anything out about it right now, and I need to go read Kierkegaard anyway...in which I'll have to parse things out.
This cold has really given me some very, very odd dreams. Don't worry, I won't recall them for you. I'm sure just about everyone has thought at some point or another about what dreaming is supposed to be for, if anything. A while back, philosopher Owen Flanagan (who has done a lot of work in philosophy of mind) came to UGA for a colloquium talk and later spent some time with us (at that time) grad students to talk about his project for this book on dreaming. I haven't read the book (yet), but I remember him basically saying that dreams were epiphenomena or by-products of our minds. They had no adaptive significance (in evolutionary terms), but could nevertheless be significant mirrors of what's happening with us at some pre-/sub-/non-conscious (and non-Freudian) level. Of course, in Scripture dreams (as opposed to visions) have a greater significance as ways in which God communicated to people (prophets, apostles, and heathen kings alike). Even then, they were highly symbolic and usually required interpretation. Can we treat dreams in a similar way today--as a way God still communicates? I would think not, but I'm not sure why I think that.
My head is too stuffy to be able to parse anything out about it right now, and I need to go read Kierkegaard anyway...in which I'll have to parse things out.
1.24.2006
Movie Talk
Nope, this isn't going to be some profound interpretation. After all, it was just Wedding Crashers. Even if there is profound interpretation to be had, I'm not going to wade around to find it. Fairly common story line: Girl has overbearing Jerk Boyfriend whom everyone (but her) loves, Nice Boy meets her and falls in love with Girl, Nice Boy does something he shouldn't have, Nice Boy is exposed, Girl becomes disenchanted, Nice Boy pursues, Girl dumps Jerk Boyfriend, Nice Boy and Girl head off into the sunset, The End. For my money (which I didn't spend anyway, since I borrowed the movie), The Graduate plays out the story line much better. But I like Owen Wilson, and Vince Vaughn is usually a hoot to watch. Vaughn didn't disappoint, and I saw more of Luke Wilson in Owen than I had before, which was perhaps the most interesting part of the movie for me. That, and the song played at the very end of the movie was "Stay With Me" by Rod Stewart's old group, Faces, a song that is on their album I've been listening to lately. It's a dang good song, to be sure, but one thing that struck me was the difference in how the movie portrayed the relationships between the main characters and the relationship between the couple in the song. In the movie, there is a sense of commitment in the relationships. The song, however opens up with the line, "In the morning don't say you love me, 'cause I'll only kick you out of the door"--hardly signifying the presence of long-term commitment. Of course, this isn't an indictment of the movie--I mean, how much attention to that kind of detail can you really expect from the director of Shanghai Knights?
Car Talk
For a couple of months or so now, the driver-side door of my car hasn't been closing all the way. At least not without some excess motivation. Slamming didn't seem to help much. A mule kick to its midsection usually did the trick, but that had been something of a last resort since it might have ended in some dentage. A solid door-close with an extra push at the end was my mainstay, although this had to be repeated repeatedly in order to keep the dome light from staying on.
Anyway, I was heading out to have lunch with one of the Redeemer elders when I noticed, before opening my door, that my dome light was on. Hmmm. The car had been sitting in the parking lot for a couple of days. This had happened before--dome light off when I closed the door, dome light on when I returned for the next outing. Thus far the battery had been a trooper and survived these trying times. Dead battery this time, perhaps? Yep. The poor thing had had enough.
As I was waiting for the elder to pick me up, I made an umteenth inspection of the door. The little button that turns the inside lights off when the door is closed worked. Nothing was protruding from the edges (e.g., little pieces of rubber around the door frame) to get in the way. What have I been missing? Everything looked the same as on the passenger-side door. I jiggled the latch on the inside frame yet again. It looked stable enough. Then, in frustration, I jiggled it harder. It moved! That little rascal had been sticking out just enough to prevent the door from pressing the button all the way. Mr. Philips Head Screwdriver came to the rescue, as did the elder, who was kind enough to jump my car off. Problem solved...finally. I'm just glad it was something simple that I could fix myself without too much time and/or money investment.
Anyway, I was heading out to have lunch with one of the Redeemer elders when I noticed, before opening my door, that my dome light was on. Hmmm. The car had been sitting in the parking lot for a couple of days. This had happened before--dome light off when I closed the door, dome light on when I returned for the next outing. Thus far the battery had been a trooper and survived these trying times. Dead battery this time, perhaps? Yep. The poor thing had had enough.
As I was waiting for the elder to pick me up, I made an umteenth inspection of the door. The little button that turns the inside lights off when the door is closed worked. Nothing was protruding from the edges (e.g., little pieces of rubber around the door frame) to get in the way. What have I been missing? Everything looked the same as on the passenger-side door. I jiggled the latch on the inside frame yet again. It looked stable enough. Then, in frustration, I jiggled it harder. It moved! That little rascal had been sticking out just enough to prevent the door from pressing the button all the way. Mr. Philips Head Screwdriver came to the rescue, as did the elder, who was kind enough to jump my car off. Problem solved...finally. I'm just glad it was something simple that I could fix myself without too much time and/or money investment.
1.21.2006
The Federal Vision (and their shortsighted detractors)
In the mail today I got a recent issue of a little Reformed newsletter. The issue was a reprint of a recent article by David Engelsma that is both something of a review of a recent book called The Federal Vision and something of an attack on its authors. What has come to be called the "Federal Vision" has created quite the controversy in certain Reformed circles over the past several years, to the point that some count it as heresy. (Doing an online search for "federal vision" will bring up enough information on the controversy to choke a horse. Since FV more or less used to be called "Auburn Avenue Theology," perhaps a good place to start, but not end, is their statement on the subject.) I have the book but have yet to read it, so I can't really comment on how charitably Engelsma is reading it; but from what I know about the controversy, its issues, and other things that the authors wrote and said (which is a good bit), I already find much in the article that is uncharitable and just plain nonsense even after a brief and scattered flip-through of the book. (Of course, such a surface scan could be charged against me, and the charge would certainly stick if the subject being discussed in that context were a substantial one, e.g., one regarding interpretation. But, interestingly, much of what rankles me about the Englesma article does not even concern substance, not the least reason for which his criticisms mostly lack it.)
The FV proponents are, broadly speaking, trying to make sense of how Scripture talks about justification, salvation, regeneration, and election in the context of covenant and biblical theology. Sometimes this is different from how systematic theology talks about it. In this division in how we approach soteriology, I have long thought, lies much of the division regarding the FV controversy. The question I keep asking, the question that rears its head repeatedly in the margins of criticisms of FV, is "in what sense?" In what sense of 'justification' does Scripture mean when it (Paul) says that we are justified by grace/faith alone apart from works versus when it (James) says that we are justified by works and not by faith alone? It has been charged against the FV that it condones justification by works, which is (rightly, understood in a certain sense) anathema to Reformed theology. So, what does it mean when James, Paul in Romans, and Schlissel say that the doers of the law--those who are obedient--are justified? Engelsma quotes one sentence (from Schlissel's 24-page essay), "...truly responding to the Law (the Word) in faith does justify," and pronounces this as affirming justification by works, "justification by deeds of obedience to the law."
Okay, fine, but does 'justification' mean the same thing in the way Engelsma is using and the way Schlissel is using it? No. What is anathema about "justification by works"? That you can somehow merit your salvation, that you can somehow do enough to win God's heart. This is what Engelsma has in mind. What does Schlissel have in mind? Well, a cursory glance at the first few pages of the essay will tell you: he quotes from the Westminster standards to the effect that although justification is apart from works it is always attended by works in the form of obedience. In this second sense, then, justification, then, includes obedience. Faith and obedience are inextricably linked in justification. This is what James means when he says that we, like Abraham, are justified by our works/obedience (interestingly, Paul in Romans cites Abraham as our model for justification by faith apart from works!). So, the bad way to take 'justification by works' is for works to be meritorious, for them to be conditions that must be fulfilled in order for us to be made right with God. The good way to take 'justification by works' is for them to be conditions that must be fulfilled for us to stay in God's favor. Obedience does not make us right with God--only God can do that--but it is what we do because we are right with God. It is in this second sense that FV focuses on the connection rather than the separation of justification and obedience/works. Yet it is plain that the way Engelsma (mis)reads Schlissel is with regard to the first sense. (Further evidence for this being a mireading is that in no fewer than three places I found Schlissel clearly denying this sense of 'justification by works'--and that from only skimming the essay! Ridiculous.)
Another related set of criticisms by Engelsma is that FV makes election/salvation conditional and makes God's grace resistible (that is, one can lose his salvation). A large part of what stands behind these criticisms is FV's claims about what it means to be united to Christ. FV repeatedly claims that through baptism one becomes a member of God's covenant, part of which means one is united to the Body of Christ and to Christ Himself, that one is grafted as a branch into the vine of Christ (John 15) and nourished thereby. Yet some covenant members turn out to be non-elect--they fall away from the grace of God (Paul's wording in Galatians). Two things we should notice here. First, does it make sense to say that they "turn out to be" non-elect? Were they elect at one point in time and then became non-elect in another? Well, not from God's perspective. From His point of view, everyone is always and ever either elect or non-elect. It just so happens that we don't have God's point of view, except where He decides to make it known. Drawing a distinction between these two perspectives--ours and God's--is something that FV wants to do with regard to much of what Scripture says. That is, most of the time when the biblical authors are talking about salvation, grace, faith, etc., they are doing so from our perspective (which turns out, on FV's interpretation, to be a covenantal perspective) rather than from God's. Yet, what systematic theology attempts to do much of the time is to understand things from God's perspective, from an eternal or "eschatalogical" standpoint. So, when critics of FV say that it is going against the heart of the gospel or against Reformed theology or the Westminster standards or whatever, they mean this from the standpoint of systematics. Which, in a sense, is true of FV since they are approaching the same thing from a very different (but no less biblical) perspective!
There are plenty of tough places in Scripture that suggest a conditional salvation. Here are just two that come to mind:
In order to not whitewash over such passages, FV claims that in some sense covenant members are sanctified by the blood of Christ, have new life by the Holy Spirit, etc. Yet, some covenant members fall away and cannot be renewed to repentance. Does this mean that people can lose their salvation? That people can really and truly fall away from grace? Well, it depends on what we mean by 'salvation' and 'grace.' From the God's-eye perspective, clearly not; God's eternal decrees about who receives saving grace cannot be thwarted by the wills of men. Yet how those decrees get worked out is another matter. If we see the sacraments as being truly efficacious in a covenantally binding sense, then baptism really does bring us into the grace of God. It really does unite us to Christ and all the benefits that come from that. This is how we should view baptism from our perspective, which, FV insists, is the perspective that the biblical authors are most concerned about. Yet detractors consistently impose systematic categories (i.e., the God's-eye perspective) on FV authors who are trying to make sense of a covenantal perpective understanding of these things. For instance, Engelsma claims that since FV says that those who are united to Christ can fall away from God's grace through disobedience, this must mean that God's grace is resistible and that God's election can be thwarted by the wills of men. But this charge is only good if being united to Christ, grace, and election are understood in systematic categories or from God's eternal perspective; and this is most definitely not the perspective that FV is trying to make sense of.
It's getting late and this is already too long, but the rest of the article is pretty much just more of the same. At the end of the article, either Engelsma or the sender of the newsletter (I can't tell which) says that "it behooves every pastor and elder, the overseers of their flocks, to study and assess the now conflicting view that are being proposed regarding the nature of justification." I agree. But for years, such study and assessment is precisely what I have not seen. What I have seen is what this Engelsma article gives me: strawman fallacies on every street corner at best and enough equivocation to choke a heretic at worst. Attempts by FV to understand soteriology from a biblical/covenantal theology perspective are met with cries of "But that's not how systematic theology puts it!" Um, that's the point. Uh-huh is met with Nuh-uh, and very little gets accomplished in the meantime. Attempts by FV to show that systematics is just not capturing all Scripture has to offer are met with such patently false and ad hominem claims (by Engelsma) like "The Reformed creeds mean nothing to these [authors of The Federal Vision]." Heck, I've only read part of one of the essays, and half of what I read was quoting the Westminster standards in defense of his position! Such reckless libel is, quite simply, pathetic.
The answer to all of this nonsense? A good start would be for the FV proponents to make better sense out of the covenantal sense in which they say we should read the soteriological statements of Scripture (which, for all I know, The Federal Vision does) and for the detractors to take their fingers out of their ears and quit screaming "Systematics! Systematics!" quite so loudly. An inside voice would work just as well.
The FV proponents are, broadly speaking, trying to make sense of how Scripture talks about justification, salvation, regeneration, and election in the context of covenant and biblical theology. Sometimes this is different from how systematic theology talks about it. In this division in how we approach soteriology, I have long thought, lies much of the division regarding the FV controversy. The question I keep asking, the question that rears its head repeatedly in the margins of criticisms of FV, is "in what sense?" In what sense of 'justification' does Scripture mean when it (Paul) says that we are justified by grace/faith alone apart from works versus when it (James) says that we are justified by works and not by faith alone? It has been charged against the FV that it condones justification by works, which is (rightly, understood in a certain sense) anathema to Reformed theology. So, what does it mean when James, Paul in Romans, and Schlissel say that the doers of the law--those who are obedient--are justified? Engelsma quotes one sentence (from Schlissel's 24-page essay), "...truly responding to the Law (the Word) in faith does justify," and pronounces this as affirming justification by works, "justification by deeds of obedience to the law."
Okay, fine, but does 'justification' mean the same thing in the way Engelsma is using and the way Schlissel is using it? No. What is anathema about "justification by works"? That you can somehow merit your salvation, that you can somehow do enough to win God's heart. This is what Engelsma has in mind. What does Schlissel have in mind? Well, a cursory glance at the first few pages of the essay will tell you: he quotes from the Westminster standards to the effect that although justification is apart from works it is always attended by works in the form of obedience. In this second sense, then, justification, then, includes obedience. Faith and obedience are inextricably linked in justification. This is what James means when he says that we, like Abraham, are justified by our works/obedience (interestingly, Paul in Romans cites Abraham as our model for justification by faith apart from works!). So, the bad way to take 'justification by works' is for works to be meritorious, for them to be conditions that must be fulfilled in order for us to be made right with God. The good way to take 'justification by works' is for them to be conditions that must be fulfilled for us to stay in God's favor. Obedience does not make us right with God--only God can do that--but it is what we do because we are right with God. It is in this second sense that FV focuses on the connection rather than the separation of justification and obedience/works. Yet it is plain that the way Engelsma (mis)reads Schlissel is with regard to the first sense. (Further evidence for this being a mireading is that in no fewer than three places I found Schlissel clearly denying this sense of 'justification by works'--and that from only skimming the essay! Ridiculous.)
Another related set of criticisms by Engelsma is that FV makes election/salvation conditional and makes God's grace resistible (that is, one can lose his salvation). A large part of what stands behind these criticisms is FV's claims about what it means to be united to Christ. FV repeatedly claims that through baptism one becomes a member of God's covenant, part of which means one is united to the Body of Christ and to Christ Himself, that one is grafted as a branch into the vine of Christ (John 15) and nourished thereby. Yet some covenant members turn out to be non-elect--they fall away from the grace of God (Paul's wording in Galatians). Two things we should notice here. First, does it make sense to say that they "turn out to be" non-elect? Were they elect at one point in time and then became non-elect in another? Well, not from God's perspective. From His point of view, everyone is always and ever either elect or non-elect. It just so happens that we don't have God's point of view, except where He decides to make it known. Drawing a distinction between these two perspectives--ours and God's--is something that FV wants to do with regard to much of what Scripture says. That is, most of the time when the biblical authors are talking about salvation, grace, faith, etc., they are doing so from our perspective (which turns out, on FV's interpretation, to be a covenantal perspective) rather than from God's. Yet, what systematic theology attempts to do much of the time is to understand things from God's perspective, from an eternal or "eschatalogical" standpoint. So, when critics of FV say that it is going against the heart of the gospel or against Reformed theology or the Westminster standards or whatever, they mean this from the standpoint of systematics. Which, in a sense, is true of FV since they are approaching the same thing from a very different (but no less biblical) perspective!
There are plenty of tough places in Scripture that suggest a conditional salvation. Here are just two that come to mind:
He has now reconciled you in His fleshly body through death, in order to present you before Him holy and blameless and beyond reproach--if indeed you continue in the faith firmly established and steadfast, and not moved away from the hope of the gospel.... (Colossians 1:22-23)So, my being reconciled in Christ and being blameless before God is conditional upon my continuing in the faith? What FV attempts to do is make sense out statements like these without beating around the bush or trying to make Scripture say less than it is. Paul clearly says IF; so what are we going to do (think) about it? We could think about it from our (covenantal) perspective: God brought you into His household of faith; but if you fail to continue in that faith, you lose your connection with Christ (who is the ground of our faith and hope) and are severed from any hope of salvation (for in Christ alone is our salvation). So, in this sense, the way we remain in the household of God is to be obedient and faithful servants. It is in this sense that we are to make our calling and election sure. The Hebrews passage contains very strong language, language that we typically (in our systematic, but not necessarily mistaken, mindset) take to refer only to the eternally elect. Yet here such language clearly refers to those who turn out to be eternally non-elect. What are we going to do (think) about it? We could think about it from our (covenantal) perspective: when we united to the Body of Christ in a covenantal way in becoming baptized members of the Church, we share in the blessings that God bestows upon His corporate people.
For in the case of those who have once been enlightened and have tasted of the heavenly gift and have been made partakers of the Holy Spirit, and have tasted the good word of God and the powers of the age to come, and then have fallen away, it is impossible to renew them again to repentance.... (Hebrews 6:4-6)
In order to not whitewash over such passages, FV claims that in some sense covenant members are sanctified by the blood of Christ, have new life by the Holy Spirit, etc. Yet, some covenant members fall away and cannot be renewed to repentance. Does this mean that people can lose their salvation? That people can really and truly fall away from grace? Well, it depends on what we mean by 'salvation' and 'grace.' From the God's-eye perspective, clearly not; God's eternal decrees about who receives saving grace cannot be thwarted by the wills of men. Yet how those decrees get worked out is another matter. If we see the sacraments as being truly efficacious in a covenantally binding sense, then baptism really does bring us into the grace of God. It really does unite us to Christ and all the benefits that come from that. This is how we should view baptism from our perspective, which, FV insists, is the perspective that the biblical authors are most concerned about. Yet detractors consistently impose systematic categories (i.e., the God's-eye perspective) on FV authors who are trying to make sense of a covenantal perpective understanding of these things. For instance, Engelsma claims that since FV says that those who are united to Christ can fall away from God's grace through disobedience, this must mean that God's grace is resistible and that God's election can be thwarted by the wills of men. But this charge is only good if being united to Christ, grace, and election are understood in systematic categories or from God's eternal perspective; and this is most definitely not the perspective that FV is trying to make sense of.
It's getting late and this is already too long, but the rest of the article is pretty much just more of the same. At the end of the article, either Engelsma or the sender of the newsletter (I can't tell which) says that "it behooves every pastor and elder, the overseers of their flocks, to study and assess the now conflicting view that are being proposed regarding the nature of justification." I agree. But for years, such study and assessment is precisely what I have not seen. What I have seen is what this Engelsma article gives me: strawman fallacies on every street corner at best and enough equivocation to choke a heretic at worst. Attempts by FV to understand soteriology from a biblical/covenantal theology perspective are met with cries of "But that's not how systematic theology puts it!" Um, that's the point. Uh-huh is met with Nuh-uh, and very little gets accomplished in the meantime. Attempts by FV to show that systematics is just not capturing all Scripture has to offer are met with such patently false and ad hominem claims (by Engelsma) like "The Reformed creeds mean nothing to these [authors of The Federal Vision]." Heck, I've only read part of one of the essays, and half of what I read was quoting the Westminster standards in defense of his position! Such reckless libel is, quite simply, pathetic.
The answer to all of this nonsense? A good start would be for the FV proponents to make better sense out of the covenantal sense in which they say we should read the soteriological statements of Scripture (which, for all I know, The Federal Vision does) and for the detractors to take their fingers out of their ears and quit screaming "Systematics! Systematics!" quite so loudly. An inside voice would work just as well.
An Absurd Drama
I went to the Habitat For Humanity store this afternoon to look for some drawers for something I'm building. It's a ramshackled pit of piles, boxes, and barrels dirty, crappy stuff and service from the devil himself--but you can find some good deals. So, I get there and find what I'm looking for and then begin the journey to find someone I can haggle with about the price. I stand at the doorway into the loading dock area where hangs the sign "Employees Only." People see me, standing there obviously waiting for someone to acknowledge my presence and ask me what I want. Nothing. I look at them. They look at me. They look at the TV. I look at the TV. Finally, I ask them if there's someone who can help me with pricing. A guy in a blue plaid shirt turns around, points behind me to two older men standing there talking to each other, says one of the guys' names, and tells me that he can help me or that the guy (out of my range of vision) who is walking to the dock could help me. He then turns back around. I'm obviously not getting any more help out of him today.
The second guy he mentioned (wearing one-piece work coveralls) walks across my line of vision, not looking at me, of course, since he doesn't know why I'm standing there. But Blue Plaid knows why I'm standing there. Does he say anything to Coveralls about helping me out? Nope. He just sits there while Coveralls goes about his business helping some people at the dock. So, I wait patiently for him to finish or for Blue Plaid to say something to him. Two minutes. Five minutes. Fat Girl, who seems to be with Blue Plaid and who witnessed the whole help-me-with-pricing conversation, occasionally looks at me, but does nothing except watch TV and chew gum. What the heck to they think I'm standing there for? Eventually Coveralls jumps down off the dock to help someone else, and I go in search for Old Guy to help me.
I walk up to Old Guy and ask him if he can tell me about the prices of this stuff. He just stares at me for about 5 seconds. Then he points to something next to us, looks at it, then looks at me, still pointing. And that's it. What the heck? I look obviously confused, but he does nothing to help ease my confusion--but he continues to point. By this time I'm definitely frustrated and definitely about to go mediaeval on somebody. I tell him that he's not making a bit of sense, that I asked him about prices, and that instead he just points. After a couple more incoherent exchanges, I get to the bottom of it: he's not the Old Guy that Blue Plaid was pointing to after all. Great. Now in search for Old Guy #2, who, after a few minutes of wandering around, is of course nowhere to be found...
I genuinely do not understand the actions and reactions of any of the players in this absurd drama.
The second guy he mentioned (wearing one-piece work coveralls) walks across my line of vision, not looking at me, of course, since he doesn't know why I'm standing there. But Blue Plaid knows why I'm standing there. Does he say anything to Coveralls about helping me out? Nope. He just sits there while Coveralls goes about his business helping some people at the dock. So, I wait patiently for him to finish or for Blue Plaid to say something to him. Two minutes. Five minutes. Fat Girl, who seems to be with Blue Plaid and who witnessed the whole help-me-with-pricing conversation, occasionally looks at me, but does nothing except watch TV and chew gum. What the heck to they think I'm standing there for? Eventually Coveralls jumps down off the dock to help someone else, and I go in search for Old Guy to help me.
I walk up to Old Guy and ask him if he can tell me about the prices of this stuff. He just stares at me for about 5 seconds. Then he points to something next to us, looks at it, then looks at me, still pointing. And that's it. What the heck? I look obviously confused, but he does nothing to help ease my confusion--but he continues to point. By this time I'm definitely frustrated and definitely about to go mediaeval on somebody. I tell him that he's not making a bit of sense, that I asked him about prices, and that instead he just points. After a couple more incoherent exchanges, I get to the bottom of it: he's not the Old Guy that Blue Plaid was pointing to after all. Great. Now in search for Old Guy #2, who, after a few minutes of wandering around, is of course nowhere to be found...
I genuinely do not understand the actions and reactions of any of the players in this absurd drama.
1.15.2006
Kierkegaard in Perspective
I have a new-found respect for Kierkegaard. He is considered a Christian existentialist and is best known for advocating a "leap of faith" to God. Before last spring (when we read some of his works in my existentialism class), what I'd read of Kierkegaard didn't seem all that Christian--at least not very orthodox, which is what interests me. When folks recite his most well-known and important works, they list titles like Either/Or, Fear and Trembling, and Concluding Unscientific Postscript. These are supposed to give us some insight into what Kierkegaard thought about things.
But Kierkegaard won't be boxed in so easily. The fact is that these works were written under pseudonyms that he created. This might not sound all that consequential, but it has everything to do with understanding him. For Kierkegaard, these pseudonyms were his "poetical creations," complete with their own worldview, voice, motivations, and perspective. They were not just Kierkegaard putting his voice in another name; they were Kierkegaard putting a different voice in another creation. He adamantly distances himself from what these pseudonyms wrote, going so far as to claim (at the end of Concluding Unscientific Postscript, where he confessed that he was the "author"--in a legal sense--of the pseudonymous works) that he had "no opinion of them except as a third party, no knowledge of their meaning except as a reader, and not even the most tenuous private connection to them." As he says in The Point of View for My Work as an Author, the point of these works was not to give his voice, but to shatter the illusions of the reader and to get the reader to reflect upon himself, his own subjectivity, rather than try to rationalize everything.
At the same time that he was publishing these "aesthetical" works, he was also publishing his "religious" works, which were published under his own name and were meant to be his voice. In these works, he wanted to get the reader to relate his subjectivity to God, to stress that what was important was one's relationship to God (and not the number of true propositions about God one could amass). Over and over again, he says that the problem he is tackling in his works taken as a whole and from beginning to end is "how to become a Christian." The thing is--a thing as true now as it was when all of these works were published--no one really pays attention to the religious works but instead look to his pseudonymous works to find out 'what Kierkegaard thinks.' The problem is that you won't find what Kierkegaard thinks in those works. He says,
What is perhaps just as (if not more) interesting is that he sees his use of pseudonyms as a literary device conceived for a particular purpose. In order to shatter illusions, he thought that "direct communication"--telling people straightaway what you want them to understand--was simply not going to cut it. Direct communication, he thought, "presupposes that the receiver's ability to receive is undisturbed. But here such is not the case; an illusion stands in the way." His method of "indirect communication" is much more in line with the dialogue as a literary form and pedagogical tool. Kierkegaard was very much a respecter of Socrates' method of questioning his interlocutors rather than coming out and giving "the answer" in Plato's dialogues. Just as Plato (and Socrates) never came out and told us what he thought but instead used the characters in a dialogue as a way to make us think about what was being said rather than about what authority was saying it, so Kierkegaard used the 'characters' of his pseudonyms as a way of counterbalancing what was being said by him in his religious works. A dialogue on a grander scale.
Kierkegaard claimed that the deeper significance of his pseudonymous works was that they were an intentional deception. However,
But Kierkegaard won't be boxed in so easily. The fact is that these works were written under pseudonyms that he created. This might not sound all that consequential, but it has everything to do with understanding him. For Kierkegaard, these pseudonyms were his "poetical creations," complete with their own worldview, voice, motivations, and perspective. They were not just Kierkegaard putting his voice in another name; they were Kierkegaard putting a different voice in another creation. He adamantly distances himself from what these pseudonyms wrote, going so far as to claim (at the end of Concluding Unscientific Postscript, where he confessed that he was the "author"--in a legal sense--of the pseudonymous works) that he had "no opinion of them except as a third party, no knowledge of their meaning except as a reader, and not even the most tenuous private connection to them." As he says in The Point of View for My Work as an Author, the point of these works was not to give his voice, but to shatter the illusions of the reader and to get the reader to reflect upon himself, his own subjectivity, rather than try to rationalize everything.
At the same time that he was publishing these "aesthetical" works, he was also publishing his "religious" works, which were published under his own name and were meant to be his voice. In these works, he wanted to get the reader to relate his subjectivity to God, to stress that what was important was one's relationship to God (and not the number of true propositions about God one could amass). Over and over again, he says that the problem he is tackling in his works taken as a whole and from beginning to end is "how to become a Christian." The thing is--a thing as true now as it was when all of these works were published--no one really pays attention to the religious works but instead look to his pseudonymous works to find out 'what Kierkegaard thinks.' The problem is that you won't find what Kierkegaard thinks in those works. He says,
Supposing that such a reader understands perfectly and appraises critically the individual aesthetic productions, he will nevertheless totally misunderstand me, inasmuch as he does not understand the religious totality in my whole work as an author. Suppose, then, that another understands my works in the totality of their religious reference, but does not understand a single one of the aesthetic productions contained in them--I would say that this lack of understanding is not an essential lack.Wow. Insofar as people continue to focus on the aesthetical works (which they do) and ignore the religious works (which they do), they will continue to "totally misunderstand" Kierkegaard. This seems like a pretty serious interpretive shortcoming on the part of Kierkegaard readers. (At least those readers in "the public." I'm not privy to the orientation of Kierkegaard scholars, or scholars in general for that matter.)
What is perhaps just as (if not more) interesting is that he sees his use of pseudonyms as a literary device conceived for a particular purpose. In order to shatter illusions, he thought that "direct communication"--telling people straightaway what you want them to understand--was simply not going to cut it. Direct communication, he thought, "presupposes that the receiver's ability to receive is undisturbed. But here such is not the case; an illusion stands in the way." His method of "indirect communication" is much more in line with the dialogue as a literary form and pedagogical tool. Kierkegaard was very much a respecter of Socrates' method of questioning his interlocutors rather than coming out and giving "the answer" in Plato's dialogues. Just as Plato (and Socrates) never came out and told us what he thought but instead used the characters in a dialogue as a way to make us think about what was being said rather than about what authority was saying it, so Kierkegaard used the 'characters' of his pseudonyms as a way of counterbalancing what was being said by him in his religious works. A dialogue on a grander scale.
Kierkegaard claimed that the deeper significance of his pseudonymous works was that they were an intentional deception. However,
One must not let oneself be deceived by the word 'deception'. [HA!] One can deceive a person for the truth's sake, and (to recall old Socrates) one can deceive a person into the truth. Indeed, it is only by this means, i.e., by deceiving him, that it is possible to bring into the truth one who is in an illusion.I'm not completely certain what he means by "deceiving into the truth," but I think it is akin to a reductio ad absurdum argument--assuming the opponent's position in order to show that it is problematic. It is a deception of a sort to start off agreeing with the opponent's position, since you don't agree with it at all! But why do you start off by agreeing with it? In order to show that something is terribly wrong with it--which ends up being consistent with your actual position! Kierkegaard says that the person to whom he is writing is "under the allusion that the aesthetic is Christianity; for, he thinks, I am a Christian, and yet he lives in aesthetic [rather than religious] categories." Now, I'm not sure what all is included in "aesthetic categories," but he plainly does not believe that that is what Christianity is about. "The deception consists in the fact that one talks thus merely to get to the religious theme." This is where Kierkegaard wants to end up--at the religious. He does so by showing how thinking about Christianity from an aesthetic point of view just leads to problems.
Speaking of ear protection, I went to the ear doctor a couple/few weeks ago. Besides learning more about the anatomy of ciliae, he didn't have much to say. From now on, I need to wear ear protection at loud events like concerts. (Hey, who's that dork with the flourescent orange ear plugs?) Whatever level my hearing reaches after 6 months, that's pretty much as good as it's going to get. I've still got the ringing, which it seems will be with me til I have shuffled off this mortal coil. He wants me to have some hearing tests done, and then depending on how those go possibly have a hearing aid consultation. Yikes!
Squirrel Shirts
Rob and I went squirrel hunting again this afternoon. (Yes, I wore ear protection--even though we didn't shoot our pistols this time.) I got two of the little critters. Just got finished roasting them in the oven. I wonder what a BBQ squirrel sandwich would taste like... There is a way of skinning them where (after some precision cutting) you can step on their tails, grab their hind legs, and pull their skin right over their heads. It's like taking off a squirrel skin shirt. So cool!
My great grandfather used to eat squirrel brains with scrambled eggs. I don't mind saying--that's nasty! I hear that the best way to get their brains is to boil their heads so that it's easier to crack their skulls. Um, I don't think so. (No, Colin, I did not save the heads.) Crawfish brains--let me at 'em. Squirrel brains--let the ants have 'em.
My great grandfather used to eat squirrel brains with scrambled eggs. I don't mind saying--that's nasty! I hear that the best way to get their brains is to boil their heads so that it's easier to crack their skulls. Um, I don't think so. (No, Colin, I did not save the heads.) Crawfish brains--let me at 'em. Squirrel brains--let the ants have 'em.
1.06.2006
More Metaphors (and allusions just for fun)
I kegged the nut brown ale last night. Even though the beer is as of now like unto a 12-year old girl--flat and immature--she truly is remarkable. Once she ages, she will blossom nicely into the nut-brown beauty I fashioned her to be. (You are all invited to the coming-of-age ceremony--which will not involve mutilation, but rather consume-ation. Unfortunately, we missed Coming of Age Day this passed Monday.) I think I may have exceeded my expectations and am excited to see how my creation turns out--I just hope I haven't miscalculated somewhere along the way, only to have the monster repay me for my arrogance...
Wisdom and Folly
Although most (I should think) focus on the many chapters of aphorisms in Proverbs, one of the most remarkable sections to me is the first nine chapters. It is set up as the passing along of godly wisdom from a father to his son/children--I don't know if this was meant to be a literary device, but one literary device that struck me as interesting is the parallelism in Chapter 9, how the personification of wisdom as a woman and the woman of folly are compared and contrasted. Wisdom prepares her enticing feast (9:2)--as does the woman of folly (implied in 9:17). Wisdom cries out from the highest place of the city, the most visible place, to the simple, the naive, to those who lack understanding (9:3-4)--as does the woman of folly (9:14-16). Both want to entice. Both want to draw in those who lack wisdom and understanding. Both want to change them, yet in different ways: Wisdom seeks to fill the lack of understanding (9:6), the woman of folly wants to make straight paths crooked (9:15). As a young man journeying through town, hearing these women speak the same words, which shall you choose? Into whose house will you go? How often we choose stolen water (9:17) over sweet, heady wine (9:5)! How often we choose to sup on the bread of our sin in secret (9:17) rather than take in the richer fare of righteousness! We do not see--we do not want to see!--that the dead are the guests in the house of the woman of folly, that her doors are the gates to hell (9:18). Sin is deceitful like the woman of folly, it entices us with luscious offers but can offer only death in the end. That's why we need instruction from those wiser than we. That's why we need nine chapters of this refrain: forsake folly and seek after the wisdom from God.
I need to re-read John Owen's Mortification of Sin.
I need to re-read John Owen's Mortification of Sin.
1.05.2006
In other non-intellectual news, I brewed another batch of beer last Thursday: a nut brown ale. (Similar to Samuel Smith's Nut Brown Ale or Newcastle's Brown Ale.) It's finished fermenting and is ready to be kegged, but first I need to bottle what's left of my chocolate oatmeal stout (which is not much) so I'll have a keg free. What fun! Nothing quite like a rewarding hobby...
Christian Philosophers
The RUF at here at UGA began a Christian worldview series this past fall. The idea is to have Christians from different academic disciplines talk about how to approach and practice that discipline in a Christian manner. The first talk was on literature. I'll be giving the second one, on philosophy, in a few weeks. As I've been thinking and reading in preparation for it, I ran across this paper by Christian philosopher Alvin Plantinga. His main point in the paper is to offer some advice on how to approach philosophy in a distinctively Christian way. When I came across this statement, "Christian philosophers, however, are part of the Christian community; and it is part of their task as Christian philosophers to serve the Christian community," I was struck with shame. As much as I've attempted--and continue the essay--to approach philosophical issues in a Christian way (thanks to an early influence from Christian philosophers Cornelius Van Til and Greg Bahnsen), I have very nearly ignored the potential service I could bring to the Christian community. I have thought very little about what possible contributions I could make and even less about how to practically carry them through. I have used the word "could," but Plantinga goes further, saying that it is part of my task as a Christian philosopher. It is not just something I could do--it is something I should do.
In a similar vein, I've been reading a series by Michael S. Horton where he applies a covenantal framework to various theological and philosophical issues. (The first book, which I've read twice, is Covenant and Eschatology, the second is Lord and Servant, and the third will be coming out sometime in the near future.) I've never read anything by Horton, mainly because I've known him for putting out books of popular theology and, for whatever reasons, have tended to steer clear of such reading. Generally, it just doesn't interest me much. This series, however, is some of the most serious academic and intellectual piece of scholarship I've seen in a while (not that I've seen a lot, mind you). Simply, it is a successful and stimulating attempt at developing and articulating a distinctively Christian (specifically, Reformed) approach to some very difficult and pressing contemporary theologico-philosophical problems. I have greatly benefitted from it, and it has spurred me to think more creatively and biblically about how to approach philosophy as a Christian philosopher. Highly recommended to those interested in biblical and philosophical theology.
In a similar vein, I've been reading a series by Michael S. Horton where he applies a covenantal framework to various theological and philosophical issues. (The first book, which I've read twice, is Covenant and Eschatology, the second is Lord and Servant, and the third will be coming out sometime in the near future.) I've never read anything by Horton, mainly because I've known him for putting out books of popular theology and, for whatever reasons, have tended to steer clear of such reading. Generally, it just doesn't interest me much. This series, however, is some of the most serious academic and intellectual piece of scholarship I've seen in a while (not that I've seen a lot, mind you). Simply, it is a successful and stimulating attempt at developing and articulating a distinctively Christian (specifically, Reformed) approach to some very difficult and pressing contemporary theologico-philosophical problems. I have greatly benefitted from it, and it has spurred me to think more creatively and biblically about how to approach philosophy as a Christian philosopher. Highly recommended to those interested in biblical and philosophical theology.
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