Was there a papacy in the early church?

There's been a lot of discussion of the papacy lately on some popular YouTube channels. For example, Cameron Bertuzzi recently had Joe Heschmeyer and Jimmy Akin of Catholic Answers on his channel, along with some Protestants arguing for the other side. Here's a good one-hour summary, from Gavin Ortlund, of the problems with arguments for the papacy. The Other Paul has been producing a lot of good material on the subject as well, often with Geoff Robinson. Steven Nemes has been making a lot of significant points, such as in this recent video on Matthew 16 and Isaiah 22. You can find collections of our posts on these issues here and by clicking on the relevant post labels, like Papacy.

"The priority of tradition"

I'm going to comment on an article by Steven Nemes:

https://www.degruyter.com/downloadpdf/j/opth.2017.3.issue-1/opth-2017-0022/opth-2017-0022.pdf

Notice what follows from this: if the biblical texts only had human authors who are now long dead, inaccessible as such to those who do not consort with witches, it would follow that the interpretation of the biblical texts is also at best only ever probable and thus subject to the same kind of fundamentally nonreligious hermeneutical pragmatism. 

A glaring problem with this statement is that it's basically self-refuting. Look at all the dead authors that Nemes quotes in his article to support his thesis. A century from now, Nemes will be dead. So his skepticism about the written medium, or dead authors, sabotages his appeal to the writings of dead writers–whose company he himself will join in due time.  

The direction of the dialectic until this point naturally leads to the following question: given the intrinsic uncertainty and danger of reading the biblical texts, what “mechanism” has Christ established for the perpetuation of the true teachings of the Scriptures? What abiding bridge has He constructed for enabling readers to traverse the gap between the biblical text and the Scriptures? 

His answer will be "the Church". But one problem with that appeal is that when Jesus talks about building his ecclesia (Mt 16:18), that word, and traditional translations thereof (e.g. "church"), has acquired connotations that it didn't have at the time Matthew published his Gospel, much less when Jesus originally made his statement. Catholics, Orthodox, and other high-churchmen treat the "church" in NT usage as a cipher for models of ecclesiology that only evolved centuries later. Indeed, in the case of Roman Catholicism, the nature of "the Church" is still undergoing theological development. 

Similar considerations apply to the suggestion of some kind of inward activity of the Holy Spirit: so long as no objective means by which the Spirit leads the interpretation of the Church is specified, anybody with any proposed interpretation can claim the Holy Spirit as her guide. 

The presence of Christ, through the Holy Spirit, as Teacher of the Church, is therefore extended through the apostles to those who would succeed them, who in turn would exercise a particular authority in the presentation and interpretation of that doctrine which is imprinted on their hearts. 

Notice that Nemes is oblivious to the tensions in his own appeal. Indeed, "anybody with any proposed interpretation can claim the Holy Spirit as her guide." But that applies perforce to popes, medieval mystics, and ecumenical councils as well as laymen or modern-day "prophets". That applies perforce to religious movements and institutions as well as individuals. 

Or, as St. Ignatius of Antioch put it, the bishops are the mind of Christ throughout the world, just as Christ is to Christians the mind of the Father (Letter to the Ephesians 3:2).

i) Yet Ignatius is one of those dead writers. So how can Nemes be so confident that he's able to ascertain what Ignatius meant?

ii) What bishops are the mind of Christ? There were Arian bishops. Are they the mind of Christ? Roman Catholic bishops? Eastern Orthodox bishops? Oriental bishops? Anglican bishops? Lutheran bishops? Methodist bishops? John Spong? Cardinal Kasper? 

Rather, Scripture and Tradition are simply the one “deposit of the word of God” (Dei Verbum II, §10) which is approached by different means.

The Christian Tradition is a continuation and further embodiment of the “mind of Christ,” who interprets the Old Testament with a unique authority (Matt 7:28-9).

In all these ways and more, the New Testament is quite obviously an instantiation or embodiment of the antecedently existent Christian Tradition, a “mode of tradition and objectification of tradition.

Notice the equivocal and contradictory use of the term "tradition". If tradition is a "deposit", then it lies in the past. That's a static, one-time deliverance. 

Conversely, if tradition is a "continuation and further embodiment" of the "mind of Christ," then that's a fluid, dynamic, evolving theology.

And if the NT is "an instantiation or embodiment of the antecedently existent Christian Tradition," then tradition is the oral history or living memory of Christ's public ministry. What eyewitnesses saw and recall.

Nemes jumbles together these disparate definitions of tradition, in his incoherent mishmash. 

To suppose that the texts of the New Testament themselves serve this purpose is an obvious nonstarter, since they are as much subject to interpretation as the Old Testament texts.

i) Yet there was no divinely-appointed "mechanism" to adjudicate theological disputes in Judaism. So why is that indispensable in the church age? 

ii) Moreover, OT texts must be sufficiently clear to attest the messiahship of Jesus to establish "the Church" in the first place. So you can't invoke the interpretive authority of "the Church" at that stage of the argument on pain of vicious circularity. 

Thus He can say that the acceptance or rejection of His apostles is altogether equal to the acceptance or rejection of Christ and of God the Father Himself (Matt 10:40; Luke 10:16; John 13:20). A person consequently cannot become a disciple of Christ except by becoming a disciple of the apostles and welcoming them into her life, a lesson which the first generation of Christians appreciated well: upon conversion and baptism, they devoted themselves to the teaching and fellowship of the apostles (Acts 2:42), being taught by them and spending time with them. 

But in context, those passages refer to living apostles. Apostolic missionaries. Face-to-face communication. After they die, all we have left is whatever they wrote for posterity. 

This point was well made by St. Vincent of Lérins, who appealed to Tradition as a proper authority for controlling the interpretation of various passages:

But here some one perhaps will ask, Since the canon of Scripture is complete, and sufficient of itself for everything, and more than sufficient, what need is there to join with it the authority of the Church’s interpretation? For this reason—because, owing to the depth of Holy Scripture, all do not accept it in one and the same sense, but one understands its words in one way, another in another; so that it seems to be capable of as many interpretations as there are interpreters. For Novatian expounds it one way, Sabellius another, Donatus another, Arius, Eunomius, Macedonius, another, Photinus, Apollinaris, Priscillian, another, Iovinian, Pelagius, Celestius, another, lastly, Nestorius another. Therefore, it is very necessary, on account of so great intricacies of such various error, that the rule for the right understanding of the prophets and apostles should be framed in accordance with the standard of Ecclesiastical and Catholic interpretation (Commonitorium §5).

i) Another appeal to another dead writer. Notice his arbitrarily selective skepticism about dead writers. We're supposed to be skeptical about how to interpret Bible writers, but we can confidently interpret church fathers, medieval theologians, Catholic mystics, &c. 

ii) What criterion does Nemes propose to determine that Origen, Isaac the Syrian, and Catherine of Siena channel the mind of Christ while Donatus and Novatian are illegitimate representatives? 

ii) So what does Nemes mean by "the Church"? Christians en masse? The laity? Popes? Bishops? Greek Fathers? Latin Fathers? "Saints"? Nemes is highly eclectic about the religious authorities he invokes. About the only thing he excludes from from his list of ecclesiastical witnesses are Protestants, except for ecumenical Protestants like Torrance. 

iii) On his blog, Nemes tells us that:

My favorite theologians, by whom I have been the most influenced, are Joseph Ratzinger, Isaac the Syrian, Catherine of Siena, Origen, Gregory of Nyssa, Gregory of Nazianzus, John of Damascus, Dumitru Stăniloae, Thomas Aquinas, T.F. Torrance, and Athanasius. Notice, no Augustine or John Calvin.

So what makes the figures in the first sentence the authentic voice of the church, but Calvin and Augustine don't speak for the "the Church"? What makes Aquinas or Origen spokesmen for the church, but Cranmer, Roger Nicole, Don Carson, F. F. Bruce, Tom Schreiner, and Darrell Bock don't make the cut? 

I don't see any consistent principle or selection criteria. Rather, it just seems to be the case that some writers resonate with Nemes while others don't. 

Voluntarism and absolutism

The whole point of religious commitment is that it is ultimate commitment. There are things to which one has given one's whole self, things to which one is absolutely committed. Christianity, as taught not just in verses about not denying Jesus but throughout the whole fabric of the New Testament (and Judaism in the Old) is similarly about absolute commitment of oneself. To the Christian, God, as revealed in the Son, Jesus Christ, is the ultimate value. If we don't have Him, we have nothing. We are therefore willing to die for him, to suffer for him. Nothing else is more important. Literally nothing. Nothing can compete with Him, nothing can take His place.

Posted by Lydia McGrew 

http://whatswrongwiththeworld.net/2017/02/moral_absolutes_and_apostasy.html

Like Anselm says, if God told you not to look in a particular direction, even though by looking you could save the whole world from destruction, you still ought not to look. We are never commanded to love our neighbor by denying God, even only formally, which is a grave sin.

Posted by: Steven Nemeș 

http://maverickphilosopher.typepad.com/maverick_philosopher/2017/02/the-ethical-dilemma-of-sebastian-rodrigues.html?cid=6a010535ce1cf6970c01b7c8d209f0970b#comment-6a010535ce1cf6970c01b7c8d209f0970b

One of the ironies of the reaction to Scorsese's Silence is that some critics, in the name of moral absolutism, take a position on religious duties which borders on theological voluntarism. For instance, we need to be circumspect about using hypotheticals in moral theology. It's child's play to concoct morally outrageous hypotheticals. So the question is how seriously we should take hypothetical scenarios about total devotion. You can make God command or forbid anything in a hypothetical. But that doesn't correspond to actual obligations. Here's one example: "Suppose God ordered you to rape a little girl, cut her tongue out, and set her on fire". 

If I have an unconditional obligation to obey God, then I'm duty-bound to heed that command, right? That's my sacred duty. After all, religious commitment is ultimate commitment. God has an absolute claim on my allegiance. The little girl can't compete with my unrivaled duty to honor God before before all else. 

Problem is, these hypotheticals are just a reflection of human imagination. The fact that we can dream up a divine command doesn't mean it's a pious requirement for me to submit to that injunction if "God" enjoined me to do it, for the God imposing that obligation on me is the God of the hypothetical. A hypothetical God issuing hypothetical commands. That doesn't necessarily or even presumptively map onto a realistic conception of religious duties. 

God's authority isn't absolute in the voluntaristic sense. To the contrary, God's authority is qualified or characterized by his moral attributes. By his wisdom and goodness. That's what makes divine authority a moral authority, rather than sheer dominion. It's striking that even in the limiting case of Abraham and Isaac, God didn't make Abraham go through with it. 

Some critics of Silence are appealing to moral absolutes to decry a symbolic act of desecration, yet they've driven such a wedge between fidelity to God and justice or compassion for the innocent that they subvert the principle that anything is intrinsically right or wrong. Beginning with moral absolutism, the critics wind up defending moral relativism. 

Nonnegotiable moral intuitions

On Facebook, a commenter (Steven Nemeș) attempted to respond to my post on "Last plane out of Saigon":

The belief that God is love is not a piece of a priori theologizing, but revealed through the self-sacrifice of Jesus on behalf of all (1 Jn 2:2, 4:7-10). Steve ignores that you based your contention with Calvinism on the biblical affirmation that God is love, not your a priori moral intuitions.
It becomes (subjectively) morally abhorrent once your intuitions have been informed by the revelation of God in Christ. 1 John 4:7-10 comes first, then the intuitions.

That's not how Walls defines intuition. Nemes is substituting his own moral epistemology for Jerry's. Evidently, Nemes never read Good God, by Jerry Walls and Dave Baggett. Here's some of what they say:

We think of our argument as unapologetically appealing to general revelation… (67).
Whereas biblical authority trumps in the realm of theological norms, there are more basic philosophical processes at play that hold logical priority in the realm of basic epistemology (67).
The Bible is taken as authoritative in the realm of theological truth. But before we can rationally believe such a thing, as human beings privy to general revelation and endowed with the ability to think, we must weigh arguments and draw conclusions, that is, do philosophy (68).
At a minimum, for example, scripture must be understood in a way that's consistent and coherent, not just internally, but also with what we know outside of scripture (76).
What violates our reason or nonnegotiable moral intuitions in contrast, is beyond the pale and so irrational to believe (77).
If the Bible did indeed teach such a doctrine [i.e. "unconditional reprobation"), wouldn't it be more rational to believe that it's not morally reliable? (78)?

So we see Jerry Walls appealing to "nonnegotiable moral intuitions". He says they derive from general revelation, not Scripture or the atonement.  

For Walls, a sine qua non of divine goodness is that God loves everyone. That's grounded in his moral epistemology. He deploys his (allegedly) intuitive preconception of what constitutes divine goodness as a standard of comparison to assess revelatory claimants. So his moral intuitions are independent of Scripture and ultimately superior to Scripture in that regard. A priori moral intuitions that are separable from Scripture. 

And he's run this kind of argument in the past to try to prove that God doesn't have to love everyone.

No, I've just said you can't appeal to conflicting intuitions to prove that God has to love everyone, when there's clearly no intuitive consensus to that effect. I don't use it to prove that God doesn't love everyone. Rather, I use that to show that the appeal doesn't point in one particular direction. 

It hardly negates the point to refer to some cases of bad sinners! 

It certainly negates the facile appeal to moral intuition if, in fact, many people's moral intuition balks at the notion that God is required to love these perpetrators.

A basic question this raises is what counts as evidence for the general revelatory status of his belief about God's universal love. How does Jerry know that's a moral intuition? Two potential lines of evidence suggest themselves:

i) If moral intuitions must derive from general revelation, you can establish that these are intuitive by process of elimination in case you are able to exclude other possible sources for the belief.

I've never seen Jerry even attempt to do that. Maybe I just missed it. 

And obvious problem with that line of evidence is that, to my knowledge, the only people who believe God is required to love everyone are people in certain Christian theological traditions. But that's hardly a promising avenue to prove these derive from general revelation. To the contrary, that strongly suggests the belief is the product of indoctrination rather than intuition.

ii) Another possibility is consensus. If it can be shown that this belief is a cultural universal, that would be prima facie evidence that it derives from general revelation. 

But to my knowledge, it isn't remotely the case that most people at most times and places believe such a thing. For instance, surely that's not something most pre-Christian pagans believe. 

Indeed, there are Christians who say Christ's command to love our enemies is "revolutionary"! And, of course, if you can love your enemy, you can love anyone. 

They think his command was a radical, novel idea to most people in the ancient world. But in that event, universal love is counterintuitive. It cuts against the grain of human nature, whether in reference to the notion of universal divine love or universal human love which mirrors the former. 

iii) In theory, Jerry might postulate that due to the "noetic effects of  sin," this intuition has been suppressed or eradicated in many cases. However, while that might be able to show how the lack of evidence is consistent with claim, there's no justification for the postulate unless we already have evidence that such an intuition exists! Jerry still needs to furnish some positive evidence that belief in God's universal love is a moral intuition, grounded in general revelation. 

The second problem is that he always, always conveniently fails to mention his own conviction that those evils took place because a logically and causally prior decision on God's part that they occur, for some reason only he knows and from which not everyone will ultimately benefit—and yet somehow this will not morally objectionable to everyone with properly functioning moral faculties who hears it. It's always the same spiel.

i) That's either ignorant or dishonest. I often discuss ethical objections to predestination. So is Nemes intentionally misrepresenting me? Or is he uninformed? 

ii) At the same time, I notice the Arminian tactic of deflecting any criticism of Arminianism by changing the subject. Let's rehash stock objections to Calvinism! But that's a backdoor admission that they can't directly defend Arminianism. 

Cheap forgiveness

I'm going to comment on a post by a Barthian universalist:

http://thecrucifiedgod.blogspot.com/2015/03/wimpy-universalism.html

I happen to think universalism is quite morally demanding, and requires a kind of strength that the ordinary person does not have. 

Like Josef Mengele. Apparently, Nemeș is talking about how morally demanding universalism is for universalists. It requires "extraordinary strength."

Problem is, if universalism is true, then it's true for everyone–yet everyone is not a universalist. Only an infinitesimal elite. 

Clearly, then, universalism isn't morally demanding on Mengele, even though universalism, if true, is equally beneficial to everyone.  It makes no moral demands on anyone in particular. 

But this conception of the world is morally demanding, because it requires that we conform ourselves to God's image.

No, it means God will conform everyone to himself, resorting to coercive remedial punishment when necessary. 

Universalism is hardly wimpy; it demands an ethic of unilateral goodness which is beyond the strength of those who fancy themselves harder, stronger, in touch with reality because they believe some will be deservedly damned forever. They care about themselves and their "justified" sentiments of resentment and moral condemnation too much to open themselves to the demand of forgiving the wicked, of praying for bastards like the ISIS decapitators, to feel for the pain of those who deserve punishment. 

Why should I "feel for the pain" of ISIS decapitators?

This is an excuse for them to be unforgiving and mean, for them not to make efforts and sacrifices for the sake of reconciliation and forgiveness. 

What heroic sacrifices is Nemeș making?

It's just like rich liberals who consider themselves virtuous because they seize money from one group and give it to another, while they have tax shelters for their own fortune.

All I'm getting from Nemeș is self-congratulatory rhetoric. What does he actually have to show for his high-sounding words?

The entire post is larded with self-deceptive self-flattery. Nothing is easier than forgiving perpetrators for atrocities they committed long ago and far away. Suppose I say: "I forgive Attila the Hun."

See how easy that was? He died 1500 years ago. His victims weren't friends or family of mine. He did nothing to me personally. Forgiving people in history books. Abstract victims of abstract perpetrators. That's morally demanding? That requires a kind of strength which the ordinary person doesn't have? 

Likewise, suppose I say "I forgive Pablo Escobar" (of the Medellín Cartel). How hard is that? He didn't order the torture and/or murder of any relatives of mine. The victims pay the price for my cheap forgiveness. Didn't cost me a thing. To the contrary, it's self-congratulatory.

Notice, too, how Nemeș has cast the universalist in the role of a Nietzschean Übermensch. A spiritual superman. Unlike mere Christian mortals. 

It's revealing how some people can work themselves into this moral posturing. It's very tempting to think better of ourselves than we ought to.

God is not himself today–come back tomorrow

I'm going to comment on this post, by a Barthian universalist:

http://acthe.wordpress.com/2014/01/23/eschatology-and-the-character-of-god/

In fact we object to violence and to the destruction of our enemies because this is precisely what God does too; this how God manifests himself when he is in us. The virtue lists in the New Testament depict human likeness of God in fundamentally nonviolent, benevolent terms: poor in spirit, mourning, meek, hungry for righteousness, merciful, pure, peacemakers, persecuted (Mt 5.3-10); lovers of enemies (Mt 5.43-8); loving, joyful, peaceful, forbearing, kind, good, faithful, gentle, self-controlled (Gal 5.22-3); not angry, not malevolent, beneficent in speech and deed, not bitter or rageful, kind and compassionate and forgiving (Eph 4.25-32); pure, peace-loving, considerate, submissive, full of mercy and goodness, impartial, and sincere (Jas 3.17). Persons who embody and manifest these traits are not violent; they are not descriptions of persons acting violently or malevolently. If this is what it means to have God present in you, then we infer that this is what God is truly like.

i) Nemes is burning a straw man when he equates retributive justice with violence. And the fumes rising from his straw man become even more acrid when he equates retributive justice with rage, bitterness, and malevolence. He isn't even attempting to accurately characterize the opposing position.

ii) Then there's his flawed theological method, where he resorts to non-eschatological, common grace passages to negate passages specific to eschatological justice and judgment. But our primary source of information about eschatology ought to come from passages directly concerned with eschatology. 

“But God is demonstrably violent and malevolent to some.” Yes, but he is not being himself. This is an important insight Jon D. Levenson mentions in his analysis of Torah in Creation and the Persistence of Evil: in his battle against sin and the forces of evil, God is forced to behave himself in a way with which he does not identify, which he does not desire. His ultimate goal is to be the benevolent, sovereign ruler of a freely cooperative world in which all flourish; but when evil threatens to destroy everything, he must cease to be benevolent to work towards preserving his threatened sovereignty.This is why it is important that we do not accept depictions of divine violence, of divine judgment, of damnation, etc., as final and definitive realities: God must be himself, he must be his true self in the end, and his true self is not the damning God but the saving God. Like Levenson says, God may not be proximately good, but he must be ultimately good.

That's an arresting notion of God. It reminds me of movies in which the villain gives the protagonist a choice: he can shoot one of his friends to save the other, or if he refuses to choose, the villain will shoot both of them. 

To judge by this, the God of Barth, Torrance, and Moltmann is a finite deity at the mercy of a rebellious creation; a God who is "forced" to act out of character–forced to commit heinous crimes in the short-term as he struggles to regain control of the situation. 

God's justice in damnation

I'm going to comment on this assertion, by a Barthian universalist:

So it is very much incompatible with God’s goodness to create a world in which everyone is damned. 

http://acthe.wordpress.com/2014/01/17/the-goodness-of-god-and-the-damnation-of-all/

i) Universal damnation is just a hypothetical limiting-case to make the point that if God is just in damning everyone, then God is just in damning anyone.

ii) As I pointed out in a previous post, Nemes artificially opposes divine goodness to divine justice.

iii) What I'd say is that universal damnation is incompatible, not with God's goodness or justice but with his wisdom. On the face of it, it would be pointless for God to create a world in which everyone is damned. Who benefits from that scenario? Not God and not the damned. Yet those are the only two parties on that scenario. 

Elect in Christ

3 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, 4 even as he chose us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before him. In love 5 he predestined us for adoption as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of his will, 6 to the praise of his glorious grace, with which he has blessed us in the Beloved. 7 In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace (Eph 1:3-7).

I'm going to comment on this post, by a Barthian universalist:

http://acthe.wordpress.com/2014/02/02/predestination-in-eph-1/

In the first place, there is no obvious why the predestination here being described could not possibly be understood in an inclusive as opposed to exclusive way.

Only if we isolate the passage from Paul's statements about eschatological judgment.

Secondly, the predestinarian affirmations are always qualified by the important locution “in Christ” (or also “in him”). The repetition of this phrase over and over again throughout the span of a few verses suggests that this is a critical aspect of Paul’s understanding of God’s predestination. As I understand Paul, he is speaking about a revelation of God’s plan and intentions which have been revealed through the story of Christ — his incarnation, life lived in obedience, death, resurrection, and ascension. Now because the election of Christ is understood from the very title christos — anointed by God for some task — it seems to me proper to understand Paul’s deriving our election from the election of Christ who acts for us; we are elect because Christ is chosen to act for us, on our behalf, in our stead, for our sake.

i) 1:4 doesn't say Christ is chosen. Christ is not the object of the verb. Christians are. 

ii) It's certainly possible that to be chosen in Christ is a compact way of saying that Christians were chosen in union with Christ, as their federal head, who acted on their behalf. That, however, doesn't furnish any evidence for universalism.

iii) Moreever, I  think that contextually, it's best to understand v4 in relation to v7. We were chosen in Christ to be redeemed in Christ. We aren't elected apart from the work of Christ. Rather, election and redemption are tightly correlated. Those, and only those, whom the Father elects, the Son redeems. 

God's goodness in judgment

I'm going to comment on this post by Steven Nemes:

http://acthe.wordpress.com/2014/01/17/the-goodness-of-god-and-the-damnation-of-all/

“But salvation is gracious and so not obligatory.” That is right, it’s not obligatory from the perspective of desert; but the claim is not that God’s not saving anyone is incompatible with his commitment to retribution (who would deny that anyway?). Crisp goes wrong when he supposes that goodness is somehow defined by desert. Not at all: goodness is defined by the bringing about of good, regardless of desert. Retribution is one thing, and goodness is another.

Notice that Nemes artificially segregates justice from goodness. But even though divine goodness is broader than divine justice, justice is a necessary component of divine goodness. Likewise, exacting justice is an expression of divine goodness. It is good to be just, and it is good to act justly. Absent a just character, God would not be good. Absent just conduct, God would not be good.

Furthermore, goodness is particularly ascribed to persons who do good to those who are undeserving, so that goodness is especially about going beyond desert in the favor of the undeserving. You’re good if you reward those who deserve it, but you are really good if you are kind to your enemies, if you are willing to listen to someone who is annoying and abrasive, if you show mercy to persons who otherwise have spit upon you and hurt you. In a way goodness is defined against desert and retribution, rather than by them: you’re not all that good if you only give people what they deserve; you’re really good if you do good to those who don’t deserve it.

i) Actually, that confuses goodness with mercy. Although mercy is sometimes good, goodness is broader than mercy. Punishing the wicked is good. 

ii) Being kind to my enemies has limits. That doesn't obviate the right of self-defense. It's not my duty to let someone murder me.  

iii) In addition, even if it's good for me to be kind to my enemies, that doesn't mean it's good for me to be kind to your enemies. Even if I can afford to put myself at risk, that doesn't automatically mean I have the right to put you at risk. 

Put another way, I'm not doing you good by showing kindness to someone who will do you harm. My kindness empowers him to harm you. Showing Ted Bundy mercy rather than justice is merciless to his future victims. Doing good for him is bad for others. Very bad. 

In that respect, it is positively evil to show some people mercy. You are merciful to them at the expense of others.  

This is your brain on Barth

I'm going to comment on this post by Steven Nemes:

http://acthe.wordpress.com/2013/12/31/johns-gospel-and-classical-calvinism/

I believe Nemes is currently a Barthian universalist. There are many problems with his analysis of John:

i) He ignores Johannine dualism, which is present in both the Gospel of John and 1 John. We can depict this in terms of three overlapping circles. In the center is the world. The elect intersect with the world on one side, while the reprobate intersect with the world on the other side. 

Nemes is oblivious to the subtleties of kosmos in Johannine usage. He seems to think this is a universal expression. Yet that fails to take into account the way John often sets "the world" in antithetical contrast to believers. But if the world encompasses everyone, then there's no room for contrast.

ii) As we see in the prologue, Christ enters a world that isn't open to the Gospel, or even neutral. Rather, the world of the Jews and Gentiles is already hostile to its Creator. In the Fourth Gospel, Christ has many personal encounters, both with individuals and groups. The reaction to Christ exposes a preexisting rift, a predisposition to shrink from the light and withdraw into the shadows. The open revelation of God in Christ has a hardening effect on many. 

iii) But some individuals respond in faith. Their positive response also exposes a preexisting mindset. The differential factor is the Father's choice and the Spirit's renewal. 

Both faith and disbelief are effects of something more ultimate. Unbelievers reveal their diabolical paternity while believers revealed their divine paternity. Children of God and children of Satan. 

Left to their own devices, everyone would be under the spell of Satan. Only the Spirit can break the diabolical spell. 

As the Good Shepherd, Christ comes to rescue lost sheep who were marked out for salvation by the Father antemundane election. Like branded sheep who've strayed. The Son comes into the world from outside the world, to implement a redemptive plan which conceived outside the world. Before creation.  

Cf. A. Köstenberger, A Theology of John's Gospel and Letters, 458-64; J. Ramsey Michaels, The Gospel of John, 40-42. Herman Ridderbos, The Gospel of John, 46-47. 

Transhumanism

http://snemes.blogspot.com/2011/10/transhumanism.html

Divorcing a sick spouse

http://snemes.blogspot.com/2011/09/divorcing-sick-spouse.html

The Nemes Nemesis

Steven Nemes has responded to a post of mine. Before I delve into the specifics, I’d like to make a general observation:

I actually don’t object to natural law arguments, per se. Aside from the potential for common ground arguments in the public square, a more principled argument for natural law ethics is to ground certain divine injunctions. To go beyond the bare injunction itself to discuss the underlying rationale. 

The problem, though, is that Catholics aren’t beginning with natural law ethics, then taking that wherever it logically leads them. Rather, they begin with Vatican policy, then try to use natural law to retroactively justify Vatican policy.

And this, in turn, generates a dilemma. Pop Catholic epologists use very crude natural law arguments to justify Vatican policy. However, such crude arguments invite easy, obvious counterexamples. At that point the Catholic has to introduce qualifications to his natural law appeal. But that creates two additional problems: (i) the qualifications are often ad hoc; (ii) Protestants can help themselves to the same qualifications. For the qualifications simply invite a new set of easy, obvious counterexamples.

Put another way, Catholic natural law arguments either prove too much or too little. On the one hand, if they draw the principles too broadly, then that either allows both the Catholic and Protestant positions alike, or else it disallows both.

On the other hand, if they draw the principles too narrowly, then (i) this leads to ad hoc restrictions which compromise the underlying principle as well as (ii) inviting a new set of counterexamples.  

They need an argument that’s general enough to let their own position slip through the net, but specific enough to screen out the Protestant position. But natural law ethics doesn’t strike that balance since their position isn’t really based on natural law in the first place. That’s just an afterthought to rubberstamp a preexisting policy–a policy that’s a historical accident. A preexisting policy that, to some extent, has to develop internally along traditional lines.

Back to Nemes

The first problem with Steve's argument here is that there is a confusion here in the use of the word "nature" and "natural." Ed Feser is helpful on this count:

 

"Natural" for Aquinas does not mean merely "statistically common," "in accordance with the laws of physics," "having a genetic basis," or any other of the readings that a mechanistic view of nature might suggest. It has instead to do with the final causes inherent in a thing by virtue of its essence, and which it possesses whether or not it ever realizes them or consciously wants to realize them (Aquinas [Oneworld, 2009], pp. 179-180, my emphasis).

 

In other words, "natural law" means that what is good/bad for a thing is a matter of the nature or kind of thing we are speaking about. What is good or bad for humans depends upon the nature of humans and the final cause of humanity as such. The irrelevance, therefore, of Steve's comment that there is an abundance of precedent in nature of infanticide is clear: natural law ethics is not the view that nature, as in the world out there in the jungles, seas, etc., determines what is good for us and bad for us, but rather that our natures (in a technical metaphysical sense) determine what is good for us and bad for us.

 

So it is clear that there is no argument from the practices of other species of animals to the goodness of those practices for us.

 

http://snemes.blogspot.com/2011/08/natural-law-argument-for-infanticide.html

1) It’s a relief to have an intelligent critic for a change.

2) Paul Manata already anticipated some of my responses, and no doubt put it better than I could.

3) I wouldn’t expect Aquinas to define “natural” as “having a genetic basis,” since Aquinas was writing before the advent of modern genetics. But I don’t see how that precludes a modern natural law theorist from defining what’s “natural” in genetic terms.

4) I’m also puzzled by Feser’s apparently derogatory characterization regarding a “mechanistic” view of nature, in relation to genetics. Presumably Feser believes in genetics.

5) There is also his false dichotomy between a “genetic” or “mechanical” definition of “natural,” on the one hand, and “final causes” grounded in the “essence” of a thing, on the other.

On the face of it, why couldn’t the essence of an organism be genetic? Likewise, why couldn’t the entelechy of an organism be genetic? Take a caterpillar turning into a butterfly, or an acorn turning into an oak? Why couldn’t that outcome or goal be genetically programmed? Indeed, isn’t that actually the case? It was genetically programmed to mature?

I’m not stating my own position at the moment. Simply bouncing off of Feser’s disjunctions.

6) Nemes then extrapolates from Feser’s statement to the claim that we can’t analogize from animal behavior to human behavior.

i) Offhand, I don’t see how that’s an implication of Feser’s statement. Did Nemes infer that from Feser’s statement?

ii) Or does Nemes simply use Feser’s statement to establish one point, then adds another point of his own?

7) It isn’t quite clear to me what he means by contrasting natural law with the law of the jungle. After all, the jungle is the native state for many human beings.

8) Apropos (7), isn’t it arbitrary to drive a wedge between the “essence” or entelechy of an organism and its natural habitant? Isn’t an organism adapted to its environment? Doesn’t that, to some extent, figure in the essence of an organism? Can we treat the essence as an airtight compartment, sealed away from the natural habitant of the organism?

9) In addition, Aquinas was pre-Darwinian. But many Catholics, like Michael Behe, Karl Rahner, and Alexander Pruss, subscribe to theistic evolution. They generally accept universal common descent. So that posits extensive continuity between man and the animal kingdom. Consider the following:

While there is little consensus among scientists about how the origin of this first microscopic life is to be explained, there is general agreement among them that the first organism dwelt on this planet about 3.5-4 billion years ago. Since it has been demonstrated that all living organisms on earth are genetically related, it is virtually certain that all living organisms have descended from this first organism. Converging evidence from many studies in the physical and biological sciences furnishes mounting support for some theory of evolution to account for the development and diversification of life on earth, while controversy continues over the pace and mechanisms of evolution. While the story of human origins is complex and subject to revision, physical anthropology and molecular biology combine to make a convincing case for the origin of the human species in Africa about 150,000 years ago in a humanoid population of common genetic lineage. However it is to be explained, the decisive factor in human origins was a continually increasing brain size, culminating in that of homo sapiens. With the development of the human brain, the nature and rate of evolution were permanently altered: with the introduction of the uniquely human factors of consciousness, intentionality, freedom and creativity, biological evolution was recast as social and cultural evolution [paragraph #63].

 

The present text was approved in forma specifica, by the written ballots of the International Theological Commission. It was then submitted to Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger, the President of the Commission, who has give his permission for its publication.

 

http://www.vatican.va/roman_curia/congregations/cfaith/cti_documents/rc_con_cfaith_doc_20040723_communion-stewardship_en.html

10) This is reinforced by the fact that Aquinas was a hylomorphic dualist rather than a Cartesian dualist or substance dualist (in the usual sense of the term). Hylomorphism is basically a type of physicalism.

And, indeed, you have Catholic physicalists like Peter van Inwagen.

Body and soul are distinguished the way we can distinguish between the form and substance of a wax figure.

11) As a Christian theologian, Aquinas must make room for the intermediate state, but there are two problems with that:

i) This seems to be a makeshift modification of hylomorphism.

ii) Even if it were tenable, that goes beyond natural revelation. That requires input from special revelation, it which case it’s no longer a natural law argument.

12) But in that event, a Catholic natural law theorist can’t drive a wedge between an organism’s essence or telos and it’s natural environment, for its habitant exerts adaptive pressures on the organism which modify the organism.

And, of course, that also accentuates various commonalities between man and best. To be sure, man has more in common with some animals than others. But on Catholic natural law assumptions, man is not a class apart from the animal kingdom.

Catholic dogma may reserve some unique distinctives for man, but that, once against, goes outside the bounds of natural law. That’s an argument from religious authority rather than an appeal to reason.

13) Likewise, if a Catholic accepts theistic macroevolution, then that includes encephalization, body-plans, etc. Surely that goes to the essence and/or entelechy of the organism.

14) Those are metaphysical considerations. Then we have the epistemic considerations. How do we ascertain the essence or entelechy of an organism? Why are genetic predeterminants or statistical commonalities irrelevant to that identification? What else do you have to go by within the confines of natural law reasoning? You can’t invoke dogma without moving outside the natural law framework.

15) Furthermore, there’s no reason to confine natural law theory to Thomism. For that matter, there are secular natural law theories.

"The immutable God who creates"

http://snemes.blogspot.com/2011/01/immutable-god-who-creates.html

"What a perfect being wants"

http://snemes.blogspot.com/2011/01/what-perfect-being-wants.html

Coping with Calvinism

Steven Nemes, Paul Manata, and I have pulled together some crisis counseling tips for grief-stricken Arminian parents who just discovered that their innocent kids succumbed to the perditious clutches of Calvinism:

When your family learns you’re Calvinist
June 8, 2010 by Steven

There is not a more uncomfortable few hours you can spend than those when your family (note: not immediate family, like your parents and brother, but your extended family, like aunts and cousins) learn that you are a Calvinist. If you were born in an “unbelieving” family, like me, it was a big enough deal when your parents learn you’re one of those wretches who believes you can do whatever you want after you’re saved, cuz you’re never going to lose it. But it’s twice as bad when family you don’t even see that often–like your parents’ siblings who live half way across the US (or across the world even) learn you’re a Calvinist. Then, it seems, you’re branded–”Oh, that’s my brother’s heretic of a kid–he’s one of them Calvinists, you know. They believe God chose them to be saved cuz they’re so special.” It’d be better to keep it secret, but then again, whoever is ashamed of me before men…

steve hays

That’s why we need to form support groups for Calvinists who come out of the closet. Paul Manata heads up a local chapter in Grand Rapids. It’s a safe place for Calvinists who’ve been shunned by family and friends to hold hands and have a good cry.

Paul

Here’s something I worked up for our local group, maybe this will help you, Steven:

Instructions.

Things You’ll Need:

* Confidence

Step 1

Seeking out the support of your friends and even your pastor if you already have one is important when you are preparing to tell your family you’re a Calvinist. Many families have a negative reaction when they hear this, thus they may disassociate with you for awhile or express disappointment. This can be extremely emotional and stressful for you, which is why it is important that you have supportive friends around to help boost your spirit and morale, as well as reassure you that you made the correct decision (especially when those who dislike your choice tell you that you did not make a decision).

Step 2

Preparing yourself for criticism or disassociation by your family is important. Most families need time to come to terms with the fact that someone is a Calvinist before they can fully accept them again. Before they can see them as human. You may find it beneficial to hear stories of others who have came out to their family and what they went through in order to prepare yourself.

Step 3

Understanding the cycle families, especially parents, go through when you tell them you’re a Calvinist can also help in managing the criticism and disassociation you receive. Generally most people experience anger, grief and disappointment before they fully accept you as someone who is a Calvinist. This is especially true for parents who often question what they did wrong that made you accept TULIP. Let them hang out with you and your Calvinist friends. They will begin to see you as human, and love you just as you are.

Step 4

Providing your family members, especially your parents, with books about being a Calvinist and having Calvinist children can really be an asset as they go through the above cycle. There are a number of excellent resources that you can purchase and give to them when you tell them you are a Calvinist (R.C. Sproul’s _Chosen By God_ is a classic). This helps them to learn more as well as understand they are not the only family with a Calvinist person in it.

Step 5

Seeking out the support of family friends that can be of assistance during this process is also beneficial (like the local PCA or OPC, or even a Reformed baptist church). Your parents may have friends that are more orthodox than your own, whom you feel comfortable telling you are a Calvinist. By coming out to them in advance and talking about how you will be telling your parents or family, these friends can act as a support system. They can help your family come to terms with the fact that you are a Calvinist.

Step 6

Consider who in your family you want to tell that you are a Calvinist to first. Some family members will react better than others, and you probably know which ones they are (family members that drink beer or wine in moderation or don’t let emotion determine truth are the most likely to accept your change). Often telling cousins or siblings is much easier than parents, grandparents or other adults since most cousins or siblings your age know of someone that is Calvinist or have friends that are. Telling someone in your family who will be accepting of the fact that you are a Calvinist can give you the boost of confidence you need to tell the rest of your family.

Step 7

Finally tell your family you’re a Calvinist. Although you may be dreading it, you will feel a sense of relief once you get it over. Instantly a huge weight will be lifted off your shoulders (kind of like how accepting the doctrines of grace was a weight off your semi-Pelagian shoulders) as you now know you can be yourself and you no longer have to pretend to be someone else, like Joel Osteen.

Step 8

Repeat steps 1-7 as necessary.

steve hays

Parents who discover that their children have converted to Calvinism pass through the classic stages of grief. According to Kübler-Ross, it’s the same reaction patients have when diagnosed with a terminal disease:

Shock stage: Initial paralysis at hearing the horrible news.
Denial stage: "How dare you say my child would do that!"
Anger stage: "How could my child do that to me!"
Bargaining stage: "If you recant, I’ll buy you a Mustang!"
Depression stage: Sense of hopelessness.
Acceptance stage: Stoic resignation.