Ask a Theologian II

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and thx Sidhe, I read the other thread but dont see an answer to my question.

I only meant to answer the first bit, sorry should of edited it better. It should answer that part at least.
 
Thank you for your answer. I would now like to open it up even more (but not completely). What do you think is the most likely reason that Christianity exists today as a religion and Jesus is claimed to be divine? (allowing every explanation and possibility other than any kind of affirmation of Jesus' divinity... i.e. suppose he is not divine, then what is the most likely reason?)

From a purely historical viewpoint, I'd say blame Emperor Constantine.

Christianity existed as a religion or faith from a very early point in time, as the epistles and gospels show. As a rough system it existed from the time of Jesus, as he preached his central message of the Kingdom of Heaven... the basic temporal element of which was look after the disadvantaged and stop being so selfish with what you've got.

After Jesus' death, the precise doctrinal form of that religion was initially quite open. Over the next centuries, there were numerous ways that various groups attempted to interpret Christ, and who and what he meant ranging from Christ's non-divinity through to his absolute divinity (see this randomly google-searched but helpful blog for more on the range http://www.apostate.com/introduction-early-christian-heresies). If we are ruling out the possibility of his divinity, then lets say those at the extreme divinity end of the scale were people operating in a pre-modern world who's optimism and hope allowed them to believe they were encountering something divine in a man that seemed extraordinarily inspired.

One side tended to work out stronger, and in the end managed to get all the others labelled heretical.

On a broader scale, Christianity itself was of course considered athiestic under Roman law and religion for its denial of multiple Gods. This led to its initial persecution. Despite that, it tended to grow among the Roman masses (perhaps because of its ethic of favouring the poor), and had grown to a sizeable number by the time of Constantine.

By the time of Constantine the dominant belief of Christianity was close to what we'd call the orthodox view today - the godhood of Christ, the one who defeated sin.

Constantine, who was fighting a few rivals for full control of the Empire, siezed on this concept and used the 'God-son' as his emblem and totom as he marched across Europe. Jesus as the Son of God also fit well with a devotion to the 'Sun as God'... Constantine seemed to mesh the two together.

He declared Christianity legal, was Baptised on his deathbed, and opened up a way for it to be declared a state religion.

Once Christianity was the state religion, it became fashionable. Its forms, places of worship, and rituals were probably adapted to resemble Roman pagan celebrations (consider even the holidays... Christmas falling on the Sun's birthday, Easter on pagan spring celebrations).

Becoming the state religion, conformity to Orthodoxy was established, and persecuted when it was not followed. That set the tone for the next several hundred years. Even now, churches that vary too far from that Orthodoxy especially on the nature of Christ (ie, Mormon and Jehovah's Witnesses) are viewed with some heistancy.

And who's right in the end? God only knows, I think... but its the theologian's task to work at it, even if the answer is unclear :)
 
Thank you for your answer. I would now like to open it up even more (but not completely). What do you think is the most likely reason that Christianity exists today as a religion and Jesus is claimed to be divine? (allowing every explanation and possibility other than any kind of affirmation of Jesus' divinity... i.e. suppose he is not divine, then what is the most likely reason?)

Paulianity, linky link link.
 
I read that link and it makes a decent case for the gospels (3 anyway) already in written form before Paul's influence would have made it harder for them to enter the religion, the 50s ce...
 
Hi! I'm posting in a great thread! I'll try not to mess it up.

What do you think of moral knowledge? For example, I know a lot of Christians like to believe that without morals as dictated by God then life is essentially amoral. Do you buy that? I'm not sure if this is theology or more of a philosophy sort of thing so I'll just vaguely say "Moral Knowledge" and exit.
 
PLOTINUS: (from Ask a Theologian I, sorry for bumping up but I've just red it):
Well, my point was basically this: assuming predestination, any sin I commit will turn out to be what God wanted. But any good that I do will also turn out to be what God wanted. So any rationalisation that I may come up for sinning, on the basis of predestination, can also be applied mutatis mutandis to not sinning. That is, I may say that my sin was predestined and desired by God, but I may also say that my not-sinning was predestined and desired by God. The parallel justifications cancel each other out, and I'm left with the same reasons for or against that I would have had if there were no predestination at all: namely, that one ought not to sin, other things being equal.

Can a rationalization go in this way: God DO NOT want committing sins by default, but if someone already did, He might turn it into something good. So basically, the system works similar to the IF-THEN orders, IF A) man does not commit a sin, THEN God continues with His plan (whatever it is)
and IF B) man commit a sin, THEN God is adjusting the plan to move the current situation up to good.

scy12: (not properly quoted, sorry):
"I would say that Christian morality is damn near any human morality regarding good and evil. Wait , it condemns Gays , adultery and so on. Well , Christianity is a byproduct of it's time and place. And still while some of these things we may not find evil , Christian morality find them corrupting and immoral and explain them as evil."

Well, some of this things (especially the "homosexual people" issue) leaves lots of believers into confusion. However, the Jesus himself explains that man should not hate another man (no matter what the other man is doing). Christianity condemns sin, but sin is not the same thing as man who did it. In another words, Christians may disagree with the homosexuals' way of life, but they are strongly encouraged to threat them equally, and with respect. Again, homosexuals themselves, not their way of life.

As for this "morality" thing, that's completely another question. Different cultures, different beliefs and different people often see different things as good or evil. My humble opinion would be that there is no evil if the intension is good, in general.
 
Hi! I'm posting in a great thread! I'll try not to mess it up.

What do you think of moral knowledge? For example, I know a lot of Christians like to believe that without morals as dictated by God then life is essentially amoral. Do you buy that? I'm not sure if this is theology or more of a philosophy sort of thing so I'll just vaguely say "Moral Knowledge" and exit.

First of all, hi.:) I'm also a newbie on this thread. :D
Well, the answer on your question could be: not necessarily. What I mean is, every man has SOME moral borders, no matter how weird can those sometimes be. A man without ANY morality is in 99% of cases viewed as a deviation in ALL cultures. What I'm trying to say is that there is obvious something REALLY deep in a man (or at least in majority of them) what is telling them what is moral and what is not. The very essence of them, soul? Genetics? Whatever the answer is, Christians will likely to find the God as the root of this morality, because "all things are parts of the God" (except this "immorality" or evil).
 
Hi Plotinus. Forgive me if this was asked before but is teaching Theology your profession? How did you first get into it? Do you feel this study has enriched your life? What made you so curious about Christianity seeing as you're not religious?

I don't have a profession right now, since I'm just finishing a PhD in philosophy. I write books about theology and church history - right now I'm writing one about the early church - so it's my profession to that degree. I think I've answered the question about why and how I got into it here.

A couple more - do you think overall Christianity is good or bad for people? How about if they actually studied it and knew more about it (assuming they'd still take it seriously as religion)?

I'm not sure what the answer is to that. I think if everyone were a Christian, in the sense of being really committed to Christian values, then the world would probably be a better place, but history shows that being a Christian or at least thinking you're one is quite compatible with being not very nice. Also I don't think Christianity is true so I wouldn't want everyone to believe something that I think false. I do think that on the whole Christianity has had a positive effect on the world. And actually studying anything and knowing more about it can only be a good thing.

And finally - does it bother you that Theology is a dead end "science" in Civilization 2 (I always wondered if that was a secret dig at religion :D)?

I never played Civ II so I don't have an opinion on it... I don't remember Theology being in Civ I, and it's quite an important tech in Civ III, so that's fine by me!


I earn very little from theology, so it's definitely not very sustainable.

Plotinus: What have been the major theological responses to the Euthyphro dilemma? Has the church ever had an "official" position on it?

The Euthyphro dilemma, for those who don't know, is the question which of the following is true:

(1) God forbids murder, and commands love, because murder is wrong and love is right.
(2) Murder is wrong and love is right, because God forbids murder and commands love.

If (1) is true, then actions are right or wrong independent of God's decrees, so talking about God doesn't explain why they are right or wrong. If (2) is true, then actions are right or wrong simply because God says so; but why does God say that this is right/wrong rather than that? He must have some reason, or the whole thing is just arbitrary. But if he has a reason other than his desire, it takes us back to (1).

It's called the Euthypthro dilemma because it was first posed in Plato's Euthyphro, in which Socrates takes position (1) and says that you can't appeal to the gods to explain why certain actions are right and others are wrong.

I don't think the church has ever officially addressed this in much detail. One reason for this is that the Catholic Church adopted a form of virtue ethics, which rather avoids the whole problem. In virtue ethics, as least the kind set out by Aquinas, the "right" action is the one that leads to human flourishing. So it is "right" because it is expedient. Now why does this particular action lead to flourishing and this other one not? Because God has created us in such a way. So on this view, the fact that love is good for us and murder is bad for us is down to God in the end, but it's not like he's arbitrarily decreed that the former is "right" and the latter is "wrong". Rather, he has made us in such a way that it is natural that the former is "right" and the latter is "wrong". Now that may then lead to the question why he has made us in this way rather than that way, but that's not a moral question. If you look through that amazingly cheap edition of Aquinas you got you'll see that not only does he not address the Euthypthro problem, there isn't really a part of the work where you might naturally expect it.

Which is more likely to have happened (out of these two possibilities), based on your studies?

A) Jesus was an excellent trickster. He fooled everyone into believing he is divine. He knew what he was doing.

B) Jesus didn't actually do much or intend to do much. The story was exaggerated by being passed down through multiple rewrites and interpretations, either through intentional or unintentional means (or both).

Sorry for the concise and imprecise descriptions. Thanks for your input! :)

I'd agree with Margim and say definitely B. A was a common charge by opponents of Christianity, such as Celsus and Porphyry, in its early centuries, but it's really not very likely for the reasons Margim gave. The only point I'd disagree with him is that I don't think it was Jesus' ethical teaching that led to his execution; I think the simpler explanation (he was a potential trouble maker during the Passover, and neither the high priest nor Pilate was prepared to tolerate that) is preferable.

Don't know if they are wanted or required, but (as I did from time to time before), thought I'd offer my services on the side to compliment Plotinus.

Thank you - you've made some great contributions already so it's good to have you helping out here.

I know there are a couple types of Satanism these days, but is there evidence of it being a cyclical historical fad? I guess there's no real 'anti-Christian' faith these days (i.e., a faith with the same metaphysical makeup as Christianity, but an opposite conclusion), but there're hints about it in fiction (and the like). Any history of groups with very similar metaphysical views, but radically different (and antithetical) conclusions?

I can't think of anything quite like what you're describing. I suppose that some occult groups, such as kabbalists, the OTO, the Golden Dawn, and so on have usually shared a lot of metaphysical views with Christianity. For example, they normally seem to accept that the Bible is a divine revelation. But of course they also have lots of other metaphysical stuff, and usually seem to draw more upon Judaism directly than upon Christianity itself. I think real full-blown Satanism has always been a really tiny phenomenon even when it has existed at all.

Thank you for your answer. I would now like to open it up even more (but not completely). What do you think is the most likely reason that Christianity exists today as a religion and Jesus is claimed to be divine? (allowing every explanation and possibility other than any kind of affirmation of Jesus' divinity... i.e. suppose he is not divine, then what is the most likely reason?)

I think that a question like that is really impossible to answer; you might as well ask why France exists today. A religion like Christianity is a very complex phenomenon; there are vast numbers of reasons for every aspect of it.

I'd say that Margim's explanation about Constantine is probably about as good as you'd get, although personally I would be wary of attributing too much explanatory power to Constantine. Remember that in the fourth century Christianity had already spread well beyond the Roman empire; it was widespread throughout Persia and elsewhere in the Middle East, and was beginning to spread to the European barbarians. I think that without Constantine and co Christianity would certainly have survived and perhaps have flourished, although its history would have been very different.

So Plot, what do you think of memes and the description of relgion as memes or collections of memes?

I don't think it really says a great deal.

Meaning the names used may not be of the people serving as sources?

The names Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John were identified in the mid-second century as the authors of the Gospels. If they didn't actually write them I'm not sure what reason there might be for supposing that they served as oral sources for whoever did write them. Mark, in particular, was thought to have written his Gospel with Peter as an oral source, so making Mark himself an oral source for someone else would be a bit odd.

How do we know who was or was not a witness or what they saw? If Mark was not a witness yet served as a source for Matthew, then where'd Mark get his stuff? From someone who was a witness? And if Mark's source saw something Matthew didn't, then why not use Mark's source? But that does indeed suggest Mark's source was a witness and known to Matthew as reliable.

If the author of Matthew used Mark as a source, that only indicates that the author of Matthew thought that Mark was reliable, or at least offered material that Matthew wanted to use. It doesn't mean he thought that the author of Mark or his sources was an eyewitness. Most of the material in Mark's Gospel has clearly been through a long process of oral telling and retelling. Form criticism is an analytical tool that was developed in the first half of the twentieth century for examining the individual stories (known as pericopae) in the Gospels, and it showed that they had been shaped by the oral tradition into a number of genres: miracle stories, healing stories, and so on. What the author of Mark did was to take a number of these stories that Christians had been telling each other and write them down. Perhaps some of them had already been written and he used written sources (his Passion narrative has more cohesion than the rest of the Gospel, so it may have been in written form already) or perhaps he was the first to write any of this material. Either way, most of it seems to have been traditional material when he was writing - he didn't just sit down and write it out of his own head, either from his personal memories or from his imagination.

The authors of both Matthew and Luke certainly had written sources, because one of them was Mark's Gospel. They both very probably also used a now-lost document known as Q, which seems to have contained mostly sayings of Jesus rather than a narrative of his actions. They also each had access to other material, perhaps written or perhaps oral like the material Mark used.

John is very difficult to analyse. The Fourth Gospel evidently went through a number of editions and versions before reaching the form in which we know it. Whether all or some of these editions were by the same author is uncertain. It is also uncertain to what degree he used pre-existing written material. For example, it is often thought that much of the Gospel comes from an earlier source known as the Signs Gospel, but it's unclear whether we should think of that as a completely different document which the author of John used as a source, or simply as an earlier version of the Fourth Gospel before the author had added some of his other material. It's not even known whether the author of John had read any of Matthew, Mark, or Luke.

As you said, early Christians were expecting the end...and the Messiah, etc... No need to write stuff down, but the end didn't come and neither did the Messiah. So they got older, neared death, and recorded their memories. Are actual witnesses precluded from authoring the gospels?

Nothing is "precluded", but one has to weigh up the evidence and judge how likely it is. Certainly eyewitnesses might have written the Gospels, but if they did then you need to explain why they seem to have done so by collecting and editing pre-existing material from the folk tradition rather than by relying upon their own memories. And if they did do that, then it becomes quite irrelevant whether they were eyewitnesses or not. Given that, and the fact that the traditional attributions are so late and don't seem to have any good basis, it seems to me very unlikely that the Gospels were the work of any eyewitnesses.


I'm not at all convinced by that sort of thing. For one thing it's ridiculous to my mind to call Paul "sinister", "evil" and so on - all he did was travel about trying to convert people to his religion and writing letters to the people he left behind. We might not sympathise with that but it's hardly evil. More fundamentally, I think it's a wild exaggeration to make out that Paul represented a completely different religion from that of the Jerusalem church. There certainly wasn't happy unity between them, and there were indeed differences and conflicts, but that author reads too much into them. His analysis of Paul's theology seems quite flawed in key respects and I don't think there's such a difference from Jesus' teaching as he suggests. It's important to remember that Paul was probably not that important a figure in his lifetime. It was only later, with the collection and publication of his letters, that he became a really important influence upon the church as a whole. So I think the notion that Paul created a new religion and somehow singlehandedly perverted Christianity from the original message of Jesus is too extreme.

Berzerker said:
I read that link and it makes a decent case for the gospels (3 anyway) already in written form before Paul's influence would have made it harder for them to enter the religion, the 50s ce...

I don't think his argument is really very good. It basically relies upon his argument that Paul's version of Christianity was, by the 60s and 70s, smothering the Jerusalem version of Christianity, with which it was in fundamental disagreement; and that the Gospels represent the Jerusalem version; so they couldn't have been written that late or they would have been suppressed. I don't think that his basic case about Paul and the Jerusalem church really holds water, so I would reject his main premise here. Moreover, I'd say that the fact that most scholars date the Gospels to some decades after Paul's writings indicates that something must be wrong with that author's basic thesis. In other words, he argues like this:

(1) If Paul and Jerusalem were in fundamental disagreement and "Paulianity" was smothering "real" Christianity in the 60s and 70s, then the Gospels couldn't have been written so late.
(2) But Paul and Jerusalem were in fundamental disagreement and "Paulianity" was smothering "real" Christianity in the 60s and 70s.
(3) Therefore the Gospels were not written so late.

But one could just as well argue like this:

(1') If Paul and Jerusalem were in fundamental disagreement and "Paulianity" was smothering "real" Christianity in the 60s and 70s, then the Gospels couldn't have been written so late.
(2') But the Gospels were written so late.
(3') Therefore, Paul and Jerusalem were not in fundamental disagreement and "Paulianity" was not smothering "real" Christianity in the 60s and 70s.

What do you think of moral knowledge? For example, I know a lot of Christians like to believe that without morals as dictated by God then life is essentially amoral. Do you buy that? I'm not sure if this is theology or more of a philosophy sort of thing so I'll just vaguely say "Moral Knowledge" and exit.

The question whether morality is a matter of knowledge at all is disputed by philosophers. But whether it is or not, I would definitely reject the claim that without God life must be amoral - among other reasons, because of the Euthyphro problem mentioned above. If things are right/wrong solely because God commands them, then the distinction is arbitrary; but if God commands these things and not those things for a reason, then we can explain morality without needing to bring God into it, because the reason is something distinct from God.
 
Can a rationalization go in this way: God DO NOT want committing sins by default, but if someone already did, He might turn it into something good. So basically, the system works similar to the IF-THEN orders, IF A) man does not commit a sin, THEN God continues with His plan (whatever it is)
and IF B) man commit a sin, THEN God is adjusting the plan to move the current situation up to good.

If we're talking about a context in which predestination is true, or at least is believed to be true, then it wouldn't make much sense to think of God adjusting his plan in accordance with people's decisions, because those decisions are part of his plan to start with. If I believe in predestination then I believe that whatever I do - whether sinful or not - is what God has predetermined me to do.

But if we forget about predestination then the model you suggest would make a lot of sense, and I think it's how a lot of people - at least Protestants - would probably think of things. But still, to say that God adjusts his plan to take account of our sinful actions wouldn't be much of a justification for committing them. On the contrary, even though God might bring good out of our evil, he presumably would not bring as much good as there would have been if we hadn't sinned and if his original plan had been followed. Otherwise, that wouldn't have been his original plan, on the assumption that God always plans for the most amount of good. Any variation upon God's plan will reduce the overall good, so even though God will bring about the best consequences he can from our sin, it would still have been better not to have had it in the first place. That's what I'd think anyway.
 
I don't think the church has ever officially addressed this in much detail. One reason for this is that the Catholic Church adopted a form of virtue ethics, which rather avoids the whole problem. In virtue ethics, as least the kind set out by Aquinas, the "right" action is the one that leads to human flourishing. So it is "right" because it is expedient. Now why does this particular action lead to flourishing and this other one not? Because God has created us in such a way. So on this view, the fact that love is good for us and murder is bad for us is down to God in the end, but it's not like he's arbitrarily decreed that the former is "right" and the latter is "wrong". Rather, he has made us in such a way that it is natural that the former is "right" and the latter is "wrong". Now that may then lead to the question why he has made us in this way rather than that way, but that's not a moral question. If you look through that amazingly cheap edition of Aquinas you got you'll see that not only does he not address the Euthypthro problem, there isn't really a part of the work where you might naturally expect it.

Cool, thanks! Is the "human flourishing" as defined by Aquinas the same as Aristotle's eudaimonia, or does Aquinas see human flourishing in a more "god-related" way?

I like Virtue Ethics a lot. Right now I'm reading one of the foundational books in the recent virtue epistemology movement, its very cool!

Also: Just how bad (historically inaccurate and philosophically uncharitable/prejudiced) is Russell's discussion of Catholic Philosophy in his History of Western Philosophy?
 
I've really enjoyed trying to parse societal ethics into "rational arrangements" and "the expression of instinctive urges". Most of the time we can slot them easily into one or the other, but there are times when it's tough to avoid making a 'just so' argument.
 
Cool, thanks! Is the "human flourishing" as defined by Aquinas the same as Aristotle's eudaimonia, or does Aquinas see human flourishing in a more "god-related" way?

Both, really. The short answer is that Aquinas agrees with Aristotle about the kind of flourishing that human beings can attain, but he thinks there's a higher kind of happiness available too, which involves God. Remember that Aristotle thinks there are two kinds of happiness, one which is practically-based (good for the common masses) and another which is theoretically-based (good for aristocratic philosophers), as described in the tenth book of the Nicomachean Ethics. Aquinas effectively agrees with this distinction, but makes the theoria kind of happiness more explicitly God-centred. Here's an extract from something I wrote a while back on this sort of thing, which is just an introduction really, but you might find it useful. There's some stuff in here about other Christian views too, especially Augustine and Gregory Palamas, which might be handy to compare and contrast to Aquinas.

The function of a human being

The idea that a human being can have a “function”, like a machine, sounds odd. But in fact this basic conviction was at the heart of most ancient ethical theories, which typically sought to identify what the function was. The idea was that the best kind of life for human beings would involve functioning properly. That does not presuppose that there is any kind of “intended” function for human beings: it is not as if God “designed” them for some purpose. But it still makes sense to talk of function, in the sense of the activity that people are suited to.

The most famous theory of this sort was that of Aristotle, which he presented forcefully in his Nicomachean Ethics. In that book, Aristotle suggested that happiness is rather like health: it is a matter of correct functioning. The person who fully realises his or her potential, who lives the kind of life for which human beings are most suited, will be the happiest. Since the ability to reason is what sets human beings apart from other animals, Aristotle argued that a life devoted to reason would therefore represent the pinnacle of human flourishing, and be the happiest; nevertheless, since not everyone has the opportunity to spend their lives in philosophical contemplation, it is also possible find happiness through a practical life, lived out in society – for human beings are also intrinsically social animals. There are thus two kinds of happiness – a rather mundane one, for most people, and a better one, for a select few. Much of Aristotle’s book is devoted to an analysis of “virtue”, for virtues are character traits which tend to produce happiness. So being virtuous is rather like being healthy. Just as we should cultivate (say) lower blood pressure, because it will tend to make us fitter and less prone to certain diseases, so too we should cultivate (say) generosity because it will make us the sort of person who flourishes and is happy.

Aristotle’s theory is often called a “eudaimonistic” theory, from the Greek word for “happiness”. It is also often categorised as “virtue ethics”, since it is concerned with cultivating a certain kind of character. His theory had an enormous influence on medieval ethical thought. In particular, Thomas Aquinas modified it in the thirteenth century to produce a Christian theory of happiness and the virtues. Just like Aristotle, Aquinas believes there are two kinds of happiness, but he argues that these two kinds of happiness are nurtured by completely different sets of virtues. On his view, there are actually three kinds of virtue. The first are the intellectual virtues, wisdom, science, and understanding, which help one to learn the truth. The second are the moral or cardinal virtues, justice, temperance, fortitude, and prudence, which help one to live rightly. Fostering these virtues will produce a lower kind of happiness – what one might call a satisfying life on earth. However, there is also the third kind of virtue, the theological virtues – faith, hope, and love (or charity) – which help one to reach one’s true destiny and happiness. The list of theological virtues comes from 1 Corinthians 13:13, where Paul also comments that love is the greatest of the three – but he does not specify what their roles are or even call them “virtues” at all.

Aquinas shares with Aristotle the belief that the intellectual and cardinal virtues can be acquired through practice. If you behave justly, you will eventually become a just person. But the theological virtues are not like this. They can come only directly from God, and, furthermore, they perfect the other kinds of virtues. It is possible, for example, to have wisdom and justice without also having faith and love; but if you do have faith and love, then your wisdom and justice will be of a higher order, and will contribute to a higher kind of happiness.

The theological virtues, of course, are directed towards God: it is God in whom one has faith and hope, and God whom one loves. In other words, Aquinas is suggesting that a truly virtuous life is one that takes account of God... That is partly because God, who lays down the eternal law, is in effect the creator of morality: things are right or wrong because he says so. From a purely pragmatic point of view, too, God is the creator of human beings: he designed them to function in a certain way. It is therefore wise to pay attention to his operating instructions, as it were.

So on Aquinas’ view, it is not simply the case that one must focus on God if one is to act morally... one must also focus on God if one is to be happy. Here he was taking his cue from Augustine of Hippo. Augustine’s Confessions, probably the most famous and influential autobiography ever written, testified to his belief that happiness can be found only in God: it described his spiritual wanderings before he finally returned to the church and found happiness. In the first chapter, in undoubtedly the most hackneyed quotation from his entire works, Augustine summarised the relationship between God and humanity:

You move us to delight in praising you; for you have formed us for yourself, and our hearts are restless until they find rest in you. Confessions I 1

C.S. Lewis expressed the same idea in more modern terms:

God made us: invented us as a man invents an engine. A car is made to run on petrol, and it would not run properly on anything else. Now God designed the human machine to run on Himself. He Himself is the fuel our spirits were designed to burn, or the food our spirits were designed to feed on. There is no other. That is why it is just no good asking God to make us happy in our own way without bothering about religion. God cannot give us a happiness and peace apart from Himself, because it is not there. There is no such thing. Mere Christianity p. 50

Aquinas agrees with this. On his view, however, real happiness can never be found in this life. The reason is that we can know God only imperfectly in this life. On earth, the best we can hope for is a satisfying life, the life of morality which comes through exercising the cardinal virtues. If God gives us the theological virtues too, we can begin to glimpse the greater kind of happiness, but we cannot know it fully yet.

Now man’s happiness is twofold... One is proportionate to human nature, a happiness, that is, which human beings can obtain by using their natural abilities. The other is a happiness beyond human nature, and which humans can obtain by the power of God alone, by a kind of participation of the Godhead, which is why it is written that by Christ we are made “partakers of the divine nature”. And because such happiness surpasses the capacity of human nature, human beings’ natural abilities which enable them to act well according to their capacity are not enough to direct them to this same happiness. So it is necessary for humans to receive from God some additional abilities, so that they can be directed to supernatural happiness... Such principles are called “theological virtues”: first, because their object is God, inasmuch as they direct us reliably to God; second, because they are infused in us by God alone; third, because these virtues are not made known to us except by divine revelation, contained in Holy Scripture. Summa Theologiae I i lxii 1

For Aquinas, achieving true happiness is the true function of human beings. What, then, is the nature of this happiness?

The vision of God

In the west, Christians’ understanding of the purpose of human beings – and the nature of their happiness – was enormously influenced, like so much else, by Augustine of Hippo. Four centuries earlier, Paul had written:

...we know only in part, and we prophecy only in part; but when the complete comes, the partial will come to an end. When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I became an adult, I put an end to childish ways. For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known. 1 Corinthians 13:9-12

But it was Augustine who elaborated on this to produce western Christianity’s understanding of the “now, but not yet” idea that we have just seen in Aquinas: the belief that we can have some dim grasp of future happiness now, but no more than that. Augustine argued that the passage from 1 Corinthians referred to the time following the general resurrection of the dead, after Christ had judged all human beings – that is, the time of eternal life.

And so, when I am asked what the saints will do in that spiritual body, I do not say what I see, but I say what I believe, according to what I read in the psalm, “I believed, therefore have I spoken.” I say, then, that in the body they will see God – but whether they shall see him by means of the body, as now we see the sun, moon, stars, sea, earth, and all that is in it, that is a difficult question... City of God XXII 29

Augustine believed that, in the future life, people would “see” God in the same way that the “see” each other now. Modern philosophers often talk of “the problem of other minds”, namely – how can you be certain that the people you see around you are really people like you, with minds and thoughts of their own? After all, you can only see their bodies. Augustine points out that although we cannot literally see other people’s minds, we know that they have them from the way that they behave. There is a sense in which we can “see” other people’s minds, although we do not do so literally. And this, he suggests, is what the vision of God will be like in the resurrection life. In this life, we can “see” God in the world around us only faintly, and we need faith to do so; but in the future life, we will “see” God in the world around us directly.

Aquinas repeated this notion of the “beatific vision”, but he believed it was even more dramatic than Augustine had suggested. Rather than “seeing” God in the world around them, Aquinas argued that the saints would “see” God directly – that is, God’s essence, the very divinity of God.

Final and perfect happiness can consist of nothing else than the vision of the divine essence. To make this clear, two points must be observed. First, that human beings are not perfectly happy as long as there is still something for them to desire and seek. Second, the perfection of any power is determined by the nature of its object. Now the object of the intellect is “what a thing is”, i.e. the essence of a thing... So the intellect attains perfection, in so far as it knows the essence of a thing... So, for perfect happiness, the intellect needs to reach the very essence of the First Cause. And thus it will have its perfection through union with God as with that object, in which alone human happiness consists. Summa Theologiae I 2 iii 8

In the late Middle Ages, there was some controversy over when, precisely, people could expect to enjoy this beatific vision... the orthodox Christian belief in the Middle Ages was that, at death, the soul goes to heaven (or hell), where it waits until the general resurrection from the dead: at this point it is reunited with its body and judged. Augustine had spoken of the beatific vision as a reward that comes after this judgement. But what about the souls waiting in heaven right now? Many people in the Middle Ages thought that they might be allowed to enjoy the beatific vision too. In the early fourteenth century, Pope John XXII denied that they could. His successor, Benedict XII, overruled John’s views and issued the following decree in 1336:

We define that the souls of all the saints in heaven have seen and do see the divine essence by direct intuition and face to face, in such a way that nothing created intervenes as an object of vision, but the divine essence presents itself to their immediate gaze, unveiled, clearly and openly; moreover, that in this vision they enjoy the divine essence, and that, in virtue of this vision and this enjoyment, they are truly blessed and possess eternal life and eternal rest. Benedictus Deus

This has been the orthodox Catholic view ever since.

Union with God

The belief of the eastern Orthodox churches has, historically, been rather different. Where Catholicism has held that the faithful will see God, the Orthodox have insisted that the faithful will be united to God... immortality, for some Orthodox theologians, is a matter of the human soul becoming so close to God that it is impossible to tell the difference. For many Christians, indeed, this is what salvation is, a notion that can be derived from the New Testament. In 1 Corinthians 15:54, Paul writes that, at the resurrection, the bodies of believers will become incorruptible and immortal. But, according to 1 Timothy 6:16, these qualities belong to God alone: the future life, then, will be one of sharing in God’s qualities. 2 Peter 1:4 tells its readers that they will “become participants in the divine nature”. As the fourth-century theologian Athanasius famously put it, “[God] became man so that man could become God” (On the incarnation 54).

The Christian writer most associated with this idea in its early centuries was Gregory of Nazianzus, who was briefly patriarch of Constantinople until he was deposed in AD 381. Gregory – known as the Theologian for his work in seeking to understand the Trinity – coined the Greek term theosis to express his hope for the future of humanity. Theosis literally means “deification”, and Gregory believed that this is something that will happen to the whole person, not just the soul. For Gregory, this would happen above all at the end of time, at the final resurrection:

God will be all in all in the time of restitution... when we shall be no longer divided (as we now are by movements and passions) and containing nothing at all of God, or very little, but shall be entirely like. Oration 30.6

But it is something that comes only through Christ. Like Athanasius before him, Gregory was convinced that salvation comes through the fact that, in Christ, humanity and divinity meet. And Christians can hope to share in this meeting themselves. Gregory speaks almost as though human nature and divine nature are tangible “things” that can literally touch. Since the divine nature has “touched” human nature in Christ, it is now accessible to everyone, meaning that, through Christ, everyone can hope to become divine:

...in the character of the form of a servant, [Christ] comes down to his fellow servants – no, to his servants, and he takes on a strange form, bearing all of me and mine in himself, so that in himself he may bring evil to an end, as fire does wax, or as the sun does the mists of earth; and so that I may share in his nature by the blending. Oration 30.6

Although Gregory of Nazianzus would always be closely associated with the doctrine of deification, another name frequently invoked by later theologians was that of Maximus the Confessor. This seventh-century monk was most famous for his strident opposition to the official doctrine, endorsed by the Byzantine emperor, that Christ had one will (a divine one). Maximus believed that this doctrine denied Christ’s true humanity, and for his views, he was arrested and had his right hand cut off and his tongue torn out. Later, however, Maximus’ views were vindicated at the Third Council of Constantinople, and he became revered as a confessor (one step down from a martyr). Why was this issue so important? Maximus believed that any denial of the true union of God and humanity in Christ was, in effect, a denial of the possibility that anyone else might be united to God. Like earlier theologians, Maximus was convinced that it is through the incarnation that God touches humanity: through faith, human beings can become united to Christ, and this means they are united to God.

In the same way in which the soul and the body are united, God should become accessible for participation by the soul and, through the soul’s intermediary, by the body, in order that the soul might receive an unchanging character, and the body, immortality; and finally that the whole man should become God, deified by the grace of God-become-man, becoming whole man, soul and body, by nature, and becoming whole God, soul and body, by grace. Ambigua

So for Maximus, deification does not mean ceasing to be human. On the contrary, it means becoming perfectly human. Christ was not just fully God – he was also fully human. Becoming united to him means becoming fully human just as it means becoming God. Moreover, union with God means being able to realise one’s full potential as a human being. But Maximus does distinguish between being fully human “by nature” and being fully God “by grace”. Even union with God does not mean undifferentiated union: one does not literally “become” God. One participates in what God is, “by grace”.

Maximus was enormously influential on later Orthodox theologians. One of the most important of these was the fourteenth-century monk Gregory Palamas. Palamas prefers to use the metaphor of light to describe both what the mystical experience is like and how it can involve union with God:

This hypostatic light, seen spiritually by the saints, they know by experience to exist, as they tell us, and to exist not just symbolically, like manifestations produced by fortuitous events; but it is an illumination immaterial and divine, a grace invisibly seen and ignorantly known. What it is, they do not pretend to know. Triads II iii 8

For Palamas, the fact that this divine light can be (and has been) experienced by mystics means that the future goal of union with God is not some pie-in-the-sky hope that has no direct connection to our current lives; on the contrary, it is simply the logical conclusion of what begins in this life. He points out that with literal light, we can see it only because of its own presence: light is seen in light. Similarly, with the divine light, we can see it only because we begin to take on its characteristics. This means that the vision of God necessarily involves becoming united to God:

For it is in light that the light is seen, and that which sees operates in a similar light, since this faculty has no other way in which to work. Having separated itself from all other beings, it becomes itself all light and is assimilated to what it sees, or rather, it is united to it without mingling, being itself light and seeing light through light. If it sees itself, it sees light; if it beholds the object of its vision, that too is light; and if it looks at the means by which it sees, again it is light. For such is the character of the union, that all is one, so that he who sees can distinguish neither the means nor the object nor its nature, but simply has the awareness of being light and of seeing a light distinct from every creature. Triads II iii 36

So for Palamas, it is not as if the idea of deification were a sort of alternative to the western ideal of the “vision of God”. Rather, it is its logical consequence. The ultimate goal for human beings is to see God, but to see God is to become God. Indeed, he goes beyond this to suggest that the doctrine of deification is an essential part of the Christian doctrine of God itself. The reason is that, for a Christian, God is what gives human beings direction and purpose. But that means that, despite his intrinsic incomprehensibility, God must be ultimately accessible. This is the role of Christ, in whom God and humanity are perfectly and genuinely united, and who paves the way, as it were, for other human beings to become united to God. Without this possibility, God would not be “God” for us: he would have no meaning and relevance to human life:

Since there are those who participate in God, yet on the other hand the superessential essence of God is absolutely imparticipable, there must be something between the incommunicable essence and those who communicate of it... If you destroy this... you separate us from God, breaking the bond and setting up a great and unbridgeable gulf. We should then have to seek another God... a God who would be somehow accessible, in whom each one sharing in proportion as he might, could be, and live, and become, godly. Triads III xxii 24

How literally should we take this language? Does Palamas think that each Christian is in the process of becoming, quite literally, a God? Some groups within the Orthodox world have seemed to endorse this idea. One such group was the “Isochrists” of the sixth century. These Christians – whose name means “like Christ” – believed that, at the final resurrection of the dead, all Christians would become literally equal to Christ... Paul had taught that Christ was the “first fruits” of the resurrection, that is, the first person to be raised by God, and that everyone would be raised in a similar way. The Isochrists simply took this further, suggesting that if everyone was going to experience what Christ did, then everyone would be exactly the same as Christ – he was just the first. But the Isochrists were condemned for this. So too were the Khlysty, a mystical group in the eighteenth-century Russian church. They believed that God was constantly becoming incarnate in a series of Messiahs, and that through the practice of ecstatic prayer, any Christian could receive the Holy Spirit and become indistinguishable from Christ.

Palamas, however, stresses that Christians should not look forward to becoming equal to God. Just like Maximus before him, he points out that union with God means taking on the “glory” of God, but not his nature:

Thus to our human nature he has given the glory of the Godhead, but not the divine nature; for the nature of God is one thing, his glory another, even though they are inseparable from each other. Triads II iii 15

Also: Just how bad (historically inaccurate and philosophically uncharitable/prejudiced) is Russell's discussion of Catholic Philosophy in his History of Western Philosophy?

It's a long time since I read it properly. But a skim through now suggests to me that the material on the early church and the early Middle Ages is pretty good as far as it goes (it's really a lightning survey that omits a lot of important stuff, but there's not much one can do about that). I think he's too brief and harsh on Jerome and Augustine, and especially Cyril. The historical parts of the material on the Middle Ages seem pretty good although I'm not well qualified to judge. I think again that his summaries of people's thought tend to be over-brief and rather one-sided. As usual he caricatures: for example we're told "Innocent III was the first great Pope in whom there was no element of sanctity" (p. 435), which is a nice epigram but surely too extreme - after all, it was Innocent III who authorised Francis of Assisi to found the Order of Friars Minor, which a sympathetic commentator might think indicated at least some element of sanctity. He also spends far too little time on Scotus (who ought to get greater billing than Roger Bacon). It's odd to feature Matthew of Aquasparta and completely omit Henry of Ghent or Alan of Lille. In general the flaws of all this are the same as the flaws in the rest of the work, namely too much caricature. It's also important to bear in mind that it's sixty years old and both popular views of the periods in question and serious scholarship have moved on enormously. Thus, Russell spends more time on Bacon than on Scotus because in the 1940s Bacon was popularly regarded as one of the greatest of the scholastics. And also much of what he says is effectively obsolete because of the advance of scholarship since then. In general you wouldn't consult a sixty-year-old journal article on any subject unless it was something so obscure that nothing had been written since, and the same goes here. It's a good introduction in that it gives you an overview and the basic themes, but it's outdated, so you must read it with the awareness that pretty much any statement of what these figures believed may have been drastically revised since.
 
Thanks for the answers :goodjob: . So that part in Da Vinci's code (a book by Dan Brown) where they talk about the emperor deciding on Jesus's divinity has some semblance of history.
 
Thanks for the answers :goodjob: . So that part in Da Vinci's code (a book by Dan Brown) where they talk about the emperor deciding on Jesus's divinity has some semblance of history.

No, because (a) the emperor Constantine played no role in the theological discussions at the council of Nicaea; (b) the council may have issued an authoritative judgement on the matter, but given that only two bishops out of all those gathered there disagreed with it, it was clearly already a majority view even before the council; and (c) the question at hand was not the divinity of Jesus, it was the relation between the Logos and the Father - the question of the precise relation between Jesus and the Logos was a fifth-century debate, not a fourth-century one.

I think the point Margim was making about Constantine was about his endorsing Christianity and bringing it into the centre of Roman culture, rather than about any notion of Constantine actually tinkering about with what Christians believed.
 
I think the point Margim was making about Constantine was about his endorsing Christianity and bringing it into the centre of Roman culture, rather than about any notion of Constantine actually tinkering about with what Christians believed.

Yep. Thanks for clarifying for me.
 
If we're talking about a context in which predestination is true, or at least is believed to be true, then it wouldn't make much sense to think of God adjusting his plan in accordance with people's decisions, because those decisions are part of his plan to start with. If I believe in predestination then I believe that whatever I do - whether sinful or not - is what God has predetermined me to do.

But if we forget about predestination then the model you suggest would make a lot of sense, and I think it's how a lot of people - at least Protestants - would probably think of things. But still, to say that God adjusts his plan to take account of our sinful actions wouldn't be much of a justification for committing them. On the contrary, even though God might bring good out of our evil, he presumably would not bring as much good as there would have been if we hadn't sinned and if his original plan had been followed. Otherwise, that wouldn't have been his original plan, on the assumption that God always plans for the most amount of good. Any variation upon God's plan will reduce the overall good, so even though God will bring about the best consequences he can from our sin, it would still have been better not to have had it in the first place. That's what I'd think anyway.

Uh, a nice one. Let me try to elaborate this "no predestination" part, as well as the "adjust" word. Well, I'm not suggesting that God must "adjust" or "adopt" to the situation when sin is committed. What I'm trying to say is this: categories like "time" don't have much sense when speaking from the God's point of view; He knows what will happen at the "end of the time" in advance. My point is that He don't need to adjust the plan from HIS point of view, the beginning of the whole universe and the end is just "a moment" (again, meaningless word for Him). Only from OUR point of view it seems that He's adjusting the plan.

And another thing... Whatever His plan is, it definitely must be an extremely flexible (again, from OUR point of view) because of free will. And again, from HIS point of view it can be "set in stone", cause He already knows the final result.
 
Thanks for the answers :goodjob: . So that part in Da Vinci's code (a book by Dan Brown) where they talk about the emperor deciding on Jesus's divinity has some semblance of history.

In addition to the answer from Plotinus, I suggest you to read the "Breaking the Da Vinci's code" book from James L. Garlow and Peter Jones (the last one is a theologian). it explains a lot of the "facts" from the "Da Vinci's code" book.
 
Uh, a nice one. Let me try to elaborate this "no predestination" part, as well as the "adjust" word. Well, I'm not suggesting that God must "adjust" or "adopt" to the situation when sin is committed. What I'm trying to say is this: categories like "time" don't have much sense when speaking from the God's point of view; He knows what will happen at the "end of the time" in advance. My point is that He don't need to adjust the plan from HIS point of view, the beginning of the whole universe and the end is just "a moment" (again, meaningless word for Him). Only from OUR point of view it seems that He's adjusting the plan.

And another thing... Whatever His plan is, it definitely must be an extremely flexible (again, from OUR point of view) because of free will. And again, from HIS point of view it can be "set in stone", cause He already knows the final result.

Right, but that of course would assume that (a) we have free will, and (b) our free will is such that God does not know what our actions will be before creating us. Obviously these views would be incompatible with any kind of doctrine of predestination, according to which whatever kind of free will we have (if any) is not incompatible with God knowing, and even determining, precisely what we're going to do; on that view our actions are part of God's plan right from the outset, so there is no flexibility about God's plan at all. As I've said before, the difficulty with the traditional view - which is still the orthodox Catholic view - is that it claims both that we have free will and that everything we do is part of God's plan from the outset.
 
How popular are your books? I ask because I live with two theology students and wondered if they'd be likely to have copies...
 
Ha, I don't have the sales figures to hand! They're popular enough for my publisher to keep asking me to write new ones, at least, and I've seen them in bookshops all over the place. Last autumn one of them finally earned out its advance, which was a momentous occasion because most books never do that. However, since they're mostly aimed at a general readership type audience, I don't know how many students will have them. Although I have heard that at least a couple of them have been prescribed reading for courses of one kind or another, so you never know.
 
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