Category Archives: Philosophy

Too cool for school

On another occasion when Euthydemus was present, Socrates noticed that he was withdrawing from the group and taking care not to seem impressed by Socrates’ wisdom. “Gentlemen,” he said, “it is easy to see from the way in which our friend Euthydemus spends his time that, when he is old enough, he won’t refrain from advising the State on any political issue that comes up. And it seems to me that by carefully avoiding the appearance of learning anything from anybody, he has provided himself with a splendid preface to his public speeches. Evidently, when he begins to speak, he will introduce what he has to say like this: ‘Gentlemen of Athens, I have never learned anything from anybody, nor have I sought the company of any person whose abilities in speech and action I have heard of. Nor have I troubled to acquire a teacher from among those who understand these matters. On the contrary, I have consistently avoided not only learning anything from anybody, but even giving the impression of doing so. However, I shall offer you whatever advice occurs to me of its own accord.”

Such an introduction would be appropriate for candidates applying for a public medical post. They could suitably begin their speech in this way: ‘Gentlemen of Athens, I have never learned medicine from anyone, nor have I tried to secure any doctor as a teacher. I have consistently avoided not only learning anything from medical men, but even giving the impression of having learned this art. However, I ask you to give me this medical post. I shall try to learn by experimenting on you.'”

-Xenophon’s Memorabilia

How to Sin

(The following is a tangent arising out of our last class on Augustine)

What is sin? Can you define it? This should be a basic question, but we often skip over the basics. When pressed most of us would define sin as “breaking one of God’s rules.”

This definition is not incorrect, per se. The rules are useful, and following them will steer you away from a lot of common human failure modes. But it doesn’t cut to the heart of the matter. What is the unifying factor that makes breaking those rules a sin?

What is sin?

Sin is Love

To be more specific, sin is loving what you should not, or loving something that you should, but in the wrong manner. Even sin, at its core, comes down to love.

The nature of love is to unite the lover and the beloved. This, done properly, is not just a beautiful thing, it’s what we exist for. Indeed, we often mistake love itself at the marker of morality. But just as loving the wrong woman will ruin a man, so will any of our other loves if not directed properly.

Augustine had personal experience with this. When he was young, a very close friend of his fell ill and died. Augustine felt like a part of his own soul had been torn from him, because indeed it had. Friendship is not a bad thing by any stretch of the imagination; most philosophers would have actually ranked it as the greatest thing this side of eternity. But where Augustine went wrong was in seeking final contentment in his friend; in loving him as if he weren’t going to die. To find true lasting happiness, we must unite ourselves to that which is eternal.

Salvation is love

Salvation, then, is coming to love God as we should. And this gives us a hint of what it means to say that after the resurrection we will be “unable to sin.” Once we are fully transformed, we will love God truly and fully. To ask if we could love something else instead becomes something of a category error.

Could we still sin? It is analogous to asking me if I could murder my daughter. On the one hand, I am indeed physically capable of it. On the other hand, no, never, no. No no no no. This could not be. I love her, more than anything in this world. The question itself is nearly unthinkable. If I, though I am evil, am bounded so by love, how much more when I am not evil, and I can love freely and truly?

Your mind is in Pi

Suppose your mind is really nothing more than the sum of a bunch of physical processes. If so, this can be simulated on a computer (albeit a much more powerful computer than any we currently have).

When you get right down to it, computer programs are just a bunch of ones and zeroes. Every single one of them, from Plants vs Zombies, to the browser you’re reading this on, is just a really, really long number.

We’re pretty sure that π contains all finite number sequences. Your mind as a computer program is a finite number sequence. π contains that number.

Consider digital-you once more, running inside the computer. I think we can agree that he’s conscious.

What if we remove the computer? On what basis do we privilege a physical substrate, when really we’re only already interested in what it is representing in the abstract. Remove the computer, and you just have the number. From the inside, the number itself is conscious. This number feels exactly like you do right now.

And so π is not only conscious, it is teeming with minds (same goes for e and √2). Every version of every person that ever has or will exist, and infinitely more who haven’t, live within it.

This is the metaphysics of Max Tegmark.

I find it incredibly seductive, escapable only by denying the supposition in sentence 1.

Jerusalem and Athens

Back when I was studying Augustine, I found that the more I learned about his view, the more it sounded like he was basically a Calvinist. Predestination, Total Depravity, Unconditional Election, Irresistible Grace; all of these themes can be found in Augustine’s thought, a thousand years before John Calvin entered the scene. But I could never be entirely sure. Some of my sources on Augustine were themselves explicitly Calvinists; might they be filtering his thought through their own? How could I disentangle Augustine’s thought from concepts that were layered on ages later? I’m still not sure, but I think the answer is that Calvin was in fact building on ideas first put for by Augustine. Augustine may not have been a Calvinist, but Calvin was an Augustinian.1

Plato gives me a similar feeling. Reading the Republic was a watershed moment in my life. It was almost a conversion moment for me, more so even than my actual conversion, which happened when I was so young that there was very little to convert. Reading through the ancient Greeks, I get the strong feeling that at last I’m getting a glimpse behind the dark glass at the real truth of things.

Greek philosophy seems so in line with Christian theology that it’s uncanny. The very word “philosophy” literally means “lover of wisdom,” which is given the highest praise throughout the Proverbs. Using only their reason, they deduced that there was a single God underlying all creation, in whom everything has its being. They held up pursuit of Truth as the highest good, something Jesus himself would certainly agree with. They were deeply concerned with living a life of virtue, and argued strenuously for it against the Sophists. In this world, they held up “friendship” as one of the greatest goods; but the concept would be better translated as “love,” which again ties back into God himself. Basically, all that is left is to identify those threads with Jesus and you’re done.

I’m hardly the first to think so, either. As early as Justin Martyr, Christians found themselves admiring and turning to the Greeks. And here we again come to Augustine. Augustine was a Platonist, and throughout his writings he merges the two systems of thought together. And that’s the catch. Do I find Plato appealing because he’s right? Or do I find him appealing because I’ve been living my whole life under systems of thought that always had him at their root?

It may not really be that important; so long as he is right the rest is really just details. I will always be grateful to and love Plato. Apologetics gave my faith a shield, but it was philosophy that gave it deep roots.

1 We are all Augustinians, at least all of us in the West.

Love and Ambition

Blaise Pascal, famed mathematician and Christian philosopher, has some Valentine’s Day thoughts for you:

The passions which are the best suited to man and include many others, are love and ambition: they have little connec-tion with each other; nevertheless they are often allied; but they mutually weaken, not to say destroy, each other. Whatever compass of mind one may have, he is capable of only one great passion; hence, when love and ambition are found together, they are only half as great as they would be if only one of them existed.

How happy is a life that begins with love and ends with ambition! If I had to choose, this is the one I should take. So long as we have ardor we are amiable; but this ardor dies out, is lost; then what a fine and noble place is left for ambition! A tumultuous life is pleasing to great minds, but those who are mediocre have no pleasure in it; they are machines everywhere. Hence when love and ambition begin and end life, we are in the happiest condition of which human nature is capable.

I shared this with two acquaintances of mine, and they both immediately objected. Purse love before ambition? Madness! Money first, love later! (Much of our society’s advice on love could be boiled down to those four words.)

They are both unmarried, so I guess they have what they wish for. It’s worth pointing out that Pascal himself was a bachelor; he may have been speaking out of regret for a path not chosen.

People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect, but actually — from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint — it's more like a big ball of wibbly-wobbly... timey-wimey... stuff.

Confessions of St. Augustine – Chapters 11-13

People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect, but actually — from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint — it's more like a big ball of wibbly-wobbly... timey-wimey... stuff.
As we shall see, the concept of time has no meaning before the beginning of the universe. This was first pointed out by St. Augustine. When asked: What did God do before he created the universe? Augustine didn’t reply: He was preparing Hell for people who asked such questions. Instead, he said that time was a property of the universe that God created, and that time did not exist before the beginning of the universe. -Steven Hawking, A Brief History of Time
What was God doing before he created the universe?

It’s a question without an obvious answer, prompting some to snarkily respond, “preparing Hell for people who ask such question.” But that doesn’t get to the real heart of the question. If God spent innumerable ages doing nothing, why did He suddenly break the trend and create Heaven and Earth? What changed His mind? Why won’t He go back to doing nothing in the future?

Augustine’s answer is both simple and confusing:

Let him wake up and consider that he wonders at a faulty concept. From where could innumerable ages come, which you have not made, since you are the Author and Creator of all ages? Of what times should there be which have not been created by you? Or how shall they pass by if they had never been? For you made that very time. But if there was no time before heaven and earth, why is it asked what you did then? For there was no then when time was not.

The question, Augustine says, is flawed. Time itself is a part of the created world. There is not before before God created time. And since time is just another creation of God, it is not a thing that God himself is subject to.

The Big Bang

At this point, it’s worth looking back a century from our own time. For much of the 1900s, the general scientific consensus was that the universe had no beginning. It had been in existence for eternity, and would continue for eternity (this was also Plato’s view). That the Bible taught it had been created was just another example of religion contradicting science.

Now, of course, the Big Bang theory enjoys near unanimous support. We now know that the universe began at a specific moment in time. More than that, we know that not only did matter come into existence at this moment of creation; time itself did. It is probably not a coincidence that this theory was proposed by a Catholic priest; he had probably read Augustine, who had figured this out long ago. To reiterate: If you went to the best schools in the 1920s and were tutored under the top physicists of the day, you were actually less knowledgeable about the origins of the universe than if you simply read St. Augustine, writing a thousand years before Science was even invented, with only his wits and Scripture as his guide.

The Eternal Now

God being eternal means much more than that He has always existed and will keep existing forever and ever and ever. It means that God is actually outside of time itself. Page 214:

For eternity by definition is fixed and cannot be compared to the moments we experience, which are never fixed. How do we know that a long time has become long? We sense the passing by of many moments and changes. Were there no motions or changes there would be no lengths of movements to call “time.” In the eternal realm the whole must be present. In our minds we cannot imagine time in that totality now. For us, all time past is driven on by time to come, and all to come follows upon the past. But in God’s timetable of creation, all past and future are one design, flowing out of one now.

What is time, anyway?

By this point, it should not surprise you that Augustine moves on to trying to figure out what time itself is. He notes that everyone seems to think they know what time is, until they are asked to define it.

Augustine starts with the Past. But what is the Past, except something which does not exist anymore? Likewise, the Future does not exist. Only the Present can be said to actually exist, and even that passes away in an instant. If time is defined by things arriving and then immediately passing away, then time is little more than a march towards non-existence. He declares that “we cannot truly say that time exists except in the sense that it tends toward non-existence.”

He spends a long time on this idea and its paradoxes. After all, we can measure time. How can we measure an hour if all parts of the hour that are outside of Now do not even exist?

Ultimately, the best Augustine can say is that the soul is stretched out into an apparent succession of events, perhaps as part of our fall away from God and His eternal present.

Interpreting Genesis

Taking his ideas of time as a guide, Augustine turns to the book of Genesis, which even back then had many contentious interpretations.

But among so many truths which occur to inquirers in those words, understood as they are in different ways, which of us shall so discover that one meaning as to state, “This is what Moses thought,” and, “That is what he wanted understood in that narrative,” as confidently as he would say, “This is true, whether Moses thought this or that?”

Augustine separates the debate over interpretations into two categories: those concerned with the truth of the matter, and those concerned with the intent of the author. He largely dismisses the second category as unknowable.

As for the truth of the matter, Augustine argues that scripture can allow for many different “true” readings, though I hasten to add that he is not supporting relativism here. He does not believe that any possible interpretation is valid, but he is rather easy on simplistic and literalistic interpretations, so long as they act as a step towards faith in God as the creator of the universe. He additionally argues that Moses may well have been aware of the many ways his words could be interpreted, and intended all of them.

If you get why this image goes with this post, I have done well as a father.

Confessions of St. Augustine – Chapter 10

RememberConfessions now turns from autobiography to philosophy. The next few chapters can come as a bit of a shock for people; they make for more difficult reading, and it can be hard for moderns to even understand why Augustine spends as much time as he does on topics like memory. However, Augustine still has the same focus here as in the rest of the book: he is concerned with the search for God. Just as he started the story of his life with his birth, so he starts his search for God from the very beginning. After all, how can he really know God without first knowing how he knows things?

What do we love when we love God?

But what do I love when I love you? Not the beauty of bodies, nor the fair harmony of time, not the brightness of light, so gladsome to our eyes; not the sweet melodies of various songs, nor the fragrant smell of flowers and ointments and spices; not manna and honey; not the limbs that physical love likes to embrace. It is none of those that I love when I love my God.

I asked the whole frame of the world about my God; and it answered me, “I am not He, but He made me.”

Augustine interrogates each of his physical senses as he tries to determine just how it is he knows about God, and finds them all inadequate to the task. Finally, he turns inward, bringing him to the faculty of memory.

What is memory?

At its core, Augustine’s investigation of memory is really about epistemology. He wants to know how it is that we are capable of knowing things, so he can know how it is he is capable of knowing God. It should be noted that he is using “memory” in a broader sense here than we usually do.

He starts with the most basic type of memory: sensory perception. Augustine envisions his memory as a vast palace storing all kinds of images which he can retrieve with varying levels of ease. Somehow, these things can be experienced even without the original items being physically present.

This is not the only kind of memory, though. Augustine also remembers skills. These are different from sensory images in an important way: with skills, it is the thing itself that is stored in his memory, not an image of it. He moves quickly to our storage of ideas, where the thing itself is once again stored. He points out that he received many ideas by way of hearing Greek or Latin words, but the things themselves are distinct from the language they were communicated in, and it is the thing itself that he stored.

He is reaching at a deeper point here: as ideas get more abstract, many of the things he remembers are things he has never actually physically seen. Mathematical concepts illustrate this particularly well. Augustine understands quite well what the number “3” is, or what a triangle is, even though he has never actually seen them. (At this point, he is essentially talking about Platonic forms).

He has another, very Platonic concern here. Sometimes, we encounter ideas that seem self-evidently true. Plato held that learning was actually the process of re-remembering things which we forgot when we took bodily form. Augustine modifies this view a little; he implies that these things had been placed in his memory beforehand, and were just waiting for somebody to pull them out.

Emotional memory is next up, and here things start to get weird for Augustine. How can he remember emotions without feeling them? Sometimes some memories even give him the opposite emotion that they originally evoked (for example, his current sadness at his former fornication). He starts running into further contradictions. How can he remember forgetfulness? When he remembers memory, is it some image of memory that is present, or is memory itself present in his memory, that is, present inside itself? Augustine finds no answer to his questions.

Finding God

Augustine returns to the idea that some things were placed in his memory even without his having experienced them. This time, he considers the concept of a happy life. Recall how torn up he was prior to his conversion about his failure to achieve happiness. Yet, how could he know and long for a thing he had never actually experienced? Augustine is driving at much the same thing C.S. Lewis was when he said, “If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world.” We find the idea of a happy life in our memory because God placed it there, to draw us to Him.

You were not in my memory before I learned of you. Where did I find you, that I might learn of you, but in yourself, above myself.

Too late have I loved you, Oh Beauty, ancient yet ever new. Too late have I loved you! And behold, you were within, but I was outside, searching for you there-plunging, deformed amid these far forms which you had made. You were with me, but I was not with you.

God, he says, was not in his memory before he found Him, but has pledged to dwell there ever after. Yet God is not a sensory object, a skill, an idea, or an emotion. He doesn’t fit in any of the kinds of memory Augustine has investigated so far. Thus, while the search for God is an inward search, it ultimately takes the searcher outside of and above himself.

Temptations sore beset him

Augustine moves on to a different subject now, pondering over how best to avoid sin without becoming too strict (Page 189). He begins with the example of the proper place of music in church, a debate that continues to this day. He later returns to the same issue as he thinks about his own struggle with pride and a desire for praise from others (Page 197):

To receive no praise we must live an incompetent life, abandoning all praiseworthy deeds and living atrociously. Then no one should think about us without despising. What greater madness than that can be said, or thought of? But if praise uses and ought to accompany a good life and good works, we ought to no more avoid its company that we do the company of a good life itself. Yet how do I know whether I am handling something sinfully or in proper balance unless I am without it?

Bonus Material: Memory and the Trinity

Augustine returned to subject of memory in his later work On the Trinity. There he uses the human mind as an illustration of the Trinity (man is, after all, made in God’s image):

Since, then, these three, memory, understanding, will, are not three lives, but one life; nor three minds, but one mind; it follows certainly that neither are they three substances, but one substance. Since memory, which is called life, and mind, and substance, is so called in respect to itself; but it is called memory, relatively to something. And I should say the same also of understanding and of will, since they are called understanding and will relatively to something; but each in respect to itself is life, and mind, and essence.

And hence these three are one, in that they are one life, one mind, one essence; and whatever else they are severally called in respect to themselves, they are called also together, not plurally, but in the singular number. But they are three, in that wherein they are mutually referred to each other; and if they were not equal, and this not only each to each, but also each to all, they certainly could not mutually contain each other; for not only is each contained by each, but also all by each.

For I remember that I have memory and understanding, and will; and I understand that I understand, and will, and remember; and I will that I will, and remember, and understand; and I remember together my whole memory, and understanding, and will. For that of my memory which I do not remember, is not in my memory; and nothing is so much in the memory as memory itself. Therefore I remember the whole memory. Also, whatever I understand I know that I understand, and I know that I will whatever I will; but whatever I know I remember. Therefore I remember the whole of my understanding, and the whole of my will. Likewise, when I understand these three things, I understand them together as whole.

Homework

Read Book XI, where Augustine inquires into the creation of the world.

St Augustine and the Pelagian Controversy

PelagiusBy the time he wrote Confessions, Augustine had been Bishop of Hippo for several years, and had made quite a name for himself in the broader church. His autobiography was circulated far and wide, and read by many.

One such reader was named Pelagius, a prominent theologian born in Britain, but living Rome at the time. All went well until he encountered the following sentence from Book X of the Confessions:

Give what you command, and command what you will.

At this Pelagius flew into a rage. He saw very clearly what lay underneath this sentence. Why must God give what he commands? Because it is impossible to do it. Then what of human responsibility? Do we need a special gift from God even to choose to obey him?

Pelagius’ View

Pelagius was not merely reacting against Augustine; he was concerned with the moral laxity he saw all around him. He came to blame this in part on the doctrine of divine grace, which he saw as absolving humans of any responsibility to even try to be moral. The essential core of his doctrine was that mankind can avoid sinning, and that we can use our free will to choose to follow God’s commandments. There is no original sin; each person is a new free agent with the same power of choice as Adam. We are fully capable of not sinning our entire lives. Grace, in Pelagius’ view, consists of God’s twin gifts of the law and free will, telling us how to act and then enabling us to do so.

Augustine’s View

  1. Adam started in a state of being both able to sin and able not to sin.
  2. After the fall, humans become not able not to sin. As humanity’s representative, we are involved in some way in Adam’s fall, and consequently we all inherit that guilt from our parents, as well as the inability to not sin. This is known as Original Sin.
  3. Only after our redemption and death, will we finally become not able to sin.
  4. Most importantly, it is only through the grace of God that we can be saved. Even wanting to have faith in God is itself a gift given by God.

Think back over Augustine’s life story, and how it must surely have influenced his views here. When he looks back at himself as a newborn, he does not see an innocent babe, but rather a selfish creature which is merely too weak to harm those it depends on. The incident of the stolen pears reveals his utterly corrupt nature even further; he did evil merely because it was evil. Clearly he cannot be said to have a good nature.

Later in life, he becomes convinced of the truth of the Gospel, but is still unable to actually turn to God. On his own power, Augustine was simply not able to put his faith in Jesus, and trying only made him more miserable. Then, when God finally did intervene in the form of a small voice telling him to read the Bible, the transformation was instant. Augustine’s personal experience testified to the truth of the doctrine he was defending.

Fight!

Pelagius came out with a book in 414 titled On Nature defending his teachings against Jerome (translator of the Vulgate), who had already begun to criticize him sharply. Augustine responded with On Nature and Grace, and wrote further letters both to Jerome and others condemning Pelagius’s views. The next year, a synod was held to review Pelagius’s case. 12 bishops attended, and Pelagius was exonerated.

The North African church did not take kindly to this, and they convened two synods of their own in 416 (one of which Augustine attended). These held that Pelagius should be anathematized unless he renounced several of his doctrines. They addressed letters directly to the Bishop of Rome, Pope Innocent I, along with some Pelagian literature. Innocent agreed, and cut Pelagius off from communion.

This pope died shortly thereafter, and his successor wavered a great deal on whether or not to rescind the condemnation. Politics ensued, and on May 1 418, the African church held a council of 200 bishops which condemned Pelagianism in very specific and clear terms, which the pope finally decided to back. The doctrines of justifying grace and original sin were affirmed to be essentials of the faith. For good measure, Pelagianism was condemned once more at the Ecumenical Council of Ephesus in 431.

Homework

We’ll now turn back to Confessions. The autobiographical portion of the book is over; the remainder is dedicated to Augustine’s philosophical musings. Our abridgments cut this section far too short, so please read the full version of Book X (online here). This will be more difficult than the previous readings, so take your time.

Pelagian Reading Material

“Give what you command, and command what you will.” -Confessions, Book 10, Chapter 29

Pelagius’ Own Account of the Faculties, Quoted.

PelagiusLest, however, it should chance to be said that we either do not correctly understand what he advances, or malevolently pervert to another meaning what he never meant to bear such a sense, I beg of you to consider his own actual words: “We distinguish,” says he, “three things, arranging them in a certain graduated order. We put in the first place ‘ability;’ in the second, ‘volition;’ and in the third, ‘actuality.’ The ‘ability’ we place in our nature, the ‘volition’ in our will, and the ‘actuality’ in the effect. The first, that is, the ‘ability,’ properly belongs to God, who has bestowed it on His creature; the other two, that is, the ‘volition’ and the ‘actuality,’ must be referred to man, because they flow forth from the fountain of the will. For his willing, therefore, and doing a good work, the praise belongs to man; or rather both to man, and to God who has bestowed on him the ‘capacity’ for his will and work, and who evermore by the help of His grace assists even this capacity. That a man is able to will and effect any good work, comes from God alone. So that this one faculty can exist, even when the other two have no being; but these latter cannot exist without that former one. I am therefore free not to have either a good volition or action; but I am by no means able not to have the capacity of good. This capacity is inherent in me, whether I will or no; nor does nature at any time receive in this point freedom for itself. Now the meaning of all this will be rendered clearer by an example or two. That we are able to see with our eyes is not of us; but it is our own that we make a good or a bad use of our eyes. So again (that I may, by applying a general case in illustration, embrace all), that we are able to do, say, think, any good thing, comes from Him who has endowed us with this ‘ability,’ and who also assists this ‘ability;’ but that we really do a good thing, or speak a good word, or think a good thought, proceeds from our own selves, because we are also able to turn all these into evil. Accordingly,—and this is a point which needs frequent repetition, because of your calumniation of us,—whenever we say that a man can live without sin, we also give praise to God by our acknowledgment of the capacity which we have received from Him, who has bestowed such ‘ability’ upon us; and there is here no occasion for praising the human agent, since it is God’s matter alone that is for the moment treated of; for the question is not about ‘willing,’ or ‘effecting,’ but simply and solely about that which may possibly be.”

Augustine on those who deny the necessity of God’s grace

Augustine in his studyThey, however, must be resisted with the utmost ardor and vigor who suppose that without God’s help, the mere power of the human will in itself, can either perfect righteousness, or advance steadily towards it; and when they begin to be hard pressed about their presumption in asserting that this result can be reached without the divine assistance, they check themselves, and do not venture to utter such an opinion, because they see how impious and insufferable it is. But they allege that such attainments are not made without God’s help on this account, namely, because God both created man with the free choice of his will, and, by giving him commandments, teaches him, Himself, how man ought to live; and indeed assists him, in that He takes away his ignorance by instructing him in the knowledge of what he ought to avoid and to desire in his actions: and thus, by means of the free-will naturally implanted within him, he enters on the way which is pointed out to him, and by persevering in a just and pious course of life, deserves to attain to the blessedness of eternal life.

Luther’s Disputation Against Scholastic Theology – 1517

luther
1. To say that Augustine exaggerates in speaking against heretics is to say that Augustine tells lies almost everywhere. This is contrary to common knowledge.

2. This is the same as permitting Pelagians and all heretics to triumph, indeed, the same as conceding victory to them.

3. It is the same as making sport of the authority of all doctors of theology.

4. It is therefore true that man, being a bad tree, can only will and do evil [cf. Matt 7,17-18].

5. It is false to state that man’s inclination is free to choose between either of two opposites. Indeed, the inclination is not free, but captive. This is said in opposition to common opinion.

6. It is false to state that the will can by nature conform to correct precept. This is said in opposition to [Duns] Scotus and Gabriel [Biel].

7. As a matter of fact, without the grace of God the will produces an act that is perverse and evil.

8. It does not, however, follow that the will is by nature evil, that is, essentially evil, as the Manicheans maintain.

9. It is nevertheless innately and inevitably evil and corrupt.

10. One must concede that the will is not free to strive toward whatever is declared good. This is in opposition to Scotus and Gabriel.

11. Nor is it able to will or not to will whatever is prescribed.

12. Nor does one contradict St. Augustine when one says that nothing is so much in the power of the will as the will itself.

17. Man is by nature unable to want God to be God. Indeed, he himself wants to be God, and does not want God to be God.

18. To love God above all things by nature is a fictitious term, a chimera, as it were.

29. The best and infallible preparation for grace and the sole disposition toward grace is the eternal election and predestination of God.

30. On the part of man, however, nothing precedes grace except indisposition and even rebellion against grace.

87. Since law is good, the will, which is hostile to it, cannot be good.

88. And from this it is clear that everyone’s natural will is iniquitous and bad.

Antidote to the Sixth Session of the Council of Trent on the Doctrine of Justification – John Calvin (1547)

John Calvin[Catholics] assert that we are prepared by the grace of God for receiving Justification, but they assign to this grace the office of exciting and assisting, we ourselves freely co-operating; in other words, we are here treated with the inanities which the sophists are wont to babble in the schools. But I ask, Is it the same thing to excite a will, and aid it when in itself weak, as to form a new heart in man, so as to make him willing? Let them answer, then, whether creating a new heart, and making a heart of flesh out of a heart of stone, (both of which the Scripture declares that God does in us,) is nothing else than to supply what is wanting to a weak will. But if they are not moved by these passages, let them say whether he who makes us to be willing simply assists the will. Paul claims the whole work for God; they ascribe nothing to him but a little help. But for what do they join man as an associate with God? Because man, though he might repudiate it, freely accepts the grace of God and the illumination of the Holy Spirit. How greatly do they detract from the work of God as described by the Prophet! — “I will put my law,” says he, “in your hearts, and make you to walk in my precepts.” (Jeremiah 32:39; Ezekiel 36:27; Hebrews 8:10; 10:16).

Is this the doctrine delivered by Augustine, when he says, “Men labor to find in our will some good thing of our own not given us of God; what they can find I know not?” (Aug. Lib. de Precator. Merit. et Remiss. 2.) Indeed, as he elsewhere says, “Were man left to his own will to remain under the help of God if he chooses, while God does not make him willing, among temptations so numerous and so great, the will would succumb from its own weakness. Succor, therefore, has been brought to the weakness of the human will by divine grace acting irresistibly and inseparably, that thus the will however weak might not fail.” (Aug. de Corruptione et Gratia,) But the Neptunian fathers, in a new smithy, forge what was unknown to Augustine, viz., that the reception of grace is not of God, inasmuch as it is by the free movement of our own will we assent to God calling. This is repugnant to Scripture, which makes God the author of a good will. It is one thing for the will to be moved by God to obey if it pleases, and another for it to be formed to be good. Moreover, God promises not to act so that we may be able to will well, but to make us will well. Nay, he goes farther when he says, “I will make you to walk;” as was carefully observed by Augustine. The same thing is affirmed by Paul when he teaches, that, “it is God that worketh in us both to will and to do of his good pleasure.” The hallucination of these Fathers is in dreaming that we are offered a movement which leaves us an intermediate choice, while they never think of that effectual working by which the heart of man is renewed from pravity to rectitude. But this effectual working of the Holy Spirit is described in the thirty-second chapter of Jeremiah, where he thus speaks in the name of God, “I will put the fear of my name into their hearts, that they decline not from my commandments.” In short, their error lies in making no distinction between the grace of Regeneration, which now comes to the succor of our wretchedness, and the first; grace which had been given to Adam. This Augustine carefully expounds. “Through Christ the Mediator,” he says, “God makes those who were wicked to be good for ever after. The first man had not that grace by which he could never wish to be bad; for the help given him was of that nature that he might abandon it when he would, and remain in it if he would, but it was not such as to make him willing. The grace of the second Adam is more powerful. It makes us will, will so strongly and love so ardently, that by the will of the spirit we overcome the will of the flesh lusting against it.” A little farther on he says, “Through this grace of God in receiving good and persevering therein, there is in us a power not only to be able to do what we will, but to will what we are able.” (Aug. Lib. ad Bonif. 2, c. 8.) Although the subject is too long to be despatched thus briefly, I feel confident that my statement, though short, will suffice with readers of sense to refute these fancies.

All who have their conscience exercised feel the strict truth of Augustine’s sentiment, “The righteousness of saints in this life consists more in the forgiveness of sins than the perfection of virtues.” (Lib. de Civit. Dei, 19 c. 27.) Still more accurate is another passage which I quoted, that; “so long as they groan under the infirmity of the flesh, the only hope left them is, that they have a mediator in Christ by whom they are reconciled to God.”

Jacob Arminius

Jacobus Arminius
I. The first absolute decree of God concerning the salvation of sinful man, is that by which he decreed to appoint his Son, Jesus Christ, for a Mediator, Redeemer, saviour, Priest and King, who might destroy sin by his own death, might by his obedience obtain the salvation which had been lost, and might communicate it by his own virtue.

II. The second precise and absolute decree of God, is that in which he decreed to receive into favour those who repent and believe, and, in Christ, for his sake and through Him, to effect the salvation of such penitents and believers as persevered to the end; but to leave in sin, and under wrath, all impenitent persons and unbelievers, and to damn them as aliens from Christ.

III. The third Divine decree is that by which God decreed to administer in a sufficient and efficacious manner the means which were necessary for repentance and faith; and to have such administration instituted (1.) according to the Divine Wisdom, by which God knows what is proper and becoming both to his mercy and his severity, and (2.) according to Divine Justice, by which He is prepared to adopt whatever his wisdom may prescribe and put it in execution.

IV. To these succeeds the fourth decree, by which God decreed to save and damn certain particular persons. This decree has its foundation in the foreknowledge of God, by which he knew from all eternity those individuals who would, through his preventing grace, believe, and, through his subsequent grace would persevere, according to the before described administration of those means which are suitable and proper for conversion and faith; and, by which foreknowledge, he likewise knew those who would not believe and persevere.
This is my opinion concerning the free-will of man: In his primitive condition as he came out of the hands of his creator, man was endowed with such a portion of knowledge, holiness and power, as enabled him to understand, esteem, consider, will, and to perform the true good, according to the commandment delivered to him. Yet none of these acts could he do, except through the assistance of Divine Grace. But in his lapsed and sinful state, man is not capable, of and by himself, either to think, to will, or to do that which is really good; but it is necessary for him to be regenerated and renewed in his intellect, affections or will, and in all his powers, by God in Christ through the Holy Spirit, that he may be qualified rightly to understand, esteem, consider, will, and perform whatever is truly good. When he is made a partaker of this regeneration or renovation, I consider that, since he is delivered from sin, he is capable of thinking, willing and doing that which is good, but yet not without the continued aids of Divine Grace.

The Telos of Kitty Cats

Cat have I loved, but dog have I hated.My cat, Plato, died this month of sudden heart failure. One moment he was eating supper, the next his body was sprawled on the ground, and he was gone. At least he died doing what he loved.

Plato was a good cat.

But what does that mean? He never donated large sums to charity, or prevented a robbery, or saved a life, or bequeathed deep wisdom, or even earned a paycheck. He wasn’t even exceptional looking; that is an actual picture of him there, but you could be forgiven for having thought it was a stock cat photo. If I lived the life Plato did, I would be considered a shiftless bum.

But Plato was not a human. He was a cat, and he was a good one.

Plato’s namesake gave us a concept known as telos. A thing’s telos is its goal or purpose. Everything has a telos, and different types of things have different teloses. Spoons, forks, trees, mice, men, and women are each different things with different purposes. Traits that make one of those things good may very well make another one bad. When Paul speaks of the many parts of the body, he is describing exactly this diversified community of telos. God made different things for different ends, and He will only expect from them in proportion to what they have been given.

Plato was a cat, and he was a good one. When we visited to the animal rescue, we only intended to take home his sister. He took it upon himself to curl up in my lap and purr himself to sleep. That earned him a home, and he never tired of earning his keep, filling my empty lap whenever it was possible, and often making a strong attempt even when it wasn’t possible. He liked gazing out the window at the birds, squeaking at them and dreaming of fresh food. On a few lucky occasions he found and dispatched mice which were making their homes where they shouldn’t have. When I worked from home, he would brave a dog 4 times his size in order to be near me. When I went to bed, he would lie on my chest and purr some more. When it grew cold, he would climb underneath the covers and form his own tiny warm cave.

I do not know if animals go to Heaven. I hope, and even suspect, that they do, but I have no real data to work from. But I do know that Plato was a good cat, and our lives were better for having him in it. Plato loved us, and I credit it to him as righteousness.

Rest in peace, kitten.