Hi Devadatta —
There is something of a major shift in Catholic theological expression, since Vatican II, which might not be obvious to all (the 'speed' at which we move has become the stuff of legend).
It used to be that the Decalogue, for example, was delivered in rather Charlton Heston terms, with Moses standing before a mountain, roiled in smoke, pulsing in aflame, riven by lightning, his voice against a rolling backdrop of thunder ... "These are the rules, and if you break them, then so help me ... "
Today we try and view it differently ... quietly ... simply ... "If you want to be with Me, then this is what I require of you ... " No threats, just an open offer, an invitation. A price, perhaps, but a small price, in the scheme of things — "I will walk among you, and will be your God: and you shall be my people" (Leviticus 26:12).
But from mine it is different, and if you will allow me to quote the Common and Angelic Doctor, it's only because he puts it in a nutshell:
"Whether sacred doctrine is a matter of argument?
I answer that ... , As other sciences do not argue in proof of their principles, but argue from their principles to demonstrate other truths in these sciences: so this doctrine does not argue in proof of its principles, which are the articles of faith, but from them it goes on to prove something else; as the Apostle from the resurrection of Christ argues in proof of the general resurrection (1 Corinthians 15). However, it is to be borne in mind, in regard to the philosophical sciences, that the inferior sciences neither prove their principles nor dispute with those who deny them, but leave this to a higher science; whereas the highest of them, viz. metaphysics, can dispute with one who denies its principles, if only the opponent will make some concession; but if he concede nothing, it can have no dispute with him, though it can answer his objections. Hence Sacred Scripture, since it has no science above itself, can dispute with one who denies its principles only if the opponent admits some at least of the truths obtained through divine revelation; thus we can argue with heretics from texts in Holy Writ, and against those who deny one article of faith, we can argue from another. If our opponent believes nothing of divine revelation, there is no longer any means of proving the articles of faith by reasoning, but only of answering his objections — if he has any — against faith. Since faith rests upon infallible truth, and since the contrary of a truth can never be demonstrated, it is clear that the arguments brought against faith cannot be demonstrations, but are difficulties that can be answered."
ST I-I, q1, a8 (emphasis mine)
As has been well argued, because A is a myth, and B shares common traits with A, that does not thereby mean B is also a myth.
From this side of the fence, Divine Love is foremost, and frames everything ... including St Paul, as his impassioned outcry to the Church in Corinth tesifies and is, perhaps, one of the most famous texts in the whole of Scripture. This idea of Divine Love, that saturates the New Testament, is the lens through which the texts should be read, and interpreted, and if not, then I can fully understand how one might assume a doctrine of subservience. Love is the hermeneutic key, it is the foundation of Christian epistemology.
That Christianity was a contagion that swept the world, as it was understood, like wildfire, was the reason why Constantine rode to power, clinging to its tail. But within a short time, dissent and dispute sundered the order that the emperor sought. The attempt at Nicea (325) to establish one, single, universal profession of Faith failed to silence the Arian threat ... Arius and his oppenent Athanasius were in and out (the latter no less than 5 times) as emperors came and went.
From then on emperors sought to manouvre the Councils towards their own pragmatic ends, and for the most part failed. There is more evidence of councils ignoring the will of the emperor than following it — at least in the Latin West. A good example is Chalcedon — two attempts by emperors to unite the disputing parties were thoroughly thrown out by the Bishops and theologians. The outcome of Chalcedon was a schism between the Church and what became the Oriental Orthodox in Egypt (the followers of Nestorius had already fallen away). Something the emperor did not want, but could not alter, nor heal. Egypt was the breadbasket of the Byzantine empire, and the schism began its loss, and contributed to the collapse of the Holy Roman Empire. The Greek East did later succumb to this imperial policy of integralism, by simply declaring certain issues were not to be discussed at all — and the light of the east, that pushed the boundaries of theological knowledge for some 700 years, was extinguished.
How? By getting back to the basics ... what we call ressourcement, the return to the sources of Faith.
God bless,
Thomas
The feeling is mutual.I genuinely hate leaving behind any harsh feelings, so I’m glad you’ve taken this in stride.
Agreed. If I have misread your intention, I apologise ... your post was a long way from some of the 'Christianity is a pile of crap" posts I have read in my time.But returning to the idea of different perspectives – not wanting to beat the “woods” analogy into the ground! – I think again that it’s a question of negotiation, of finding fruitful ways for different perspectives to interact. When one legitimate perspective simply tries to dominate another – or is perceived to be doing so – then we have the kind of discordance and consequent noise you’ve referred to.
OK. The only point I wished to offer was that such obedience is not 'blind', as much as it might appear so.Now, in the present case my perspective is basically the history of the “cult of obedience” in the Western tradition
There is something of a major shift in Catholic theological expression, since Vatican II, which might not be obvious to all (the 'speed' at which we move has become the stuff of legend).
It used to be that the Decalogue, for example, was delivered in rather Charlton Heston terms, with Moses standing before a mountain, roiled in smoke, pulsing in aflame, riven by lightning, his voice against a rolling backdrop of thunder ... "These are the rules, and if you break them, then so help me ... "
Today we try and view it differently ... quietly ... simply ... "If you want to be with Me, then this is what I require of you ... " No threats, just an open offer, an invitation. A price, perhaps, but a small price, in the scheme of things — "I will walk among you, and will be your God: and you shall be my people" (Leviticus 26:12).
That's from your perspective.... first, because it’s not part of my faith; second, because I’m not specifically addressing Thomistic or even Christian theology, but the larger historical context of their evolution. By definition, this is an outside perspective which is not going to find the resolutions in Thomistic theology that you may very well find, from your inside perspective. So quite legitimately you can explain your perspective with the equipment of Thomistic theology, but a theological debate in these circumstances doesn’t make a lot of sense.
But from mine it is different, and if you will allow me to quote the Common and Angelic Doctor, it's only because he puts it in a nutshell:
"Whether sacred doctrine is a matter of argument?
I answer that ... , As other sciences do not argue in proof of their principles, but argue from their principles to demonstrate other truths in these sciences: so this doctrine does not argue in proof of its principles, which are the articles of faith, but from them it goes on to prove something else; as the Apostle from the resurrection of Christ argues in proof of the general resurrection (1 Corinthians 15). However, it is to be borne in mind, in regard to the philosophical sciences, that the inferior sciences neither prove their principles nor dispute with those who deny them, but leave this to a higher science; whereas the highest of them, viz. metaphysics, can dispute with one who denies its principles, if only the opponent will make some concession; but if he concede nothing, it can have no dispute with him, though it can answer his objections. Hence Sacred Scripture, since it has no science above itself, can dispute with one who denies its principles only if the opponent admits some at least of the truths obtained through divine revelation; thus we can argue with heretics from texts in Holy Writ, and against those who deny one article of faith, we can argue from another. If our opponent believes nothing of divine revelation, there is no longer any means of proving the articles of faith by reasoning, but only of answering his objections — if he has any — against faith. Since faith rests upon infallible truth, and since the contrary of a truth can never be demonstrated, it is clear that the arguments brought against faith cannot be demonstrations, but are difficulties that can be answered."
ST I-I, q1, a8 (emphasis mine)
Understood.Similarly, from my perspective, I can offer a kind of narrative that touches on Christianity and some of its players, based on less esoteric common knowledge and history, all of which will carry with it presuppositions, critique and no doubt some error, but it would hardly make sense for me to debate either Christian theology as such or especially how Christians should respond to the facts, theories or opinions I present.
OK.In that spirit, I offer a concluding rehash of my perspective, in more or less point form, just to save some time and space:
I can agree, as long as you allow that God for the Jews is not "an idealized, moralized, spiritualized" abstraction of the idea of kingship.That an emblematic cult of obedience was worked out in the earliest civilizations of the Middle East ...
As has been well argued, because A is a myth, and B shares common traits with A, that does not thereby mean B is also a myth.
I don't see how Jesus offers the transformation which you observe. in the case of Jesus, the rule became much, much tougher. I remember one Sufi commentator observing that in reality Christianity is far too austere for volitive man, and that it was better suited to a form of extreme ascesis within the confines of orthodox Judaism, had the latter allowed it, something like the Essenes.but that the language and conceptual order of the cult of obedience was retained and remained a troublesome if necessary? theme in Torah/Tanakh; that Jesus and no doubt other radical Jewish preachers offered transformation of this rhetorical/conceptual frame, discernable in the Gospels despite later orthodox/Pauline redactors;
Sorry my friend, but this is where, from my perspective, my first response would be, 'you haven't got Paul at all, have you' — unfairly, as many make the same assumption.that Paul rebooted the cult of obedience by identifying it with faith, and with his coercive doctrine of original sin;
From this side of the fence, Divine Love is foremost, and frames everything ... including St Paul, as his impassioned outcry to the Church in Corinth tesifies and is, perhaps, one of the most famous texts in the whole of Scripture. This idea of Divine Love, that saturates the New Testament, is the lens through which the texts should be read, and interpreted, and if not, then I can fully understand how one might assume a doctrine of subservience. Love is the hermeneutic key, it is the foundation of Christian epistemology.
Oh dear ... would that it was so! It remains a fact that the idea of an 'imperial religion' is, at tghis stage of its history, little more than a hope.that Paul’s work led to a new stage of a more dynamic ideology in the creeds and finally in the imperial religion of Constantine;
That Christianity was a contagion that swept the world, as it was understood, like wildfire, was the reason why Constantine rode to power, clinging to its tail. But within a short time, dissent and dispute sundered the order that the emperor sought. The attempt at Nicea (325) to establish one, single, universal profession of Faith failed to silence the Arian threat ... Arius and his oppenent Athanasius were in and out (the latter no less than 5 times) as emperors came and went.
From then on emperors sought to manouvre the Councils towards their own pragmatic ends, and for the most part failed. There is more evidence of councils ignoring the will of the emperor than following it — at least in the Latin West. A good example is Chalcedon — two attempts by emperors to unite the disputing parties were thoroughly thrown out by the Bishops and theologians. The outcome of Chalcedon was a schism between the Church and what became the Oriental Orthodox in Egypt (the followers of Nestorius had already fallen away). Something the emperor did not want, but could not alter, nor heal. Egypt was the breadbasket of the Byzantine empire, and the schism began its loss, and contributed to the collapse of the Holy Roman Empire. The Greek East did later succumb to this imperial policy of integralism, by simply declaring certain issues were not to be discussed at all — and the light of the east, that pushed the boundaries of theological knowledge for some 700 years, was extinguished.
Phew, that was some ride! Nicely done, by the way ...that during the Middle Ages ... an outsider might ask: how relevant does the cult of obedience remain? Is it truly intrinsic to the faith? Alternatively, what place should it have in future Christianities? And how do Christians negotiate this problem?
How? By getting back to the basics ... what we call ressourcement, the return to the sources of Faith.
God bless,
Thomas