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In our last post we looked at Pinckaers criticisms of Ockham’s Other Razor (i.e. William of Ockham’s notion of free will), which he calls “freedom of indifference.” This post is Pinckaers description of what he thinks is a more accurate notion of human freedom: freedom for excellence.
Pinckaers, Servais, O.P. The Sources of Christian Ethics, Translated by Sr. Mary Thomas Noble, O.P. Washington, D.C.: The Catholic University of America Press, 1995.
Freedom for Excellence
Freedom for excellence is first illustrated as akin to a child learning to play the piano. She must have some predispositions to learn—an attraction to music and an “ear for it” (354). In this case, her predispositions enable her to develop the freedom to play beautifully after much discipline (355). Progress is developed by regular exercise, or, a habitus (355). The ability, in the end, to play with ease, compose new music, and delight oneself and all who hear, is the stage of maturity corresponding to freedom (355). Similarly, the virtue of courage is “acquired far more through small victories of self-conquest, repeated day after day, than through dreams of great actions” (356). The author briefly mentions what he calls “the internal harmony of the virtues”—“true courage is worth little without wise discernment as to what should be done, and without self-control, justice, and generosity” (357). A notion of freedom in this framework places predispositions and natural inclinations in service of freedom (rather than opposed to it, as with Ockham’s Other Razor), in fact enabling it (357).
The root of freedom is twofold: 1) a sense of the true and good and 2) a desire for knowledge and happiness (357). These are the semina virtutum (the seeds of virtue). Our natures are inclined to sense the virtues and give spontaneious praise to them, and this is the sequi naturam (follow nature) principle of the ancients and what St. Thomas calls the instinctus rationis (rational instinct). “Far from lessening our freedom, such dispositions are its foundation. We are free, not in spite of them, but because of them” (358).
The Stages of Development
Freedom for excellence “requires the slow, patient work of moral education in order to develop” (359). The author takes us through these stages as he sees them.
Childhood corresponds to what we shall call the stage of discipline, adolescence to the stage of progress, and adulthood to the stage of maturity or the perfection of freedom. (italics added, 359)
The first stage is a delicate affair in which the moral educator must be neither authoritarian nor libertarian, but somewhere in between, making sure the “child” understands that the “discipline, law, and rules are not meant to destroy his freedom … Their purpose is rather to develop his ability to perform actions of real excellence by removing dangerous excesses” that “jeopardize his interior freedom” (360). The student must experience the love of his teacher and the love of God (362). This discipline “appeals to natural dispositions, to a spontaneous sense of truth and goodness, and to the conscience” (360).
The key characteristic of the next stage, the stage of progress is “taking one’s own moral life in hand, by a predominance of initiative and personal effort, by the development of and appreciation and taste for moral quality, and the deepening of an active interiority” (363). In is in this stage that the virtues begin to form and take shape and the “adolescent” begins to find joy in the virtues themselves and develops strong dispositions for action (363).
The final stage is that of maturity (or “perfection” in the human sense of “complete,” 366). This includes mastery of excellent actions and creative fruitfulness (366). In this stage charity is “perfected” or matured such that the persons “chief concern is to be united to God and to find all their joy in him” (368). Yet this joy passes from God to others so as to make their virtue beneficial for the community (367). Pinckaers clarifies that this description in “stages” does not necessarily mean that in experience the process is perfectly “linear,” but involves a “certain dialectic” (372). Also, one should not get the idea that once “maturity” or “perfection” is reached there is no room for growth (373).
Compared with Freedom of Indifference
Compared with the “delicate” process of moral education here, the “theory of freedom of indifference robs discipline and education of the profound, intimate rootedness they require. Education becomes a battle; it can no longer be service or collaboration” (360). Pinckaers attributes the cut-off point in moral education after only the first stage to the position found in the freedom of indifference (362). Whereas freedom to do evil is essential in freedom of indifference, it is a lack of freedom in this model (376). The reduced role of Scripture is also to be blamed on Ockham’s freedom of indifference (377). Pinckaers concludes that freedom for excellence offers “a far better foundation for receiving revelation and grace, particularly through freedom’s natural openness to the true and the good” (377).
The following is the first of two posts dealing with Servais Pinckaers account of two different conceptions of human freedom: freedom for excellence vs. freedom of indifference. Pinckaers thinks that the notion of “freedom of indifference” is bogus, and that the more classical view of free will, freedom for excellence, is much better. NOTE: Ockham’s Other Razor is my label, and does not occur in Pinckaers.
Pinckaers, Servais, O.P. The Sources of Christian Ethics, Translated by Sr. Mary Thomas Noble, O.P. Washington, D.C.: The Catholic University of America Press, 1995.
Freedom for Excellence vs. Freedom of Indifference
Moral theories characteristic of the patristic age and the great scholastic periods were dominated by questions of human happiness and the virtues and conceived of human freedom as freedom for excellence. Modern moral theories are predominated by notions of obligation and commandments and assume a notion of human freedom called freedom of indifference (329).
St. Thomas explained freedom as a faculty proceeding from reason and will, which unite to make the act of choice. … For him, free will was not a prime or originating faculty; it presupposed intelligence and will. It was rooted, therefore, in the inclinations to truth and goodness that constituted these faculties (331).
Ockham, on the contrary, maintained that free will preceded reason and will in such a way as to move them to their acts. ‘For I can freely choose,’ he said, ‘to know or not to know, to will or not to will.’ For him, free will was the prime faculty, anterior to intelligence and will as well as to their acts. (331).
Ockham’s Other Razor: Pinckaers’s Short Narrative of Moral Theory
Pinckaers is partial to Thomistic moral theory and assumes that freedom for excellence is much richer a concept for moral theory than notions of freedom of indifference (329). His disdain for moral theories based on the notion of freedom from indifference is not intended to be subtle in his account of its origins and contours. Pejorative language pervades his description of what he thinks the notion of freedom of indifference causes in moral theory—a “destruction” of the harmony between humanity and nature (333), a “banishing” of considerations of human nature and spiritual spontaneity (333), a “rupturing” of the human soul (335), “the upheaval of all moral ideas and their systematic organization” (335), a “shattering” of the beautiful Thomistic order (337), a “disruption” of the field of moral theory that yields bizarre and uncoordinated contours of human action (338).
The chapter’s basic narrative goes something like this: Moral theories were getting along wonderfully with a rich and orderly account of human nature and morality (based on Aristotle and the Fathers but expressed perhaps most fully in St. Thomas) when Ockham came along and tampered with the notion of human freedom in a way that ruptured the unity and coherency of moral theory and led to unnecessary disjunctions and false dichotomies. Ockham’s view of human freedom was like a germ that infected every aspect of moral theory, completely restructuring it and redefining all its parts. Moral theories have been infected with this disease ever since.
Although perhaps less known, this was Ockham’s Other Razor—the one that took the harmonized parts of the beautiful Thomistic synthesis between human nature and morality and cut them up into disjointed pieces. By Pinckaers’s judgment, Ockham’s Other Razor slit the throat of Thomas’ brilliant synthesis, bleeding the life out of dynamic moral theory.
Pinckaers’s Fuller Account of Ockham’s Other Razor
In Ockham’s view of human freedom, although many things can potentially influence the will, nothing can be allowed to determine the will outside itself—not human reason, not God’s will, or human emotions/desires/passions (331). Thus, it has to have the ability to choose to do what is contrary to reason, God’s will, and human passions. So, for example, it can choose to be happy or not be happy. This will is the ultimate self because even if one aspect of “the self” desires something with great passion, the will has to have the power to say “No!” This freedom was thought to be at the very core of human nature—the very “being” of a person (332). Pinckaers concludes that “this is doubtless the origin of the divorce between moral theory and the desire for happiness, which has been effected in our times” (333).
It is called freedom of indifference not because the human will cannot be influenced by something other than itself, but that it always must retain enough “indifference” (or autonomy) to never be determined by such outside influences, for if it is determined by anything outside itself, it is not ultimately “free.” In fact, “it even seemed that freedom could find no better way of asserting itself than to struggle against” human sensibilities, habits, passions, etc. (335). Only one passion can be considered primitive to man—his passion to self-affirmation, “to the assertion of a radical difference between itself and all else” (338).
No past action can determine any future action; all human action occurs in “isolated succession” such that personality, Pinckaers argues, becomes unintelligible (336-37). Pinckaers complains: “Human discontinuity is one of the basic tenets of Ockham’s psychology” (338). In this view of human freedom, anything that one might conceive of as being able to have a great deal of influence over the will is set against it (loyalty, reason, natural inclinations, desires, God will)—they become a threat to human freedom (340). This also effects the doctrine of God. The moral will is capricious because God is absolutely free—it cannot be derived from the nature of things (342). Since God’s will is revealed in the human conscience, moral theory can be worked out apart from an account of God (349). Reason’s imperatives, however, are irrational (they are not grounded in the nature of things or in the nature of God, 348).
A litany of accusations is leveled throughout Pinckaers’s account of Ockham’s view of human freedom that the reader must carefully consider. It is the “origin of the divorce between moral theory and the desire for happiness” (333); it demands human action occur in “isolated succession,” and thus makes what we call “personality” ultimately unintelligible (336-37); it sets God’s will over against the human will as one higher capricious will against a lower capricious will (342); it makes God’s will irrational because it is not based on the nature of things or on the nature of God himself (348); it creates all sorts of unnecessary dichotomies between freedom and law, freedom and grace, subject and object, etc. (350). There is much overlap between Pinckaers’ critique of freedom of indifference and the more extensive critique leveled by American theologian Jonathan Edwards.
The next post will explore what Pinckaers offers as an alternative to Ockham’s notion of freedom: freedom for excellence.
If you learned just one word a week from Theological Word of the Day … you would probably increase your theological linguistic abilities by about 200% in one year. Below are some examples.
agrapha (Gk. “not written”)
The agrapha are those sayings of Christ that were not recorded by the Gospel writers, yet are attested either in the traditions of the early church or in other New Testament books. A definite example of an agrapha is recorded in Acts, 20:35 where Paul says, “Remember the word of the Lord Jesus, how he said: It is a more blessed thing to give, rather than to receive.” These words are not recorded in the Gospels, but are part of the unwritten tradition which Paul received. The agrapha are normally found in the writings of church Fathers. If the writing has sufficient attestation in the Fathers and it does not contradict any canonical teaching, it is considered a possible instance of agrapha. One example in the early church is from Justin Martyr, Dial. 47: “Wherefore also our Lord Jesus Christ said, ‘In whatsoever things I apprehend you, in those I shall judge you.’” Many of the proposed agrapha, however, could very easily be summaries or paraphrases of canonical sayings, thus making a genuine agrapha difficult to determine.
teritum quid (Lat. “the third way”)
This phrase was first used in the forth century to refer to the Apollinarians solution to the question “Is Christ God or man?” The Apollinarians were said to have offered a “third way” in which Christ was neither God nor man. This phase is used generally to refer to a solution to a problem where there seems to be only two mutually exclusive alternatives. The dictionary refers to it as “something that cannot be classified into either of two groups considered exhaustive.” For example, in Christianity Evangelicalism is often thought of as the tertium quid to liberalism and fundamentalism. Molinism is often said to offer a tertium quid to Calvinism and Arminianism. Often the tertium quid is a resolution that offers compromise, but it can also be the option that offers a both/and approach.
__–__-____-____–HT: Theological Word of the Day
One “kind” of being, three actual beings of that “kind.” That’s it.
The concept of the Trinity (God = one in essence and three in persons) is not hard to understand. There is no mystery to it. People just get tripped up with the semantics.
If I have human triplets (who would then have a human nature [nature x]) that each grow up to have the same moral character (character y), they would all be one in essence or nature (nature x + character y = essence). Three persons, one essence.
What’s so hard about that?
Here … I’ll make it even easier. The following letters have the same essence/nature as letters of written communication with the same size even, same shape, same everything, except there’s THREE of them:
X X X
What’s so hard about that?
So … God, as defined by the Nicene Creed teaches that there are three beings who are divine, and therefore each have all that is appropriate to that divine nature. Three persons … one divine nature. One “kind” of being, three actual beings of that “kind.” Simple. Easy. Fun. Yippee. Yay.
It’s part of God’s unchanging nature to change his heart and intentions whenever people repent from their evil ways. The following is my translation of the text.
So he prayed unto Yahweh and said, “Oh Yahweh was not this my word when I was in my land? Therefore I fled before you unto Tarshish because I knew that you are a gracious God and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding with kindness and relenting from calamity. –Jonah 4:2
I was pleased to find this excerpt from Robert B. Chisholm Jr. in A Workbook for Intermediate Hebrew: Grammar, Exegesis, and Commentary on Jonah and Ruth (Grand Rapids, MI: Kregel Academic and Professional, 2006), 83.
The appearance of the participle in this list of divine characteristics suggests that God’s capacity to change his mind with respect to sending calamity … is typical of his nature, like the other attributes listed before this. In this regard see Jeremiah 18:7-8. God’s immutability (the doctrine that he is unchanging in his very essence or nature) logically demands that he be flexible in his relationships with humans. In other words, because he is immutably compassionate and predisposed to be merciful, he is willing to relent from sending calamity when human beings respond properly to his warnings. God makes plans and announces his intentions, but human response can and often does impact God’s decision as to what will actually take place.
All philosophical objections [that I’ve heard] to Actual Atonement (better known as Limited Atonement) are mistakes in logic. Perhaps the most common is the objection that a limited view of the atonement makes the universal offer of the gospel insincere.
First, we might say that if the Bible teaches on the one hand that God only intends to eternally redeem the elect, and on the other hand that we should offer salvation to all, we should conclude that God’s offer must be genuine even if our pre-conceived philosophical understanding makes the legitimacy of such an offer a genuine mystery.
Second, this objection misunderstands the nature of the offer. The universal offer of salvation is always contingent. The offer is not intended to benefit everyone, only those who repent and believe. Thus, the nature of the offer itself astronomically limits the scope of its intended benefactors by virtue of its built-in conditionality. The offer, therefore, is just as genuine as the offer “Whosoever meets the requirements for enrollment to SBTS, as well as the requirements for discounts on tuition, will be able to receive such benefits.” The offer is intended for, and voiced to, all seminary students indiscriminately, but the benefit is only intended for a select group. This contingency does not ruin the genuine nature of the offer.
Many of the other objections leveled against an actual view of the atonement are really objections against Calvinism as a whole—that it contradicts the concept of a loving God, that it is unfair, that it prohibits people who sincerely desire to be saved from actually being saved. These objections impose philosophical definitions of love, justice, and grace that are foreign to the Bible. They also misunderstand the nature of responsible Calvinism.
This post is dedicated to Celucien L. Joseph, who wrote the 1st ever post dedicated to me on the question: Is the Bible Theocentric or Christocentric? My answer: In a sense, both. Ultimately, however, I’m inclined to say it’s theocentric, since the only reason Christ is worshipped in the Bible is because he is believed to actually be … G O D.
The only grounds for being Christocentric in the Bible are based on theocentric presuppositions. That Christ is G O D in the flesh, reveals and carries out perfectly the will of G O D, reveals G O D more precisely to the people of G O D, is the mediator between G O D and humanity, reconciles people to G O D through his incarnation, death, burial, and resurrection, etc.
Given 1) the comparative amount of literature that focuses on G O D (Yahweh) vs. the smaller amount of biblical literature that focuses on Christ, and 2) the theocentric grounds for Christocentricity, a better argument can be made that the Bible is ultimately more theocentric than Christocentric.
__–__–__–__–__–__–__–__-_-_-_-__–__–_-HT: Celucien L. Joseph
If theologians were more theological, they would spend more time developing a theology of love rather than debating endlessly about things that don’t matter much.
My good friend Celucien Joseph talks about how theology in the West has incredibly narrow scope. I give an except below, but for the rest of the post go here.
I begin this paragraph with this proposition: it is fair to state that Christian Theology as a discipline, and particularly the fields of biblical studies are dominated by European descent individuals, who make interpretive decisions for “other groups” as if they are the Guardian of the Word. It is a common already presumed that European hermeneutics is the best of its kind. Let’s say it another way, consciously and unknowingly, Christian dogma has been kidnapped by Western thought, and largely designed and conditioned to advance Western culture and values, with little regard to non-western societies. We might also state, by context, it is also presupposed that Christianity is Western.
(HT: Christ, My Righteousness)