Column 04/25/2023: Apophaticism, Incarnation, Bythos: A Response to Timothy Troutner's "Five Theses on Apophaticism"

Apophaticism, Incarnation, Bythos: A Response to Timothy Troutner's "Five Theses on Apophaticism"

Once upon a time, there was a bottomless abyss of unformed, undefined, unrelated infinity.

Once upon a time, there was a single, absolutely solitary, absolutely unrelated, and so absolutely sovereign will.

Once upon a time, there was a Father and his Son.

What is God? 

Is God something?

Is God nothing?

An acquaintance of mine, Timothy Troutner, a theology graduate student at Notre Dame, has recently published "Five Theses on Apophaticism," a distillation of his dissertation in which he issues a public challenge to what he sees as a troubling trend in modern theology by which a kind of apophaticism has come to assume a "systematic, total, and regulative" governance of Christian theological doctrine. I could not possibly hope to do justice to his overall thesis, particularly in its treatment of various specific modern academic-theological trends and actors. I am not familiar with or embedded in the world of modern academic theology; I am, I think, quite familiar with the world of ancient philosophy and theology in general and Trinitarian controversy in particular, about which I am in the process of publishing a monograph. It is from this perspective, then, that I write, and which will shape my focus in responding to Troutner's theses.

Before I begin, I would direct my readers to two recent pieces I have written that lay some of the foundations for this discussion: my argument about Trinitarian theology and its relationship with ancient Platonic debates, and my attempt to summarize Hilary of Poitier's doctrine of divine equality. As will become clear, I think these articles are related to Troutner's points in several ways. For the broader points made here, I would ask readers to consult Athanasius, Hilary of Poitiers, Zlatko Plese's excellent scholarship on Gnosticism, and eventually my forthcoming monograph.

To quickly sum up my responses to Troutner below: while Troutner does appear to be in certain ways unfair to Patristic and Scholastic treatments of apophaticism, I think his argument does highlight a perennial danger for Christian theology, which to a large extent modern academic theology has not avoided, and helps us in setting some limits for apophaticism as a concept. My main critique, as will become clear, is that he seems to concede far too much to his modern apophaticists even in conceptualizing an escape from them, and thus produces a construal of the Trinity that I find very hard to accept.

Column 04/16/2023: Easter Ironies

Easter Ironies

One day, someone should make a book that simply goes through and lists all the jokes in the Bible. There are many of them, from the subtle to the gross, the large-scale to the fine-grained, the architectonic and metaphysical to the literally obscene. And they are sadly neglected.

I once read the story of a filmmaker who said that when approaching a story, the first thing he looked for was the jokes. This strikes me as fundamentally sound. After all, the main function of humor is to highlight the connections and relationships among things, events, characters; and it is in these relationships that a story most essentially consists. 

In the case of the Bible, the relationships are manifold and nearly infinite: for what are the Scriptures if not a written record of the act of Divine Revelation, by which God enters into relation with the totality of created and human reality, and then reconfigures that totality based on this new relation? 

As I write this, it is again the Easter season, and I have once more taken part in the central rites of the Church: the Triduum culminating in the great Easter Vigil. The Easter Vigil especially serves deliberately as a kind of summum of the whole liturgical year and hence of the history of Revelation, beginning with Genesis through Abraham and Moses to the Resurrection, a narrative encapsulated both in the long sequence of readings and in the rite of the Paschal Candle, as a new light is kindled in and out of the detritus of created being and spreads and illuminates and transforms all things.

This is without a doubt my favorite rite of the Church, and not merely because I entered the Church at such a vigil. It simply is the Revelation of God, arising in darkness to herald new life, the washing away of sins in Baptism, the anointing with Chrism in Confirmation, and the fulfillment of all mysteries in the Eucharist. Every year, and with every reenactment, I learn something new about this revelation, and it takes on new aspects, as I bring my own life and all that it contains, it's narratives and victories and defeats, once more within this one great Narrative.

Column 04/05/2023: Why Donald Trump Won in 2016, Why He Could Very Likely Win Again in 2024, and How to Keep That From Happening

Why Donald Trump Won in 2016, Why He Could Very Likely Win Again in 2024, and How to Keep That From Happening

In the past week, I did something I have not done since the winter of 2015: I watched a Donald Trump rally in its entirety. 

This would seem to require some kind of explanation, so let me say: I am a registered independent and currently a card-carrying member of the American Solidarity Party. I have never voted for Donald Trump. I never will vote for Donald Trump. I like to think I have a coherent, principled approach to politics--which is another way of saying that I am a registered independent signed up with a third party who has not strongly supported a candidate for public office in the last ten years. Even from that standpoint, however, the kind of politics Donald Trump, indeed the kind of public life, the kind of mass media, the kind of America Donald Trump represents is entirely anathema to me. 

However: in the Year of Our Lord 2015, I was one of those foolish ones who believed that Donald Trump was, more or less, a sideshow clown: that he had no hope of actually winning the primary, and even less hope of actually winning the Presidency. I continued to believe this up to the day Leonard Cohen died: that is, Election Day. This makes me like most people who predicted such things.

Nonetheless, looking back on that heady time, the one nagging thing that clung to me throughout the campaign season, and made me question my own reason and better judgment, was the actual experience of watching a Donald Trump campaign rally. I was frankly taken aback by the experience; as a hostile outsider, I was surprised, shocked by how compelling I found it, and how much even I was drawn in, against my better judgment, to the narrative it presented. In contrast, when I watched Hillary Clinton's DNC speech, I was taken aback by how obviously foolish her approach was and how totally uncompelling it was. Nonetheless, I continued to follow the political circus, waiting for conventional wisdom to be vindicated, and stuck with my own better judgment to the bitter end.

Next year, we will have another election day; where Donald Trump will once again be running for Presidency, and will most likely be running against Joe Biden. Conventional wisdom is once again that he stands no chance; especially with his recent indictment. De Santis is the future of the Republic Party; Trump is the past. The Republicans did poorly in the midterms; the RNC and most Republican politicians blame him for this, and have always hated him anyway. 

However, to discharge my conscience and peace of mind, I decided to make one last test: to watch another rally all the way through. If it was at all like the 2016 rally, I would then mentally prepare myself for Donald Trump winning again; and I would then totally check out of electoral politics for the next 12 months. After all, I am in no way conflicted about my vote; the only reason to follow primary and electoral events closely would be out of doubt and fear over the outcome. This time around, I could escape that unpleasant process.

So: what was my conclusion? As stated in the title, after watching the rally, I think it overwhelmingly likely that Donald Trump will be the Republican nominee for President; I think it quite likely that he will be President again. So I am done with election season.

Before I completely check out, though, I thought I would discharge my conscience about what has always been staringly obvious to me about Trump, his appeal to voters, and how to beat him. Articles on these topics have been, since 2015, a cottage industry; and every one I have seen has been, to me, not only wrong but directly counterproductive. Indeed, I am frankly shocked by how little anyone, anywhere seems to have learned from Trump and his political success, across the board. It is this, above all else, that makes me think he will likely win again in 2024. 

Before I leave America to its fate, I will do my Civic Duty by explaining what is actually responsible for Trump's remarkable political success, and how it might be possible to avoid making the same mistakes as 2016, and actually beat him this time.

04/03/2023 Column: Death of the Son, Episode Two: In Via

Death of the Son, Episode Two: In Via

[This continues my earlier post beginning a serial-style detective story about the death of Constantine's son Crispus in 326 AD. See here for episode one.]

They boarded the carriage at the Imperial cursus post at the outskirts of the City, a few stadia from the Imperial palace and near but not precisely in the army camp. Eustathius had by this time dressed himself in the white-and-gold assembly of the bishop of Antioch, surmounted by a small, black and gold pileus of the sort worn by minor Imperial officials and, increasingly, by lower clerics.

Theodotus wondered at that, a little: It is not like him to follow court fashion. He glanced around him once again, at the other clerics accompanying them, and after a second nodded quietly to himself. When it had assembled, he had thought it merely the typical public retinue that always accompanied the bishop while walking the streets of the city: a handful of priests from the chancery, perhaps a suffragan bishop visiting the capital, and (most importantly) the half-dozen or so deacons in black that for most bishops acted in the same role for which wealthier citizens used their slaves and clients: to remind them of names, faces, accounts, situations, make note of their decisions and requests, and serve as bodyguards against the dangers of the Great City. 

Yet, as he examined the faces surrounding him again, he saw the small, but important, differences. There were no bishops, not even Euphronius, who had been staying in the episcopal residence for the past week; and the priests who accompanied Eustathius, dressed in tunics of any and every color, were not senior chancery officials, but members of that small, informal party, spread throughout the City, who had helped bring Eustathius to power, faces he had seen only rarely, coming and going from the episcopal residence or deep in private conversation with the bishop. Then, perhaps most significantly, the number of deacons had all but doubled, and Theodotus noted with amusement the mixed expressions of his fellow deacons of the episcopal court. Martinus' grizzled face looked positively furious to have been dragged out of bed and made to frog-march through the City like a common cleric; but young Deodatus was positively glowing with the excitement of the journey and presence of the bishop in his splendor. 

Theodotus smiled to himself, more pleased than disturbed by Eustathius' cheek. He does not have permission to use the Imperial cursus, and hopes to overawe the soldiers into putting me onto the carriage regardless. With recent developments at court, it would probably work, too. His smile faded. To live in days when soldiers feel compelled to respect bishops...