The video below shows what careful readers like C.S. Lewis have known all along: that the Gospels are eyewitness accounts of real events. In essays like "Modern Theology and Biblical Criticism" Lewis shows that the literary technique of the Gospels is not like that of ancient myths; that in fact it is not a "literary technique" at all, simply "reportage." Episodes such as Jesus writing in the dust while talking to a woman, or the man who escapes the guards by squirming out of his tunic at the Garden of Gethsemane, are either true events "or else, some unknown writer in the second century, without known predecessors or successors, suddenly anticipated the whole technique of modern, novelistic, realistic narrative" (Lewis).
Dr. Peter Williams in the video below makes a similar case, arguing that the occurrence of names, places, and geography in the canonical Gospels is strong evidence of their authenticity.
HT: First Things
Showing posts with label Church History. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Church History. Show all posts
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Music: Sing or Listen?
“Does God intend us to merely listen to music--or to sing ourselves?So should we sing more and listen less? It's an interesting idea I thought I'd pass along. Approaching the subject from a secular and somewhat different angle, Allan Bloom has this harsh criticism to add:
Theologian T.M. Moore answers this question in an article he wrote for BreakPoint Online called “Whatever Happened to Singing?” Its curious, Moore writes, that Scripture gives us no specific guidance in how to listen to music. Music, according to the Bible, is not the spectator sport we have made it to be. Instead, we find many commands to sing.” --Chuck Colson (1)
“But if we look at the progress of our scientific civilization we see a gradual increase everywhere of the specialist over the popular function. Once men sang together round a table in chorus; now one man sings alone, for the absurd reason that he can sing better. If scientific civilization goes on (which is most improbable) only one man will laugh, because he can laugh better than the rest.” --G.K. Chesterton (2)
“As long as they have the Walkman [ipod!] on, they cannot hear what the great tradition has to say. And, after its prolonged use, when they take it off, they find they are deaf.” (3)The developed argument for singing more can be found at http://www.breakpoint.org/features-columns/archive/1067-whatever-happened-to-singing. I'm not saying listening to music is wrong or saying ipods should be burned, but even on the surface it is obvious that half-listening while preoccupied engages neither the mind nor the emotions; it stirs neither man's reason nor his passions.
(1) Chuck Colson http://www.breakpoint.org/commentaries/11759-how-good-it-is-to-thank-the-lord
(2) As quoted in Thomas C. Peters, The Christan Imagination: G.K. Chesterton on the Arts. San Franscisco, Ignatius Press, 2000. pg. 89-90
(3) Allan Bloom, The Closing of the American Mind, New York. A Touchstone Book, Simon and Schuster inc. 1988. pg. 81.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Some Reflections On Bad Writing and Imperfect Churches
The artistic black and gilt designs flowing over the green cover of a volume published in 1869, led more than anything to my reading of Westbrook Parsonage. This appalling Christian romance novel by Harriet B. McKeever confirms the old warning not to judge a book by its cover. The writing was atrocious.
The ho-hum story follows the entire history of a family at Westbrook Parsonage. The plot (if it had one; I don't remember) was boring. I don't usually disparage writing styles—one monkey should not deride another monkey's fleas—but this was painful to read. Here is a specimen of the author's abrupt, present tense style (if style it can be called): “Warren is impetuous and self-willed, daring in his nature... He is standing at the gate, with Alice, his darling pet: she is a beautiful child, with deep blue eyes, and a profusion of golden curls; she is a sparkling little girl, very fond of brother Warren, who is proud of his lovely sister.”
Imagine an entire book that goes on like that. The world would be a better place if some of those punctuation marks were omitted, a few periods substituted, and lastly, a wholesale alteration of tense and syntax were effected. The character's conversations are little better. They too are abrupt and and contain none of that small talk expected in a normal exchange. Take this artist's rendering of a typical dialogue:
Question. (Serious and troubled).
Answer. (Compassionate and fatherly).
Reply. (Relieved and at peace).
End of conversation. As can be seen, such dialogues are short and to the point.
As if this defect in writing were not enough, the heated defense of protestantism is enough to make one cringe. While it claims to defend Protestant freedom from Roman Catholic ritualism, what it really does is defend one type of ritualism from another type. I was rolling with laughter when one of the heroines asked where such popish formality was to be found—no, not in the Bible—in the Book of Common Prayer! After thus repeatedly invoking the authority of the Book of Common Prayer and Protestant church tradition (not Biblical tradition), I lost all remaining respect for the book.
Why did I waste time reading the entire thing? I have no idea. Sadistic curiosity I suppose. But here is the thing, this author, unknowingly, is a very great teacher. Looking at a long forgotten doctrinal conflict about ritual from a 150 years away can shed light on the dubious traditions of our own churches. McKeever has her fictional characters react to the obviously unspiritual practices of her time but is strangely blinded to her own extra-biblical additions to the faith. It is worth pondering what there is in our Christianity that is merely inanity and not Christ. Even though it looks different from 19th century ritual, we are not exempt from extra-biblical tradition either. We may take pride in boasting we are not like Rome or like the unknowingly hypocritical characters in a 19th century didactic novel, but have we really reached the true core of God-centered spirituality? We peal away and discard those things that it eventually becomes clear are absurd, but underneath? Like Eustuce the-boy-turned-dragon of C.S.Lewis's Narnia story, we may peal off dragon skin after dragon skin only to find a smaller version of the same dragon underneath. Only with the help of Aslan is it possible to get down to the real boy within and discard the heavy exterior that only gets in the way. But beware, his claws are sharp, and his clause is that we obey only him.
“See to it that no one takes you captive through hollow and deceptive philosophy, which depends on human tradition and the basic principles of this world rather than on Christ.” Col. 2:8
Friday, May 29, 2009
Early Christians Speak
My last post on the growth of the early church was an essay for my Western Civilization class (Thankfully now over). While writing it I scoured my bookshelves for material and had quite a little pile of reference works on my desk. Some of them I had read before and some of them I don't plan on ever reading; however, one book is particularly handy to have around when dealing with the history of the early church. The book is Early Christians Speak: Faith and Life in the First Three Centuries by Everett Ferguson.
Although I wasn't able to glean much from it during the writing of this essay, it has been invaluable in the past. I first stumbled across it at the Simpson University library a few years ago while researching a high school paper on early Christian poetry. After that I put it on my Christmas list and received my own copy. It is more of a reference resource than something to read through. The book is divided into chapters, each one dealing with an issue of early church life and practice such as baptism, worship services, the Lord's Supper, military service, etc. The thing that makes this book great is that it is a collection of quotes. The title says it all: Early Christians Speak, not some historian almost two thousand years later. Each chapter has 10-20 relevant quotes from early church fathers and Christian apocrypha from the first three centuries. But never fear, if this seems too simple and straightforward there is also a heavily footnoted “discussion” of the material at the end of each chapter which regurgitates the information and gives some helpful historical scholarship.
A list of relevant New Testament passages are given at the beginning of each chapter so that the quotes of the fathers can be compared to them. Everett Ferguson explains in his forward that “there is, thus, a stress on historical continuity. We are talking about the same community of people, the same church, as existed in the New Testament. We are tracing out some features of its historical development through the second century” (vii). Other features of the book include a glossary, time chart, and extensive index of references.
I have not read it all but, as I mentioned before, the chapter on “Some Early Christian Hymns and Poetry” was invaluable. Other chapters I've found fascinating are: “Christian Assemblies,” “Early Worship Services,” “The Love Feast,” and “Women in the Early Church.” With each of the nineteen chapters an average of twelve pages long it is possible to get a fairly good understanding of what the early church's position on these topics were without spending a great deal of time reading and studying. Building the book around what early Christians actually said in primary documents makes this an authoritative reference. It is also interesting to hear the very words that early Christians speak.
Everett Ferguson, Early Christians speak: Faith and Life in the First Three Centuries. 3rd edition, ACU Press, Abilene, Texas, 1999.
The Spread of the Early Church
Like an unwatched fire creeping through the leaves before setting the forest on fire, the early Christian church, from unpretentious beginnings, began to threaten even the mighty Roman Empire. It began in a far-away insignificant corner of the Empire. The arsonist: a gentle man of whom it was said: “a bruised reed he would not break.” This man claimed he was God; an idea so ludicrous to the authorities of the time that they crucified him. They wrote off the lunatic without even considering the possibility that he might really be Lord. He said that his kingdom was not of this world, and by the way his first subjects acted, it would appear that he was right. His high ranking officials were fishermen and other unpretentious poor people of no account. His subjects spanned broad demographic lines, scattered across the known world. We will examine the rapid spread of Christianity in the first century A.D and some of the unsuccessful efforts by the Romans to stop the fire from spreading.
The impetus behind the spread of Christianity in the First Century was Jesus' command to his fellow Jewish followers to, “go make disciples of all nations.”1 Quickly spreading from the Middle-eastern Judea, Christianity was soon known in much of the Roman Empire. Jerusalem started out as the major center of Christianity. It was here that Jesus was crucified and here that his few disciples remained and began preaching the Gospel. The primary documents from the period show that in the days after the death of Jesus there were about a hundred and twenty Christians in Jerusalem.2 This number quickly grew till there were some five thousand Christians in Jerusalem soon after Jesus' death.3 The number continued to increase until the Jewish authorities in power became jealous of the rapidly increasing influence of this new religion.
Persecution against Christians began with the imprisonment of leading believers, called apostles. When, in rebellion to the temporal authorities, these men refused to give up their freedom of speech and instead continued to speak to others about their faith, the punishment grew more violent. Flogging and stoning along with imprisonment became common. A first century writer states that: “a great persecution broke out against the church at Jerusalem, and all except the apostles were scattered throughout Judea and Samaria.”4
The persecution in Jerusalem had this unforeseen and ironic effect: it caused fleeing Christians to rapidly disperse over a wide area, thereby disseminating their beliefs in areas not previously acquainted with Christianity. Because of the unique message of Christianity being a fulfillment of the Jewish law and prophesies, Jews in Israel were particularly receptive to it. As Christianity continued to spread it followed the footsteps of Jews sojourning in other parts of the Roman Empire. This large and scattered diaspora of Jews—by some estimates as many Jews lived abroad as lived in Palestine5--had established synagogues in the cities and towns where they had taken up residence. Such an arrangement made it easy for Jewish Christians fleeing the persecutions in Jerusalem and other areas of the Jewish province to resettle with members of their own culture in what were considered “Gentile” cities. Christians fleeing to other parts of the Roman Empire were, therefore, missionaries from necessity as well as conviction.
Using synagogues as pulpits in many cases and reasoning from Jewish scripture that the claims of Christianity were true was an effective way to spread Christianity. To the Jews, that is. Soon though, Christianity began reaching non-Jews also. As one of the earliest examples of this, a first century history explains: “Now those who had been scattered by the persecution in connection with Stephen traveled as far as Phoenicia, Cyprus and Antioch, telling the message only to Jews. Some of them, however, men from Cyprus and Antioch, went to Antioch and began to speak to Greeks also, telling them the good news about the Lord Jesus.”6 The missionary activity of Paul also had a great deal to do with the expansion of Christianity beyond Jews only.
Paul must figure large in any examination of the growth and spread of Christianity. A Roman citizen but also a Jew, he had a Greek education as well as a Hebrew training. He was an apt man to persuasively bring Christianity to the attention of Jews, Greeks, and Romans. He established churches across the Mediterranean region and had a lasting influence. Yet it is an error to think that he single-handedly took Christianity across the Roman Empire. Churches in many major cities, including Rome, were already established before Paul visited, showing just how quickly Christianity spread. Indeed, “by the end of Paul's life, outposts of the new faith were flourishing from the Holy Land north to Syria and across the northern rim of the Mediterranean through Asia minor and Greece and Rome.”7
The end of Paul's life brings to mind the new trouble facing Christians about three decades after the death and resurrection of Christ. Emperor Nero in 64 A.D began a bloody persecution of the Christians living in Rome that also extended to other parts of the Empire. According to tradition, Paul was beheaded by Nero in Rome. Before this time Christians had largely escaped the notice of the Roman government. The official cause of this persecution was the fire that destroyed much of Rome. Blaming Christians was a convenient way to get rid of what was thought to be a disruptive segment of society. Christians by this time had become a nuisance to the government for their refusal to worship the Emperor; for their condemnation of Roman vice; and for considering themselves citizens of heaven first and citizens of the Roman Empire second.8 Their religion made them outsiders and potential dissidents of the state. Christians were sometimes called atheists because, “for the Romans, religion was first and foremost a social activity that promoted unity and loyalty to the state--a religious attitude the Romans called pietas, or piety.”9 By rejecting the Roman paganism, Christians were thought to be disrupting the unity of society. So while Nero was a more likely arson suspect in the burning of Rome, Christians were the perfect scapegoat.
In the first century, Christians were still very much a minority despite their explosive growth. While estimates vary, historian Edward Gibbon suggests that before the conversion of Constantine in 312, only about one in twenty Roman subjects professed Christianity. Those living in Rome at the time of Nero's persecution “did not exceed seven thousand.”10 Nevertheless, “by the year 100, it is estimated that there were already upward of 300,000 believers throughout the empire—an eight fold increase in 30 years--and of these some 80,000 were concentrated in Asia Minor.”11 Dr. Everett Ferguson reveals that the main centers of Christianity were, not surprisingly, in the main cities of the Empire: Antioch, Ephesus, Corinth, and Rome. Further he says, “At the end of the first century Ephesus and the Roman province of Asia were the center of the numerical strength of the church.”12
The demographics of Christians in the first century covered a broad spectrum. Pliny the Younger reported to Emperor Trajan that Christians composed “persons of all ages and classes and of both sexes... The contagion of this superstition has spread not only in the cites but in the villages and rural districts as well.”13 Christianity was not just a religion of the poor and downtrodden, but proportionally there have always been a greater number of disadvantaged. Edward Gibbon points out that
Maybe it was ideas like these that gave Christianity part of its appeal. The unity and largeness of it transcended class and nationality. Everyone could become a Christian and feel they had a place. This unity was also perhaps what earned it the hatred of the established authorities. For Christians said that there was another king in another sphere, in which the Roman and Jewish rulers had no authority. No wonder it spread like wildfire and could not be contained by the Jews or Romans. When Nero set the Christians on fire to light his garden at night, he mockingly said: “now you are the light of the world,”16 not knowing that the fires he was lighting would be swallowed up in a greater spiritual fire that that would in turn swallow up the Roman Empire.
The impetus behind the spread of Christianity in the First Century was Jesus' command to his fellow Jewish followers to, “go make disciples of all nations.”1 Quickly spreading from the Middle-eastern Judea, Christianity was soon known in much of the Roman Empire. Jerusalem started out as the major center of Christianity. It was here that Jesus was crucified and here that his few disciples remained and began preaching the Gospel. The primary documents from the period show that in the days after the death of Jesus there were about a hundred and twenty Christians in Jerusalem.2 This number quickly grew till there were some five thousand Christians in Jerusalem soon after Jesus' death.3 The number continued to increase until the Jewish authorities in power became jealous of the rapidly increasing influence of this new religion.
Persecution against Christians began with the imprisonment of leading believers, called apostles. When, in rebellion to the temporal authorities, these men refused to give up their freedom of speech and instead continued to speak to others about their faith, the punishment grew more violent. Flogging and stoning along with imprisonment became common. A first century writer states that: “a great persecution broke out against the church at Jerusalem, and all except the apostles were scattered throughout Judea and Samaria.”4
The persecution in Jerusalem had this unforeseen and ironic effect: it caused fleeing Christians to rapidly disperse over a wide area, thereby disseminating their beliefs in areas not previously acquainted with Christianity. Because of the unique message of Christianity being a fulfillment of the Jewish law and prophesies, Jews in Israel were particularly receptive to it. As Christianity continued to spread it followed the footsteps of Jews sojourning in other parts of the Roman Empire. This large and scattered diaspora of Jews—by some estimates as many Jews lived abroad as lived in Palestine5--had established synagogues in the cities and towns where they had taken up residence. Such an arrangement made it easy for Jewish Christians fleeing the persecutions in Jerusalem and other areas of the Jewish province to resettle with members of their own culture in what were considered “Gentile” cities. Christians fleeing to other parts of the Roman Empire were, therefore, missionaries from necessity as well as conviction.
Using synagogues as pulpits in many cases and reasoning from Jewish scripture that the claims of Christianity were true was an effective way to spread Christianity. To the Jews, that is. Soon though, Christianity began reaching non-Jews also. As one of the earliest examples of this, a first century history explains: “Now those who had been scattered by the persecution in connection with Stephen traveled as far as Phoenicia, Cyprus and Antioch, telling the message only to Jews. Some of them, however, men from Cyprus and Antioch, went to Antioch and began to speak to Greeks also, telling them the good news about the Lord Jesus.”6 The missionary activity of Paul also had a great deal to do with the expansion of Christianity beyond Jews only.
Paul must figure large in any examination of the growth and spread of Christianity. A Roman citizen but also a Jew, he had a Greek education as well as a Hebrew training. He was an apt man to persuasively bring Christianity to the attention of Jews, Greeks, and Romans. He established churches across the Mediterranean region and had a lasting influence. Yet it is an error to think that he single-handedly took Christianity across the Roman Empire. Churches in many major cities, including Rome, were already established before Paul visited, showing just how quickly Christianity spread. Indeed, “by the end of Paul's life, outposts of the new faith were flourishing from the Holy Land north to Syria and across the northern rim of the Mediterranean through Asia minor and Greece and Rome.”7
The end of Paul's life brings to mind the new trouble facing Christians about three decades after the death and resurrection of Christ. Emperor Nero in 64 A.D began a bloody persecution of the Christians living in Rome that also extended to other parts of the Empire. According to tradition, Paul was beheaded by Nero in Rome. Before this time Christians had largely escaped the notice of the Roman government. The official cause of this persecution was the fire that destroyed much of Rome. Blaming Christians was a convenient way to get rid of what was thought to be a disruptive segment of society. Christians by this time had become a nuisance to the government for their refusal to worship the Emperor; for their condemnation of Roman vice; and for considering themselves citizens of heaven first and citizens of the Roman Empire second.8 Their religion made them outsiders and potential dissidents of the state. Christians were sometimes called atheists because, “for the Romans, religion was first and foremost a social activity that promoted unity and loyalty to the state--a religious attitude the Romans called pietas, or piety.”9 By rejecting the Roman paganism, Christians were thought to be disrupting the unity of society. So while Nero was a more likely arson suspect in the burning of Rome, Christians were the perfect scapegoat.
In the first century, Christians were still very much a minority despite their explosive growth. While estimates vary, historian Edward Gibbon suggests that before the conversion of Constantine in 312, only about one in twenty Roman subjects professed Christianity. Those living in Rome at the time of Nero's persecution “did not exceed seven thousand.”10 Nevertheless, “by the year 100, it is estimated that there were already upward of 300,000 believers throughout the empire—an eight fold increase in 30 years--and of these some 80,000 were concentrated in Asia Minor.”11 Dr. Everett Ferguson reveals that the main centers of Christianity were, not surprisingly, in the main cities of the Empire: Antioch, Ephesus, Corinth, and Rome. Further he says, “At the end of the first century Ephesus and the Roman province of Asia were the center of the numerical strength of the church.”12
The demographics of Christians in the first century covered a broad spectrum. Pliny the Younger reported to Emperor Trajan that Christians composed “persons of all ages and classes and of both sexes... The contagion of this superstition has spread not only in the cites but in the villages and rural districts as well.”13 Christianity was not just a religion of the poor and downtrodden, but proportionally there have always been a greater number of disadvantaged. Edward Gibbon points out that
the Christian religion,which addresses itself to the whole human race, must consequently collect a far greater number of proselytes from the lower than from the superior ranks of life. This innocent and natural circumstance has been improved [to falsely show]... that the new sect of Christians was almost entirely composed of the dregs of the populace.”14What Gibbon and Pliny are trying to say is what Christian belief does say. “There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.”15
Maybe it was ideas like these that gave Christianity part of its appeal. The unity and largeness of it transcended class and nationality. Everyone could become a Christian and feel they had a place. This unity was also perhaps what earned it the hatred of the established authorities. For Christians said that there was another king in another sphere, in which the Roman and Jewish rulers had no authority. No wonder it spread like wildfire and could not be contained by the Jews or Romans. When Nero set the Christians on fire to light his garden at night, he mockingly said: “now you are the light of the world,”16 not knowing that the fires he was lighting would be swallowed up in a greater spiritual fire that that would in turn swallow up the Roman Empire.
1. Matthew 28:19
2. Acts 1:15
3. Acts 4:4
4.
5. Joseph L. Gardner, editor. Atlas of the Bible: An Illustrated Guide to the Holy Land. Reader's Digest Association, Inc. 1983, second edition. 205.
6. Acts 11:19-20
7. Joseph L. Gardner, editor. Atlas of the Bible: An Illustrated Guide to the Holy Land. Reader's Digest Association, Inc. 1983, second edition. 204.
8. Boise State University. “Disasters: An Ancient Persecution”. http://www.boisestate.edu/history/ncasner/hy210/nero.htm
9. Religion Facts. “Persecution in the Early Church.” http://www.religionfacts.com/christianity/history/persecution.htm
10. Edward Gibbon, The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. Edited and abridged by D. M. Low. Harcourt, Brace and Company, New York, 1960. pg.184, 187.
11. Joseph L. Gardner, editor. Atlas of the Bible: An Illustrated Guide to the Holy Land. Reader's Digest Association, Inc. 1983, second edition. 205.
12. Everett Ferguson. Early Christians Speak: Faith and Life in the First Three Centuries. A.C.U. Press, Abilene, Texas, 1999, third edition. 11.
13. Henry Bettenson, editor. Documents of the Christian Church. Oxford University Press, New York, 1960, eighth printing. 7.
14. Edward Gibbon. The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. Edited and abridged by D.M.Low. Harcourt, Brace and Company, New York, 1960. 187.
15. Galatians 3:28
16. Boise State University. “Disasters: An Ancient Persecution”. http://www.boisestate.edu/history/ncasner/hy210/nero.htm
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Philosophy in the High Middle Ages
The philosophy of the High Middle Ages was a mix of Aristotle and Christianity. While the Early Middle Ages were dominated by platonic thought, Aristotle's philosophical system had a resurgence in the writings of such celebrated philosophers and university teachers from the High Middle Ages as Thomas Aquinas, John Duns Scotus, and William of Ockham. According to Paul Vincent Spade: “This 'recovery' of Aristotle in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries was a momentous event in the history of medieval philosophy.”1
To understand why a Greek philosopher who died some fifteen hundred years before should have such a great influence on the philosophy of the High Middle Ages it is necessary to understand the attitude of the period to the past. Previous philosophers and writers were looked upon with near reverence. Greek and Latin authors in particular were treasured by the philosophers of Western Europe.2 These previous writers were “authorities,” whether on history, literature, science or philosophy. Albert Ascoli explains the unchallenged influence the past had on medieval intellectuals: “In the Middle Ages an “author” (Latin auctor and autor; Italian autore) was not any old writer of literature, but was instead, and against the modern definition, a person who possessed auctoritas [authority], and who might also have produced texts that were known as auctoritates.”3 He explains further that they are almost exempt from challenge and believed to have a corner on the truth.4
Unfortunately, since they considered a wide range of authors to all be right they ran into a problem. C.S. Lewis explains: “they find it hard to believe that anything an old auctor has said is simply untrue. And they inherit a very heterogeneous collection of books; Judaic, pagan, Platonic, Aristotelian, Stoical, Primitive Christian, Patristic... Obviously their auctors will contradict one another.”5 Trying to remedy the blatant contradictions between the pagan philosophers and the Christian Patriarchs became the overarching goal of the philosophers in the High Middle Ages. This attempt came to be called scholasticism.
Scholasticism was not so much a philosophy itself as a framework in which to look at and compare different philosophies. The medieval mind loved to organize things so when the jumbled mass of Greek and Roman philosophy tumbled into the Christian edifice, the scholastics picked up the pieces and constructed a new building that recycled elements from both. On the one hand, points out Paul Vincent Spade, classical pagan philosophy—particularly Aristotle—was “crucial for the development of medieval philosophy.” On the other hand, Spade reveals that the early Christian philosopher Augustine from the fifth century who had such a crucial role in orthodox church doctrine was “an authority who simply had to be accommodated. He shaped medieval thought as no one else did.”6 The self-appointed task of the scholastics was to synthesize these two philosophical systems.
At this point it should be clear that philosophy during the middle ages cannot be separated from theology. The philosophers of that time were theologians and vise versa. St. Thomas Aquinas is indisputably the greatest of these philosopher churchmen. He called philosophy the handmaiden of theology. His book written in Latin called the Summa Theologiae was “the first completed attempt to establish Christian theology as a scientific discipline.”7 Aquinas's life and work was the high point of philosophy in the High Middle Ages. He embodied the thinking of the scholastics when he wrote: “it is impossible that those things which are of philosophy can be contrary to those things which are of faith.”8
Some other distinctive philosophical questions from the High Middle Ages include the problem of evil and the possibility of freewill. In addition, the High Middle Ages were famous for the development of logic that took place at this time. I. M. Bocheński, in his study on the history of logic classified this period as one of the three greatest periods in the development of logic throughout history.9
The philosophical contribution of the High Middle Ages should not be underestimated. It was one of the most sophisticated mental climates in history. Thomas Aquinas, the leading philosopher of the period, is considered one of the greatest philosophers of all time. Gorge Gracia asserts that, “In intensity, sophistication, and achievement, the philosophical flowering in the thirteenth century could be rightly said to rival the golden age of Greek philosophy in the fourth century B.C.”10
To understand why a Greek philosopher who died some fifteen hundred years before should have such a great influence on the philosophy of the High Middle Ages it is necessary to understand the attitude of the period to the past. Previous philosophers and writers were looked upon with near reverence. Greek and Latin authors in particular were treasured by the philosophers of Western Europe.2 These previous writers were “authorities,” whether on history, literature, science or philosophy. Albert Ascoli explains the unchallenged influence the past had on medieval intellectuals: “In the Middle Ages an “author” (Latin auctor and autor; Italian autore) was not any old writer of literature, but was instead, and against the modern definition, a person who possessed auctoritas [authority], and who might also have produced texts that were known as auctoritates.”3 He explains further that they are almost exempt from challenge and believed to have a corner on the truth.4
Unfortunately, since they considered a wide range of authors to all be right they ran into a problem. C.S. Lewis explains: “they find it hard to believe that anything an old auctor has said is simply untrue. And they inherit a very heterogeneous collection of books; Judaic, pagan, Platonic, Aristotelian, Stoical, Primitive Christian, Patristic... Obviously their auctors will contradict one another.”5 Trying to remedy the blatant contradictions between the pagan philosophers and the Christian Patriarchs became the overarching goal of the philosophers in the High Middle Ages. This attempt came to be called scholasticism.
Scholasticism was not so much a philosophy itself as a framework in which to look at and compare different philosophies. The medieval mind loved to organize things so when the jumbled mass of Greek and Roman philosophy tumbled into the Christian edifice, the scholastics picked up the pieces and constructed a new building that recycled elements from both. On the one hand, points out Paul Vincent Spade, classical pagan philosophy—particularly Aristotle—was “crucial for the development of medieval philosophy.” On the other hand, Spade reveals that the early Christian philosopher Augustine from the fifth century who had such a crucial role in orthodox church doctrine was “an authority who simply had to be accommodated. He shaped medieval thought as no one else did.”6 The self-appointed task of the scholastics was to synthesize these two philosophical systems.
At this point it should be clear that philosophy during the middle ages cannot be separated from theology. The philosophers of that time were theologians and vise versa. St. Thomas Aquinas is indisputably the greatest of these philosopher churchmen. He called philosophy the handmaiden of theology. His book written in Latin called the Summa Theologiae was “the first completed attempt to establish Christian theology as a scientific discipline.”7 Aquinas's life and work was the high point of philosophy in the High Middle Ages. He embodied the thinking of the scholastics when he wrote: “it is impossible that those things which are of philosophy can be contrary to those things which are of faith.”8
Some other distinctive philosophical questions from the High Middle Ages include the problem of evil and the possibility of freewill. In addition, the High Middle Ages were famous for the development of logic that took place at this time. I. M. Bocheński, in his study on the history of logic classified this period as one of the three greatest periods in the development of logic throughout history.9
The philosophical contribution of the High Middle Ages should not be underestimated. It was one of the most sophisticated mental climates in history. Thomas Aquinas, the leading philosopher of the period, is considered one of the greatest philosophers of all time. Gorge Gracia asserts that, “In intensity, sophistication, and achievement, the philosophical flowering in the thirteenth century could be rightly said to rival the golden age of Greek philosophy in the fourth century B.C.”10
1. Paul Vincent Spade: The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy: “Medieval Philosophy.” http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/medieval-philosophy/
2. Jackson J. Spielvogel Western Civilization: A Brief History, 3rd ed. (Thomson-Wadsworth, 2005). 164
3. Albert Russel Ascoli. Dante and the Making of a Modern Author. http://www.cambridge.org/catalogue/catalogue.asp?isbn=9780511380464&ss=exc
4. Ibid.
5. C. S. Lewis. The Discarded Image: An Introduction to Medieval and Renaissance Literature. (Canto Books, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1995). 11
6. Paul Vincent Spade: The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy: “Medieval Philosophy.” http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/medieval-philosophy/
7. Thomas Gilby, editor. Summa Theologiae, Volume 1: The Existence of God. (Image Books, Doubleday and Company, 1969). 12
8. As quoted in Jackson J. Spielvogel. Western Civilization: A Brief History, 3rd ed. (Thomson-Wadsworth, 2005) 166
9. As cited in Paul Vincent Spade: The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy: “Medieval Philosophy.” http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/medieval-philosophy/).
10. Gorge Gracia and T.B. Noone. A Companion to Philosophy in the Middle Ages, London 2003 pg. 1
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Reflecting on the "Emerging Church"
There seems to be quite a stir going on over what it means to be an "Emerging Church" inside the Emerging Church. I've always been a bit confused over what the term means, but now Dan Kimball, author of The Emerging Church, posts on his blog that he too is, "finding that the term has become so broad now and so confusing." But maybe none of us should be surprised that a word like "emerging" that denotes movement and change is doing just that: changing.
The "emerging conversation" is starting to sound like an argument as some groups all of a sudden try to distance themselves from "emerging" or scramble for some other label like "missional" or "emergent." One blogger noted that there is now a polarizing movement with leaders like Kimball on the right focusing on evangelism and others on the left embracing a more liberal theology. I've been out of the loop for a while so maybe this has been building for some time. If I get the chance I would like to understand the Emerging Church a little more and maybe post my findings. We'll see. Until then you might want to check out Dan Kimball's post, which he promises is the first of a series.
The "emerging conversation" is starting to sound like an argument as some groups all of a sudden try to distance themselves from "emerging" or scramble for some other label like "missional" or "emergent." One blogger noted that there is now a polarizing movement with leaders like Kimball on the right focusing on evangelism and others on the left embracing a more liberal theology. I've been out of the loop for a while so maybe this has been building for some time. If I get the chance I would like to understand the Emerging Church a little more and maybe post my findings. We'll see. Until then you might want to check out Dan Kimball's post, which he promises is the first of a series.
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