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Apologetics Ministries | |
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Some Response from a Thoughtful Calvinist It's nice to get away from pagan copycatters now and then and get some intelligent conversation. Here we have some thoughts (and my counter thoughts) to a letter writer about our essays on TULIP, particularly the U. I'll call our correspondent "Calvino" as a convenience. (grin) It turns out that we don't have many disagreements, and much of what Calvino offers will serve well as clarification. 2/24/05: On this date I have reviewed our past correspondence in preparation for our next round of discussion. If I have anything new to say, or any changes of mind, I will note them with a date reference like this one. I asked: My question for Calvinists in this context would be, does it deny the sovereignty of God, His freedom to do as He pleases, to say that at times He may accomplish what He pleases through the most minimal of actions, and then allows what follows to take its natural course, because it likewise suits His purpose and will to do so? If so, how does this denigrate Him? As yet no Calvinist has written me with an answer. The reply: The difficulty we might have here ('we' being Calvinists) is the idea of "natural course," which, as you have distinguished here from the action or will of God, seems to hint at the kind of deistic god who winds "nature" up at the beginning and lets it go, except for occasional interventions that "break" the laws of nature. Typically, however, we would consider that God is intimately involved at all times, so that it is in fact true to say that He send the rain, provides for the animals, oversees every sparrow, etc. (as you yourself note in reference to Acts 17:28 and Col. 1:17). What we would do is suggest a different quality to His will or action, much as one might give a different quality to His omnipresence and His presence with His people (I'm sure you've had to deal with the presence/absence issue from skeptics). It's not a perfect answer, but we are talking about understanding the mode of God's sovereign will as clay trying to understand the potter--we're not going to get a perfectly satisfactory solution, since our satisfaction is often contingent upon our desire to be gods ourselves, i.e., to know everything perfectly...I don't know if that's a helpful response, but I thought I would at least fill the silence initially. That actually seems to fit more or less my point in citing the "want of a nail" poem, though differing by degree. It does not at least claim I denigrate God by minimizing His level of action; indeed it allows for different categories itself. There is of course a mystery for we will never know to what level God is involved in any given action. So the variation remains one of judgment and supposition. Also, I don't know what Calvinists you've read, but it's a fairly standard point to discuss the sovereignty of God in terms of permission (as you say: The decision to do nothing is itself a sovereign decision.), and it is in fact a distinction that some Arminians get mad at us for, saying that it doesn't really change anything, that God is still in total control and we are all like puppets. You also say that Sproul "comes close" to saying this, but it's a pretty standard point in Reformed circles (at least the churches--including Calvinistic Baptist, Prebyterian, Christian Reformed--I've attended, not to mention a Reformed seminary!). I should note that the reprobate are often to be considered to have been "passed over" in election--all are considered in their state of sinful rebellion, and God chooses some to be His possession and leaves the rest, i.e. simply fails to save and leaves them with the earned consequences of their sin. I have read Calvinists ranging from Palmer (who would find my comments objectionable if not heretical) to White (by appearance, a middle voice) to Sproul (who says the same as our friend does, as noted). Word filters to me that Palmer is on the fringe of Calvinist thought in this regard. Perhaps so. This is one reason why I eschew finding labels first to decide where someone fits. Your example of Abraham, now, doesn't take the required step indicated by God's sovereignty as Creator: you have God choosing Abraham becuase Ab. fit God's plan better than anyone else, but it was in fact God who made Ab. and his whole situation. This brings it back again to God's operation being the fully decisive one, according to His nature--it's not as though He looked around and said, "I need an old descendant of Noah somewhere in Babylonia whose wife is past childbearing years...oh, look! This Abraham fellow will do just nicely...Of course, there's Umma and his wife, but no, I think Abraham will fit better..." In fact, the geneologies of early Genesis indicate that God was preparing this particular line of Noah's... I actually agree with this; my example of Abraham was intended to be facetious (as I did say). As to the question of temporal vs. logical order, this is also a standard distinction in the discussions. No one thinks that there is a linear order in God's decrees, just as you point out. However, the decree of God to create the world needs to be logically prior to His decree to elect Israel, for example, or His decree to permit sin prior to His decree of salvation. There must be people and a world before (logically) you can choose some of them! So, there is some kind of order that is important, so that God is not conceived of as capricious, ordaining a certain number for salvation logically first, then making all the rest afterwords as dead weight (this is the infra- vs. supra-lapsarian debate within Calvinistic circles, for which we are often chided--thus, this issue is well known to us!). I haven't read Geisler or White or Palmer--my sources include Calvin, Luther, Beza, Turretin, the framers and expounders of the Westminster Confession and the Heidelberg Catechism, Charles Hodge, B.B. Warfield, etc. (not to mention the medieval theologians like Aquinas, Ockham, Bradwardine, Gottschalk, Augustine, etc.), and they dealt with all these kinds of issues at various times (I would also recommend D.A. Carson's Divine Sovereignty and Human Responsibility: Biblical Perspectives in Tension to see a Calvinist look carefully at the Biblcial data). Further note: the logical/temporal distinction is also used in understanding the order of faith and regeneration--it's not known whether there is a temporal order, but one is in fact dead, then the new life must come before the offer can be taken (cf. 1 Cor. 2:14, or Jesus on His sheep hearing His voice--the identity preceeds accepting the call). "No one" I think may exclude some extremists like Palmer (!), and the note of intermural debate suggests as much! I have heard it said that Calvin would not have been a Calvinist by some standards. Again, I wouldn't be surprised. I would like to point out one other set of distinctions that I find important in this discussion. Luther articulated a twofold will of God, at least in relation to us: the hidden will and the revealed will (this may have roots in medieval scholasticism), cf. Deut. 29:29. Can you guess which one we have any real right to talk about? One of the criticisms the Reformers had of previous theology was the mystical theology that wanted to look direction on God's unmediated essence, which involved knowing all kinds of secrets that He has not given to us to know. With Deuteronomy, the Reformed tradition has emphasized what God has revealed and tried to make some sense of it, all the while recognizing its true purpose (as in Deut.), that we would follow God. Beza, who is credited by some with leading the transition from a kinder, gentler, exegetical Calvin to the logic-chopping, deductive, proof-texting Protestant Scholastics (which characterization of the latter I heartily reject, BTW--most of the scholastic were pastors as well as theologians, and their sermons and prayers are robust examples of love and faith applied), in fact looks explicity to expound the doctrine of election for the same reason Paul did, i.e. pastorally, to give comfort to those who knew they could not please God fully and to inspire gratitude for God's unmerited (indeed, dismerited) favor so that they would follow Him out of love rather than servile fear or greed. It is also important in worship, as Luther held in his Bondage of the Will: the credit for salvation goes with the work done, so if we think that we had something to do with it, in a meritorious manner, then some of the glory will be rightfully ours, but "let he who boasts boast in the Lord..." It is also, related to this, standard to claim that God ordains the means (often revealed) as well as the ends (not revealed in detail). This is how the Reformed approach prayer, evangelism, planning for retirement, etc. We have been given certain instructions and blessings from God which we are to follow, and this is what He uses to accomplish His ends (Aquinas referred interestingly to God giving us the "dignity" of secondary but real causation). We know that God will call all of His elect and bring them to glory (He has told us so, e.g. Rom. 8:29-30), but He declares that He will call them through preaching, and we don't have access to the Book of Life, so we don't know which names are there. So, we follow God's instructions to preach the gospel, providing the external call and relying upon His Spirit to renew those whom He wishes to receive that call, rather than relying upon the increasingly manipulative techinques of "revivalism" (it has been suggested that Charles Finney, the great "evangelist" of the early 19th century, was in fact the forerunner of modern advertising, with its emotional manipulation). We know that God will in fact work all thing for the good of His people, even though we don't know what that good is exactly, but we are told to pray and given specific instructions, and we are told that our prayers will be efficacious (e.g., 1 John 5:16a). The fact that it is God who ordains all things, then, does not give us an excuse to say that He will call whomever He wants to even if no one preaches to them or that He will do what is good even if we never pray--this is setting up the hidden will as taking priority over the revealed will, which is exactly the reverse of Deut. 29:29 (and which happened in the 1924 controversy in the Christian Reformed Church over common grace--one party said that because we know that the gospel will not truly save the reprobate, but rather they will suffer more for rejecting it, then it is not really graciously offered to them; that was the minority party both in 1924 and in the historic Reformed church). Another standard in the Reformed discussions was to point out that God deals with His creatin according to its created nature, and so He does not call or elect human beings as "stocks and blocks," but rather as human being, operating in such a way that they still act as such, with mind, will, and heart intact. I have no comment or disagreement here; suffice to say it fits well with my own perceptions that early evangelism was in fact what we call apologetics, rooted in the factual basis of Jesus' life and death and resurrection, and not in any emotional manipulation. Calvino offers this personal view: Years ago, when I first became Reformed, I had a long series of conversations about this very issue, revolving around the question of whether God ordains that I will choose green socks tomorrow (it became known as the "green socks question" as a result). I have to say that since then, this matter has become much less important, at least in trying to figure how God's sovereignty and human choice operate together. Heck, I don't even know how my unconscious and conscious minds operate together to produce genuine choice (if I am dispositionally disposed to like green less than blue but more than red and to be too lazy to do laundry more often than once a week, am I really choosing to wear the green socks instead of the red ones tomorrow?), so I'm not terribly concerned with working out the details. The central point here is to give God absolutely all the credit, which is not easy to do (nor was it in the Bible--Israel and Nebuchadnezzar both thought they were responsible for all the gains that God had given them). For this reason I haven't followed all of the recent discussion over middle knowledge and so forth (although I've followed enough to know that the open theists tend to grossly mischaracterize classical theism and have severe problems of their own, like a god who--rather than having a secret will that is still according to His good and loving character--isn't able to avert disaster, or even to save people), so I don't have much of an opinion on W.L. Craig's approach, except for saying that it seems not to accord with the divine action as portrayed in Scripture: God is not merely one who sets the stage so that everything will play out just right, but rather the One who calls His people by name. Also, there is no Scriptural warrant for the "election on the basis of foreknown acceptance": the language is of God acting, not responding to our action, and the verse in Romans on foreknowledge is not a knowledge of a decision, but a relational knowledge of the person ("the ones He foreknew"--and the context is of suffering, glory, and love, not decision). I have some issue here; a "green socks" choice is one of the sort I'd see as most likely God "letting" happen in sovereignty (unless one can imagine some means whereby the choice of sock color with have some serious effect). God does get credit; even if all He does is choose to allow us to make our choice free of influence. That this may not accord with actions portrayed in Scripture really does not affect this -- choices made in Scripture are not green sock choices; they tend to be matters of earth-shaking importance! Beyond this, I of course do not accept the simple "election on the basis of foreknown acceptance" -- for me, election has occured at a much more primal stage, at that point of primary causality. Thus indeed we have relational knowledge of the person -- just not the same sort certain Calvinist writers claim. I would suggest some care in glossing mercy as "gratitude," at least with respect to God (cf. Job. 41:11). Our modern temptation is not to think too little of ourselves (is it ever?), but rather to think that God owes us something (as your experience with skeptics shows, we don't ever think that it might be judgment!)--as I coined the phrase in college, we treat God as the great vending machine in the sky: you put in the right amount (working hard and taking care of your family, praying in tongues, having "faith," doing penance) and God just has to give us something in return. As to it being personal obligation, I think you are correct in your description of God's covenant with Abraham (the Reformed tradition has, in fact, recognized and utilized the category of God's covenant with man as a set of freely self-imposed obligations for several hundred years!), but I don't think that changes the force of Romans 9, nor does your hypothetical number of the saved. In fact, it is the social context that comes to our aid here! The sons of Isaac were already under the covenant, which provided the context of the patron-client relation, and those kinds of treaties normally followed primogeniture. Than means that under the strict terms of "obligation," Esau should have received the favor of God. But that would be, according to your definition, "mercy." However, Paul's point is exactly the opposite, which means that "mercy" has a much freer and more sovereign sense than even "personal obligation of a patron to his client." As to the hypothetical number of the saved, I don't think that the passage really admits that kind of explanation. First, if that is the way God operates, why did He harden Pharaoh? That would have been the sensible choice in a numbers game! Second, and more telling, is Paul's own recognition of the transcendent nature of the claim here--he knows that to what he has said, some might reasonably ask the question of v. 19, and his reply is a "white flag" of his own, not an answer that reason will accept, but an insistence on God's authority to make some pots to hold fruit and others to be toilets (possibly the "dishonorable uses") out of the same clay (no difference of consituency between them beyond the Potter's own design!). While I don't think I would agree with Roberts in other places you've quoted him, nor do I like the terminology he uses here, this is one place where our reason cannot penetrate the hidden will of God, nor is it supposed to (cf. Job 38 ff.). I of course cannot agree that the treatment of "mercy" is a gloss -- it is a contextual treatment established through knowledge of the social and literary world of the New Testament. The matter of Esau does not alter my point -- Esau himself treated the covenant with contempt; he rejected the gracious patronage of YHWH, and so, all sense of "mercy" (obligation) by YHWH was also abandoned. Why did God harden Pharaoh? I do not think that by the numbers game, this is insensible at all; the acts preserved Israel, and from Israel would come the Messiah, through him billions would be saved -- versus a handful of Egyptians at best. I do agree that Paul is reacting as described -- that is a "book of Job" response that highlights the absurdity of men claiming, indeed, "it would be better not to have hardened Pharaoh". For a Jew who accepted God's omniscience and wisdom prima facie, such a response is automatically absurd! Calvino closed here, but later offered more comments we now look at, which also included comment on our essay on the I part of the TULIP. 1. On Rom. 9: Looking at the passage, my point about the covenant context is strengthened: Paul emphasizes that Isaac was a child of promise, and thus true offspring of Ab. He then points out that Jacob and Esau were, in fact both sons of Isaac; this takes its strength from the fact that both of them would have been considered in the covenant, and so Esau was the first in line to inherit the blessings. In fact, he was, as far as Isaac was concerned, but God's previous choice won out, through the machinations of Rebecca and the soft dweller in tents. Thus, in terms of strict patron-client (or suzerain-vassal in ANE terms), Esau could have claimed obligation to receive the blessing had he not given it away, but here, mercy then means something besides patron obligation, and God's choice, separate from any action of the twins (even Esau's selling of his birthright for a pot of lentils), was the decisive factor. As I have noted above, however, Esau's open disdain for his covenant agreement would have cancelled all obligations by God for "mercy" in the sense described, upon Esau. God owed obligations to the family -- not to a particular individual within the family. 2/24/05: We now have an exegesis of Romans 9 here. As to why "not" should not be taken in the same way that it is in Jeremiah, we are first of all changing languages, and you present no evidence that ou is used in Greek the same way that lo is used in Hebrew. Granted, there may be similarities in the background mindset, and Paul obviously knew Hebrew, but the function of negation in the different languages may in fact be different. Also, there is no contextual evidence for "not" being taken this way here. With Jeremiah, sacrifice was absolutely central to the whole Hebrew mindset in a way that "willing" and "running" are not; thus, for Jeremiah to deny sacrifice is very different from Paul rejecting willing and running. Finally, even if it is not totally excluded, the point seems still to be that we are to focus on God's actions and operations rather than our own efforts. The change of languages should make little difference here. Paul remained a Hebrew and his thought patterns remained Hebraic/Jewish. The use of the negative in this fashion remained a constant in Semitic languages all through this period and into this day. In terms of contextual evidence, the only such would have to be philosophical; which is sufficient -- it is enough to say that the coherence that the negation brings to the text is enough justification (along with the Hebrew precedent) for seeing it there. I would not doubt that focus should remain of God here; that remains so with primary causality, just at a different stage. 2. I'm not sure that I would agree with the way White puts it, but rather say, as I said in reference to Luther in the previous email, that it is a question of temptation. We need to be reminded to ascribe all glory to God, because we naturally want some of it for ourselves (at least in our own eyes, rather in God's, since He does glorify His people and we should desire that; we sinfully want to claim honor on our own terms, rather than on His, as the cases of Israel and Nebuchadnezzar show). So, this claim does not allow us to legitimately share glory with God, but it could tempt us to; again, I would emphasize the pastoral use here. See also the famous Eph. 2:8-9, which seems to indicate that those who truly receive faith will not boast about having but rather will boast in God. Thus, the ascription of all the glory to God is a mark (though not the only one) of truly having that faith. On a personal note, this is why I am dubious of those churches that have "Free Will" in their titles (I looked into moving to North Carolina, where there are hundreds of church with that title); not grace, Christ, Trinity, or anything pertaining to God, but rather an emphasis in their very names on their own role in salvation. I have no comment here, other than that seems a more judicious explanation that White's. This next section is extensive and must be divided. 3. I am waiting for an explanation of how receiving grace somehow equates with "deserving" it. I have no idea how this is a response to the quote from Sproul...With regard to the question of grace (from the irresistable grace essay), I find myself quibbling with the social scientist once again, not denying them a certain point here, but I don't think they do justice to the NT here. Even if all gift language must be interpreted in terms of the patron obligation, which I would not admit (one of the issue with the soc-sci guys is that they don't seem to allow for contemporaries to subvert common categories or mean anything different with them--this plagues Malina on, e.g., Jesus' meaning of the kingdom of God), there is a social aspect that needs to be noted in addition. As part of the gift of salvation, God adopts us (J.I. Packer's Knowing God has a marvleous chapter on this aspect). Here Calvino and I must have fundamenal disagreement. I find the plea for Malina, et al. to allow for "subversion" to be a begged question in context; one that asks to see a desired meaning against what the evidence points towards. It is the burden of the dissenter to show why terms must be read in different ways than they would have been most clearly understood by the predominant reader. Here I would trust Malina over Packer without reservation, the latter not being well-trained in the social world of the first-century Mediterranean. In terms of being a response to Sproul, it is not so much a response as a question of Sproul's premise. Now, I could be mistaken, but I don't see how that could be construed as somehow an obligation of the patron, to legally adopt the client so as to make him or her a full heir with the natural son. Of course, this was often done because the client or slave had done something spectacular for the patron or master, but there is no indication of this anywhere in the NT, that we have done something so extraordinary beyond our normal obligation that God should adopt us. Indeed, quite the reverse: we were still sinners and rebels when God took the decisive action of sacrificing His Son. Thus, this adoption is a true gift, well beyond the normal duties to a client. The normal relationship between client and patron was automatically one of mutual obligation -- whether something spectacular was part of the process or not. God's obligation comes out of His own honor and glory and nature -- His love for us. The adoption is thus also within what would be God's normal "duties" prescribed for Himself, by His own nature. Furthermore, in Ephesians the audience is Gentile, and they in fact did not stand in a patron-client relation with God (they were without God, being outside of the covenants of promise), and so their inclusion in the benefits of salvation could not by any means be an obligation upon God, since He was not their patron, but rather went right from being their Enemy to being their adopted Father. So, this turns the patron-client argument on its head: the Gentiles in Eph. 2 were not in this relationship with God, so "faith" in v. 8 is not referring to God's action as their patron, since He wasn't (see v. 19, where the status of the Gentiles is changed based upon the work of Christ and the Spirit, creating the relationship which previously was not there--they were aliens and foreigners, not fully included in the community of God). This brings the view of faith here in line with how you yourself view it in Phil. 1:29--we depend upon God, but He has given us the ability to do so (this is why it follows from the total depravity point, cf. 1 Cor. 2:14); this makes Paul's point so striking in Eph. 2. This is not quite correct in terms of the patronal process. They did not have to stand in such a relationship prior to their salvation; it only had to be the terms upon which the relationship was manifested. I have noted above how and where God's "obligation" comes to men (by His own loving nature). (**Update 11/12/04 -- I have now added more about adoption in this period, which is clearly a type of patronage. See below.) I should point out that you have not understood the Calvinist's true view of faith when you refer to it as "cognitive assent"--that's the same mistake Rome made in condemning justification by faith alone at the Council of Trent. True faith, saving faith (which is what is in view in Eph. 2) is in fact trust in the promises of God (the Reformers distinguished three aspects of faith: notitia, which means the things believed, e.g., Rom. 10:9; assensus, believing them to be true; fiducia, which means trusting in them for yourself unto salvation. Actually I have this very definition of faith (see here), to a great extent; note that the trust is rooted in performance evidence. Since I have seen this view of faith in Calvinist writers, perhaps it may be as well to say (yet again) that some Calvinist writers themselves do not present Calvinism correctly! It was only the last element that gave saving faith: the previous two could be held by demons--they know that Christ died for sinners and they know that it is true, but their response is hatred and enmity (this is where Milton got his motivation for Satan, who knows he has lost but refuses to repent). One could put this in terms of the patron-client relation: one would have to know who the patron is, name him, describe the basis of the relationship, etc. if asked for an account (as a representative was required to do in Roman judicial proceedings sometime, or in cases of military service); one would have to be able to acknowledge that yes, so-and-so is my patron; and one would have to rely on that relationship to receive any benefit. If I can describe my patron's looks and character and acheivements and acknowledge that he is my patron, but I never go to him for protection or whatever, then that relationship is only there in words and no one receives any benefit from it. Under the rubric described, such a person would never have been the client of their alleged patron at all. This does however merge well with what I have written of faith as defined best by loyalty and corresponding trust. Also, the question as to what the primary meaning of faith is in the NT is important, since that is the more specific context for Paul. Given that the verb "to believe" and the noun "faith" occur so often with a prepositional phrase (e.g., in Christ, into Christ, on Christ, etc.), the primary meaning in the NT is one of our act of belief in Jesus, rather than something else. This certainly seems to be the case in the context of Eph.: 1:13, "having believed"; 1:15, "your faith in the Lord Jesus"; 3:12, "through faith in Him." Thus, the context would indicate that Paul is talking about faith as the Christian's belief in Jesus Christ, and so even that is given by God. I did not ask Calvino if he read my article linked above on faith. I of course must regard it as more than just "our act of belief" but rather, our continuing decision of loyalty. To round out the discussion of grace, I would like to lodge a complaint about your treatment of the Reformers. Frankly, I think you dismiss Calvin too quickly in his understanding of key concepts (have you read Calvin, BTW? You certainly don't cite him...). First, the 16th century was still a time of patrons and clients, even though it was shifting to the modern nation-state (e.g., Luther's relationship to the electors of Saxony; Calvin had wealthy acquaintances who had supported him during his travels or had helped the cause of the persectued Hugenots in his native France to whom he felt it his obligation to write letters of encouragment and exhortation; the policy of "whose the region, his the religion" in the German states; the development of "covenant theology," which put the Christian faith in terms of binding legal and personal relationships not unlike patron-client ones), so they were not totally unfamiliar with the concept. Second, Calvin was intimately acquainted with the original languages of Scripture and with vast amounts of classical Greek and Roman sources that could very well have informed him of these kinds of contexts (indeed, his early training as a lawyer would have brought him into contact with the Roman legal tradition, which had thing or two to say about patrons and clients!), or with the Hebraic way of thinking (since he also knew Hebrew extremely well; Calvin may, in some ways, have been closer to the Scriptural mindset than even the rabbis, given the fact that he did recognize Israel's Messiah which the Old Testament was all about). Third, he had a vast knowledge of the Church Fathers, who wrote in a time of patron-client activity, and of the medieval theologians, who had their own brand of that in feudalism (see, e.g., a book called The Binding of God, which looks at Calvin's view of the covenant in the context of medieval thinking). So, we would do well not to make modernist assumptions about the ignorance of earlier thinkers just because we don't find terms like "patron-client obligation" or "Hebrew block thinking" in their work. They were at least closer to the ancient world, both in virtue of the remnants of feudalism and in their knowledge of the classical sources, than our modern individualism. For example, read the Westminster Confession's chapter on Providence (esp. section IV): it sounds remarkably like the description of "block logic": perspectives held in tension, rather than resolved in a drive-through manner (here is the link: http://www.opc.org/documents/wcf05.html). I will say that I have not indeed read Calvin, though I find it peculiar -- if indeed this was all in his range -- that modern Calvinist writers seem so little aware of it. I would have to ask for specific verification of his familiarity with these concepts. One thing that seems peculiar is that a book such as The Binding of God could be written at all, if Calvin indeed had enough knowledge of the first century culture to speak with authority. I also am aware that this is something of an important difference between feudalism (itself a slippery term!) and patronage. As far as Westminster's seeming awareness: I consider this to be more of an accident of the Confession seeking a resolution for a dilemma, and arriving at a reasonable solution by common sense, much as the authors of Christ the Lord answered the faith-works dichotomy with something that sounded just like the Semitic Totality Concept, without knowing what it was. 4. The issue of ergon: first, you ask whether making a decision is a work, but the issue here is faith, not making a decision. That is pretty much a modern view of faith as a one-time act of belief. I should note that Rom. 9:16 refers literally to "the one who wills," which would be indicate that what is decisive is not an internal act of the will, nor an external act ("the one who runs"). This is also probably a pair meant to be exhaustive of the whole range of human activity, internal and external (as, e.g., "heaven and earth" means "everything"). Even if we take the "not" in the soft sense, then, the emphasis still winds up on God's actions, rather than our own, whether in terms of the will or the actions. So, we should not describe our salvation as "I asked Jesus into my heart," or "I made a decision for Christ," or anything else about our activities (which is in my experience usually how salvation is presented), but rather about God and what He has done in Jesus Christ. It is important to notice that faith in the NT is referential--it always has a direction away from the person and all his own resources (which makes the modern "have faith in your faith" utterly nonsensical in NT terms), e.g., Rom. 4:19-20, Phil. 3:9. The point here is not that we don't do anything, but that what we do is not what we should be talking about, but rather about what God has done in Jesus Christ. A personal note: it was this emphasis that brought me to the Reformed tradition out of a general evangelicalism in which the focus was my own internal state of emotion--did I feel at peace? And when I did not, I was to remember what? Not the greatness of Jesus' sacrifice, not the eternal love of God, but rather the time when I made a decision or when I did feel "connected" or "close" to God. This is simply out of step with the ethos of the NT, which emphasizes the work of God in Jesus Christ (cf. my comments earlier about "Free Will" churches). Once again, my article on the definition of faith comes into play; faith by definition is an act of decision. And yes, I can agree with the emphasis still even with the soft "not" -- as it would be absurd for a person rescued from a burning building to brag of their decision to let the firefighters help them! In terms of presentation -- one can certainly agree that too much has been placed on the decision of the person in modern personal testimony; this is not representative of the missionary preaching of Acts. Indeed that faith is loyalty is a piece with that it is not self-referential, since the object of the loyalty is the one who has done all that is needed to earn it, and does make the whole "have faith in faith" rubric nonsense. The latter part is hand in hand with what I have written recently about repentance (though I posted this long after receiving Calvino's comments). 5. As to the dragging question, now who's bringing in their contemporary culture to interpret Scripture? ; ) C.S. Lewis had the feeling of being dragged into the kingdom completely against his own will, but the Reformed usually put it in terms of God changing the heart so that it does in fact will to trust in Christ...This brings me to the "wild card" of human choice. The problem is that human choice is not a wild card (taking that to mean a card that can be used to complete any hand and thus, by metaphorical extension, to mean that the human will can make the "hand" go either way--what has been called "liberty of indifference" or the "ability to will the contrary"), but is rather dead in sin or enslaved to sin. Now, neither of these important ideas indicates that a man could go either way, indeed, Rom. 3 argues exactly the opposite (no one seeks after God). Again, the point is that we were enemies up until we were made sons--there was no "wild card": to extend the analogy, it wasn't as though we had the ten through king of spades and the wild card could make it a royal flush or nothing at all; rather, we need a royal flush in spades and we have all five of our cards, nothing higher than a 6 and no spades at all. There's not an in between: we've already got a losing hand! We already stand under judgment as rebels who have attacked the honor of the king by taking it for ourselves. As Bob Dylan once put it, "There's faith and unbelief, and there ain't no neutral ground," or "Well it may be the devil, or it may be the Lord, but you're gonna have to serve somebody." (That's his 1979 album "Slow Train Comin'"). To go back to your favorite arena, the ancient context, slaves did not free themselves--they had to be freed by an act of their master. I don't think there's much cultural difference over time when it comes to people not wanting to be taken places against their will, especially unpleasant ones. 6. With regards to libertarianism: I actually agree with libertarianism relative to the natural world (i.e., our actions are not determined by any of the spatio-temporal causes studied by the natural sciences), but not with regard to God...The sovereign control of human actions is not merely generalized from a number of examples, but is also given explicit general form in Prov. 16:1, 9, 33 (actions we consider 'chance'); 21:1. I think it is enough for me to note here that the cited passages all come from (ahem) Proverbs...which are not absolutes. That is all for now. I have found Calvino's comments insightful and stimulating, and we will gladly continue. And now indeed, we have some more discussion from our earnest friend, by points. 1. Sorry I missed the note that the Abraham example was facetious. One little word... Once again, then, we seem to agree on that. Agreed. No further comment necessary. 2. You keep referring to "primary causality" in a way that seems to suggest that Calvinists don't have the same view of causality (e.g., where you say: election has occured at a much more primal stage, at that point of primary causality. Thus indeed we have relational knowledge of the person -- just not the same sort certain Calvinist writers claim.) What, then is the difference you are seeing here? I think I'm so used to the way we discuss the issue in Reformed circles that our categories aren't matching up... Perhaps so, since as I have noticed, there is much discussion over what exactly Calvinism is (and whether indeed Calvin was a Calvinist!). I would actually assume from my readings of professed Calvinist writers that they believe in both primary causality AND a more direct election, which is to say, God not only chose the world, but chose people specifically to be saved and damned as well. It's subtle, but a very important difference that I see. And I have to say that I have never seen any Calvinist writer speak of primary causality. Indeed, James White and Steve Hays have been patently offended by my insertion of the idea! 3. Your treatment of mercy is in fact a gloss: "A brief explanatory note or translation of a difficult or technical expression..." (American Heritage Dictionary) It's not a term that denigrates the authority of the gloss in itself, as your somewhat prickly reply seems to indicate you inferred. But as to the substance, Paul's point is that mercy was extended to Jacob in that the elder would serve the younger (this is in vv. 12-13, serving as an example of the principle he expounds from Exodus in vv. 15-16), before either of them did anything, i.e., before Esau sold his birthright in the covenant for a mess of pottage. So, God's mercy was operative, according to Paul, precisely in subverting the standard birth order before the elder forfeited the "obligation." So, I would suggest, that this does directly affect your point... Once again I must disagree. Mercy (obligation) was owed to one of Abraham's descendants before either Jacob and Esau were born. It was going to go somewhere, because the deal has already been made, chronologically speaking. Paul's point of the elder serving the younger reflects perfectly that it was Jacob as child of promise and covenant, not Esau the child of effort outside the covenant, and thus the obligation was fulfilled to exactly who it should have been. 4. Greek is not a semitic language, and languages do in fact function very differently, so the point about the "not" still needs to be confirmed with respect to the Greek language itself--the evidence that you brought to bear was all from Hebrew, which does not automatically apply, even if Paul was a Hebrew. In terms of contextual evidence, the only such would have to be philosophical; which is sufficient -- it is enough to say that the coherence that the negation brings to the text is enough justification (along with the Hebrew precedent) for seeing it there. Now, the Hebrew precedent is a non-starter, and the philosophical justification has to do with a coherence that you yourself have said is not necessarily what an ancient near eastern writer would have required, so you still have not addressed the point. Once again I must simply disagree. The work of Maurice Casey here, concerning the effects of bilibgual interference, shows that there is indeed NOT a burden with respect to the Greek langauge. Paul's native tongue(s) would rather constantly impose upon his use of Greek; thus indeed the application is automatic. 5. Now the "fundamental disagreement"...You claim that I'm reading in a meaning that I want to find (which is what I could easily claim about your view of the negation discussing in 4, so it proves nothing), and that the burden on me is to show how a word could be used differently than the general usage. First, this is the fallacy known as "illegitimate totality transfer": the idea that wherever a word occurs, the entire range of its conceptual meaning must always be present. The way NT exegesis of individual words proceeds is on a case-by-case basis, not by assigning the same totality every time the word occurs (Carson makes this point in Exegetical Fallacies, as do writers like Silva and Cotterell in their books on biblical linguistics), so your placing of the burden on me is not entirely accurate. Second, I am questioning the definition given by the soc-sci folks as not appearing to take into account specific usages that don't obviously fit into their schema. Given the way that Paul argues here, it is not at all clear that "mercy" has anything to do with obligation--in fact, given the context, it seems quite the opposite, since the point is God's freedom to favor whomever He wishes to give it. Now, Malina et al may have addressed this specifically in their argument for this understanding of mercy, but I haven't found that specific argument, and I'm not sure that I will, since they tend to make broad claims without citing specific evidence (at least in what I've been able to find and read). That means that I'm not simply going to accept an argument on authority, especially given some of the howlers I've seen Malina especially make (1. The view of Jesus' question about his identity to the public and the disciplines; 2. His claim that the kingdom of God in the 1st centry could only mean a geo-political kingdom; 3. His assertion that true monarchial monotheism was invented not by the Jews but by the Christians--and they stole the idea from the claims of the Roman emperor!), particularly where I do have some knowledge (e.g., Greek and Roman philosophy and literature; Greek and Hebrew language, linguistics, and hermeneutics; the actual content of the Old Testament) Finally, I was not putting up Packer as an authority against the soc-sci folks, but rather pointing out that he has a good discussion of how central the idea of adoption is to Paul's view of salvation, which then takes the discussion out of the realm of client-patron into that of inheritance and adoption, which is different. First, I cannot agree that the transfer is illegitimate, for the biblical world was one in which extreme language, hyperbole, and black and white thinking were the norm. By this reckoning, extreme language must first be regarded with caution as not meaning an absolute and the burden is on those who claim an absolute. Second, Malina et al. have not dealt with this passage directly (though I am told a volume on Paul is forthcoming); but my defense rests above. Third, I obviously take issue (grin) with the "broad claims" retort -- the work of these writers is well-documented and rooted in the broader range of social science lit. Of the three "howlers" listed I have not seen 2 or 3 claimed (I'd be interested in where?) but have seen 1, and happen to agree with it...(***Update: 11/12/04 -- more below, on how adoption was indeed a patronage relationship.) 6. I don't think you really addressed my point about adoption ( and I haven't been able to track down much on the nature of adoption in the ancient world, which could really flesh out our understanding of NT soteriology): adoption is mentioned frequently by Paul, but never "client" or "patron." To be sure, those concepts would have been in the background, but also need to be sure to deal specifically with what is in fact stated, not merely what is implicit. Hellenistic adoption was certainly a high-context concept, so further work on what it entailed would be helpful... I won't have much to address until we get to some material on adoption from back then; but I would note that the high context makes a demand for more than "implicit" indications somewhat unreasonable. In addition Paul's "frequent" adoption mentions amounts, from the looks of it, to five verses; three of these in Romans, and two in "sidelight" contexts. I would put against this the massive detail of correspondence found by the soc-sci writers (deSilva, Malina, et al) that show the client-patron relationship in some detail. What I am left to wonder is if adoption language is not itself something used to express the patronal relationship. Given the familial language used by social ingroups, this strikes me as a distinct possibility; patrons were called "father" and the description of what is done by the paterfamilias sounds just like the role of a patron. Furthermore, clients were ideally comparable to loving and greateful children. (***Update: 11/12/04 -- more below, on how adoption was indeed a patronage relationship. I found what seems to be the one extended dissertation on the topic.) 7. You make a good point about any of God's obligations to us being entirely dependent upon His own nature, although His freedom in choosing to save rebellious creatures is also important. It is important that He bound Himself, as an act of a truly sovereign will rather than as some compulsory entailment from His nature. However, your response to my point about the Gentiles is pretty thin (They did not have to stand in such a relationship prior to their salvation; it only had to be the terms upon which the relationship was manifested. I have noted above how and where God's "obligation" comes to men (by His own loving nature)). I'm not sure what you mean by it being the terms upon which the relationship was manifested. It seems to me that the NT (particularly Ephesians) indicates that with respect to the Gentiles a relationship was created where none existed before (Eph. 2:19), so it wasn't merely a matter of manifesting a relationship. Furthermore (see #6), the NT does not describe the relationship between God and His people in terms of client-patron, but rather of adoption, which is certainly a step up from client-patron in terms of privilege and intimacy. Finally, God's "obligation" does not come to all men indiscriminately, but only to those with whom He has entered into a covenant, which in the 1st cent. was only the Jews; this is why it was such a big deal to have the Gentiles included, since then were precisely those to whom nothing was due, being outside the covenants. I am afraid I do not see why it is "important that He bound Himself, as an act of a truly sovereign will rather than as some compulsory entailment from His nature," other than to preconceptions of what is required to honor God. If indeed "God is love," if indeed He embodies it, then some act of love was indeed compulsory on His part; it was as much required as God's not being able to lie. One may suggest that the particular act of love chosen was decided sovereignly. By "terms upon which the relationship was manifested" I wish to emphasize that in the patronal relationship there was always a prior point when a patron was not a patron to his client; hence the matter of the Gentiles and the argument made from Ephesians is moot in the context of my arguments. So likewise in a client-patron relationship, it was always a case of, "a relationship was created where none existed before". We have already discussed the matter of adoption versus client-patron. I agree that the "obligation" does not come indiscriminately; it comes because God is love, and because God loved the world. That in itself compelled the offer of a covenant relationship (grace) in the first place -- bearing in mind that there was priorly a covenant relationship with Adam and Noah, the forebearers of all Gentiles. (As an aside, a covenant is itself an example of patronal relationship. **11/12/04 -- as is the adoption; see below.) 8. As to faith, I did read your essay and agreed with it--I may have expressed myself badly in calling it "an act of belief." I should say that there is a range of meaning in the NT useage: sometimes it occurs in the aorist or perfect tense, which describe a completed action, so that one could point to a time when he first believed/had faith, and thus to an act of faith. Obviously, however, this is not the end of the story on faith in the NT (contrary to some of the extreme sinner's prayer Arminians I've known, where all you have to do is make a one-time decision and you're in)--in the Reformed tradition, sanctification is by faith as well as justification (appealing to Paul's "the just will like by faith," "by faith from first to last," etc.). I should also point out that you later refer to faith as "an act of decision," so I'm not sure what your quibble with my "act of belief" is! The connotation of the word "belief" in many of our churches is one of mere mental assent; whereas "decision" implies action. Arminains of such belief obviously lack knowledge of the conceptive unity of genuine belief and works in the Semitic anthropological tradition. 9. On Calvin, if you're going to critique something with his name on it, you may want to read something of his (I would say the same to defenders of Calvinism, many whom do not in fact seem to ever have read him or anyone in the formative years of the tradition). I find it interesting that you want specific verification of his acquaintance with those ideas for two reasons: 1) you take skeptics to task for demanding specific verification of individual knowledge of general background conditions, but yet you demand exactly the same thing here (and I've already mentioned some background evidence)...2) are you demanding that terms like "Hebrew block logic" and "client-patron relationship" be found in Calvin? If so, that is a really atrocious piece of anachronism. What I was suggesting was that their social context shaped their thinking in channels much closer to those of the ancient world than the modern one, which means that their insights cannot be dismissed simply because they didn't know the modern terminology or were not acquainted with 20th century sociological methodology. So I was not saying that Calvin was an expert on the first century, but rather that his way of thinking may very well have been closer to that of the first century (given the influences on him) than you seem to think. A book like The Binding of God needs to be written, just like a social-science commentary on the gospels might need to be: to explain the background of the writer in a way that he did not think necessary, simply because it was the air he breathed (the 16th century was, in its own way, just as high-context as the first!). I'm sure there are differences between feudalism and patronage, but they were certainly much closer than the modern rootless self is to either--both were based fundamentally in a relationship of personal obligation which was recognized to be asymmetric and sanctioned in terms of honor and shame, as opposed to the modern paradigm of perfectly equal actors in an institutional setting sanctioned by laws and the government. My point about the Westminster Confession is similar: I was pointing out evidence of a way of thinking, not familiarity with anachronistic terminology. Perhaps just as the authors of the book you mention, they knew what it was and how to think that way without knowing our modern terminology for it. This may not be "accident," but may rather be the product of being shaped by the worldview of the Biblical writers (including the OT, which Malina has apparently not read) and by a social context more similar to the first century than we realize. All this is just to say that their insights are not to be dismissed, certainly not for some kind of chonological snobbery that suggest that just because they didn't have the 20th century's knowledge of sociology that therefore they didn't know what they were talking about. Actually, my point not so much to demand proof, but that as more that I was surprised to hear the suggestion that Calvin would know of such things, since indeed it seems so obviously lacking in the works of Calvinistic defenders -- for a reason that is astonishing (defenders of Calvinism do not read Calvin themselves?!). The restraints of communication compel me to nevertheless use the term "Calvinism" for convenience; at any rate, that indeed a "book like The Binding of God needs to be written" and that Calvinist defenders often do not read Calvin, suggests that the camp has a ways to go to get its house in order! (And perhaps the other side does as well!) 10. I'm not reading the "dead in sin" passage literalistically (that term is not in Rom. 3 and it is not taken from a Psalm), but rather arguing what I see the rhetorical point to be: that of inaction and of inability on both parts (i.e., I was unable to do what was good, and what was good could by itself not gain my loyalty--cf. the interesting claim that while we were slaves to sin, we were free from righteousness in Rom. 6:20) that required direct action on the part of God Himself to fix in the same way that He solved the problem of Jesus' physical death, i.e., direct resurrection (Eph. 2:5). I appealed to Rom. 3 to demonstrate the non-neutrality of the will with respect to righteousness, which is Paul's point (even though he is using poetic language, he is clearly making a didactic point, and in this case the negative "no one seeks after God" has to be considered exhaustive, given his reference in vv. 19-20 to "all the world" and "no flesh"; also where the context is framed by the Jew-Gentile distinction, which was entirely exhaustive). Your persiflage about disembodied souls doesn't answer the point: obviously, Paul is not using a metaphor for no reason, so why does he use the metaphor of death if not for the reason I'm arguing? Also, slaves certainly could long for freedom, etc., but they were not free and thus powerless with respect to freedom: they could do nothing freely, the rights of free men and the laws governing free men simply didn't apply to them. The use of exclusive language in the passages cited -- "no one" and "no" and "all" -- reminds us again of the cautions needed (as noted above, and despite the Jew-Gentile framing, which categorically, is not the same sort of thing) before taking them fully literally; on the other hand, since I accept a model of prevenient grace anyway, the point is perhaps moot. The obvious answer to why Paul uses the death metaphor is that it follows from the tradition of what happened in the Garden of Eden, when Adam and Eve "died" -- not literally. "Death" and "life" are referenced in terms of the relationship with God. Since again I accept prevenient grace as a factor it does not matter anyway; I am merely making the point that if indeed the Calvinist wishes to press this metaphor into service, it can be got around by the same means -- taking the metaphor any way that is needed. The point about slaves only magnifies my point. "[T]hey were not free and thus powerless with respect to freedom: they could do nothing freely, the rights of free men and the laws governing free men simply didn't apply to them"? Of course they "could do things freely" -- but there would be consequences if they did. The analogy only breaks down the closer one looks at it. 11. With regards to the passages in Proverbs I used, how then, if they are not at least general maxims, do we take them positively? I should note that proverbs in general cannot be useful or meaningful unless there is some wisdom in them: e.g., "he who hesitates is lost," has to have some kind of general applicability, or no one would ever have remembered it and made it into a proverb. Also, though, general statements about the way that God governs the world are on a different level than good advice about how to deal with fools. How do we qualify those passages in a non-absolute sense? "Sometimes the heart of the ruler is in the hand of the Lord, but sometimes it's not"? "Occasionally the Lord directs a man's steps, but not always"? Did Solomon really mean that adultery is destructive only some of the time, but not absolutely? "The Lord has made all things for Himself, even the wicked unto the day of evil, but actually only some of them"? "He who justifies the wicked and he who condemns the just are both an abomination to the Lord, some of the time"? Shall I multiply examples of proverbs that seem to be pretty much absolute? I think you need to work a little more on your explanation of wisdom literature. We take these positively with the caution that exceptions are possible and that they are therefore only used for doctrine (absolute rules by design) with the same caution. I see no reason to suppose that "general statements about the way that God governs the world are on a different level than good advice about how to deal with fools" in a genre sense, merely because they are on a different level on a subject sense. The qualifications for the examples stated would be: It is well to qualify by saying "pretty much absolute". The exceptions may be subtle and rare, but that is really all that I am saying as well. And if I need to "work a little more on [my] explanation of wisdom literature" then so do the OT scholars from whom I got it. We once again appareciate this discourse with Calvino and look forward to more. And now we have another installment. Does this mean that you would limit God's election to primary causality, so that he did not choose specific people to be saved (I take reprobation to be a passing over, a withholding of saving grace rather than an active choosing of damnation--I'm also an infralapsarian, so that works!)? I don't know that they do speak of primary causality as such, although Turretin's questions on God's government of the world include addressing the question of God's relationship to secondary causes, which implies primary causality. It might not be right to say that I think primary causality is a "limit" in this case -- I would say it accomplishes all that needs to be done for election; which means that to speak of a "limit" is like saying, grass is "limited" to being a plant. Primary causality is and would be inclusive of all other actions by God, for it assumes that any specific acts of God were "built in" to the original plan. In general, it seems the Reformed tradition assumes God's primary causality, which was fairly extensively discussed in the medieval period (cf. my reference in the last email to Aquinas' expression of the "dignity" of secondary causation bestowed on us by God). That might explain the lack of a direct reference, even in the more technical Reformed theologians I looked at (Berkhof, Hodge, Turretin, as opposed to the popular works you refer to). Obviously I cannot argue this point; it is gracious, albeit gratuitous in my opinion, to suppose that primary causality is assumed in these writings. Back on point: if God's activity is only primary causality, choosing the world in general, how then is there a personal involvement as you state? I think this is a point where we're not quite understanding each other, as opposed to some of the others where we really disagree! In my view, personal involvement is practically negligible; this in light of that "personal relationships" as we know it were practically unknowns in this society. Patrons were generally distant from their clients, and remote. One may fire back that God was intimately involved in the life of Israel and His people; yet as I have told some Skeptics, taken all together God's involvment amounts to interaction with .0001% of all people who have ever lived, and then actively in only .001% of their total lifetimes. Esau was not the child of effort outside the covenant: you're thinking of Ishmael as opposed to Isaac, the child of the promise (Rom. 9:7-9). Esau and Jacob were twins, born to Isaac; in fact, they were both children of promise, since they were Isaac's children (Rom. 9:7). Correct. I mixed up Isaac and Ishmael. Oops! However, my general point -- Furthermore, God gave them to Rebecca as a relief for her barrenness, which is a sign of the futility of effort outside of God's work (cf. Sara's and Rachel's barrenness--slightly differing circumstances, but the same point being made: it is of the Lord's giving, not of the procreative effort of man, cf. John 1:13); the removal of barrenness is explicitly related to the covenant promises in Ex. 23:26 and Deut. 7:14). Esau only gave up his part in the covenant later, whereas God's decree came before either of them was born. ...would remain the same. God owed mercy (covenant obligation) to the family of Abraham. One way or the other, someone in that family was "owed" it. But it is here where Calvino and I have a particular disagreement: I would also like to point out that God's self revelation (I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, etc.) is, in linguistic context, a question of his taking pity on man's helpless or lowly estate, rather than viewing his obligation: the second part of the declaration (I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion) is closely tied to the first (via standard parallelism), and the terms used refer to an emotion (the cognate noun of the verb for "have mercy"--eleao--is used with the term splanchna--bowels--as a very graphic and concrete idiom for pity: the KJV's "bowels of compassion", cf. 1 John 3:17, Luke 1:78) felt for someone in need or in trouble (oiktiro--see Kittel's Theological Dictionary of the New Testament, or the references in Liddell & Scott's lexicon of classical Greek). In Greek, then, the concept of mercy--eleos--is connected with feelings of pity for someone in need, not with any context of obligation. I consider the first argument fallacious: It tries to associate "mercy" with "compassion" merely by proximity. However, even so, Malina and Pilch note that "compassion" in the Biblical world was "a value rooted primarily in kinship obligations." [30] It relates to the value that family, as a bonded group, ought to have the greatest consideration for one another. Thus any association of pity or feelings is beside the point, and even an anachronism: The word still denotes obligation within a familial bond. (Of course, all who are God's creation are in some sense God's offspring (Acts 17); hence indeed, any person could be the object of God's familial compassion, but those with whom He has a covenant would qualify most closely.) Pilch and Malina note these very words (oiktiro and splanchna) and note that the latter is what describes Jesus' motivation to heal people, for example. There is no evidence that "pity" is a motivator -- this is read into the text as a modern value. 2/24/05: Perhaps due to my own error in writing, Calvino may have read more importance into my dismissal of feelings when it comes to pity than I intended. By no means do I deny that pity can be inspired by feelings. However, I also submit that pity is capable of being expressed objectively and without feeling. In this regard I asked what Calvino's view on the emotions of God would be. Some Calvinists I have encountered would regard God as so transcendant that He would not have human feelings. Calvino replied: Since I follow Aquinas in considering the usage to be analogical (as distinct from univocal or equivocal), I would say that God has an experience that is not entirely dissimilar to that felt by humans--i.e., it is similar enough that human terms for compassion do not fatally distort the reality of God's inner life (which is a hard thing to get at anyhow). As Louw & Nida point out (and as the biblical understanding of faith and works reflects), internal states are closely connected with external action, so the focus here is not on some internal emotion per se, but rather on the motivation and the actions issuing from it as almost one essential unit. To paraphrase James, compassion without an act of saving is dead, and since God is all life, His compassion necessarily issues in action. Of course, this is more of a philosophical issue on the relation of language to the essence of God. If we agree on the form of inerrant revelation (viz., God's use of historical linguistic and cultural human forms which shape the presentation of His truth, but do not impair communication), then the issue is not so much this philosophical one as the material one on what the ancient context actually indicates. What Calvino says of focus being on "motivation" seems more or less to cohere with what I was driving at. In light of this, some of the citations Calvino provides below tying pity to emotion I will not dispute but merely comment on. Now back to the primary discussion: If you could refer me to Casey's work, I'd appreciate it. I would point out, however, that as a native of a city outside of Palestine (Tarsus), Greek would have been Paul's native tongue for all contexts except the synagogue and thus his thought forms in Greek would reflect that language, particularly to a Greek audience that did not know Hebrew (see the following article on language modes in bilinguals: http://www.unine.ch/ltlp/pub/langmode.pdf ). So, I still don't think your point is made, given that Hebrew had only the one particle (lo) to indicate negation, while Greek had several. This means that the Hebrew negative had a much broader range of meaning than the Greek negatives. Besides, the negative can also be absolute, and its useage here must be determined contextually. The evidence you cite does not require the looser meaning of the negative, but only permits it, which cannot be decisive. Casey's work is Aramaic Sources of Mark's Gospel. I can not agree that Greek would be Paul's "native" tongue. Jews of the Diaspora were usually highly insulated from the surrounding pagan culture, and the disctinctive of a native language such as Aramaic is hardly one that would be abandoned, unless Paul became someone like Philo or Josephus, which I don't think anyone would argue. I do agree that the usage needs to be determined contextually -- however, neither side of this debate has much context to go on; what it ends up with is either side having to read the negation within their own paradigm. In that light. I would appeal to what I regard as Calvinism's unwieldy claims which require them to read the negation as absolute: Romans 9:16 is one the passages that leads inevitably to fatalism (hence Palmer's white flag). 2/24/05: Calvino in correspondence directed my attention again to the link. This item consists of 24 pages of closely-argued text which sums up as, yes, bilinguals talk differently to other bilinguals than they do to monolinguals. But even if this could be said to have a direct application to Paul, Romans was to a mixed audience of Gentile Christians and Jewish Christians (and maybe even Jews, if Nanos is correct). I would have to ask Calvino to explain what part of this article he thinks rebuts my point. One may point out that where exegesis is concerned, Paul would have been most likely to have been thinking in the language he learned it in, in Jerusalem -- Hebrew (or Aramaic, perhaps). I fail to see how the use of a perfectly normal term, mercy, can be construed as an example of extreme language. Furthermore,I think you've got this argument mixed up with the one on wisdom literature: I'm not making a claim about absolute meaning vs. relative or qualified meaning, but rather about the definition of the word (does "mercy" mean "obligation" or something else?). If anything, I'm arguing here for a meaning of the word qualified by context, while you are claiming an absolute meaning of "obligation" regardless of the context. I also have to amend my complaint: it's not really an example of illegitimate totality transfer, since that refers to the sense of a word. What is under discussion is the concept of mercy, or, better, of the concept referred to by eleos. I would place the burden of proof on those who want claim a meaning for this concept that appears nowhere in the linguistic authorities. What I've seen from the soc-sci folks never deals at all with linguistic data, but rather usually simply asserts the idea of obligation. I am afraid some miscommunication has occurred; my point about "extreme language" refers to the use of the word not, not to the use of the word mercy. But in terms of burden of proof, I feel the soc-sci folks have done their job -- reviewed the requisite background literature and cultural context -- and that it is the burden of the doubter to upend their findings. 2/24/05: I will add as well here that the linguistic authorities may be regarded either as in no position to disagree with what social scientists say; or, alternatively, if presented with the data, may not disagree with it. Malina et al. have an understanding that has to do more with how mercy and compassion are applied, not what it means. Let me exposit it this way, as I did to Calvino in email. The mindset of the persons of this day was collectivist. in this setting, mercy and compassion would first and primarily be directed towards those who were within one's ingroup, and less to those who were less "connected", on a sliding scale. "Outgroup" members would have no expectation for mercy or compassion from others outside their group. This does not mean it would NEVER be shown to an outgroup member; but in such cases, we would say that the outgroup member is pleading to be treated as an ingroup member. More on this later. 2 and 3 are both claims made by Malina in his article in the volume Authenticating the Words of Jesus, ed. by Evans and Chilton. In this article he also insists that Jesus expected a literal cosmic being known as the son of man to literally descend from the sky and implies that the kingdom of heaven should be read kingdom of the sky. This is a line he continues in his book on Revelation, on which see this review: http://www.bookreviews.org/pdf/2364_1579.pdf (see also some criticisms of the social science perspective in this review: http://www.bookreviews.org/pdf/2230_1370.pdf ; for your own work, see the favorable review here: http://www.carleton.ca/~zcrook/MalinaReview.htm ). I will not dispute this nor check back on it. I have found error in the work of Malina, et al. where issues outside social science are concerned (for example, they claim in a commentary that Mark 7:31 contains a geographic error) and that is where these sorts of claims fall. On the other hand: As for 1, perhaps we understand their point differently. As expressed in Malina and Neyrey's book on Luke-Acts, Malina's The New Testament World, and the soc-sci commentary on the synoptics, however, the point is absurd. There, they cite Matt. 16:13 as an example of the dyadic personality, who defines himself not by some inward, private criterion, but by a public one, i.e., he is dependent upon other for his own sense of self (see, e.g., the following definition: http://moses.creighton.edu/malina/ntstudy/person/slide2.html ); thus, Jesus' question is not a test of his disciples, but rather an honest question: "Would someone please tell me just who I'm supposed to be?" Even in the context, however, this is nonsense, since Jesus is given a variety of contradictory answers: clearly, he could not model himself on all of these. Now, I can just here the soc-sci response: "Yes, and that is why he turned the question to his fictive kinship group, the disciples, in order to seek his self-definition and his honor." This has a first name, and it's O-S-C-A-R. Clearly, Jesus had a sense of his own identity long before, and it was an identity contrary to what everyone else expected of him (cf. Luke 2:49-50). In fact, this identity had to be prior to his calling of the disciples in order to create a new "fictive kinship group" (which is not what he was doing: another example of the abstract system getting in the way of the biblical data and background, as noted in the two reviews above), even if one doesn't think he was the Messiah and was thus re-constituting Israel by choosing 12 disciples (as Wright concludes). Furthermore, if he was turning to this f.k.g. for his identity, how come they didn't understand him? They said he was the Christ, but as a whole range of later interactions demonstrates, they meant a geo-political leader who would throw off the burden of the Romans and the Herodian usurpers and restore a pure, earthly Davidic kingdom based in the earthly Jerusalem (and would destroy the Samaritans with fire from heaven along the way). But, this is not what he did! Unless he didn't really teach what the Gospels claim he did (which Malina would seem to think), and then we're right back to the flatulence of higher criticism. I'm curious to know how you see this perspective on Matt. 16:13 agreeing with your other claims about the reliability of the Gospels... Unfortunately, I have to say that this criticism is one that is typical, and it involves a rather significant misunderstanding of what Malina, et al. are saying. Whne it is said that one is "dependent upon other for his own sense of self" this does not mean that Jesus does not know who he is and needs to ask; rather, the individual certainly has ideas about themselves, but socially is limited in expression to the self that others recognize. The slide says the personality "needs another" -- but this is not to know, but to enact. Thus Jesus' question is not, "Would someone please tell me just who I'm supposed to be?" but, "Would someone please recognize what I am so that I can enact my role?" In context, a slave might want to be a rock star, but unless others acknowledged him as one, his "rock star" self would be suppressed at the behest of others who regarded him as just a slave. Therefore, this does not claim that Jesus did not have "a sense of his own identity". Actually, adoption involves sonship and inheritance (cf. Rom. 8:15-17), which brings the references to around 30 verses just in Paul, not to mention Hebrews. In addition, I don't think that Galatians 3-4 is a "sidelight" passage, or that adoption and inheritance is a "sidelight" issue there, whichever you meant (nor, for than matter, in Ephesians). Inheritance also, of course, has a long background in the Old Testament, so it is pretty darned important. Of course if we bring other words into the picture, the count does go higher. However, I would suggest that one need not be "adopted" to inherit. But: Note that the role of the paterfamilias, though, was particularly to those in his household, so far as I know (I would have to check with Steve Baugh of Westminster: his knowledge of the 3,000+ inscriptions from 1st cent. Ephesus would help). Also, the question of inheritance, which is closely connected to adoption in Pauline thought, is not by any means a subset of the client-patron relationship (the well-known example of Julius Caesar's adoption of Ocatvius as his heir is a good example of the special significance of this): inheritance gave a claim to position and an identity with the interest of the grantor of the inheritance that a client could never have had. The limit to household is simply not sufficient. Patronage was the relational model that governed the overwhelming majority of ancient human relationships. It would stretch credulity to suggest that Paul and the NT used the language and the structure of patronage, the most prominent form of social relationship (especially among social unequals), but was not actually reporting a patronal relationship. (***See more below.) The preconceptions, as you put them, are grounded biblically, as God is portrayed as free to do what he pleases (Psa. 115:3; Psa. 135:6; Job 41:11--but wait, let me guess: those are from poetry and thus don't really mean that God whatever he pleases, but that sometimes he does what he pleases and sometimes he doesn't? That is one point, but another is that God is NOT free to "do as He pleases". He cannot lie, as Hebrews says. He cannot not be God. He cannot make 2 and 2 equal 5. Thus: God's self-revelation to Job is about the utterly absolute transcendence of God; if he withholds his hand, it is still because he pleases). An act of love, however, toward a rebellious creature was not compulsory, even by his own nature, since God's nature as love is fulfilled by the eternal love and perichoresis of the Trinity. This may be semantics, though, since it is the idea of "compulsion" that doesn't seem quite apt, implying as it does some kind of movement contrary to God's will (e.g., "Obligatory, enjoined by authority"--Merriam-Webster's Unabridged Dictionary; "An irresistible impulse to act, regardless of the rationality of the motivation"--American Heritage Dictionary). I would perhaps employ the more elegant language of St. Anselm, who says that it would not be fitting or beautiful for God to leave the world in sin. That is a good point that you make about the particular act of love being chosen sovereignly: whatever God does is loving, because that is who he is, but he could have chosen to show his love some other way, e.g., the Father could have judged the entire world out of love for his Son...I think, that, semantics aside, we are pretty close to agreement here... My proposition, however, is that God's expression of love is, bound within His nature, as His inability to lie. That love is fulfilled in the Trinity is beside the point: It fulfills the object of love within that relationship, but once other actors are created whom God loves, the same obligation within His own nature comes to the fore. Perhaps "compulsion" does have poor connotations in English for this purpose. But at a point prior to the patron being a patron to a particular client, there is no patron-client relationship, so that is not a point in the relationship! I'm not sure why this argument from Ephesians is moot: my point is that there election cannot be in terms of a client-patron relationship, since there was no relationship, and therefore the concept of mercy as expounded in Ephesians (while it is not mentioned much, it is in the background, cf. 2:4; in fact, all of chapter 2 is an explanation of this characteristic of God named in 2:4) cannot be the obligation of a patron to his client, which means that mercy cannot always mean obligation. It doesn't seem moot at all...Note that neither the covenant with Adam nor with Noah were salvific, however, neither in their original contexts nor in Paul's inspired interpretation, so they are more moot than the Ephesians argument (unless we want to get into the law/gospel distinction, but that's more of an internecine Reformed debate of the moment). Again, I don't like the term compelled (for the reasons given above), and I know that a covenant is a type of patronage, or more aptly a suzerain-vassal treaty in the ANE context: a fair amount of the work in that, particularly on Deuteronomy, was actually done by a Reformed professor at the seminary I attended (M.G. Kline)! Nevertheless, the obligation to patronize those in need of patronage existed before this. Thus that there was "no relationship" is beside the point. Mercy as obligation did not require a specific object (though if we follow Paul in Galatians, it did exist towards whoever would be the Israel of God); though it may be added that for the omniscient God, there certainly would be no barrier to knowing who the objects of His mercy would be! Either way, "there was no relationship" is not a barrier to understanding a patronage paradigm here. You actually mean "conceptual," and it's not just in the anthropological tradition (which is a modern social science), but in the NT documents and in the theology of the Reformed tradition. I have not yet seen it reported by any Reformed commentator, but that could be a limit of my reading (as much as I have done, there's always a lot more to do!). Note: I wasn't saying that he "knew of such things," but that his own cultural milieu was such that his background concepts were functionally closer to those of the ancient world than modern concepts. I guess you could say that he "knew of" such things, but only in a very Michael Polanyi-esque personal, or Dooyewerdian pre-theoretical way. I should point out that Paul didn't "know of" things like "dyadic personality" or "Semitic totality concept" either! Agreed; Paul would take them for granted. I'm afraid the Polanyi, etc references escape me. You need to clarify your linguistic terms: the issue is not whether words like "no," "none," or "all" are being used literally or not (since the opposite of literal is metaphorical or figurative, but a negation is neither of those), but how far they extend. As far as I can see, two options present themselves that are of relevance: 1) they are exclusive and total; 2) to some degree, they are not. I do regard a negation as a figure of speech. My point here is the same one above: even if I grant the non-exhaustive use of "not" in general, that does not mean it is required here, and so the context must determine whether it is exhaustive or not. If it's not exhaustive, then some do, in fact, seek after righteousness, some, in fact, are justified by the law, and some are not, in fact, guilty before God (all considered apart from the gospel, which is mentioned as a new thing in Rom. 3:21). Please explain to me why the Jew-Gentile distinction isn't a factor, since that is the division that Paul has made in Rom. 1 and 2 and was central to the Jewish understanding of the world, which was made up of Jews and everyone else, thus being universally exhaustive (speaking of social contexts). Why does prevenient grace make these things moot? Here is an operative question: When Paul says, "none are justified by the law," does he mean, "none ever perform ANY act of the law which provides justification" or, "none, in the long span of their lives, end up in a position in which the law does enough for them, because whatever justification may be achieved is negated by sin"? The latter seems more likely; the former would be an absurdity (and would contradict James). It is for this reason that I must regard the "not" as non-exclusive -- or else, say that it must be modified by the context of the whole life, in which case it is also non-exclusive, but in another way. My point about Jew and Gentile is only that this framing ultimately makes no difference in terms of whether one indeed can in any sense receive any sort of justification from deeds. The Jew had a more clear road, but it was no less theoretically possible for the Gentile. Prevenient grace moots the issue for me because the "dead" person by this model gets a shot of "life" that enables them to see past their own deadness. And we agree that life and death have to do with a relationship with God--I simply explained what that means: to have no relationship with God and no ability to have a relationship with God or even to understand what he is saying (cf. 1 Cor. 2:14). In the legal metaphor that Paul uses, righteousness does not even apply, just as the marriage law does not apply to one who is dead (cf. Rom. 7). I'm not taking the metaphor any way that is needed: I presented an argument in the context of Paul in order to explain what he meant by the metaphor, and you haven't replied to this, just said that the analogy breaks down, that I'm using the metaphor any way necessary, and that life and death mean a relationship with God. Of course Paul uses the idea death to refer to what happened in the garden (see Rom. 5, which we could have another argument about, I'm sure!), but my point is that, since it is metaphorical, what does it mean? What does spiritual death mean, or death with respect to God? I think we agree on what "death" means here; but prevenient grace would again moot this point for me anyway, so I will not engage it further. No, they could not do things freely, not in a legal sense (which is what I meant, not a moral sense). From the perspective of Roman law, slaves had none of the prerogatives of the free man and thus could not act freely--this was even taken to a moral level in some philosophers who considered slaves to be naturally incapable of free action (in a moral sense, not simply a legal sense). For example, a slave couldn't vote legally: he might be able to put a stone in the ballot box, but it could legally have no bearing on the verdict--the action has no effect. In the same way, those who are slaves to sin can do all they want, but because they are disconnected from righteousness, it has no effect. It would be like me trying to get the Canadian national healthcare system to pay for my surgery: I could try all I want, but it would have no effect, since I am not a citizen (another analogy used in the NT, e.g., Eph. 2:19; Phil. 3:20--although connected to the legal/slavery question, because the application of the laws had to do with citizens, not slaves). Here again, this does not state that they could not do things freely; it merely indicates that if they took the liberty to do them, they'd be punished! The voting example merely shows an example of the consequences -- the slave can still commit the act of voting. The melding of freedom to act, and the effects of the act, are being incorrectly combined here. Clearly, the qualification here would actually be that of John 1: all things that have been made. You're reasoning like Dan Barker here. Barker, actually, would insist on the absolute sense and complain that indeed the Spirit was not made... On the rest of the question, though, I'll swing some more your way: "The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge...most of the time..."; That's correct. Knowledge never actually literally starts with the fear of the Lord; babies do not learn that first thing in their knowledge base. This proverb expresses the importance of fear of the Lord but is not an accurate delineation of a chronology. My son, if sinners entice you [to sin--not to go to the grocery store], do not consent...but sometimes you can consent..."; The qualification makes exactly my point. It is not ALL enticement. "For the Lord gives wisdom, from his mouth come knowledge and understanding...but sometimes he says stupid things..."; No; sometimes the Lord says things that are topically other than "knowledge" and "wisdom". But not stupid things; just things that are of a different category. "Do not let kindness and truth leave you...except for when they go on vacation..."; Rather, when you go to war and work in espionage. "Trust in the Lord with all your heart...but sometimes don't trust him..."; It needs to be finished: "And lean not unto thy own understanding." Did Solomon consult the Lord for his math quizzes? Or use his own understanding? "My son, do not reject the discipline of the Lord...okay, sometimes you can reject it..."; Needs to be finished: For whom the LORD loveth he correcteth; even as a father the son in whom he delighteth. Yet does God correct every error every person makes? "Get wisdom! Get understanding...okay, you don't really have to get them..." and I'm only into chapter 4. The nature of the advice is not absolute, as though wisdom and understanding were ALL we were to get. My point is that you dismissed my appeals to the verses in Proverbs by saying: oh, those verses are in wisdom literature and therefore not absolute. My point is that that does not follow: there are verses in wisdom literature that are absolute, understood correctly. I have to disagree. In full contexts, every proverbial statement allows for exceptions. But even if we find a small number, the nature of proverbial literature as a whole places the burden upon those who demand an absolute. We agree that: So, it comes down to the individual verses and their interpretation, not simply a whole genre, which means that there can be variation due to the subject matter, and, since God is sui generis, his actions would seem to necessarily be likely to be on a different plane than human actions (they are also grammatically different: statements about what is rather than what one ought to do, and these must be interpreted differently). ...and in that respect, the contradictions involved in certain degrees of Calvinist thought, along with the relevant social data, are what, as I see it, supply the context which require a proverbial, non-absolute edge. The point about God being sui generis is not a logical one; it is something of an emotional, "glory to God!" appeal that arbitrarily changes the rules. I've got more to say, I suppose (mostly on the problems with the soc-sci perspective, which seem to mount every time I look at their works), but I should leave it here for now. Let me summarize my main arguments on our central disagreement (the meaning of mercy): 1) the linguistic useage shows that eleos is associated with a feeling of pity for those in need (occurring with oiktiro in Rom. 9:15 and with splanchnon in 1 John 3:17 and Luke 1:78), not with a particular relationship of obligation. 2) God's expression of his nature as merciful (Eph. 2:4) is precisely that he brings the Gentiles into covenant relationship with him; mercy, therefore, creates a relationship where none existed previously and thus cannot be the obligation created by that relationship. I have addressed these points above and have nothing new to add. 3) As Al Plantinga might put it, I'm proposing a defeater for your argument from the authority of the soc-sci crowd by identifying some major flaws in their work: their claims about the meanings of certain terms cannot outweigh the linguistic data in the absence of particular, cogent arguments which address that data, and they make absurdly elementary errors in other areas. Note that they may still be correct (error in one point does not entail error in another or in all), but these errors undermine their position in your argument as a definitive authority (which so far is what they have been: you haven't presented particular arguments from them on the idea of mercy, but simply said that they say so and their work is well-documented--which, by the way, is not a legitimate response even if there weren't severe errors that call their accuracy into question, since broad reliability does not entail inerrancy in every argument). This is mostly too general for comment, but in research circles, good documentation is a good response that requires an equitable one. Calvino proposes the following, which is general, but not equitable in terms of documentation: As a final note on their work, I should point out their perspective on the dyadic personality (which doesn't enter directly into our discussion, but does apply to the general reliability question) is quite flawed, possibly because they rely more heavily on modern anthropological constructs than on actual evidence. That is to say, there is a substantial tradition of introspective, psychologically-oriented philosophy, often in explicit opposition to popular values of honor, that can be traced from Socrates onward, with representatives from a variety of backgrounds (including the first century slave Epictetus and the Jew Philo of Alexandria). Paul was undoubtedly familiar with these traditions (cf. his Athens apologetic discourse), Apollos was from Alexandria (and thus may have been aware of Philo's work), and many of the early Christians were from the upper class, who would have had the leisure to pursue philosophy. Thus, even if this view was not in the majority, it would have been present in the cultural milieu, while the soc-sci perspective claims that it is completely absent. Without specific arguments, I can't really comment; however, the one critical view I have seen, in a book titled Paul and the Salvation of the Individual, showed a serious misunderstanding of the social science data. None of this proposes that introspection was impossible; this is a great misunderstanding of the point. But this would still not be the leading method of thought; it would still not be the sort of people Paul and the early Christians preached to; and it would require a significant shouldering of burden to prove that these tentative steps are amenable to the full-blown perception present in modern thought. Furthermore, you can also find aspects of an introspection in the Old Testament: 1 Sam. 1:13; Psalms 4:4; 10:6, 11, 13; 14:1 mention "speaking with/in the heart"; in Psalm 13:2, the psalmist reflects on the sorrow in his heart and in his soul; in Psalm 42:5, the psalmist addresses his soul; there is an awareness of internal motivation in the "kidneys" (translated by the KJV as "reins," by others as "mind") and the "inward parts," (sometimes "innermost being") which are where God desires truth (Psa. 7:9; 51:6; Jer. 11: 20, 17:10, 20:12; Wis. 1:6), or are the source of learning (Psa. 15:7); the "heart" is famously distinguished from the outward apprearance in 1 Sam. 16:7 and from words in Isa. 29:13...My point with all of these is simply that there is some kind of recognition of an inward, private self that may be very different from appearances and words, is where truth should be truly found, and can even be communicated with in poetic dialogue (the earliest example of this I've found is in Egyptian literature, in fact--"A Dispute Between a Man and his Ba," from the 12th dynasty). This is also the case in the New Testament: Isa. 29:13 is quoted by Jesus; the famous sermon on the mount makes a clear distinction between outward actions and inward attitudes in the discussions of adultery and murder; it is the heart that is the source of all sin, Mk. 7:21; Peter, through the Spirit, discerns that Ananias has lied in his heart in Acts 5:4...Anyhow, while the ancient world was certainly much more concerned with outward norms, the kind of absolute exclusions of introspection and psychological reflection made by the soc-sci folks seem to be overstated. I would only need to state again that it is not held here that introspection of some sort was impossible or did not exist. Rather, it would be held that it was significantly subservient to external factors, which is indeed what Calvino acknowledges. The soc-sci folks do not make any "absolute exclusions" -- this is an overstatement of their work. Calvino has noted that he may not respond for a while due to obligations. We apprreciate the continuing dialogue! Update 11/12/04: I have recently got hold of Allen Mawhinney's Yiothesia (Adoption) in the Pauline Epistles which has clarified greatly the nature of adoption in the ancient world. Mawhinney's descriptions of the adoption process in the ancient world - whether by Hebrews, Greeks, or Romans -- clearly indicates, as I supposed, that adoption was indeed a form of patronage. Mawhinney notes the dearth of literature on adoption [3 -- explaining perhaps why Calvino and I have seen so little on it!] and then explains the background data. In Greek culture, adoption served as a way to perpetuate familial obligations and rites [15ff]; for example, a son might be adopted in order to ensure that the adopter had someone to perform his funerary rites and bury him. In other cases adoption was performed to ensure a succession, or pass on a trade. (Indeed, there were also cases of posthumous adoption, in which the family of a man who died without an heir selected one from among them to designate as his heir.) Adoper and adoptee alike had legal responsibilities and privileges [23 -- i.e., the adopter would provide the adoptee with a home and sustencance, and in turn the adoptee was responsible for providing for the parents in their old age, and burying them when they died], which make it clear that this was a relationship within which there was an interaction of obligation -- in other words, patronage. One question Mawhinney does not address is whether one could be "unadopted", which would have ramifications for the doctrine of perseverance. However, given the contractual/obligational nature of the relationship, the P petal of TULIP would be hard to maintain; and Mawhinney does note a case in which an adoption could be annuled [23] by the adoptee, if he had a son of his own, in which case he could "return to his own family and resume his position" while leaving his newly born son in his place. Roman adoption had some differing processes, but the ultimate purpose [28] of it was the same. In the ANE, adoption is established by means of contracts [33] which clearly show that it is a relationship of mutual obligation -- again, patronage. The purposes were much the same (provide for parents in old age; have someone to perform a burial). Indeed Mawhinney says of one such adoption contract, "Contracts such as this almost seem to make an adoption a bargained arrangement. The son agrees to care for the parent in old age and in return receives the inheritance." [35-6] This is clearly a form of patronage -- a binding set of duties and rights between two parties. With all of the hubbub with White and Hays, we have not had time of late to return to what has been a more qualified opponent in this realm, he who we have called "Calvino". We now return to his comments; mine original in bold, his in italics. Here is something that seems odd to me: you have read pretty much only the popularizers of the Reformed tradition and none, as far as I know, of the technical exegetical or systematic works, yet you decide to post your definitive criticisms of the system on your website. If I were to come to you have read Josh McDowell's work and the Authorized Version and claim to overthrow Christianity, you would simply laugh. I find this to be a parallel situation (although, obviously, of less dramatic import, since I don't confuse the Reformed tradition with the faith per se). Primary causality, as I have pointed out at least twice, was well-discussed throughout the middle ages as a standard point of theology, and this was well-known to the Reformed systematicians as well as the magisterial Reformers. Thus, the assumption is not at all gratuitous, but rather reasonable based upon a knowledge of the intellectual background (and the implications of "secondary causes" as used by Turretin). Since you want it, though, Turretin refers to God as the first cause in Topic Six, Question Four, Part Six of his Institutes of Elencitc Theology; Charles Hodge and Louis Berkhof also explicitly refer to God as first cause in their works. This is all fine and dandy. Yet it is clear that none of these used primary causality as I have, for if they had, it would have come out in the wash, and White for example would not be bellowing so loudly about how I inserted it into the text. Unless White is indeed someone who has not read the texts referred to himself! Is he indeed comparable to Josh McDowell, I wonder? Is that a suitable compliment; would White accept it? Would Palmer? All of this is really a distraction from the main issue, not the issue itself: Whether my use of the concept is appropriate or not. In my view, personal involvement is practically negligible; this in light of that "personal relationships" as we know it were practically unknowns in this society. Patrons were generally distant from their clients, and remote. By personal involvement, I don't mean the modern, touchy-feely, "personal-as-opposed-to-legal," "Christianity-is-a-relationship-not-a-religion" perspective that drove me out of mainstream pop Evangelicalism. I mean involvement by a personal God, as opposed to an impersonal fate or even the barely personal Allah; this means a God with a knowable character which includes love, knowledge (e.g., speaking to Moses "as with a friend"), concern, etc. Even if patrons were remote, they still had some personal relation, i.e., the relation of persons (not of a person to his house or his slave). If they were distant, however, then we may need to reconsider the application of client-patron relation to the relation between God and His people in the NT, since a major point is that God is no longer distant (e.g., John 1, Eph. 2:14, the name of Immanuel being fulfilled, the image of priesthood and entrance into the Holy Place in Hebrews 10 and the tearing of the veil). "Distance" of course is a relative concept. Yet "knowable character" also applied to patrons. What is described here is not beyond what I hold of the patronage relationship described in the NT. But the appeals are also misplaced. John 1 is about the Logos, Jesus, the hypostatic incarnation in the role of broker -- not about the Father, the patron. So likewise the other passages. (Moses, as well, acted as a broker; not merely a client.) Then there is John's relation to Jesus, as the beloved disciple, who has the privilege of close personal proximity to Jesus, which would certainly not have been granted to a client, or perhaps Peter's very bitter sorrow, carried out in private with no witnesses to establish any kind of social role for his mourning. And once again: Jesus is the broker, not the patron. Close relations certainly were not beyond a client; and at best, this only establishes the matter for a select inner circle in a teaching ingroup -- not for everyone universally. If not, then we run the danger of becoming what John MacArthur once condemned: The man who talks to Jesus in the bathroom while shaving. There is also the classical idea of close friendship (see Plato's Symposium for an extreme example of this, or consider Augustine--still in the patronage world of antiquity--mourning for his friend's death in the Confessions). Yes, Peter, John et al would suit this; however, what is there to say how "close" (a relative term!) the average believer is to be? We are not all apostles. Furthermore, the sonship of Christians is modeled on the sonship of Christ, through His Spirit (Rom. 8:15), and is thus in some way relation to the very perichoresis of the members of the Trinity (John 17:21)--hardly an image of distance! Frankly, the more you flesh out your view of the patron-client relation, the less it seems to fit the NT. I submit that Calvino's examples have not borne out his argument, mostly being misdirected (applying to the broker, not the patron). These last two examples come closest to affecting my point. However, Rom. 8:15 says nothing more than describing our mode of approach -- allowed because of the broker, Christ -- and does not in any sense reflect that the Father's responses will be just as intimate. Furthermore, it remains the same that even within families, there were not personal relationships as we know them today. By today's standard even "Abba" would be relatively distant, mostly an honorific compliment. As for John 17:21, I see nothing that suggests anything more than unity of purpose -- certainly nothing suggesting intimacy of relationship any more than what would be typical of clients, patrons and brokers. I mixed up Isaac and Ishmael. Oops! However, my general point...would remain the same. God owed mercy (covenant obligation) to the family of Abraham. One way or the other, someone in that family was "owed" it. And your general point is still wrong, or at least not fully dealing with the text. The "obligation" devolved on Esau by birthright, not just on any old member of the family. Esau, however, sold that right, and Jacob gained it from Issac by a trick, all of it after God had chosen Jacob before birth. I have now dealt with this issue more fully in my expansion of Romans 9. But continuing: In social terms, the "obligation" would have been to the firstborn (as the behavior of the patriarchal families clearly indicates), but Paul's point is that God surprisingly picked | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||