On the question of Christ, culture, "Two Kingdoms" . . .
Here is a interview with David VanDrunen concerning "Two Kingdoms".
Here is a critique of VanDrunen by Steven Wedgeworth.
I am currently reading On the Spirit and the Letter with students. He says much about the Law in various places in his writings. But here (chapter 23) he says:
"The apostle seems to rebuke and correct those who were persuaded to receive circumcision in that by the term “law” he refers to circumcision and other such observances of the law. Christians do not now observe them, since they were foreshadowings of what was to come. And they now actually possess what was promised symbolically through those foreshadowings."
He then goes on to say:
"The apostle, nonetheless, wanted us to understand that the law, by which he says that no one is justified, is found not only in those sacraments which they had as symbols of what was promised, but also in those works which amount to a righteous life for whoever does them."
I am enjoying taking a Latin class with the Davenant Institute. It is a very good class. I recommend these folks if you are wanting to work on your Latin. This week's translation exercise is a selection from Bonaventure's De reductione artium ad theologiam (On the Reduction of the Arts to Theology).
In this selection Bonaventure (1221-1274) is making some reading and study recommendations. He writes:
"Circa primum insudare debet studium doctorum".
I learned that "circa" means "around". But it can also mean "concerning", which makes more sense here. "Primus, Prima, Primum" is an adjective, in particular here an ordinal number: "first". So we start with something like "concerning first", or "concerning the first". [NOTE: In my original post I then said: 'We might smooth this out and bring into our own idiom with something like "first of all" (although I like starting with a more "wooden" translation first to make sure I am grasping the grammar)'. Now that I have worked through the passage a second time, it seems like something like "concerning the first" is better. This is because Bonaventure is referring to the "first" of several things he has just listed-]. "Debet" is the main verb: "he/she/it ought"--here probably "one ought". This is followed by "insudare", which is an infinitive: "to . . . ." When I looked up the verb I chuckled, the verb "insudare" means "to sweat". Then "studium doctorum" is straightforward: "the study of the doctors". The preeminent "doctor", as Bonaventure sees it, is Augustine. So we end up with something like:
"Concerning the first, one ought to sweat the study of the doctors".
One might be tempted to sanitize "sweat" a bit (pun intended). But the basic imagery of "sweat" is probably a good one. If one wants to understand the great church fathers (=the "doctors") it takes some sweat. It takes work. We indeed ought to sweat it out in trying to understand the great doctors of the church. Theological study is a work out. Put on your sweats, get hydrated, and get to work.
I am enjoying reading Albert Camus. Over a year and a half ago I decided to engage Edmund Husserl. I read Crisis of the European Sciences. I took my time, and read it slowly and carefully. In trying to understand Husserl, this has lead to try and understand the existentialists who flow from (Husserl's) phenomenological tradition—largely for my purposes Jean Paul Sartre and Albert Camus. I have enjoyed Camus immensely.
Currently I am reading The Myth of Sisyphus and Other Essays. For Camus life is fundamentally absurd. The absurd is essentially what we find when two things meet: (1) The mind that desires unity/coherence/meaning meets (2) the world that disappoints; or (1) one’s nostalgia for unity meets (2) the fragmented universe. In short, we are faced with absurdity when man and his desire for truth, unity, etc., encounters a universe which in no way gives evidence of truth, beauty, ultimate meaning, coherence, etc.
Camus sets up his option against two others. Thus, when faced with the absurd one should not (1) with Kierkegaard, take a “leap” against reason, or in spite of reason into the Christian faith; nor should one (2) with Edmund Husserl embrace a form of reason/knowledge which claims too much—i.e., where reason/knowledge is able to achieve almost absolute and divine-like success [these are Camus’ summary of Kierkegaard and Husserl]. In contradistinction to these two options, the truly courageous must simply face the absurdity of life.
The answer for Camus is to face the absurdity of life. We are to engage in “permanent revolution,” “revolt,” “defiance” (pp. 54-55). We engage in “revolution,” “revolt,” and “defiance” by refusing the Kierkegaardian or Husserlian options (again, as Camus understands them), and by persisting in living our lives knowing full well that all is absurd.
Having read all of this, it was then fascinating to see him say of such “revolt”: “That revolt gives life its value. Spread out over the whole length of life, it restores its majesty to that life” (p. 55).
A basic thought: Even though Camus is self-consciously rejecting a Christian understanding of man, he nonetheless (unknowingly, I presume) slips into a type of Christian language about man. Adam in the garden was given a command to rule, subdue, and exercise dominion over the garden (and by extension, the world) (Genesis 1:26ff.). He was also placed in the garden and told “to work” and “to keep” the garden (Gen. 2:15). In short, as God’s representative man was to function as kingly figure. For Camus, man is a “kingly” (his majesty is restored) when he engages in revolt. For historic Christianity, man is “kingly” when he engages in faith-filled obedience, as fleshed out in exercising dominion. It is good to see Camus (even if unknowingly) stumble upon Christian categories in speaking about man. I suspect such categories are hard to avoid.
Note: I am working from The 1983 Vintage International version of The Myth of Sisyphus.