Continuing our yarn from last time, imagine that our guru Opi changes his strategy. Now he instead tells his disciples that “Opi is the dopi” means that Opi is eternally the uniquely smartest teacher, and also that eternally, there is a teacher smarter than Opi. Here, he teaches them to believe an apparent contradiction, that eternally, Opi is and is not the smartest teacher.
But is it a real contradiction, and so false? After all, sometimes an apparent contradiction turns out to be only apparent. If Sally says “I’m tall and I’m not,” what she says may be true after all, if what she means is that she’s somewhat tall but not very tall. Or perhaps she means that she’s tall relative to some people, but not tall relative to others.
So the sentence “Opi is eternally the uniquely smartest teacher, and also eternally, there is a teacher smarter than Opi” may actually be coherent and true, if there is at least one equivocal term in it, a term with more than one meaning. For instance, perhaps “Opi” refers to one man in the first clause, and to a different man in the second clause. Or maybe “smartest” has to do with one sort of intelligence, and “smarter” has to do with another sort. But let’s suppose that our guru refuses to clarify, refuses to show his disciples that at least one term is equivocal.
It seems they ought to conclude that what he says is incoherent, and so false. They’re pretty sure that the two parts can’t both be true. Are they more sure than this, that each one is true? It would seem not!
This scenario illustrates the sixth meaning of “the Trinity is a mystery.” One may mean that the Trinity doctrine is apparently self-contradictory, and not just at first glance, but whenever one thinks long and hard about it. Like our imagined guru Opi, they won’t and can’t tell us where there is any equivocation in trinitarian sentences, so that they may turn out to be coherent after all. At least in modern times, in part due to the profundities and perplexities of modern physics, this way of defending trinitarian belief has struck some intelligent Christians as a reasonable procedure. But it seems more reasonable in the abstract, where one doesn’t actually say what apparent contradiction one has in mind. For instance, these three claims appear, about as clearly any three do, to be an inconsistent triad – a set such that if any two of them are true, the remaining one must be false.
- Jesus just is God.
- The Father just is God.
- It is not the case that Jesus just is the Father.
“Just is” means “is numerically the same as” in all three claims. If you must believe all three, then you must knowingly believe at least one false claim, even if you’re not sure which it is. Still, this may strike some as an exercise of epistemic humility. However, 1 and 2 clearly imply this:
4. Jesus just is the Father.
How? Things numerically identical to the same thing (here, God) must also be numerically identical to one another. This is self-evident. Now pair 4 with 3:
3. It is not the case that Jesus just is the Father.
4. Jesus just is the Father.
Agreeing to both 3 and 4 doesn’t seem at all clever, humble, or sophisticated, does it? Their logical form is, respectively, not-P and P. You would be simultaneously affirming and denying the same claim. Someone that asks you to affirm 1-3 is, because both you and he know that things identical to the same thing are identical to each other, is in effect asking you to affirm both 3 and 4. The thing seemed reasonable so long as you overlooked 4. But now, you can’t unsee it.
“But it could be a merely apparent contradiction.” In some sense of “could,” yes. But no matter how many times you re-examine 3 and 4, they seem to be contradictories. If the contradiction were merely apparent, there would have to be an equivocation somewhere in their terms, but
one simply can’t see any such. One is stuck with thinking that this contradiction is real.
That’s how it goes generally with these matters. When a contradiction is gestured at from afar or obliquely, one thinks, “I can learn to live with that.” But when it’s dragged into the cold, harsh light of day, it’s just a bad old contradiction, a sure sign that your theorizing has gone astray somewhere. The humble thing is to admit that one must have made a mistake somewhere in one’s reasoning, and then to diligently try to find and correct that mistake.
The humble thing is to admit that one must have made a mistake somewhere in one’s reasoning, and then to diligently try to find and correct that mistake. When you come to a dead end in your journey, you put the car in reverse and find another way. You don’t get out of the car and celebrate, pretending that this was your destination all along.
Hi Dale, I’ve been thinking about contradictory language and paradox in theology lately. I had some new thoughts and wrote a post recently – https://medium.com/meta-theology/s%C3%B8ren-kierkegaard-man-of-mystery-d25710d61630#.6dj9ceker
In a nutshell, our purposes as language users may involve using paradox or contradictory sentences, similar, perhaps, to how we often use hyperbole as language users. In an analytic discussion, where the agreed upon purpose is accurate description then contradictory sentences are paradox are not helpful. Other times language users are well within their purposes to speak using paradox, particularly when it is clear to them that the descriptive project is not going to succeed.
Dale,
Great post. It seems to me that irrationality can explain anything and everything, irrationally. That’s its problem is that genuine communication breaks down once it’s allowed in the room. It bullies all meaning out the window in favor or word formulas and triumphal statements of nonsense. Anyone, including my 6 year old, can claim that jibberish mysteriously trumps logic because “I say so.” I’m not sure that many trinitarians are even communicating anything at all with which to dialog. Dialog isn’t seemingly possible and that’s the real problem here. The trinity is unquestionable because it is “essential.” The motives for belief in the trinity run really deep and wide for many people. So helping people out of sacred irrationality is really tuff stuff to do.
I think a lot of it is found in our own self identity. “Evangelical?” “Catholic?” What is religious truth for most people? Is it just a mass culture of people all affirming each others semi-irrational beliefs by clever rhetoric and crowd participation? Maybe I’m cynical but it’s looked more and more this way to me over the years. It seems to me that sometimes many trinitarians express so much taboo towards anyone that denies the trinity that this behavior is far more “cult like”, from a sociological perspective, than the average questioner of the status quo could ever dream of being. I’m not trying to attack trinitarians in saying this, just turn the table back.
Or else obviously I must not be born again since I don’t believe in the trinity. Perhaps I’ll start my own cult now that I’m qualified. The thing is, this trinity doctrine is too central to the self identity of all the major Christian movements, that to question it is to question everything, including the movements themselves and whether God is behind them. Almost nobody can question that. What did Jesus say about the narrow path? It seems to me that there is a huge fear of taking it and of thus getting off the wide path. That is the inversion of how it should be if we’re paying attention to what the Messiah actually said.
Ben
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