Disputatio XXVII De Essentiis Dispositionalibus

On Dispositional Essences

Quaeritur

Quaeritur utrum necessitas legum naturae possit sufficienter explicari per essentias dispositionales ipsarum rerum, an vero talis explicatio tandem recidat in naturalem essentialismum sine fundamento ontologico, qui rursus ad participationem infiniti redigitur.

It is asked whether the necessity of natural laws can be adequately explained by the dispositional essences of things themselves, or whether such an explanation ultimately collapses into an unfounded natural essentialism that once again requires participation in the Infinite.

Thesis

Dispositional essentialism seeks to ground the laws of nature in the intrinsic powers of entities. Accordingly, each thing, by virtue of what it is, behaves as it does. Laws are thus expressions of essence, not external constraints. Yet finite essence itself requires grounding for its actuality and coordination. Therefore, the appeal to dispositional essences displaces but does not resolve the need for an infinite ground of law.

Locus Classicus

“In him we live and move and have our being.” — Acts 17:28

The early Fathers, having read Paul in light of Hellenic metaphysics, interpreted this as a declaration that all powers and movements within creation presuppose divine causality. For example, Basil of Caesarea (Hexaemeron I.5) taught that “every natural power is the gift of divine energy,” and Aquinas affirmed that “omnis operatio naturae est actus Dei in natura” (ST I.105.5). Thus, even when power is intrinsic to a creature, its being and operation participate in the act of the Creator.

Explicatio

Dispositional essentialism emerged in late twentieth-century metaphysics as a reaction against both Humean regularity and Armstrong’s relational realism. Philosophers such as Brian Ellis, C. B. Martin, and Stephen Mumford argued that laws do not govern things from without but that the flow from within from the very essences or natures of entities. Accordingly, an electron repels another not because a law commands it, but because repulsion belongs to its nature. The behavior is thus essential and not contingent.

In this view, every natural property is dispositional; it is defined by its powers and tendencies. To possess a charge, mass, or spin just is to manifest appropriate dispositions under suitable conditions. Laws of nature are thus derivative descriptions of the necessary behaviors of these dispositional essences. Therefore, there are no separate laws or external principles, but only powers whose exercise constitutes the order of nature.

This approach elegantly restores necessity to the finite without invoking extrinsic governance. But the question remains: Whence the unity of this system of powers? If every essence carries its own necessity, what guarantees the coherence of those necessities across the totality of the world? Why do distinct powers not conflict or dissolve into chaos? While the finite essence, to be actual, must exist and operate within a coherent totality of being, that totality cannot itself be one of the powers. Rather, it must be the condition of their coexistence and harmony.

Hence, while dispositional essentialism succeeds in moving the locus of necessity inward—from external law to internal essence—it fails to remove the need for ontological participation. While essence, in so far as it is essence, is an intelligible structure of being, powers, however intrinsic, can only be participatory modes of a deeper enabling act.

Obiectiones

Objiectio I. According to Ellis in 2001, the essence of each natural kind explains its behavior. Thus, no further metaphysical foundation is required, and to demand more is to mistake explanation for regression.

Objiectio II. Martin argued in 2008 that disputations constitute causal grounds for their manifestations. Since power is primitive and self-explanatory, the world’s order is the network of powers acting according to their natures.

Objiectio III. Mumford in 2004 argued that laws are supervenient on dispositional essences, and hence add nothing ontologically to them. Thus, the finite order is self-sufficient so long as it consists of stable powers and their mutual tendencies.

Objiectio IV. Naturalistic Metaphysics claims that to appeal to an Infinite act is unnecessary duplication. If dispositions suffice for explanation, positing divine participation is a metaphysical surplus.

Objiectio V. Sometimes the theological tradition assumed that grounding the powers of things directly in the infinite may risk erasing natural causality. But the integrity of secondary causes requires that creatures possess genuine powers of their own.

Responsiones

Ad I. While essence may explain behavior, it does not explain existence. To say “the electron repels because it is its nature to repel” still leaves unasked why such a nature exists at all. Essence is formal cause and being is act. The latter cannot be derived from the former without reference to a self-sufficient act of existence.

Ad II. Power cannot be self-explanatory, for power is always power to act.The actuality of its exercise depends on a larger order within which it operates. Without a unifying act of being, powers remain mere potentialities without coherence.

Ad III. Supervenience explains correspondence but not causation. That laws supervene on essences tells us that essence and law covary, not why such correlation obtains. The dependence relation itself requires grounding.

Ad IV. Appealing to the infinite is not an additional move but a natural completion in the order of explanation.The Infinite is not another entity among the powers but the act in which all finite essences receive their actuality and unity. Without such an act, the multiplicity of powers lacks ontological coherence.

Ad V. Participation does not abolish finite agency but founds it. Creatures possess true powers because the infinite communicates actuality to them. Their independence as secondary causes is secured by the divine act that continuously sustains them in being.

Nota

Dispositional essentialism rightly perceives that the necessity of nature arises from within things themselves. It holds that each being acts according to what it is, and thus, its tendencies are not imposed from without but flow from its essence. The very intelligibility of this insight, however, betrays its limit, for the intrinsic power of a thing explains its manner of acting, not its capacity to act at all. Accordingly, the essence that disposes toward activity still requires an act that gives it existence and coherence.

Hence, the metaphysical question beneath dispositional essentialism is not why things act as they do, but why there are things capable of acting at all. To say that the stone falls because it has mass, or that the charge repels because it is charged, presupposes the ontological act by which stone and charge subsist. Clearly, while the essence disposes, only the act sustains.

The theological transformation of this view is participation. On this view, every finite power is a communicated potency; it receives from the Infinite Act not only its existence but its coordination with all others. The unity of law in the world, that is, the harmony among dispositions, is thus the reflection of the divine unity that gathers all powers into a single order of being. Nature’s lawfulness is the shadow of grace: finite essences cooperate because they share in one act of creation.

Dispositional essentialism, therefore, contains a veiled confession:
to affirm inner necessity is already to acknowledge the immanence of the divine act within creation. The Spirit is the bond that makes powers conspire toward intelligibility, and the Logos is the act through which each essence becomes dispositional at all. Necessity, properly understood, is participation in the divine constancy by which all things are held in being.

Determinatio

From the foregoing it is determined that:

1. Dispositional essentialism internalizes necessity but does not abolish dependence. Thus, finite essences are intelligible structures whose actuality presupposes a unifying act of being.

2. The unity of natural order cannot arise from a plurality of isolated powers. Coordination among dispositions requires an ontological ground transcending them.

3. Essence without act is impotent. The existence and operation of every power presuppose an act that is not itself one power among others. They thus presuppose an infinite act of being.

4. The participation of finite essences in the Infinite corresponds to the metaphysical structure of creation. As Augustine said, “Omne bonum quod habet creatura, habet participando” (De Diversis Quaestionibus 83.46). Powers are real and finite, and their actuality is participatory.

5. Hence, dispositional essentialism, though the most promising finite account, nonetheless points beyond itself. Its truth lies not in rejecting participation but in clarifying the mode of it: each finite power is a share in the creative act that sustains and orders all powers.

Therefore, the necessity of natural law is neither imposed from without nor self-generated from within. It arises from the participation of dispositional essences in the infinite act of being, in the Word through whom all powers subsist and in the Spirit who continuously actualizes their operation.

Transitus ad Disputationem XXVIII

The unity of nature cannot be secured from within the multiplicity of powers. The next disputation therefore asks whether finite systems, even when internally coherent, can ever be complete in themselves. 

We proceed to Disputatio XXVIII: De Systemate Incompleto et Veritatis Factore Infinito, in which the Gödelian structure of dependence reveals that every finite necessity presupposes an infinite act of truth.

Disputatio XXVI: De Universalibus Immanentibus et Necessitatione

On Immanent Universals and Necessitation

Quaeritur

Quaeritur utrum necessitas legum naturae sufficienter explicari possit per relationes reales inter universalia immanentia, an vero talis explicatio aut in regressum, aut in factum brutum, aut in participationem infiniti deveniat.

It is asked whether the necessity of natural law can be adequately explained by real relations among immanent universals, or whether such an explanation must ultimately collapse into regress, brute fact, or participation in the Infinite.

Thesis

Immanent realism explains regularity by positing universals instantiated within things and connected by real relations of necessitation. Yet the nexus that binds one universal to another either becomes an infinite regress, a brute primitive, or an implicit participation in an infinite unity. Thus, while immanent universals preserve realism, they cannot close the circle of explanation within the finite.

Locus Classicus

“He is before all things, and in him all things hold together.”
— Colossians 1:17

Patristic and scholastic theology interpreted this not as poetic hyperbole but as a metaphysical statement. Athanasius (Contra Gentes 41) held that creatures “stand fast by participation in the Word.” Aquinas, commenting on the same verse, wrote: “In ipso omnia constant, quia ipse est ratio essendi et ordinis in rebus.”(Super Colossenses I.17.) The order and interrelation of created forms thus depend upon the Logos as their unifying act.The attempt to ground such order solely in finite relations among universals severs form from source and leaves unity unexplained.

Explicatio

D. M. Armstrong, seeking a realist alternative to both Humean descriptivism and Platonic transcendence, developed a theory of immanent universals in What Is a Law of Nature? (Cambridge University Press, 1983) and A World of States of Affairs (1997). For Armstrong, universals are not abstract entities existing apart from things but real features instantiated in rebus. A natural law is then a relation of necessitation between such universals:

N(F, G) means that every instance of F is necessarily also an instance of G.

For example, the law “All electrons repel each other” corresponds to a relation N (being an electron, repelling other electrons). This N-relation is itself a real universal connecting others, not a mere linguistic rule.

Armstrong’s system preserves a realist ontology, for lawfulness exists in the world, not in our descriptions. It also avoids Platonism by keeping universals immanent.Yet the decisive problem lies in the status of the necessitation relation itself.

If N is simply another universal, it must stand in further relations explaining how it binds F and G—relations such as N′(N, F, G)—and so on ad infinitum. If N is primitive, we are left with unexplained necessity. If N is grounded in the overall structure of being, that structure functions as a transcendent unity, in effect, a metaphysical participation in the Infinite.

Thus Armstrong’s account, while internally rigorous, cannot ultimately provide a self-sufficient finite explanation. It gives us the mechanics of law but not its metaphysical coherence. The problem is not empirical but ontological: what makes the system of immanent relations one and necessary rather than a contingent web of co-instantiated properties?

Obiectiones

Objiectio I. In 1983 David Armstrong argued that immanent universals provide the ontological structure science presupposes. The relation of necessitation N is real and sufficient. No further grounding is needed.

Objiectio II. Moderate realism claims that by positing universals in rebus rather than ante res, we respect the finitude of creation and avoid both Humean nominalism and Platonic abstraction.

Objiectio III. Scientific pragmatism holds that the theory of immanent universals aligns well with scientific practice, which operates by discovering relations among properties, not by appealing to transcendent causes.

Objiectio IV. Empiricists argue that an infinite ground multiplies entities beyond necessity. The unity of laws is a consequence of the shared structure of matter and fields, not of any higher participation.

Objiectio V. The theologicus cautus ("cautious theologian") opines that to require an infinite explanation of finite order threatens to erase the integrity of secondary causes and the natural autonomy of creation.

Responsiones

Ad I. To say that N(F, G) is real explains that the relation exists, not why it obtains. Unless N itself is grounded, the account halts in primitive necessity. A brute tie between universals is no advance over the brute law it replaces.

Ad II. Immanent universals are indeed within things, yet their coordination across all things remains unexplained.The in rebus does not by itself yield the per se unity of the real. Participation in a higher act of being is required for coherence among universals.

Ad III. Scientific adequacy differs from metaphysical sufficiency.
Empirical inquiry describes how properties are correlated; metaphysics asks why such correlation is necessary. Armstrong’s ontology presupposes the unity it should explain.

Ad IV. The claim that matter and fields explain law simply restates the problem at a lower level. For the structure of matter and fields is itself law-like and requires grounding. Invoking the material order as ultimate converts contingent structure into absolute necessity without reason.

Ad V. Participation in the Infinite does not annul finite autonomy but establishes it. Only what is grounded in the Infinite can act coherently according to its own nature. The Spirit’s causal presence secures the creature’s integrity by making its lawfulness possible.

Nota 

The idea of universal immanence captures a profound half-truth.
On the one hand, it rightly discerns that the divine is not absent from the world but intimately present within it, sustaining the being of all that is. On the other hand, when detached from the transcendence that grounds it, immanence collapses into necessity without freedom, into an all-encompassing process in which God and world dissolve into one another.

Theology must therefore distinguish immanentia participationis from immenentia identitatis. In the first, the divine act is interior to all things as their sustaining cause; in the second, the divine and the creature are confused as modes of one process. But true immanence is participatory, not monistic. God is within all things precisely because all things are within God.

Necessity, when viewed in this light, is not mechanical but the mark of divine fidelity. The stability of natural law expresses the constancy of the creative Word, whose will does not waver. The same act by which God gives being gives order, and thus the regularity of the world is grace made habitual. Accordingly, immanence and necessity are not rival to transcendence and freedom; they are its temporal manifestation.

The absolute dependence of creatures upon the divine act entails that while God is more interior to them than they are to themselves, yet God remains infinitely beyond them. The world’s necessity is therefore double. It is necessary in itself because the divine act holds it in being, and yet contingent before God, who freely gives it.

Universal immanence, properly understood, is the metaphysical form of providence:the Creator’s continuous presence as the reason for the world’s coherence. This providence is the “necessity of grace,” the steady rhythm of divine constancy through which all that is remains possible.

Determinatio

From the foregoing it is determined that:

1. Armstrong’s immanent realism preserves ontology but not ultimacy. The N-relation that ties universals together is either another universal (regress), an unexplained primitive (brute fact), or a reflection of a deeper unity (participation).

2. Finite relations cannot ground universal coherence. The multiplicity of universals demands a unifying act that is not itself one among them. Without such an act, law remains accidental coordination.

3. The appeal to the Infinite is not extrinsic but intrinsic. The very notion of “necessitation” implies participation in an unconditioned ground of necessity. The Infinite is the metaphysical horizon within which immanent universals receive their order.

4. The participation of universals in the Infinite corresponds to the theological doctrine of the Logos. As the eternal form of all forms, the Logos is the ratio essendi and ratio ordinis of finite properties. Law, in this light, is the reflection of divine intelligibility within creation.

5. Hence, immanent realism, while the most sophisticated of finite explanations, points beyond itself. Its internal coherence is the sign of participation, not self-sufficiency. In the Infinite Word, the many relations of the finite find their unity; in the Spirit, they find their continuous actuality.

Therefore, the necessity of natural law cannot rest in the N-relations of universals alone but requires the participation of all finite forms in the Infinite act of being — in ipso omnia constant.

Transitus ad Disputationem XXVII

If universal immanence reveals that the divine act is interior to all things as the ground of their necessity,then theology must next inquire how that immanent act manifests within the distinct natures of creatures themselves. After all, divine constancy, to be real, must articulate itself in finite structures of power and tendency. The same Word who upholds all being also orders its operations; the regularity of nature is the expression of this inner form.

Hence we turn to Disputatio XXVII: De Essentiis Dispositionalibus,
in which we ask whether the necessity of natural law arises from the intrinsic powers of things, or whether even these dispositions, in all their apparent autonomy, depend upon participation in the infinite act that both constitutes and coordinates them.

Disputatio XXV: De Regularitatibus Humeanis

On Humean Regularities

Quaeritur

Quaeritur utrum leges naturae sint tantum descriptiones constantium eventuum in mundo, an vere exprimant necessarias rationes essendi quae exigunt causam extra ipsam seriem eventuum.

It is asked whether the laws of nature are merely descriptions of the constant conjunctions of events in the world, or whether they express necessary relations of being that require a cause beyond the series of events themselves.

Thesis

The Humean account of natural law as mere regularity confuses description with necessity and drains law from having real ontological force. If laws are nothing but patterns within phenomena, then the world lacks any genuine principle of order. Accordingly, to recover necessity, the finite must once again refer beyond itself to an infinite ground in which the possibility of law is constituted.

Locus Classicus

“He makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust.”
— Matthew 5:45

The constancy of divine action in nature, understood here as fidelitas Dei, was read by Augustine (Enarrationes in Psalmos 147.18) and Aquinas (ST I.103.8) as evidence that natural regularities are not self-existent but proceed from a sustaining cause. Luther, in his lectures on Genesis, described the continuance of natural order as the “mask of God” (Larva Dei), behind which divine agency preserves creation. Thus, constancy itself is a sign of dependence, not autonomy.

Explicatio

The Humean conception of law arose in the Treatise of Human Nature (1739–40) and the Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding (1748), where David Hume denied that we ever perceive necessary connection between events. From this epistemic premise, he concluded that laws of nature are nothing more than uniform patterns of experience: a "constant conjunction" of similar events leading the mind to expect one after the other. On this view, necessity is not in things but in thought; it is a “habit of imagination.”

In the twentieth century, David Lewis sought to preserve Hume’s metaphysics while providing a systematic account of laws. In A Subjectivist’s Guide to Objective Chance (1980) and Philosophical Papers, vol. II (1986), Lewis articulated the Best-System Analysis (BSA) in which laws are the generalizations that occur given the axioms of the simplest and strongest deductive system that best summarizes all particular facts: the “Humean mosaic” of local matters of fact. A law, then, is whatever appears in the optimal balance between simplicity and strength in describing the total history of the world.

The appeal of this position is its ontological economy: no mysterious necessities, only patterns; no governing principles, only description.
Yet its cost is high: it leaves the world without internal order or modal depth. The regularity of events may be observed, but the reason for that regularity is left unspoken. On Humeanism, the universe is a sequence without syntax, a film of contiguous frames in which connection is projected by the mind. In such a world, the word law is metaphor; nothing obliges events to recur, and the distinction between possible and impossible collapses into mere fact and non-fact.

Theologically, this view is untenable. It denies both creation’s intelligibility and divine fidelity. To call law a mental convenience is to deny that the world speaks truthfully of its Maker. Reason, however, testifies otherwise, for the constancy of nature presupposes an underlying act of being that makes regularity possible.

Obiectiones

Objiectio I. Already in 1748 David Hume had argued that all necessity arises from habit. We never perceive any power or connection in nature. Therefore, what we call a law is only an observed uniformity in experience.

Objiectio II. In 1980 David Lewis claimed that to treat laws as abstract necessities adds ontological baggage. The world is a mosaic of local facts. The “Best System” captures their pattern without positing mysterious connections.

Objiectio III. Empiricists say that science requires only prediction, not metaphysical grounding. Whether laws “exist” beyond description is irrelevant to the success of physics.

Objiectio IV. According to nominalism, the notion of an infinite truthmaker is incoherent. Necessity is linguistic convenience; to speak of grounding is to confuse semantics with ontology.

Objiectio V. Liberal theology avers that reading divine causality into natural regularity is to return to pre-critical metaphysics. Lawfulness may express God’s reliability metaphorically, but it requires no metaphysical participation.

Responsiones

Ad I. Observation alone yields correlation, not connection. If necessity were merely mental habit, then any sequence could become law through repetition, which contradicts both experience and reason. Our recognition of constant conjunction presupposes that reality itself is structured for recurrence.

Ad II. The Best-System Analysis transforms the ontological into the epistemic. It tells us what generalizations we find simplest, not why the world is ordered so as to be summarized. The balance of simplicity and strength explains convenience, not causation.

Ad III. Science as practice may ignore metaphysical foundations, but the intelligibility of science presupposes them. If the universe were pure contingency, induction itself would be unjustified. The success of empirical prediction depends upon a real order antecedent to observation.

Ad IV. To reduce necessity to language is self-refuting, for the reduction itself claims necessity. Semantic regularity cannot explain ontological stability. Laws must be more than linguistic; they must participate in a structure of being.

Ad V. The metaphysical reading of divine causality is not regression but completion. Scripture’s description of the world’s constancy as divine faithfulness grounds natural order in personal being. To deny participation is to make the creation silent about its Creator.

Nota 

This disputation confronts the decisive modern rupture in the understanding of law and causality. Whereas the preceding disputations discerned in natural order the reflection of divine reason and the imprint of legibus primitivis, modern empiricism, epitomized by Hume, denies that any necessity or intrinsic connection binds events together. According to this view, so-called “laws of nature” are but habits of observation—regular successions that the mind projects as necessity out of custom. The world thus loses its inner ratio; causality becomes expectation, and order a fiction of the perceiving subject.

In this disputation we examine the implications of this Humean reduction. Can theology accept a cosmos governed only by constant conjunction without undermining the very possibility of providence, creation, and divine intelligibility? If natural law is but descriptive regularity, how can the world be a medium of revelation or a site of divine action? The question touches not only metaphysics but also epistemology, for in the collapse of necessity the mind itself loses participation in the rational structure of being.

Therefore Disputatio XXV tests the theological coherence of the modern naturalist paradigm. It contrasts the participatory order of lex aeterna and legibus primitivis with the secularized uniformity of Humean regularity, seeking to determine whether a purely empirical account of law can sustain the intelligibility of creation or whether it inevitably dissolves the Logos into the contingencies of perception. In this way, it prepares the path toward the retrieval of a richer metaphysical realism in Disputatione XXVI: De Immanentia Universali et Necessitate.

Determinatio

From the foregoing it is determined that:

1. The Humean and Lewisian accounts evacuate natural law of real necessity. By reducing law to description, they destroy the very distinction between order and coincidence.

2. Regularity theory fails the coordination test. It cannot explain why distinct patterns harmonize across domains,why electromagnetism and gravitation, time and entropy, compose one coherent cosmos.

3. Reason’s demand for sufficient cause (PSR) re-emerges. If law is mere pattern, PSR is violated, and intelligibility perishes.The mind’s refusal to accept brute regularity is itself evidence of participation in an Infinite intelligibility.

4. The finite order requires a ground that is both necessary and self-explanatory. Such a ground cannot lie within the Humean mosaic; it must transcend it while remaining immanent as its condition.

5. Hence, the constancy of nature is participatory: the world’s regularities exist not ex se but per participationem in the Infinite act of being. What the theologian calls divine providence, the philosopher names the unconditioned truthmaker of order.

Therefore, the Humean view of law as regularity fails both scientifically and metaphysically. While it can describe, it cannot explain; while it can record, it cannot ground. Thus, the world is not a mosaic of inert facts but a living participation in the Logos, in whom all order holds together.

Transitus ad Disputationem XXVI

In the preceding disputation it was shown that the Humean conception of law as mere regularity severs the bond between mind and world, dissolving necessity into habit and rendering the cosmos unintelligible from within. The world thus appears as a theater of sequences without reasons—an ordered surface lacking interior logos. Against this view, theology must ask whether there remains a deeper mode of necessity, one not imposed from without nor abstracted by thought, but immanent in things themselves as their participation in divine reason.

This question turns our attention from the empirical pattern to the metaphysical structure that makes such pattern possible. If order is real, it must inhere in being as such; universals must be operative within the concrete, not floating above it. How, then, are these universalia immanentia to be conceived? Are they divine ideas within things, the ontological forms of their participation in the Logos, or the very conditions of their acting and being acted upon?

Therefore we advance to Disputationem XXVI: De Universalibus Immanentibus et Necessitatione, in which we shall inquire how necessity arises from within the order of being itself, how universals dwell in the particular as formative presence, and how through this immanent structure the world remains transparent to the intelligibility of God.

Model-Theoretic Considerations for Theological Semantics

I

I have for many years been convinced that the theological enterprise cannot survive in our age without affording to its language robust truth conditions.  Contemporary men and women presuppose what Jaegwon Kim once called Alexander's Dictum, that is, "to be is to have causal powers."  We don't live in the 19th century where ideas themselves are thought to have a kind of reality; we don' t live in a time in which the conceptuality of God can remain important for vast numbers of people. 

In our days, people are not generally searching to find some overarching concept or principle that grounds our rational thinking about life and existence, a notion that might somehow explain why human experience is given as it is, and accordingly, somehow ground the preciousness and value of that experience.  While Madonna once sung of a "material girl," we generally acknowledge that, even in our churches, the cultural primacy of the physical reigns.  The new atheism talks breathlessly of its discovery of a worldview without divine agency and causality -- as if such a view of things is in any way new.  There is an assumption of the causal closure of the physical among many unwashed in the complexities of the actual relations holding among experience, theory and truth, among those who simply believe that the theories of the natural and social sciences simply state the way things are.  

The idea is easy enough to grasp.  Consider this structure <{x | x is a natural event}, C>.  This is a structure consisting of the set of all natural events and a causal operator C relating members of this set of events to each other.  This structure can satisfy these two assertions:  1) For all x, there is some x (or other) that causes x, and 2) For all x, if x is caused, then it is caused by some x (or other).  What is precluded by this structure is that there is an x that can be caused by some event or agency that is outside the set {x | x is a natural event}, or that x causes some event or state of affairs outside the set {x | x is a natural event}.  Simply put, there are no non-physical events causing physical events, nor no physical events causing non-physical events.  

In addition to the causal closure of the physical assumed by many impressed with the results and progress of the natural and social sciences, it is also supposed, though not always as clearly, by the heralds of late nineteenth century radical criticism, that human beings are somehow alienated when they fail to come to terms with the physicality of their fate.  Feuerbach, Freud, Marx, and Nietzsche, all, in their own way, argued that the illusion of the traditional God connects with the fundamental alienation of men and women.  Marx, for instance, argued that human value and ideology is determined by underlying economic processes, and that the concept of God simply operates to block human beings from understanding the basic materiality of their existence.  The God concept sanctions prevailing ideology and functions to keep in place value ideologies grounded in the unequal distribution of economic materiality.  

Most people that continue to practice the Christian life believe that there is a God and that God is active in the world, i.e., they assume that "to be is to have causal powers" and that God has causal powers.  They speak about the divine design of the universe, and about the power of prayer, particularly prayers of petition.  They assume that there are things that have come about that would not have come about were there no God, and that there are events and processed that have not come about that would have come about were there no God.   

The structure they assume is perhaps this: <{x | x is an event}, g, C, D> where there is a set of natural events and there is God, and that there is a binary natural causal operator C linking natural events to other natural events, and a binary divine causal operator D, linking natural events to divine agency, e.g., 'Dgp' means God divinely produces event p, with p being a member of the set of all natural events.  

Metaphysics remains crucial in theology because claims about that beyond the physical are by nature metaphysical, and assuming God to be with causal powers means that something beyond the physical is bringing about something physical.  This is clearly a metaphysical claim. To afford to theological language robust truth conditions in an age that assumes that to be is to have causal powers means that theology must be self-consciously and boldly metaphysical.  There must be intellectual honesty here.  Either theological language is broadly expressive of the self, its experiences and existential orientations and possibilities, or it is a rule-governed customary discourse by and through which human communities function and operate in the world, or it is a type of discourse that non-subjectively donates possible ways of being, or perhaps it is realist in its motivations; it states what its utterers believe is the ultimate constitution of things.  

One needs to think through these issues very clearly.  What are either the truth or assertibility conditions of theological language if one eschews realism?  Are sentences in the language rightly assertible simply because my tribe (the theological tradition) has traditionally asserted them?  But clearly the assertibility condition cannot simply be 'x is properly assertible' if and only if x has been asserted by normative theologians of tradition T over time t.  Why? In order even to begin to evaluate that claim we must know the identity conditions of 'normative theologian' and 'tradition' and 'time'.   

Are the assertions of theology then either descriptions of the self -- its experience and existential orientations -- or are they expressions of the self?  Clearly, embracing the latter is to give up on truth,  for it entails that assertibility must be understood broadly in terms of a "boo hurrah" theory of theological language.  But the former alternative is not much better, for on its assumption the truth-makers of all theological language are not theological.  On this view, models satisfying a set of theological assertions are not theological models at all because the sets, functions and relations of the models deal with the human.  Since human dispositions, experiences, and orientations are operated upon by relations and functions, these functions and relations ultimately concern the human. The fact that such models can satisfy a class of theological statements, should give us pause about what it is we are doing when we provide theological models. 

But there is another alternative, for we might hold that theological language somehow operates to disclose truth, that language, the Word, in its wording grants world and our place within it must itself be given a theological model.  But it is to me unclear exactly how this model can be constructed coherently.  Models or structures concern domains with functions and relations drawn upon those domains. But what can be the domain of the creative Word?  Remember that revelation is not insight.  Insight concerns an intellectual grasp of that which is already present.  Revelation, on the other hand, is a daring grasp of what is not present, but which shows itself eschatologically.  There is so much that can be said here, but I cannot in this brief essay say it.  We must move to the central issue of the influence that model-theoretic arguments might have for one who in her theological semantics, is broadly speaking realist. 

II

While I could only sketch briefly in the last section my prima facie reservations with non-realist construals of theological language, I will assume in this section that the reader is sufficiently persuaded by what I have said to give theological realism a try.  Theological realism, simply put, is the view that God, and divine states of affairs generally, exist and have the particular contour they have apart from human awareness, perception, conception and language.   Theological realism is thus a species of external realism, the view the world consists of entities, properties, events, relations and states of affairs which, broadly speaking, exists independently of our human perceptual and conceptual processing, or, more to the point, apart from our epistemic structures and capabilities.   We might call this the independence thesis with regard to external realism. 

I am convinced with many others that external realism makes two other important claims as well.  The first is the correspondence thesis which claims that statements about the world are true if and only if they correspond in appropriate ways with how the world actually is. (Clarifying what 'correspondence' and 'appropriate' might mean here is notoriously difficult.)  The other thesis of external realism one can be called the Cartesian thesis which states that although our theories about the world might meet all theoretical and operational constraints of an ideal theory, we could still be wholly wrong in our theory.  Since the theory is made true (or false) by how the world is apart from us, it is always logically possible to be wrong about everything that we might say about it.  Satisfying all theoretical and operational constraints does not a theory true make.  Only the way the world is can make the theory true or false.  The external realist thus seems committed to all of these: the independence thesis, the correspondence thesis, and the Cartesian thesis.  

Hilary Putnam in his famous "Models and Reality" distinguishes among three positions in the philosophy of mathematics.  These positions deal with both truth and reference in mathematics, and are thus, for him and for us, relevant to considerations of truth and reference with respect to external realism generally.  These positions are: 

• Platonism which, according to Putnam, "posits nonnatural mental powers of directly 'grasping' the forms" (Models and Reality, p. 24). This notion of grasping is primitive and cannot be further explicated.  Those familiar with Husserl's description of phenomenological intentionality will understand this quickly.  
• Verificationalism replaces the classical Tarskian notion of truth with verificational processes or proof.  Mathematic assertions are not true in any deep sense, but they are assertible on the basis of other mathematical procedures. Verificationist proposals within the philosophy of science of the last century are connected to this. 
• Moderate Realism, for Putnam, "seeks to preserve the centrality of the classical notions of truth and reference without postulating nonnatural powers" (Ibid.).  The idea here is that mathematical assertions are true, but that their truth does not involve one in a deep process of grasping or understanding the structure of some Platonic heaven.  

Putnam believes that arguments built upon the "Skolem-Paradox" are germane to a moderate realist perspective within mathematics and the external realist perspective in metaphysics generally.  These arguments are known in the literature as "model theoretic" arguments, and they basically exploit the difference in model theory between what might be intended and what might be said.  If one is a non-naturalist when it comes to semantics -- that is, if one thinks that semantic objects, properties, relations and functions are natural objects and does not involve non-natural magic -- then one has a problem with reference, because many models can make true the very same class of sentences.  This means, that one cannot naturally fix reference, that is, what the sentences say is logically independent from what one might mean to say in their saying.  

Putnam draws conclusions from this that are quite far reaching.  For instance, he claims that metaphysical realism (external realism generally) in incoherent, and that 'brain in vat' or 'evil demon" (Descartes) scenarios cannot even be coherently stated.  Putnam throughout tries to show that, because of the problem of reference, one cannot even state the conditions necessary to formulate the brain-in-vat/evil demon hypothesis. In other words, the necessary conditions for the possibility of posing the brain-in-vat scenario cannot obtain because a certain type of reference must be had by the language in stating the scenario, and since this type of reference cannot be had, the scenario cannot be coherently stated.  In other words, while it might appear that we could be a brain in a vat, we really can't be one, for to be one demands that we can refer to being a brain in a vat, and this we cannot do.  

Putnam employs a bit of a technical branch of logic known as model theory and there are considerable arguments in the literature about the effectiveness of his employment of these resources.  There are arguments as to the number and effectiveness of distinct model-theoretic arguments that Putnam uses, and their ultimate effectiveness in attacking metaphysical realism. All of this, I will lay out at another time.  What is important for us, however, is this question: Why is any of this important for theology? 

III

I believe that theological language must be given a realist construal if we are to retain it.  Long ago, I argued that the arguments for the elimination of theological language are strong, and that only a realist interpretation of theological language will likely stem the collapse of such language into reduction and ultimate elimination.  I can't rehearse that here, but know that I believe that theological realism best coheres with the principle that to be is to have causal powers. 

Notice now that if we afford to theological language realist truth conditions we seem to be interpreting it in ways that best connect to the classical Christian tradition.  Believers throughout the centuries assumed that there is a God, that one could refer to God, and that once could talk meaningfully about God's relationship with His universe, both in terms of creation and redemption.  It is extremely difficult, I think, to argue that the horizon of the Reformation is one in which one of the three following is not presupposed: theological realism, semantic realism, and theophysical causation.  The Reformers thought that God exists apart from human awareness, perception, conception and language, that our language about God is true or false apart from the ways in which we verify or come to hold it true or false, and that God is in principle capable of causal relations with nature and the historical realities of nature.  

So on the assumption of external realism when it comes to theology, what are the repercussions of model-theoretic arguments on theological semantics?  

At this point we must appreciate how important reference is for theological language.  We are using theological words and phrases, and if we must ultimately give a realist construal to theological language then reference turns out to be the key to theological semantics generally.  'God is in Christ reconciling the world unto Himself' is true only if 'God' refers, 'Christ' refers, 'world' refers, and the relation of 'reconciling' can be drawn between the world and Christ.  But now the question, if reference is so important, why cannot it be something intended?  Why can we not simply say that intentionality fixes reference and that we don't need to worry about model-theoretic considerations at all?   Remember, Putnam had said that model-theoretic arguments really apply to the moderate realist in mathematics and the metaphysical realist; they are not aimed at one who holds that intentionality can be fixed nonnaturally by something like Husserl's "ego rays."  If one wants to hold intentionality as a nonexplicatable primitive, then can't we simply say that our intentionality determines reference in the theological order, as well as the mathematical and metaphysical orders? 

Here is the problem with this response.  While one might hold that one can intend cherries or trees by nonnaturally fixing one's gaze upon them, one cannot seem easily to do that when it comes to God or the inner workings of the Trinity.  After all, "nobody has ever seen God."  How can one intend that which has no clear content?  The theological tradition knew the apophatic nature of God-talk.  We can never be given the proper content to think God, because the content of our thoughts pertain to the finite order and God is infinite. Our thoughts of God do not thus determine our reference to God; our intentionality cannot issue in reference, because we cannot be given that by virtue of which reference is determined. Instead of intentionality granting an intensionality that determines reference, our theological language -- the language of the tradition -- speaks about God and God's relationship to His creation.  The ways of talking about God are very important indeed!  God's name is that by virtue of which reference is established, and maybe for Christians -- or perhaps all the monotheistic religions of the west -- this happened at the burning bush.  (Recall here Kripke's "initial baptism" of the tretragrammaton at the burning bush in Exodus.) 

It is important here to grasp what is at stake. If intentionality cannot fix reference to the divine, and if we don't want to give up truth to some verificationist-inspired theological position -- that is to say, if we want to be realists in theology -- then we seem to find ourselves in theology with no other option than to have to take the model-theoretic arguments seriously with regard to theological realism.  This means that not only are model-theoretic arguments relevant to theology, they might be crucial to its very future.  If model-theoretic arguments yield a knock-out blow to external realism, of which theological realism is a species, and if realism is essential in providing a defendable semantics for theology, then model-theoretic arguments may pose a much deeper threat to theological discourse than we previously might have thought. 

So what is at stake with respect to model-theoretic consideration in theological semantics?  I think it likely that the future of theology itself might be at stake. But consideration of this must await another time.  It is upon that which I am toiling a new manuscript.  

Worlds and Difference: Theology in an Ecstatic Age?

I. When the World Was What it Was

Once upon a time in the west we believed that there was a world that existed apart from us.  There were many versions of how this was so, but the paradigm was clear: Entities and the properties that they instance are what they are apart from human awareness, perception, conception and language.  

Aristotle (384-322 BCE) spoke of primary substances as the basic building blocks of the world. These substances have properties that are either present in them or can be said of them.  Those properties that are present in the primary substances are called accidents.  They inhere in primary substances, and constitute the way that the substances can be modified.  Accidents are always parasitic on substances; they cannot obtain other than being in a primary substance.  Aristotle identified nine accidents that primary substances could have: quantity, quality, relation, habit (state), time, location, position, action and passion.  

Primary substances and their nine accidents constitute the ten categories Aristotle discusses in his book, The Categories.  The important point is that the accidents do not individuate one substance from another.  Rather, individuation of substances happens at an ontological level prior to accidents.  Substances come already individuated, and these already individuated substances sustain accidents that that modify it; they constitute at any time how the substance is being the substance that it is. 

For Aristotle, however, substances are more than their mere accidental properties.  Certain things can be said of these primary substances, and that which can be said of primary substances are not accidental to these substances.  For instance, 'man' can be said of Socrates, and the predication of 'man' to 'Socrates' is not an accident of Socrates, because while Socrates could presumably be Socrates and not have his snub nose, Socrates cannot be Socrates without being a man.  In The Categories, Aristotle asserts that the secondary substance man is said of the primary substance Socrates.  This said of relation concerns what is essential to Socrates, that without which Socrates could not be Socrates.  

Secondary substances in Aristotle are clearly a reworking of Plato's notion of the forms.  For Plato, the form man is instantiated at the location of Socrates and is accordingly that which is known when one knows Socrates as a man.  Plato famously gives ontological priority to the forms (universals) over the concrete particulars that instantiate them. Aristotle's secondary substances, however, do not have the ontological priority Plato had given to the forms. For Aristotle, concrete primary substances are more real than the abstract secondary substances that can be said of them.  Accordingly, the world for Aristotle is comprised of concrete primary substances having essential properties by virtue of the said of relation and accidental properties by virtue of the present in relation. 

This basic way of seeing the world in terms of substances and properties was firmly in place by the thirteenth century with its so-called "rediscovery of Aristotle", and it survived throughout the Reformation and the trajectories of theological development arising immediately from it. The idea of substances possessing properties formed the basic metaphysical background on which both the physical world and the world of the divine rested.  While it was always problematic in the theological tradition simply to think of God as a substance having properties, the idea that God is some thing existing on its own apart from human awareness, perception, conception and language seemed clear enough.  While it might stretch language to call God a 'substance', God nevertheless does, like any substance, exist on its own and is individuated in itself. Accordingly, the world comes ready-made, both with respect to primary physical substances and the most important entity of all: God. Things are what they are apart from human beings.  The ontological order is thus independent from the human epistemological activity of knowing it.  

Aristotle and the tradition prior to the Enlightenment was thus realist with respect to its understanding of substances and the properties they might have.  This realism extended to the notion of causality as well.  Aristotle famously gave a four-fold analysis of causality, citing a material, formal, efficient and final cause for why a substance can give up some of its properties while assuming new ones.  The idea is that any substance is what it is by virtue of it being "formed matter," or "actualized potentiality."  Any object that is, is what it is by virtue of its individuating form which makes it a particular substance.  Aristotle's hylomorphism claims that all substances are constituted by particular actualizations of that which could have been actualized in a different ways.  A substance's nature constitutes the whatness by virtue of which an object is that which it is.  

Change happens in two basic ways. If one substance is to cease and another substance begin, there must be a change in that substance's form.  If a substance is to be modified some of its accidental properties must cease and others must rise.  In both instances, the substances already posses the possibility of these transformations.  What is needed is an efficient cause to collapse the possibility of this transformation into a determinate actualization.  The substance water is potentially ice, but this potentiality is actualized when. temperatures reach a particular level.  

Aristotle, however, saw the universe teleologically, and thus added a fourth cause to the material, formal and efficient causes.  Trajectories of transformation must ultimately be explained in terms of purpose or final cause. The final cause of the acorn is an oak tree, and this cause operates in selecting among efficient causes to actualize substances in particular ways over time. The point of all of this is that Aristotle saw causality as built into the nature of things.  For him, both substances and the causal connections in which they are ingredient have a determinate trajectory apart from human awareness, perception, conception and language.  

While the language of substances, properties and causality seemed suited for conceiving the natural world, medieval thinkers knew that problems arose in using the Aristotelian categories to understand the divine.  God clearly exists apart from us, but His having of properties is not like our having of properties, and any changes that might be attributed to Him cannot be the result of external efficient causality.  

Of course, the tradition held that the perfection of God entailed his immutability.  Were God to change, God would need to move from one state to another. But if God is perfect, God cannot move from one state to another because either God would have to move from a state of lesser perfection to a state of perfection -- and thus not be perfect -- or move from a state of perfection to a state of lesser perfection -- and thus not be perfect. 

 Thomas Aquinas (1225-1274) following much of the tradition famously argued for the divine simplicity of God by claiming property-talk of God does not pick out in God some properties that God may or may not have, but such talk merely is a way of characterizing, picking out, or referring to the divinely simple substance that is God.  Accordingly, 'God is good' cannot mean that the substance God has the property of goodness, but is a picking out of some being without parts, a being of which one might attribute goodness merely analogically.  Whatever God is in se, God is more like a being to which we might customarily attribute goodness than to a being to which we might customarily attribute evil.  

When it came to Christology in the age of when the world was what it was, Christ had to be understood to be some kind of substance or person who had its own principle of individuality and who is what He is apart from human awareness, perception, conception and language.  Such a person has natures or batches of properties, some of which are essential and some accidental for Christ being the person He is.  The Trinity and incarnation must be understood realistically.  Just as the world is what it is apart from us, so is Christ and his Trinitarian and incarnational relationships what they are apart from us.  Human salvation too must be understood realistically.  The believer is a person who is who she is, and Christ who is who He is apart from her (and us) effects a transformation of the believer (either intrinsically or extrinsically) such that the properties that the person has are themselves changed.  All of this could be talked about through Aristotelian notions of causality.  On the basis of a final cause, there is an efficient cause that collapses potentiality into actuality; indeterminate matter is formed.  Accordingly, the real ontic unity of theosis must be understood metaphysically.  There are properties of believer and properties of Christ such that parts of the believer change and the believer is not that which the believer once was.  

Since what I am attempting here is merely a sketch of that time when the world was what it was, I will not develop further here a fully metaphysical Christology except to say that Christology had to be understood metaphysically at this time.  This is not to say that this metaphysical understanding was all that there was to Christology.  The relation of sin, justification, faith, and regeneration is complex, and, as Luther taught us, metaphysical categories strain to express the reality of God and his relationship to us.  

II. When the World was What it was For Us 

Kant (1724-1804) famously argued that we have no immediate experience to thing-in-themselves, but only things in so far as they already are for us.  Kant argued that the realm of the thing-in-itself was supersensible because no human senses could put us into touch with this realm.  Knowledge of the world we experience proceeds, for Kant, through our encounter with objects already constituted by us. Conception without perception if void and perception without conception is blind.  

Kant's solution to the problem that had beset Descartes (1596-1650) and had become acute in the British empiricists -- the problem of the external world -- was that while we do not have immediate access to the external world apart from us, we do encounter the external world as already organized by us.  This means inter alia the the "externality of the world," the contour of the world as it is presumably apart from us is already a product of us.  We have mediated access to the external world. Accordingly, when we know the external world, we know our representation (organization) of it. While the realm of experience may be a "joint product" of mind and external world, we only have access to that which is already organized by the mind.  Accordingly, knowing the other -- the otherness of the world -- is to know ourselves profoundly, for we are the ones organizing the world of experience.   

Kant inaugurated the tradition of transcendental reflection: What are the necessary conditions for the possibility of experience itself? Kant argued plausibly that the contingency of the world is grounded both in the necessary structures by which we organize percepts in space and time and those necessary concepts that function as rules by which the manifold of perception is united. 

After Kant the world was not the same. The world does not come as it is in itself, a world so metaphysically regular that we can find general categories by which to comprehend it, rather the world comes bearing the marks of the determining judgments of the human understanding by which objects take on the general features they do.  Famously, the world is not in itself an arena in which self-determining substances are what they are while being causally connected one to the other.  Rather the world reflects the very order we put upon it.  Just as we are autonomous with respect to morality, so are we with respect to the external world. We are the law-makers of each realm!  Since we are law-makers of the moral and worldly, we gain insight into ourselves when we know the world.  Knowing the other happens only in and through knowing ourselves, our capacities and proclivities of organization.  While the world apart from us -- the supersensible realm -- remains hidden in itself, we know something about it by examining the capacities we have to reflect it. 

Kant, and not Fichte, was in many ways the author of German idealism.  Kant knew that the world was reflected in our activity of reflecting upon our own reflecting.  The transcendental world is not like the old world-in-itself.  In the transcendental world, we find not things in the world, but rather things as they show themselves in their aboutness of the world in us.  While the older Aristotelian way of thinking posits primary substances existing on their own, Kant's objects are those by concepts of which the manifold of experience is united.  Transcendental questions don't deal with the world, but the conditions by which the world is the world.  To explore the transcendental horizon is to dig deeper than the world in order to find those structures which make the world possible.  The world as world is made possible by that transcendental unity of apperception by and through which the world in its particularity is birthed.  

The story after Kant is so well known that it scarcely needs repeating.  Fichte denied the cut between the world in itself and the world for us, and thus ridded philosophy of that which cannot be accessed and is not needed to explain the particularity of the world.  Accordingly, when it comes to the world, the spade does not need to stop somewhere in some dull non-conscious things existing somewhere outside us waiting to be known.  For Fichte, all that is necessary is that one thinks, and in one's thinking the world in its particularity is born.  

Fichte's take on Kant motivated subsequent thinkers like Shelling and Hegel to reflect upon their acts of reflection,  an act they called "speculation" from the Latin word for mirror, speculum.  To reflect on reflecting is no longer to access things, but to reflect on those conditions by and through which things are organized before us.   

Kant, Fichte, Shelling and Hegel together constitute a trajectory of thinking that denies the immediacy of the world.  The world is not what it is apart from human awareness, perception, conception and language, and there can be no immediate apprehension of it.  Instead our apprehension of the world is mediated by the particularity of our perceptual and conceptual organizing activity.  But while all of these thinkers knew that knowing the world is mediated by the particularity of that by which the world is known -- the human epistemic apparatus --- they nonetheless followed Descartes in assuming that they can directly know themselves.  We have access to our own ideas, after all!  While our ideas or "representations" constitute a screen through which the world is known, there is no screen at all between us and our ideas.   

Descartes had argued that while I can conceive of a scenario in which my seeming knowledge of the world is not genuine knowledge, I cannot conceive of a scenario in which my seeming knowledge of myself is not genuine knowledge. Since the condition of doubt is that there exists one who doubts, the condition for doubting the immediacy of the world is the immediacy of the self doubting.  While critical thought can dislodge the immediacy of the world in its doubting the world, it cannot dislodge the immediacy of the self as the transcendental condition for the possibility of doubting the world. 

Accordingly, while Kant is wary of trusting that the world really is in se what it appears to be pro nobis, he seemingly gives transcendental reflection a complete pass.  There is a transcendental unity of apperception that makes possible the unity of our experience, and while we can legitimately question whether the unity of our experience rests upon how the world might be apart from us, we cannot question what the transcendental unity of apperception might be apart from our apprehension of it.  Clearly, the game has changed. There is no longer a world that is what it is apart from human awareness, perception, conception and language.  Human beings give natural laws to the order of nature.  However, the necessary conditions for the possibility of experience as such are what they are apart from human awareness, perception, conception and language.  In transcendental reflection we reach an arena of objectivity. While the world is mediately known, we have an immediate apprehension in transcendental reflection of that by which the world is mediately known. 

By the time of Hegel (1770-1831), however, problems with this picture are emerging.  Hegel knew that the categories by which the world is known are not simply objectively present and ready for the fateful gaze of transcendental reflection. They are not simply "shot from the pistol," but are themselves dynamic and in play historically.  Hegel recognized that the subject's grasp of its own self through its categories were at issue if one could not explain how the dynamism of the categories is itself objective.  Accordingly, Hegel's move to absolute knowledge is a move by which the immediacy of the categories could be restored.  

If knowledge is at all to be possible, there must be a perspective that gets to the thing itself.  If this is not the world, then it must be those transcendental conditions by which the world becomes world.  Since the immediacy of those transcendental conditions cannot be vouchsafed any longer by the subject, these conditions must be guaranteed by the Absolute that "takes up" all conditioned finite perspectives, whose taking up itself is necessary for the writing of books about the "taking up."  The Absolute Idea unfolds through concepts allowing the grasping of transcendental content, a historically mediated grasping that grants an immediacy to that which would otherwise remain wholly mediated. 

Notice that as the world became what it is for us, the world of as it is for us was true both of the manifest image of the world as well as its scientific image (Sellars). The manifest image of the world is clearly not the world as it is in itself. The scientific image which tries to explain those mechanisms by virtue of which the world is manifest, however, is often assumed to be what ultimately is the case.  However, it is clear that if there is no immediate access to the world in itself as the manifest world, there can be no such access to the world in itself as the scientific world of mechanisms by virtue of which the world is manifest.  The scientific world with all of its objective structures is a world that cannot be more immediate than the manifest world.  Accordingly, it is a world for us.  The manifest image of the world and the scientific image of it do not deal with the world as it is apart from human awareness, perception, conception and language. Simply put, the world bears the marks of that for whom it is a world.  

Kant, Fichte, Schelling and Hegel had theological aspirations, of course.  While much has been written about the the changed metaphysical climate after Kant, not as much has been written about the relevance of this changed climate for theology.  If we cannot know the supersensible world -- if the very notion of the supersensuous drives us beyond the bounds of all possible experience -- we cannot also know any regions of that supersensuous realm, e.g., theology.  Kant, of course, recognized this and claimed that he "had done away with knowledge of God to make room for faith." 

Kant had argued that the categories of substance and causality cannot apply to objects outside the realm of the phenomena.  This means, inter alia, that one cannot apply 'substance' or 'causality' to God.  God cannot be a substance bearing causal relations to other substances because there are no precepts being united to organize experience into one in which there are gods.  Gods do not exist in the phenomenal, and there are no metaphysical arguments showing conclusively that God must exist.  One might believe in the realm of the supersensible, but one cannot ever know those supersensible substances putatively causally connected to other supersensible entities or entities in the world.  

While knowing the external world occurs when we know the ways we have organized that external world -- when we know ourselves properly! -- knowing the supersensible world is not possible even though we are again thinking about our thinking.  Thinking about our thinking with regard to the phenomenal gives discrete knowable experience.  Thinking about our thinking with regard to the noumenal does not issue in any knowable experience, but rather can only put us in touch with our way of thinking.  Theology does not give experience, but it does constitute a way of thinking.  

So how must Christology proceed on the other side of Kant?  Given that we have no epistemic right to claim that we know the divine/human constitution -- nor the causality through which the divine person in Jesus of Nazereth effects salavation -- what do we do when doing theology and thinking our philosophy rightly?  What ought be the ways forward in Christology on the other side of Kant? What does theology become when its world is a world that is only for us?  

Since concepts are rules of possible syntheses, relating concepts in Christology must be a relating of ways in which such syntheses might relate to each other.  What can "two natures in one person" mean in the non-metaphysics of post-Kantian reflection?  After all, to speak of divine and human nature is to speak of that which lies beyond human experience.  Add the notion of 'person' to the mix and we are talking about the ordering of our ideas and not about the synthesis of experience.  Our ideas do not constitute experience, but they are important in how we must think aspects of our experience.  

Kant famously saw Christology as flowing from morality, and understood that human beings are unavoidably in the middle of moral life, even though moral life is not one of experience. There will be much more exploration of this in later posts, but for now we must continue our story beyond when the world was what is was for us to when the world turned ceased to be for us at all.  We must examine what happens when the world becomes worldless.  

III. Beyond the World as it was For Us

When the world was what it was, the world was in itself what it was.  The trajectory of thinking inaugurated by Kant gave a world no longer in itself, but a world now merely for us.  When the world was in itself, the world was known in its immediacy.  When the world became what it is for us, the world was known in its mediacy.  Both the in itself and the for itself of the world nonetheless presupposes that there was an immediacy to that by which the world is known in itself and for itself.  

Transcendental reflection that had dislodged the immediacy of the world nonetheless presupposed its immediate graspability. While Hegel increasingly realized that no Archimedean standpoint for transcendental reflection existed, his creative attempt to understand the various limited standpoints of transcendental reflection as manifestations of an unconditioned Absolute transcendental perspective that yet united the limited, conditioned, historically-mediated acts of transcendental reflection, kept at bay for a time the dawning realization that our acts of reflection are mediated as well, that is to say, there is no immediate access to ourselves.  Our putative privileged access to the contents of our own mind is a chimera.  While Descartes was often deluded about his access to the external world, we thinkers after Kant have been deluded about our access to our own thinking.  

The age that dawned after the age of the world as it is for us, is an age that increasingly took seriously that by virtue of which we thought we knew ourselves: it took seriously the language by and through which we thought we had found ourselves. This attention to language occurred both in the Anglo-American and the Continental expressions of philosophy, though in different ways.  The story here is complex and filled with surprising turns in trajectory.  Simply put, the twentieth century was an age that increasingly came to recognize that our capacities of self-representation are dependent upon others in surprising ways: our concepts, language and values are not our possessions by which we can objectively explore both the world and our own exploration of the world, but are themselves historically-conditioned social products.  

The words we use we did not create, and the concepts by which we think, we have learned from others -- mostly through the words that we did not create.  Every act of thinking employs concepts that have been bequeathed to us by tradition.  The days of thinking of language as a "tool kit" to grasp the objectivity of meaning are long gone.  We know too much.  Our so-called transcendental horizon is not the "unvarnished good news" that Quine once called the "myth of the given."  Just as there is no givenness to experience apart from our historically-conditioned conceptuality by and through which such experience arises, there is no givenness either to transcendental structures of reflection.  Transcendental reflection cannot escape the historicity of experience itself, a historicity that grasps the impossibility of reflecting objectively upon the conditions of reflection itself.  Just as "looks red" presupposes "is red" (Sellars), so does the apprehension of transcendental structures presuppose the conceptuality of such structures, a conceptuality given through language socially.  

Heidegger (1889-1976) famously uncovered the living and breathing ontology through and by which human beings make and live meaning.  We are creatures of meaning embedded within worlds of meaning that we did not construct. We who in our being ask the question of the meaning of being, necessarily ask the question within the historically messy process of the history of being.  Ultimately, Heidegger claimed, our takes on being are themselves a working out of be-ing as it is in and through our thinking.  But, for Heidegger, this Be-ing in its history is no Absolute that can in Hegelian fashion "take up" various understandings of be-ing and somehow come to itself deeply in its own thinking.  The history of Be-ing cannot be the God of the tradition of the Absolute of Hegel, this Be-ing in its history is nowhere and no place, and it cannot be accessed by itself.  It is deeply and necessarily so hidden that Heidegger in speaking it must use the language of "the last God."  

We live in the world beyond the world as it was for us.  This world is not in itself, not for itself, and definitely not in and for itself.  This world is, in fact, worldless.  It is a world suspicious of meta-narratives (Lyotard), of comprehensive attempts to find in the world discrete trajectories of rationality or progress.  

Once there was the a world that really was in itself.  After the death of this world, there was a self that really was in itself.  Post-modernity is the celebration of both the death of the world and the self, a celebration that must be in a certain sense ecstatic because there is no longer a self-possessed self through and by which the self can clearly conceive and pronounce its own death.   Our current time is an age where the screens have overwhelmed the capacity of either the world or the self to manifest themselves clearly upon them. We are without foundations; it is turtles all the way down.  

Living beyond the world in itself is difficult for theology.  God understood along the lines of world or self, could be a God that is still somehow understood.  But when the self lives ecstatically on the basis of concepts and language that are not its own, then there are no places any longer for God to lay His head.  After all, God is by definition incapable of ecstatic existence.  God cannot be carried along or constituted upon differential fields that somehow account for intermittent manifestations of identity.  If anything is, it would seem, God is.  There are no parts to God.  God is that identity by and through which all difference is ultimately understood.  

So what does one do with Christology in an age beyond the age of the world for us?  In our age where all immediacy is blocked, everything that seemingly is, is dependent upon something that it is not.  Just as the identity of the world turned out to be dependent upon that which is different from the world -- its putative transcendental structures -- and the identity of the self turned out to be dependent upon that which is different from the self -- the concepts and language of historically-conditioned social communities -- so too do our fleeting perspectives arising out of particular historically-conditioned social communities find a deeper difference out of which language and thought emerges, a difference that is Other than the historically-conditioned linguistically bequeathed by culture and tradition, a difference that must ultimately be Other than the world and all its putative foundations.  We are very close now to the beginnings of our tradition, a tradition claiming that out of nothing comes something.  

What is needed is to think Christology radically after not only the deconstruction of onto-theology (Heidegger), but the de-structuring itself of that deconstruction.  Thinking Christology beyond the phenomenological presencing that putatively once gave rise to onto-theology, is to bring into focus clearly the Abyss that is either unsupported and provides no support, or unsupported that provides support, or somehow itself supported.  What is Christ in such a situation, and what could a real ontic unity between Christ and the Christian be? But the development of these ideas must await another time.  What is needed is a Christology in a time when the world is not.