I have recently had some time to consider the fact that the historical definitions of the theological terms within a debate are not necessarily paramount on the mind of its participants. I don't mean to say that I have never been guilty of this negligence, but I would like to believe that in the past five years or so, as I have studied and strongly debated amongst friends the issue of Calvinism (more specifically—monergism versus synergism) I have developed a greater sensitivity to the importance of historical definitions in the taxonomy of theological distinctions. In his book, Getting the Gospel Right, R.C. Sproul has this to say, “Words are the key to knowledge. They are a form of the science of taxonomy or classification…The simple process of such classification, which is the root of all knowledge, is the process of noting similarities and differences.”
Taxonomy is contextually defined in the Sproul quote as the study of similarities and differences, and that is the differences between two or more words, and for our purpose it is the similarities and differences between two or more words/terms which symbolize (or describe) theological dogmas or concepts.
Words are like symbols, and on a “molecular” level they are in fact made up of the combination of smaller symbols—letters. Can you imagine a world of debate, instruction, or apologetic endeavors where the participants of that debate or the author of that polemic decided that the historical use of the symbols (or the letters) of the language in which he was writing were not so important, or worse—irrelevant? No one would understand what he trying to say; he would have to define (or redefine) every combination of symbols—terms—that he was trying to use to prove a point. That sounds absurd I know, but it is very much the same as what takes place when someone engages in a theological debate and is either ignorant of the historical theology that surrounds the issues or worse, he decides to disregard the proper historical use of those terms and import his own meaning, and this may be done for various reasons. One instance of this is provided in a book written by Norman Geisler called, Chosen But Free, wherein he labeled historic Calvinistic belief as “extreme” or “hyper” Calvinism, and took the classic five points of Calvinism and so redefined them as to appropriate their revised meanings and then he referred to himself as a “moderate Calvinist”. But in his fallacious process of equivocation, Geisler only co-opted the names of the five points to describe the same old, popular non-Calvinism in a different way; in an attempt to avoid what he referred to as “extreme” Calvinism and “extreme” Arminianism, he instead adopted another extremity—extremely fallacious argumentation.
I realize the example above is extreme in degree, but in the present American theological climate it is wide spread in its sort. In Geisler’s case, he was not only partly ignorant of the way Calvinism had been historically defined (or simply incapable of understanding how it had been described in the sources he chose to research) he also rejected that definition to serve whatever his motivations were. The point I am trying to make is that when one neglects or refuses to understand the historical categories and terms that surround a presently debated theological topic, or they do understand the historical theological issues but decide to ignore them, then they will inevitably commit the “straw man”, “red herring”, “equivocation”, and “false dilemma” fallacies, thus rendering their own arguments invalid.
As we employ the historical understandings of current theological debates (because we know that, even if one generation rejects heresy it does not mean that it will not be recycled by the next—though not all debates are between heresy and orthodoxy, sometimes there are intra-orthodox debates) we must be careful not to argue fallaciously ourselves; we must not make an “appeal to history” as a sole proof of orthodoxy because we know that the Word of God is our only authority in doctrine and practice, nor should we ignore the evolution of definitions, understanding that over time the meanings of words do have a tendency to change; we must differentiate between classical and current definitions of a word. But this evolution happens quite slowly and gradually, and one’s awareness of historical theology is not an option—it is imperative! Even so, there will always be those who, for whatever poorly examined reasons, wrongly reject history (particularly in the forms of creeds and confessions) in the defense of sola scriptura, and who opt for a “macro-evolutionary” or “inter-special” approach to the definition of terms over time.
Taxonomy is contextually defined in the Sproul quote as the study of similarities and differences, and that is the differences between two or more words, and for our purpose it is the similarities and differences between two or more words/terms which symbolize (or describe) theological dogmas or concepts.
Words are like symbols, and on a “molecular” level they are in fact made up of the combination of smaller symbols—letters. Can you imagine a world of debate, instruction, or apologetic endeavors where the participants of that debate or the author of that polemic decided that the historical use of the symbols (or the letters) of the language in which he was writing were not so important, or worse—irrelevant? No one would understand what he trying to say; he would have to define (or redefine) every combination of symbols—terms—that he was trying to use to prove a point. That sounds absurd I know, but it is very much the same as what takes place when someone engages in a theological debate and is either ignorant of the historical theology that surrounds the issues or worse, he decides to disregard the proper historical use of those terms and import his own meaning, and this may be done for various reasons. One instance of this is provided in a book written by Norman Geisler called, Chosen But Free, wherein he labeled historic Calvinistic belief as “extreme” or “hyper” Calvinism, and took the classic five points of Calvinism and so redefined them as to appropriate their revised meanings and then he referred to himself as a “moderate Calvinist”. But in his fallacious process of equivocation, Geisler only co-opted the names of the five points to describe the same old, popular non-Calvinism in a different way; in an attempt to avoid what he referred to as “extreme” Calvinism and “extreme” Arminianism, he instead adopted another extremity—extremely fallacious argumentation.
I realize the example above is extreme in degree, but in the present American theological climate it is wide spread in its sort. In Geisler’s case, he was not only partly ignorant of the way Calvinism had been historically defined (or simply incapable of understanding how it had been described in the sources he chose to research) he also rejected that definition to serve whatever his motivations were. The point I am trying to make is that when one neglects or refuses to understand the historical categories and terms that surround a presently debated theological topic, or they do understand the historical theological issues but decide to ignore them, then they will inevitably commit the “straw man”, “red herring”, “equivocation”, and “false dilemma” fallacies, thus rendering their own arguments invalid.
As we employ the historical understandings of current theological debates (because we know that, even if one generation rejects heresy it does not mean that it will not be recycled by the next—though not all debates are between heresy and orthodoxy, sometimes there are intra-orthodox debates) we must be careful not to argue fallaciously ourselves; we must not make an “appeal to history” as a sole proof of orthodoxy because we know that the Word of God is our only authority in doctrine and practice, nor should we ignore the evolution of definitions, understanding that over time the meanings of words do have a tendency to change; we must differentiate between classical and current definitions of a word. But this evolution happens quite slowly and gradually, and one’s awareness of historical theology is not an option—it is imperative! Even so, there will always be those who, for whatever poorly examined reasons, wrongly reject history (particularly in the forms of creeds and confessions) in the defense of sola scriptura, and who opt for a “macro-evolutionary” or “inter-special” approach to the definition of terms over time.
2 comments:
Right on. I only wish you would have expanded on the “straw man”, “red herring, “equivocation”,and “false dilemma”. Some of us aren't has familiar with these terms in rhetoric or logic... : )
Thanks Vinnie,
Great suggestion, I will do that in my next post.
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