Christian Individualism and Dialectic, Part 1: A Daunting Task Beckons

[Also on Substack.] The daunting task arises out of my return to philosophy as the launch of my Christian Individualism: The Maverick Biblical Workmanship of Otis Q. Sellers approaches. The book’s not out yet, but I must begin to consider what I will focus on once it is.

I’m returning to philosophy, not to try to solve its problems, but rather to identify the problem that all writers, trained in philosophy or not, face as soon as they affirm or deny anything of substance, namely, the problem of diversity in philosophy.

I call this the problem, or rather “metaproblem,” of dialectic. A writer can evade it, of course, but not integrally. To address the metaproblem, I’ll need a metaphilosophy, which seeks to solve not traditional philosophical problems, but rather the problem of philosophy (or theology) itself, the problem that attaches to the maddening array of choices these fields present to the inquirer.

I will be testing the foundation laid out in Philosophy after Christ: Thinking God’s Thoughts after Him and more doctrinally articulated in my new book, cited above.

The foundation for this daunting task is, as I hope you might expect, Christ as He’s revealed in His Word as His Spirit has illuminated it for me with the help of those in whom He’s similarly worked.

You cannot, however, predict from generic information about me how I will approach the problem of dialectic. There will be nothing cookie-cutter or off-the-shelf about it. I promise not to make your eyes glaze over by intoning “thesis, antithesis, synthesis.” Do not overlook the material, some written by me, referenced in the notes. They will prove useful for future installments of this series.

Gotta Start Somewhere: My Connection to the Question

Dialectic may be a neat (maybe too neat) classical term for disagreement. In reality, it refers to the messy (to use no stronger word) reality of ideological strife that arises from our (more or less responsible) striving for the truth, both with those with whom we agree and against those who oppose us.

A friend with whom we agree on important issues comes to disagree on one or more issues in a few years, or sooner. A cloud no bigger than a man’s hand now darkens our skies. There’s a “falling out,” or worse. History and biography are replete with examples.

Synchronically, that is, in a “snapshot” of time, harmony may reign among certain individuals, even a passionate “to-the-barricades” unity, but over time, that is, diachronically, disharmony arises. The whole fissures. Changes in consciousness lead to new commitments, alliances, or harmonies, some of them perhaps with former adversaries. The diachronic aspect of dialectic, subject to our responsibility (or irresponsibility) to the historical record, complicates things.

Then there is the ethical dimension, which includes our attitude toward our dialectical adversary, about which the Bible has much to say. Thus, “daunting.”

This metaproblem is not humanly soluble. The solution requires omniscience, and none of us qualifies. The One Who does will resolve it on His timetable.

Dialectical strife is a feature, not a bug, of our fallen state. All of us engage in and contribute to dialectic. That is, we provide new data for every phase of it, and bear its marks on our souls (and sometimes our bodies). But rarely does it arise in our consciousness as a problem, that is, as the metaproblem it is. That’s what I’ve undertaken to focus on in the time remaining.[1]

The fact of disagreement (philosophical, scientific, religious) impressed itself upon my teenage mind before I began to reflect on what it means for how we negotiate our intellectual business. If the reader will permit an autobiographical note: dialectic first arose for me as a topic within Marxist philosophy and Communist politics. My introduction to dialectics was not so much Plato’s Dialogues as British Communist Maurice Cornforth’s Dialectical Materialism. It was my reception of the Marxist tradition, itself downstream from post-Enlightenment culture. I was trying to figure out where I could plant my mind’s Paramedian feet in history’s Heraclitean flux. I chose poorly. By God’s grace, I lived to choose better.

My first academic article was on Jürgen Habermas’s critique of Marxism, which was about whether the latter materialist philosophy, however charitably interpreted, could account for the criticism on which it prides itself.[2] In an unpublished graduate school paper (available only on my old site), I wondered aloud about the significance of philosophical disagreement for the practice of philosophy, problematic if this metaproblem risks immobilizing one’s thinking.[3]

Image result for rescher the strife of systemsI read everything I could on the problem, my hopes buoyed for a while by Nicholas Rescher’s The Strife of Systems[4]and Lonergan’s location of the source of the problem in the polymorphism of human consciousness.[5]

In this series of articles, whose end I cannot foresee, I will evaluate these and other works.

 

In the background (or under the floorboards) of this series: Scripture

Consistent with my presuppositions,[6] I ask what God’s Word says about dialectical strife. Not just any old garden-variety disagreement, but the kind that tends to undermine not only Christian unity, but also confidence in God’s providence that foreordained every chapter of the history of strife.

The Greek verb dialegomai (διαλέγομαι)—the cognate of dialegein—appears 13 times in the New Testament, frequently in the Book of Acts, meaning to discuss, dispute, or reason. It is specifically used to describe Paul’s method of preaching and reasoning in synagogues and public forums, which involved interactive, back-and-forth exchanges rather than one-way sermons. This reflects the tradition where rabbis engaged in vigorous discussion and debate over the interpretation of Scripture. Consider these occurrences in the New Testament:

    • “And Paul went in, as was his custom, and on three sabbath days he reasoned (dielexato) with [and against!] them from the Scriptures.” (Acts 17:2)
    • “So he reasoned (dielegeto) in the synagogue with [and against!] the Jews . . .” (Acts 17:17)
    • ” . . . Paul talked (dielegeto) with them, intending to depart on the next day . . ” (Acts 20:7)

Although the Greek verb dialegein (διαλέγειν) does not appear in the New Testament in its active form, its middle-passive form, dialegomai (διαλέγομαι), does and frequently (13 times). It is often used to describe Apostle Paul’s method of teaching, which involved reasoning, discussing, or arguing with and against others.[7]

Several words derived from the same root appear in the New Testament:

    • Dialektos (διάλεκτος), six times, mainly in Acts (e.g., 2:6, 2:8, 21:40), referring to the “language” or “dialect” spoken by a group.
    • Dialogismos (διαλογισμός), 14 times, referring to “reasoning,” “thought,” or “dispute,” often with a negative connotation, such as the “evil thoughts” in Matthew 15:19 or the frowned-upon “disputing” in Philippians 2:14.
    • Dialogizomai (διαλογίζομαι), 16 times, meaning “to reason,” “deliberate,” or “ponder” within oneself, e.g., the Pharisees “reasoned” in their hearts (Mark 2:6).
    • Dialegomai (διαλέγομαι) relates doctrine to practice. In Hebrews 12:5, the divine “dialogue” cites Proverbs 3:11-12, thereby framing the suffering of believers as a “dialogue” (dialegomai), where doctrinal truths about divine sonship are applied to practical endurance. Believers are not to interpret trials not as rejection, but rather as necessary divine discipline and love.

No single Hebrew word is the equivalent of dialegomai (διαλέγομαι), but several Hebrew terms capture its core meanings of reasoning, discussing, and disputing. Lexicons and scholarly discussions identify the following Hebrew words as conceptual equivalents based on how dialegomai is used in the New Testament:

    • Yakach (יָכַח): This is often cited as the primary equivalent. It means to argue, reason, or decide, e.g., “Come now, and let us reason (yakach) together.” Isaiah 1:18:
    • Dabar (דָּבַר): The Septuagint (Greek translation of the Old Testament) uses dialegomaito to translate the Piel form of dabar, e.g., Isaiah 63:1, where it carries the sense of speaking with authority or purpose.
    • Rib (רִיב): This term refers to a legal dispute, controversy, or contention. We find a form of κρίνω translating רִיב in the Septuagint version of Judges 8:1 to describe the men of Ephraim contending sharply with Gideon.
    • Chashab (חָשַׁב): This conveys the idea of internal calculation or pondering, the mingling of thought with thought, which lines up with the original Homeric sense of dialegomai.

These data are sufficient not only to establish the fact and the value of rational disputation in God’s Word, but also alert us to the guardrails that the Word says must regulate our conduct.

Let the journey begin.

Notes

[1] I’m not particularly interested in Neo-Orthodox “dialectical theology” with its lukewarm, neither fish nor fowl posture toward Scripture. Jesus’ view of it is the only one to which I’m interested in conforming my mind, so please do not send me reading recommendations along Barthian, Brunnerian, or Bonhoefferian lines. My topic is the epistemology of disagreement in biblical theology as the Christian Individual finds himself forced to practice it, more or less self-consciously, in this Dispensation of Grace, that is, not only in tension with non-believers, but also with fellow believers, and even with himself or herself.

[2] Tony Flood, “Jurgen [sic; Jürgen] Habermas’s Critique of Marxism,” Science & Society, 41:4, Winter 1977-1978, 448-64.

[3] Anthony Flood, “Philosophic Diversity and Skeptical Possibility: A Confrontation with Hegel,” 1978.

[4] Nicolas Rescher, The Strife of Systems: An Essay on the Grounds and Implications of Philosophical Diversity, University of Pittsburgh Press, 1985.

[5] Anthony Flood, “Bernard Lonergan’s insight into philosophical diversity: the variable of personal development,” AnthonyGFlood.com, November 27, 2024.

[6] Anthony Flood, “God: ‘behind the scenes’ (or ‘under the floorboards’) of every argument,” AnthonyGFlood.com, December 12, 2018.

[7] E.g., Acts 17:2, 17: Paul “reasoned” with [and against!] those in the synagogue and the marketplace; Acts 18:4, 19: He “reasoned” with [and against!] Jews and Greeks in Ephesus and Corinth; Acts 19:8-9: Paul spent months “reasoning” and “persuading” people at Tyrannus’s lecture hall; Acts 20:7, 9: Paul “talked” or “discoursed” with believers at Troas until midnight; Acts 24:12, 25. The word is also used to describe Paul “reasoning” about righteousness and judgment: Mark 9:34: the disciples had “disputed” among themselves about who was the greatest; Hebrews 12:5 refers to a divine “exhortation” or “address”; Jude 1:9: describes the archangel Michael “disputing” with the devil over Moses’ body, but Sellers argues that the meaning there is soma in the sense of Christ’s “substance,” not posthumous physical remains:

At first, he [Moses] was alone in this [the office of judge], the only man in Israel with an official position out of God. However, this changed, and in Exodus 18:18-24 we read of an arrangement, made at the suggestion of Jethro, that added about 80,000 men to the judges in Israel. This configuration, even though approved by God, still left too heavy a burden upon Moses, and at his complaint, God arranged to ease the burden (Numbers 11:10-15). These seventy men are actually called ekklēsia in Acts 7:38, and are referred to as the body of Moses [Μωϋσέως σώματος, Mōuseōs sōmatos] in Jude 1:9.” Otis Q. Sellers, “Ekklēsia Men,” Seed & Bread, No. 115; ND, but late ‘70s. Emphasis added.

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