Anthony Flood

Christianity and intelligibility, Part VI: Something about Mary

This continues a series of posts in which I engage Maverick Philosopher Bill Vallicella over my idea of philosophizing before and after Christ. (See Parts I, II, III, IV, V.)

Bill Vallicella asks me if Mariology (the doctrine of Mary, the mother of Jesus) is a part of the presuppositionalist “package deal,” that is, an essential element of the worldview that (I argue) uniquely makes intelligible predication possible.[1]

My answer is, yes, “some version of Mariology,” as Bill puts it, is derivable from an exegesis of Scripture, but not the Roman Catholic version that Bill tacitly presupposes.

That version was unknown to the writers of Scripture and the early Church Fathers. History knows of no writing alleging Mary’s “immaculate conception” (freedom from contracting Adam’s sin, “original sin”) until over a thousand years since Christ’s Ascension had passed. That’s when theologians could consider, and then reject, the musings of Eadmer, a 12^th-century monk who studied under Anselm (who denied Mary’s immaculate conception).[2]

Bernard of Clairvaux rejected the idea as a novum. He was joined in rejecting it (as inconsistent with the need for universal redemption in Christ) by Peter Lombard, Alexander of Hales, Bonaventure, Albert the Great, and Aquinas. The distinctive dogma that the Roman Catholic magisterium has since 1854 taught de fide (that is, as binding on all Catholics) forms no part of the Biblical worldview. Continue reading “Christianity and intelligibility, Part VI: Something about Mary”

Christianity and intelligibility, Part V: Worldview and the “eye of faith”

This continues the series in which I discuss Maverick Philosopher Bill Vallicella‘s critique of my idea of philosophizing before and after Christ. (See Parts I, II, III, IV.)

In Philosophy after Christ, I wrote:

The relationship of evidence of one thing to another depends on there being minds fitted with reliable cognition that can surmise and test that connection. What must the world include for evidentiary relationships to be possible?

We may not be certain whether A is evidence of B, but that things are in evidentiary relationships to each other is something about which we not only have no doubt but wouldn’t know how to doubt. Is that merely a brute psychological fact without further ground? For doubting expresses intellectual exigency, critical “demandingness,” a healthy fear of being duped; exercising that virtue makes no sense except in a world that is completely intelligible (formally, efficiently, materially, and finally).[1]

And that brings us, as every philosophical question must, to worldview.

Continue reading “Christianity and intelligibility, Part V: Worldview and the “eye of faith””

Truths the Republican Party no longer affirms or denies

Trump, with blood on his face, raises his fist triumphantly during a rally. I will vote for Donald J. Trump this November. When I did so in 2016 and again in 2020, I was (and am) an anarchocapitalist libertarian. That’s my utterly fallible but defensible political opinion for the Dispensation of Grace. I wish Ron Paul, who had a framed portrait of Murray Rothbard hanging in his congressional office, were running, but he’s not.

In 2015-2016, during the rise of anti-police mania in New York, I’d share this metaphor with anyone who’d listen: when I’m discussing, say, Austrian Business Cycle Theory (ABCT) with a friend in Starbucks, I want a big guy with a bat standing guard outside to protect the conversation. I’m now beginning to identify the possible spiritual costs of employing him. Continue reading “Truths the Republican Party no longer affirms or denies”

A letter from Herbert Aptheker

Yesterday a letter, dated October 1, 1992 (see a jpg and annotated transcription below), fell out of my diary for that year. In it, Herbert Aptheker, my former comrade and “boss,” said he “was delighted to hear” from me—17 years after I left the Communist Party, nine years after I had become a decidedly anti-Communist Rothbardian libertarian—and “should be delighted” to do so again. I hope my diaries will dissolve the “mystery” of my apparent “outreach.” He thought the Committees of Correspondence “will interest” me. He cites three of his books, underscoring their titles. This perfectly composed hand-written note is from a 77-year-old recovering from a stroke he had suffered exactly six months earlier.

Continue reading “A letter from Herbert Aptheker”

Christianity and intelligibility, Part IV: the atheist doesn’t have it made, even if he can fake sincerity

This post continues a series on Christianity and intelligibility (Parts I, II, and III) which focuses on Bill Vallicella’s criticisms of presuppositionalism, the position I share with (albeit at a great distance from) Greg L. Bahnsen and his teacher, Cornelius Van Til, whose distinctive approach to Christian apologetics Bill has been studying.[1]

As I’ve been arguing here (and in Philosophy after Christ), unless one presupposes the Bible’s worldview, one’s thinking—including the thinking informing the post under review and the counterexamples Bill adduces in it—reduces to absurdity. Why? Because non-Christian thinking is groundless—it floats in a void—and if it displays any cogency, it’s because it surreptitiously borrows from the biblical worldview. Continue reading “Christianity and intelligibility, Part IV: the atheist doesn’t have it made, even if he can fake sincerity”

Civilizational decline via institutional capture

In 1997 Gary North 2022 (1942-2022) produced a thousand-page study of one instance of such capture: Crossed Fingers: How the Liberals Captured the Presbyterian Church.[1] Its funding from humanists and other people we’d now call “globalists,” the coordination of subversive agents outside and inside the targeted institution, their ideological self-consciousness and discipline, are familiar to anyone aware of the accelerating corrosion of Western institutions.

North identified Modernism as the root ideological and spiritual perversion of our world. It was a nice ecumenical touch for the Calvinist (anti-Romanist) scholar to begin his book’s foreword by quoting the popular 20th champion of the Roman Catholic worldview, G. K. Chesterton:

Almost every contemporary proposal to bring freedom into the church is simply a proposal to bring tyranny into the world. For freeing the church now does not mean freeing it in all directions. It means freeing that peculiar set of dogmas called scientific, dogmas of monism, of pantheism, or of Arianism, or of necessity. And every one of these . . . can be shown to be the natural ally of oppression.[2]

Chesterton’s Orthodoxy was published in 1924, the year he joined the institution that had formally condemned Modernism as a heresy.[3] Continue reading “Civilizational decline via institutional capture”

Wé Ani: a protean multiplex of vocal performance

“I mean, there’s a lot of layers.” Wé Ani (before her American Idol performance of “Ain’t No Way” @0.38)

Imagine a ten-screen movie multiplex, each showing an Anthony Hopkins film. In one, he’s Nixon; in another, Hannibal Lecter; in a third, Zorro; fourth, Odin; fifth, C. S. Lewis; sixth, Pablo Picasso; seventh, John Quincy Adams; eighth, Alfred Hitchcock; ninth, Pope Benedict XVI; and on the tenth screen, Richard the Lionheart. Hopkins is their only commonality; each can make one forget the others (at least for a few hours). He’s all of these characters . . . and none of them.

Wé Ani is her performances’ only common thread: each “theater” in her audiovisual multiplex shows off a distinctive vocal texture into which no other intrudes and which often sets up an expectation that is (pleasantly) disappointed. Each performance also displays a unique dramatic persona.

Perhaps the better metaphor (although it’s by now a cliché) is: a palette of many colors.

If you compare several bars from each of, say, seven (randomly chosen) tracks, then unless you already know who’s singing, you may reasonably doubt that the singer on the first track is the one on the second (or any other). And that’s because of the vocal color she chooses for any song she interprets.

Every great singer has variability in range and textural quality but Frank Sinatra always sounds like Frank; Ella Fitzgerald, Ella; Stevie Wonder, Stevie. That’s what their fans expect. Not so with Wé, however: you may expect Aretha but get Nina; Etta but hear Whitney; and so forth. Continue reading “Wé Ani: a protean multiplex of vocal performance”

“The Annotated Napkin”: a memento of Murray

The napkin on which Murray Rothbard sketched for me a diagram of an aspect of the structure of production on July 1, 1986, now on display at the Ludwig von Mises Institute.

Among the books I donated two years ago to the Ludwig von Mises Institute in Auburn, Alabama was my copy of Egalitarianism as a Revolt against Nature (Libertarian Review Press, 1974) the one that its author, Murray Rothbard, had given to me almost thirty years ago when we went out for dinner at Argo Coffee Shop, located at 90^th Street and Broadway, Manhattan, just two blocks from his apartment building.[1] While elaborating on the intricate “latticework” (his metaphor) of a market economy’s production structure, he grabbed a napkin and diagrammed his insight on both sides of it.

Normally, a restaurant napkin wouldn’t last long, but this one had a different destiny. I tucked it inside my library’s newest acquisition, where it remained safe for 28 years until I sent it to Auburn.

Yesterday the Institute’s archivist made my day by sending me a photo of the napkin on display in a plexiglass case, noting that it’s “really enjoyed by our students and visitors.”) The exhibit label reads: “The Annotated Napkin, July 1, 1986, Murray N. Rothbard, Gift of Mr. Anthony Flood.”

Continue reading ““The Annotated Napkin”: a memento of Murray”

The anniversary of a foolish decision

Yours truly, Xavier Military Institute (High School) senior, 1971

The diary entry of a Xavier High School student[1] and research assistant to Herbert Aptheker[2] for May 25, 1971, reads:

Got over to 23 West 26th Street [headquarters of the Communist Party USA] about 6:45 [P.M.]. Whatta nice place![3] The meeting was on the third floor, where pictures of famous comrades and covers of magazines and pamphlets were displayed. Gus [Hall, General Secretary of the Party] answered questions very well. He described how the Party operates from top to bottom, about international relations. My questions concerned the time a college student needs to be an active member and about the 2 vouchers + age stipulations [minimum age, 18]. Rasheed [Storey, 1936-2016] and Gus were the vouchers and I was let in even though I[’m] still 17!!!! I really feel like a complete person. As Gus said to me, I’ll never regret it. I really have commitment and the enthusiasm and the vision. I’m proud of the Party. I want to make the Party proud of me.

May Day flashbacks: Memories of a Communist and working-class leader — Same year, 1971: Gus Hall, in hat (above “MU”), marching on Fifth Avenue in New York City [People’s World Archives]. I believe the bespectacled gent to Hall’s right is Arnold Johnson (1904-1989); James E. Jackson (1914-2007) is the second person to Hall’s left.

Three years and three months later, on September 18, 1974, I met fellow Aptheker research assistant (and non-communist historian) Hugh Murray for lunch; at six I’d meet my closest comrade and friend, who will remain unnamed “to discuss a great decision I feel I must make once and for all.” On September 23rd, still a Stalinist, I entrusted my resignation letter, addressed to the comrade who chaired the meetings, to the doorman of her building located at the southwest corner of Seventh Avenue and 14th Street. “Now I can relax and decide more clearly what I’m going to do with my life.”

To resign was a wiser decision than the one it negated, but it could not reverse the latter’s effects.

To be continued, as time permits.

Notes

[1] Two weeks later, on June 9th, I attended graduation at Hunter College, Lexington Avenue and 68^th Street. My diary entry for that day mentions my regret at having missed a lecture by James E. Jackson (1914-2007) at the Center for Marxist Education, located at 29 West 15^th Street. That building, now a co-op, abuts a 21st-century extension of my pre-Civil War alma mater.

[2] Anthony Flood, “Herbert Aptheker: Apothecary for a Red Teenager,” October 25, 2018.

[3] A holding of the John Jacob Astor (1763-1848) estate, the building has a storied past. See “The Astor Offices at Nos. 21 and 23 West 26th Street,” The Daytonian, Saturday, August 4, 2012. John Jacob Astor IV (1864–1912) was a passenger on the Titanic. His son, Vincent (1891-1959), “commissioned the architectural firm Peabody, Wilson & Brown to give No. 23 a neo-Federal facelift in 1922. Only two years later he sold the building for $30,000 to Frederick Vanderbilt Field (1905-2000), a Communist who wrote for the Daily Worker ….” Yes, a Vanderbilt. One of the most intriguing and revealing autobiographies I’ve ever read was his From Right to Left, Lawrence Hill Books, 1983.

Dispensationalism, diversity, and dialectic

Yesterday I referred to my dispensational eschatology, but then realized a note about it might be helpful. The following modifies a post from 2020.

I was not always dispensationally conscious, or even worldview-conscious. Becoming so required me to reorient and regiment my thinking, to trade in (or up) the pretension of human autonomy in philosophy for “heteronomy,” the “hetero” ( “other”) being God as He is revealed in Scripture.

Dispensationalism helps me situate myself not only historically between divine administrations (i.e., between the charismatic dispensation of which the Book of Acts is the history and God’s future manifest Kingdom on earth), but also dialectically among fellow believers who sees things very differently. We must stake out our positions knowing that others will contradict them, ever asking ourselves, “What could be said against what I believe?”

According my interpretation of Scripture, which I summarize tendentiously hereunder (but have defended in many other posts), Christian believers who have lived since the time marked by Acts 28:28 occupy the “parenthesis” between the “ear” stage of the Kingdom and its “full grain in the ear” stage (Mark 4:26-29), a regnum interruptum, if you will.

Bernard Lonergan thought that when we’re linked to each other by shared meaning, but opposed in our interpretations, our societies (families, churches, civil societies, parties) develop, not genetically, but dialectically. The goal of the dialectician, Lonergan writes, is neither to prove nor refute but rather

. . . to exhibit diversity and to point to the evidence for its roots. In this manner he will be attractive to those that appreciate full human authenticity and he will convince those that attain it. Indeed, the basic idea of the method we are trying to develop takes its stand on discovering what human authenticity is and showing how to appeal to it. It is not an infallible method, for men easily are unauthentic, but it is a powerful method, for man’s deepest need and most prized achievement is authenticity.[1]

Continue reading “Dispensationalism, diversity, and dialectic”