Wow.

I’d like to hear him explain the Trinity to the satisfaction of his own standard…

Well, presumably he would hold that the Trinity can be explained without contradiction however short such an explanation falls of comprehension.

That’s sort of my point– that attitude towards the Trinity (i.e. “It works out in some inexpressible/incomprehensible way”) is pretty much the same thing Whittman is saying…

Well, not precisely. Whitman is saying: “Contradictions? No problem.” In the case of the Trinity, it would be a rather different “Not fully comprehensible? No problem.”

But theologically speaking, you’re not going to find much of anyone who is orthodox (with respect to the Trinity) who would be willing to say there is an inherent contradiction. Inexplicable, yes. Contradictory, no.

I guess I sorta take “inexplicable” to be code for “it’s a contradiction but I can’t call it that and still be orthodox.” I really don’t see a functional difference between the two. (And I’m ok with that– my take on the early creeds is that they try their hardest to make it impossible to resolve…)

The Trinity is presumably reconcilable with some sort of higher-order logic; I’ve always taken Whitman to be saying, “I’m not really able to reconcile all of my various thoughts and desires, and I’m ok with that (i.e. I don’t understand myself).” But I’ve never read the rest of the poem this is part of, so it’s quite possible I’m wrong.

So, as a summary, the Trinity works out in some way we don’t understand; Whitman’s personality works out in some way he doesn’t understand.

You’re getting at what I was thinking with respect to Whitman. To say that there are contradictions in one’s self is not necessarily to deny unity of personality, but to say one does not know how it coheres. (However, there are post-modern takes on personality that deny any unity of personality, which would like to read a statement like this at face value). “Our” way of reading Whitman does tend to take “contradiction” in terms of “not really a contradiction, but I don’t know how to resolve it”. Joe Carter’s post defined it (implicitly) as “something I know can never be reconciled”, which in the domain of logic, makes sense.

Re: Trinity and creeds, I don’t think I’d agree with “inexplicable is code for contradiction” in the logical sense, but I might be open to it in a carefully defined “don’t yet know how to resolve it” sense. Yet, a better– less potentially misleading, because some will take the word contradiction in the logical sense (”will never be reconciled”)–way of putting it is to say that the doctrine of Trinity contains a mystery (how one being can exist in three persons): we don’t know how to explain it. Does it apparently contradict (even in the sense you and I have been using)? I don’t think so.

I guess my hesitance about applying “contradiction” to Trinity shows why Joe might have been allergic to Whitman’s statement. However, my point was that Whitman, proceeding in a poetic domain may not be under the same logical restrictions one ought to expect in the philosophical (and theological) domains.

I think in the theological domain, greater precision is required. Creeds are actually very precise in terms of the boundary between what they are affirming and what they are denying. They draw clear boundary lines. At times, though, they are not (cannot be) clear in an explanatory sense, within the boundaries: we know what is within the boundary (i.e., “Christ is fully God and fully man”), but we don’t understand it. So, clarity of demarcation, but not of explanation. But hopefully not apparent contradictoriness of explanation, because then the person being asked to affirm a creed is being asked to have faith in something *apparently* unreasonable.

In any case, all of this is an excellent little test-drive of the complexity of theological language.

I generally use “contradiction” in the non-technical sense (I’d be surprised if more than 10% of the population even knows that there IS a technical sense). The creeds seem to say that the three persons are identical in quite meaningful ways and yet also separate in (very similar if not the same) meaningful ways. I do not see how this is possible without modifying the normal laws of logic, so I am perfectly happy to call it contradictory.

Now, I assume that with some immensely deep understanding of the Trinity (and perfect knowledge of the workings of the universe in which we construct the concept of logic) this contradiction can be resolved (which would technically make it a paradox)– however, I still think the label of contradiction is applicable because I don’t think that level of understanding is possible to us humans in our current state. (IOW, I think I’m basically agreeing with you)

This is exactly the sense in which I understand Whitman’s lines (though of course his internal state is probably a little simpler than that of the Trinity)– you could say that I understand the Trinity in a poetic fashion. This is why this was the first thing that popped into my head– if someone can understand the Trinity and not get Whitman here, then something is wrong somewhere (quite possibly in my head).

But– is the Trinity a science experiment? Do we do poetry in test-tubes? I look at Christianity more as a big painting than a book of geometry proofs, so…

Glad you’re back to blogging

I do not believe contradictory statements can at once be both true. My own partial understandings of things, however, frequently are expressed as contradictions. If someone were to record everything I say (and even worse beliefs I express through what I do) they would easily find things about me that are contradictory. How can I be so certain of this? Because I am very aware of some of the contradictions. Some of these beliefs I have sought rigorously to resolve and found I am incapable of doing so. What am I to do?

Things that are both large and deep, or rather, most things that are large that I have tried to think deeply about, I find to be “messy” at their core. Life is so complex. It is only the simple that resort to platitudes and declare, “it is all logical, and I could explain it to you if you like.” I find myself usually agreeing with the proverbs, “The first to present his case seems right, till another comes forward and questions him.” So what am I to do in the face of “multitudes within me” that I cannot resolve?

For me, I have had to come to grips with this smallness in me. I am at peace with it. When questioned, I sometimes defend myself, I sometimes humbly admit ignorance. I still try to search for answers, but not as if my life depended on it. Some things just aren’t as important to me as others.

For Whitman’s part I think he is (effectively) challenging us all to face the multiplicity within ourselves because of our finiteness. (We are finite but large.) Poetry often causes us to ask questions rather than gives us the answers. Is one large or small if he holds conflicting ideas as true? Can you be at peace with that? How do we honestly express the things we hold as true? These are good questions.

In the words of Laurel and Hardy, “I grasp it; it just keeps slipping out of my hands.”

To take these lines of Whitman and thereby ascribe to him such simplicity as believing things are contradictory in their core is an astounding level of simple thinking.

Brad: yes.