The Ocean of the Beautiful J. Prescott Johnson, Ph.D. Northwestern University Professor Emeritus of Philosophy Monmouth College (IL) Introduction The Symposium is a masterpiece of art that unveils and interprets the meaning of life. Even at the distance of...

Since my field is philosophy, and since, therefore, my meager knowledge of the Greeks is pretty well confined to that area, you would expect that I shall discuss my topic, “The Concept of Man in Greek Thought,” with major reference to philosophy. In this expectation you will not be disappointed. However, a philosophy emerges out of a general culture and, in its turn, exerts an influence upon that culture. Hence a discussion of our topic must, for the sake of adequacy, relate to broader phases of Greek culture.

In this first paper I wish to show how the Greek concept of man relates to the broader culture of the Greeks. In particular, I want to show how that concept defines a practice and theory of art and society. Man expresses himself and his nature in the creation of culture. Greek man did this and left his record and reflective thought in his architecture and sculpture, in his history and literature, in his religion and philosophy. This story and legacy is the theme of the present discussion, under the topic “Creativity and Culture.”

The previous discussion of the Greek concept of man was devoted to showing how man expresses his nature in his cultural creations, art and society. It was further pointed out that in a very real sense man transcends his creative enterprises. In those circumstances of societal decay, he is free to resist and overcome the determining conditions of that society and develop his essential humanity. He is able in turn to reconstitute society with his creative insight and energy. Man is the creative source and ground of culture, yet able to determine both his personal and social experience precisely because he is a substantive individual possessing his being in freedom. Thus in this lecture, “Individuality and Destiny,” I wish to consider man as a substantive individual whose free acts of self-creation secure for him a significant destiny.

I do not claim any expertise regarding the intricacies of finance. From the looks of things, I do not appear to be alone; in fact, those who profess such expertise and practice their “calling” are apparently undergoing a considerable lack of talent and concern.

The fluctuations in the markets are not a new phenomenon in American history. Notwithstanding the belief, widely held—until recently—that the disastrous downturns had been consigned to the dead past, that dead past has appeared to revive its effective life.

Too many of our people, I’m afraid, view events as occurring in a value-free context—a context in which social realities occur as but “natural” facts concerning which spiritual valuations have no part. Until we get beyond this concept and practice, we can expect little or no relief from our recurring predicament.

Some financier has said that “greed is good.” What is it good for? Quite evidently, it is good for the radical disturbance of economic and social welfare. We are pretty well agreeing that the greed of certain institutions to make a huge profit and the desire of people to have expensive homes when they cannot realistically afford them, are the root causes of our present situation.

In his first volume, Jesus: An Experiment in Christology, Schillebeeckx was concerned with the features of the “historical Jesus” which led to the New Testament confession of him. What is it which caused the early followers of Jesus to confess the finding of salvation in him‑‑in his teachings and practice of life? If we can ascertain this, Schillebeeckx in effect argues, then we may be able to locate that in the New Testament memoria of Jesus, reflecting a culture and modes of thought which are foreign to us today, which will enable us, with reinterpretation, to find Christian meaning in that early confession.

Apropos of this, Schillebeeckx insists that a recovery of the historical Jesus is absolutely necessary to a meaningful contemporary Christian faith. In contrast to what Bultmann had said, it does make a difference whether Jesus actually lived or not. The historical Jesus is necessary as the basis of the disciples’ encounter with him, their memory, and the statement of this memoria in the early church, and finally, of our contemporary experience of Christian salvation.

The key aspect of the historical Jesus, as the ground and expectation of salvation, is Jesus’ Abba experience of God as Father. This Abba experience is rooted in, comes out of, the Jewish tradition. As Schillebeeckx puts it:

The Great Apostle enjoins upon the Corinthians a cleansing from all defilement and a perfecting of holiness. He makes it clear that the cleansing is a crisis event in the lives of believers, while the perfecting of holiness is a continuing process that is founded upon that crisis. The English term cleanse is, in the Greek, the hortatory aorist subjunctive καθαρίσωμεv, katharis_men: “let us cleanse.” It is in the aorist tense and as such denotes a crisis event. The English term perfecting is in the original text the present tense participle _πιτελo_vτες, epitelountes. Since the tense is the present, the perfecting denotes an on-going process. And the strict sequence of the tenses, first the aorist and secondly the present, unmistakably defines the order: first the crisis experience of sanctification and then the continuing life-experience of progress in Christian grace.

Now, while in the sequel some further attention will be given to the subject of consequence as a factor in the experience of Christian perfection, the primary concern of this article is that of the crisis character of sanctification.

The genius of the Wesleyan understanding of the doctrine of entire sanctification is its clear and unmistakable insistence that the experience is a crisis experience that is available to the children of God in this life. Herein lies the marked contrast with the view of the Protestant Reformers, who taught that sanctification is but a developmental, never completed, process.

Referring to hymns published in 1749, Wesley writes:

The text that this article considers, “For by one offering he hath perfected forever them that are sanctified,” is the crown jewel of the Epistle to the Hebrews. The verse encapsulates in a brief sentence the major themes of the Epistle, and does so by specifying three actions of Deity.

The article is a discussion of these three actions, which are: (1) the action of offering, (2) the action of perfecting, and (3) the action of sanctifying. Special attention is given, as these actions are considered severally, to the organic inter-relationship which they sustain.

The article concludes by indicating the bearing of the text on Wesleyanism.

For by one offering he hath perfected for ever them that are sanctified.

This document has been created by employing and editing, with selection and rephrasing, the original language of the book, In The Days of His Flesh, to make it more accessible to contemporary readers.

Chapter 1

The Wondrous Birth

St. Paul equally affirms the pre-existence of Jesus. Affirmed a generation after the death of Jesus. Many who knew him still survived. Jesus himself advanced the claim of his pre-existence.

His birth unique. His name is the same as Joshua (Jehovah is salvation). A month later went to Jerusalem for the offering of purification. Simeon blesses Jesus. Wizards from the East worship him. Herod seeks to destroy the child. His parents take their child to Egypt.

Jesus was born betwixt April & October.

This work is an argument for the reality of perfection. There are two phases of the argument.

First, there is an analysis of ethical perfectionism, or self-realization. There is some introductory historical material. The main thrust of the argument is to delineate the nature of ethical self-realization. This is done by discussion of two recent ethicists of the school, namely, the British idealists T. H. Green and F. H. Bradley. It is shown that ethical perfectionism involves a self-contradiction that disables it to realize its own imperative, and that, therefore, it must give way to the religious, specifically, the Wesleyan view of evangelical perfection.

The second phase of the argument comprises three rubrics: the consciousness of God, the condition of sinfulness, and the perfection of experience. The primary consciousness of God is not determined by intellectualist, logical norms, but is a valuational-laden emotional apprehension of radiance from perfection. Sin involves more than the “bad self” of ethics; it involves reference to God. Sinfulness must be conceived, not in substantive terms, but in functional terms. It is the inherited inorganic condition of the individual. The perfection of experience consists in two factors: sanctification and the perfection of love. Holy love is productive of the ever-enriching process of organic personhood, or, in Wesley’s language, “a constellation of glorious graces.”

As these topics are developed, attention is given to the writings of Wesley and, further, to certain philosophical elements that coalesce to affirm the validity of evangelical Wesleyanism.

Pyamidal Schema   1          (Ex) 2          (Ey) . (Ez) ; y .-z . z.-y Etc.

I shall preface this discussion of the valuational significance of Plato’s doctrine of Ideas by making two illusions, one from the ancient world and the other from the modern world.

In southern France, at Lascaux, there is a vast multi-chambered grotto, a cathedral of hunting magic, which has been termed “the Sistine chapel of the Paleolithic.” On its domed ceilings and rough walls are animal scenes that transform the grotto into the vision of a teeming hunting ground. For a hunting people whose existence depended upon the continuity of those animals in whose death they themselves lived, this stone age cathedral is, perhaps, a mythical symbolism of the endurance and continuity of those animal species‑-indeed, a magic which assured that durable continuity.

In Science and the Modern World, the chapter entitled “The Romantic Reaction,” Whitehead makes reference to the poet Wordsworth:

It is the brooding presence of the hills which haunts him. His theme is nature in solido, that is to say, he dwells on that mysterious presence of surrounding things, which imposes itself on any separate element that we set up as an individual for its own sake. He always grasps the whole of nature as involved in the tonality of the particular instance.

There is complexity in the nature of God. As eternally self-existent, he is absolute in his self-isolation, devoid of all relations. He is independent of all others, those who exist contingently and not necessarily.

God’s relative nature is his knowledge of and concern with the world, including his care for the people of the world.

God’s perfected actuality is that of everlasting unity of the redeemed, in which the redeemed are one everlastingly, without any loss of individuality or completeness of unity.

The fourth phase is God’s saving work in the world. It is the phase of “superjectivity.” In the language of the English-American philosopher Alfred North Whitehead (1861-1947):

I wish to begin this discussion by reference to an incident which occurs in Euripides Iphegenia in Tauris. The heroine is at Tauris, far from her home in Argos, serving as High Priestess in the temple of Artemis. she is the lost loved one, awaiting recognition, redemption, and restoration. The day comes when she is found by Orestes, her brother, and placed on the ship which is to carry her to her home and the fulfillment of her dreams and hopes. But these‑-indeed her very humanity‑-are threatened by Thoas, King of Tauris, who is furious at the impending loss of the High Priestess and the brutalized form of religious rite which she is constrained to serve. He therefore commands that the ship and those on board be destroyed. The issue which has now emerged between the impulsions and affinities of human nature and a perverted religious institution[1] is resolved when Athena appears and commands Thoas to desist from his designs and permit the Greeks to return to their homeland. He accepts his fate, with the rueful expression:

The article addresses the subject of the nature of Christian redemption, with special reference to the contrast to redemption as conceived in terms of myth.

The contrast is developed, first, with respect to the contrast between existence and significance. Some attention is given to certain mythic formulations and rituals developed, in the ancient world, which were constitutive of pagan redemption. The argument is that these proposals always and invariably keep the content of their systems anchored in the existing world of the sensuous given. The intuitive content of the sensuous given is thought to be itself endowed with redemptive efficacy. It is for this reason that myth must be distinguished from religion. It lacks the spiritual significance that is the defining essence of religion. Attention is then given to certain of the significant symbols of the Christian faith, showing that, while these symbols take the intuitive given as their point of departure, they then proceed farther and denote that which is spiritual. That is, they take on the significance that is of the nature of religion.

This article is a consideration of the spiritual basis of society. First, attention is given to the question of the relation between Church and State in our early American history. Jefferson’s critical response to the claims of a biblical commonwealth and, further, his positive view of the spiritual foundations of society are considered in some detail. His individualistic and utilitarian presuppositions, shared to considerable extent by seventeenth century and eighteenth century European political thought, is appraised critically. Second, a concept of spirituality, which emphasizes self-awareness in the focus of social cohesion, is set forth. It is argued that such a concept of spirituality provides the conditions of community without the negative affects of imposed religious belief.

If Jesus was a prophet and no more, there is no difficulty; no one would defend the Virgin Birth on these terms. The question becomes an issue only when Jesus is believed to be more than a man. The Gospel of Luke affirms that very belief:

And behold, thou shalt conceive in thy womb, and bring forth a son, and shalt call his name Jesus. He shall be great, and shall be called the Son of the Highest, and the Lord God shall give unto him the throne of his father David: And he shall reign over the house of Jacob for ever, and of his kingdom there shall be no end (Luke 1:31-33).

In responding to a question it is necessary to understand the nature of the question, and, further, to consider the nature of the terms in which an answer may be given. Failure to proceed properly at this point eliminates the possibility of a cogent and sound resolution of the question.

The present question, “What is value?” is one whose nature and whose terms available for its resolution are quite generally misunderstood. Thus, the purpose of this article is to clarify the nature of the question and to consider the further question of the terms of its resolution. The outcome of this article is largely negative, in that it is addressed to the removal of certain misunderstandings in the regards mentioned above.

With respect, first of all, to the nature of the question, the question, “What is value?” is a categorial question rather than a particular question. That is, the question concerns the meaning of the category of value qua value in distinction to the particular things which may or may not be valuable. The question, then, “What is value?” is distinguished from, must not be confused with, the question, “What things are valuable?”

While there are no explicit divisions of the article, there are three relatively distinct subjects of consideration.

The first part is a critical discussion of the three major classical theories of the Atonement: the governmental theory, the moral influence theory, and the satisfaction theory.

The middle portion of the article considers certain scriptural passages that employ the three major families of terms used to set forth the nature of the atonement.

The final portion of the article is a philosophical excursus, centering around Rom. 3:25-26. There is a consideration of the nature of life and death, as it pertains to humans and, particularly, to Jesus Christ. The discussion concerns the question of the significance of Jesus’ death as having atoning efficacy.

In the springtime of impressionable youth, I lived with my family in southwestern Oregon, where we attended a small church whose members were committed to the perfectionist persuasion that had emerged from the American Wesleyan movement. On the wall just behind the platform was a lovely banner, painted by my artistic father, which carried the words of the Psalmist, “O worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness.” Those words, so beautifully inscribed, remain yet in my deepest consciousness and impel me in the effort better to understand and appreciate their meaning in a day so far removed from an earlier time in my religious life.

The expression, “the beauty of holiness,” occurs in several places in the Psalms, as well as in the Chronicles. These latter works, drawn from the Psalms, paint a picture of the past as a way of conveying an Hebraic philosophy of history. But the original inspiration of the expression is found peculiarly in the Psalms.

As a young man, Plato witnessed the collapse of Athens at the end of the Peloponnesian War (404-03 B.C.). Among the oligarchical usurpers governing Athens were relatives of Plato, who urged him to enter public life under their auspices. However, when he saw the corruption of the oligarchy, he declined the overture. The restored democracy was not an improvement in government, for it too was incompetent and corrupt. And it condemned “our comrade Socrates” to death on the absurd charge of impiety, an event that caused Plato to abandon any political aspiration.

For a young man whose family was distinguished in the Athens of the Periclean age, the decision to forego a political career was a fateful one. The ambition of every such young man, of Alcibiades in the dialogue of the same name, was “to become a leading man in the city.” The fate of Socrates, which symbolized for Plato the disintegration of Athens, caused him to realize that the old institutions could not be patched up, that what was needed was a radical remaking of man. Without making man “virtuous,” it was impossible to conceive of “virtue,” or Arete, in the city, or the Polis.

Modern value inquiry took its rise in Germany and Austria during the last quarter of the nineteenth century and the early years of the present century. The discussions in which the inquiry engaged centered around the antithesis of fact and value. Accordingly, my purpose here is to elicit the structure of that discussion so as to indicate the directions which the discussion took.

In the tradition, the value question stood before the forum of metaphys­ics, and this because the principle of end, or telos, was espoused as the principle of explanation. With the advent of the genetic principle, according to which things are understood in causal terms, the value question was brought to the forum of empirical science. To be sure, this change took considerable time. The genetic principle was first applied to the physical world, with the result that value was extruded from nature. The world of Newtonian physics tended to become a value-free world void of ends and purposes. While Kant accepted Newtonian physics and provided a justification for it, nevertheless the larger burden of his thought was the retention of values in the world. In all of his works, even in the First Critique, there are considerations of value which are directed to this end. The only observation that I have time to make here is this: that Kant was able, in his terms, to retain value within and alongside the world of nature because he refused to apply the genetic principle to man himself. On the contrary, mind is a value-laden being, possessed of a dignity and excellence untouched by the genetic principle. Man is thus the fulcrum which secures value in what otherwise must be a value-free world. It remained for Darwin to extend the genetic principle from physical nature to life, thereby opening its further application to mind and its conventions. Under the aegis of this way of thinking, the first and foremost condition of the origin and development of values lies in human desires and feelings, and ultimately in the impulses, interests, and tendencies which they presuppose. And the value ideas and judgments merely describe the conditions of their emergence and development in consciousness and function as instru­ments in the service of natural life and existence. They do not sustain any objective import bearing upon a metaphysical order of value and man’s relation to that order. All this, for example, Nietzsche saw, and saw consistently.