Tuesday, February 6, 2018

Pope Benedict XIII Extolls the Virtues of the Doctrines of Grace of St. Augustine and St. Thomas Aquinas

When Pope Clement XI published the bull Unigenitus in 1713, condemning the Jansenistic views of Pasquier Quesnel, there were some who were concerned that the Pope was condemning, by implication, the views on grace and free will of St. Augustine and St. Thomas Aquinas and of the Augustinian and Thomistic schools of Catholic thought.  This was understandable, because it is not always easy to distinguish Jansenist views from Augustinian/Thomistic views.  The differences can be difficult to detect due to complexities of language and other things.  (I talk about some of these difficulties in my article on Jansenism.)  But the popes had repeatedly reaffirmed their approbation of the doctrines of St. Augustine and St. Thomas and of the Catholic schools of thought named after them.

I came across recently a quotation from Pope Benedict the XIII in a brief he addressed to the Dominicans in, I think, 1723, once again reassuring them on this point.  The quotation illustrates the high regard the Church has for the doctrines of grace of St. Augustine and St. Thomas:

It is not surprising . . .that you should take amiss the malicious assertion which has been made, that Clement XI., in condemning the errors specified in his bull Unigenitus, designed in any sense whatever to attack the doctrine of St. Augustine and St. Thomas, or sought to diminish your reputation by subjecting the principal articles of your belief to the censures denounced in the said Constitution. I applaud your sensitiveness in this matter, and recognise you thereby as the true children of St. Thomas. In the whole of this affair your cause has never been separated from that of the Holy See; far from pitying you, I consider it highly to your honour to be identified with the Angelic Doctor, and to witness in your own persons that the agreement of his doctrine with the Divine oracles and the Apostolic decrees has not sufficed to restrain the unbridled license of these calumniators. It is strange that such insinuations should have been made, since the errors in question are distinctly condemned by the teaching of St. Thomas; and it has so happened, by a remarkable Providence, that his writings have been the means of overthrowing numberless forms of heresy which have arisen in the Church. I exhort you then to despise the slanders which it is attempted to propagate against your dogmas of grace efficacious by itself and of gratuitous predestination to glory without any prevision of merits, derived as they are from the works of St. Augustine and St. Thomas, from the word of God, from the decrees of Councils, and from the authority of the Fathers. We forbid, under canonical penalties, all persons whatsoever to give currency to such calumnies or spread such rumours. Continue to regulate yourselves by the teaching of our celebrated Doctor, which is more luminous than the day, and contains no alloy of error. Maintain and defend it with all vigour, inasmuch as it is the rule of Christian doctrine, and contains nothing but the pure verities of our holy religion. I announce this to you in order to dispel your fears, and to prove to you our deep interest in your welfare. This indeed is the least that we can do, having embraced your statutes, and made our profession of religion in your illustrious Order, from which Providence has now raised us to undertake the government of the Church.  (From The Gallican Church: A History of the Church of France, Volume 2, by Rev. W. Henley Jervis [London: John Murray, Albemarle Street, 1872], 254-255)

For more, see here.

Published on the feast of St. Paul Miki and Companions.

The Uncaring Impartial Spectator: A Theistic Response to Austin Dacey's Naturalistic Consequentialist Ethics

This is a paper I wrote back in 2008.

THE UNCARING IMPARTIAL SPECTATOR: A THEISTIC RESPONSE TO AUSTIN DACEY’S NATURALISTIC CONSEQUENTIALIST ETHICS

In his recently published book, The Secular Conscience: Why Belief Belongs in Public Life, Austin Dacey attempts to lay out a successful naturalistic account of ethics.  One of the major objections to naturalism from a theistic perspective is that it destroys the foundations of ethics.  Theists often assert that a naturalistic system cannot account for the reality of ethics.  Naturalists have responded to this charge in different ways.  Some have acknowledged the validity of the charge and have rejected the concept of ethics (at least in an objective sense). [ed. See a good example of this here.]  Others have attempted to ground ethics in an egoistic system, like that of the famous Roman orator Cicero. [ed. Others have attempted to produce an individual-desire-based ethical system that avoids a crass kind of egoism.  For example, see here.]

Dr. Dacey has taken a different approach.  He has attempted to present a case for a non-egoistic, objective system of ethics.  And he has attempted to show that such a system can be constructed within the confines of a naturalistic metaphysics, without reference to a theistic God.  I agree with much of Dacey’s approach, but I think his attempt ultimately falls flat because of his assumption of naturalism.  Naturalism lacks a certain vital ingredient necessary to make his method successful at establishing objective ethics.  That ingredient can only be found in a classical theistic metaphysics.  My intent in this article is to explore Dacey’s method, show where he goes right, show how naturalism causes his attempt to fail, and show how theism would cause it to succeed.

An Account of Objective Ethics

Dacey’s approach to ethics is basically a form of “consequentialism,” also known as “utilitarianism.”  This approach recognizes that ethics is ultimately about “the good,” or “values.”  This is evident in our normal use of language.  The concept of “ought,” as in “I ought to do such-and-such,” implies a goal, an ideal that someone is attempting to reach or attain.  “I ought to take out the trash.”  Why?  “Because if I don’t, my mother will kill me!”  Or another example:  “I ought to set aside some of my income to help the poor.”  Why?  “Because they are suffering and need food.”  In both these cases, and in any other example that could be thought of, there is a goal in mind that creates the “ought.”  In the first example, it is the goal of not being punished; in the second, it is the goal of alleviating the suffering of other people.  The bottom line here is that “oughts” are always related to goals, and goals are things that are desired.  To desire something is to place a bit of one’s happiness in the attaining of that thing.  It is to say, “Attaining this thing will complete or increase my happiness.”  Consequentialism therefore recognizes that happiness is really the only goal.  But we have to be careful of our language here.  Someone might say, “Happiness is not my only goal; I desire many other things as well, such as comfort, money, good friends, etc.”  The problem with this, of course, is that happiness is not some particular object that one might desire instead of, say, roast chicken.  Happiness is simply the state of being satisfied.  To say I am seeking happiness is simply to say that I am seeking something, but it doesn’t tell me what I am seeking.  I do not find happiness in the abstract; I find it in particular objects or states of affairs.  Therefore “seeking happiness” means the same thing as “pursuing some goal or desire, whatever it may be.”  Therefore, seeking any goal, any good, any valuable thing at all is a subset of “seeking happiness.”  When we understand this, we can see that since ethics is a matter of “ought” and “values,” it is therefore always connected to the seeking of happiness.    Consequentialism is basically the idea that ethics consists in seeking the greatest happiness of the greatest number of beings.1

A consequentialist approach allows us to find an objectively real, empirically verifiable foundation for basic ethical concepts like “good,” “bad,” “value,” “right,” “wrong,” etc.  Happiness and suffering, with all their variants, are objectively real things, and anyone who is human is confronted constantly with empirical manifestations of these states in his/her own experiences.  Therefore we have something real on which to begin to ground objective ethics.  Dacey puts it this way:

    Now it makes sense to think of values as real and objective even while they are not supernatural or transcendent, part of some eternal symphony.  A value is always a value to someone--it contributes to the well-being of some person or sentient creature.  Take away all the beings to whom anything can matter, and nothing matters.  But so long as we live here, in this world, values live with us, and they don’t disappear when no one is looking at them.  They are relational--they exist in relation to us--but they exist objectively.  In the same way, color and sounds exist in relation to our eyes and ears, but they don’t change depending on what we think about them.  Our good helps to explain our desires, decisions, aspirations, confusions, and regrets.  And that makes it as real as anything.2

Since happiness is something objective, Dacey points out that there is a distinction between what a person may want and what will actually make him/her happy.  Borrowing from philosopher Peter Railton, Dacey illustrates this point with the story of an imaginary tourist named Lonnie:

    Imagine a tourist names Lonnie who has fallen ill while traveling in a foreign country.  Lonnie is feeling miserable, and in thinking about what would settle his stomach, he finds himself craving a comforting glass of milk.  Lonnie desires milk.  However, one can ask whether it is desirable for him; that is, whether it would be good for him, whether it would make his life go better.  In fact, Lonnie is suffering from dehydration, something common to on-the-go tourists but difficult for them to self-diagnose.  Milk, difficult to digest as it is, would only make Lonnie’s condition worse, whereas a long drink of water would quickly improve it.  Now, if Lonnie were in possession of all the relevant information about his situation, he would see this.  The fully informed Lonnie--call him Lonnie-Plus--would realize that what Lonnie needs is water, not milk.  If Lonnie-Plus were not only fully informed but also rational, he would use this information to further his underlying goal of feeling better.  So, if Lonnie-Plus were advising Lonnie, he would want Lonnie to drink water rather than milk.  What is good for Lonnie--what satisfies a real interest of Lonnie--is what Lonnie-Plus would want Lonnie to want.3

Dacey points out here what is a very obvious fact upon reflection.  My conscious wants (or even unconscious wants) are not necessarily the same as the objective fact about what is really good for me, what will really make me happy or satisfy me.

But we do not yet have an account of objective ethics.  As far as we have come so far, we have only prudence and a form of egoism.  “Prudence” is the attitude of seeking wisely one’s own happiness.  Assuming that I want to be happy, the fact that my wants are not always the same as what will objectively make me happy is useful to me.  It helps me to be more accurate and objective in the search for my own happiness.  But Dacey rightly points out that prudence is not ethics.  The principles involved in prudence may be crucial components of ethics, but there is more to ethics than prudence.  Ethics is about “oughts”--What ought I to do?  How ought I to live?  Prudence gives us no oughts; at least it gives us no oughts in an ultimate sense.  Prudence only provides oughts within a limited sphere, a sphere which ultimately has no normative value.  For example, prudence can lead me to say that “I ought to go to the grocery store, because otherwise I shall have no food to eat.”  I can go on to ask, Why should I care if I have food to eat?  “Because I will starve if I don’t eat.”  Why should I care about that?  “Because I don’t want to starve.”  In other words, because I have placed my happiness at least partly in the ideal of not starving.  But why should I care about my happiness?  “Because I just do.”  There can be no other answer.  Prudence cannot tell me why I should or ought to care about my happiness--it simply assumes as a practical matter that I do.  Therefore the normative should or ought ultimately gives way to a merely descriptive do that has no normative content at all.  The oughts of mere prudence are like the rules of a football game.  The rules tell me what I ought to do in order to play the game right and in order to win, but these oughts are based on the purely descriptive, non-normative assumption that I in fact wish to play football.  They don’t tell me why I ought to play football.  However practically valid the oughts of prudence (or of football) are, they ultimately provide no normative content; and it is that normative content that is crucial to ethics.  It is that normative content that takes us out of simply asking what we want to do and instead gets us asking what we ought to do in an objective sense whether we want to or not. As Dacey puts it,

    A theory of objective well-being like the one sketched above gets us closer to the moral point of view, but not quite there.  The A-Plus [or Lonnie-Plus] point of view transcends your present point of view, but it is still a view of your good.  The next move in the direction of the moral point of view is to transcend your own good, to rise to a scale from which you can survey your good and the good of others with equal, impartial concern.4

As the above quote indicates, Dacey believes that the next step in developing a system of objective ethics is to rise above a simple egoistic prudential viewpoint and to seek an objective, impartial viewpoint.  This is a huge shift, because I am now no longer looking at things from my own partial perspective--what is valuable to me--but I am attempting to gain an objective, universal perspective.  What we need here is a reminder of reality.  I am only one person, and I am not the only person in existence.  There are lots of other people (not to mention other sentient beings) in the universe who are just as capable of happiness and suffering as I am.  To limit real value only to what is valuable to me is to confuse my partial perspective with the way things really are.  We need a viewpoint adjustment.  We need to see things as they really are and not just as they appear to our partial, biased perspective.  Dacey here is following the reasoning of the philosopher Adam Smith, who pointed out that “just as objects closer to our eyes appear larger than they are in reality, interests nearer to our own appear more important than they are, from the moral point of view.”5  Adam Smith realized the importance of this fact for ethics:

In the same manner, to the selfish and original passions of human nature, the loss or gain of a very small interest of our own, appears to be of vastly more importance, excites a much more passionate joy or sorrow, a much more ardent desire or aversion, than the greatest concern of another with whom we have no particular connexion.  His interest, as long as they are surveyed from this station, can never be put into the balance with our own, can never restrain us from doing whatever may tend to promote our own, how ruinous soever to him.  Before we can make any proper comparison of those opposite interests, we must change our position.  We must view them, neither from our own place nor yet from him, neither with our own eyes nor yet with his, but from the place and with the eyes of a third person, who has no particular connexion with either, and who judges with impartiality between us.6

Dacey summarizes Smith’s point:

This point of view--neither our own nor our neighbor’s--is what we call the moral point of view.  It belongs to the “impartial spectator,” and the voice of the impartial spectator is the voice of conscience. . . .
    The impartial spectator sees what we often lose sight of: that if our interests matter, then so do the interests of our neighbors.  What we ought to do is what we ought to do all things considered, and that means having considered their interests as well as our own.  Think about why it is so difficult for an honest, thinking person to be an egoist, someone who holds that his interests alone determine what he ought to do.  Try to put yourself in the mind-set of the egoist: You believe that your interests matter, in the sense that they provide strong reasons for action (for example, your interest in not starving provides a strong reason why you should get your next meal).  If your interests matter, what about the interests of your neighbors and fellow human beings?  Is there something special about you that your interests should be taken into consideration while theirs should not?  True, you are you and they are they.  But why should that make a difference?  Like you, they think their interests matter, too.  So if anyone’s interests matter, everyone’s interests matter.7

Dacey (along with Adam Smith) is clearly right here.  If I am to attain a system of objective ethics and transcend the purely prudential considerations of my own desires, I must have an objective view of reality.  And the fact is that I am no more important than anyone else from an objective perspective.  At least there is no reason to see why I would be.  My happiness and suffering are no more important than the happiness and suffering of every other person.  They may be more important to me, but from the universe’s perspective, we are all equal.  The moral point of view is the perspective of the universe, of objective reality as a whole, not the perspective of any one being in the universe, and it is the moral point of view which provides the foundation for objective ethics.

Where the Naturalistic View Fails

It is at this point that Dacey’s naturalistic worldview is going to begin to cause him problems.  The naturalistic worldview posits an ultimately impersonal universe.  This is in contrast to a theistic worldview, which posits a fundamentally personal universe.  In other words, theism starts out with a personal being--God--in whom all things consist and from whom all is derived.  Naturalism, on the other hand, starts out with impersonal matter, energy, and physical laws, of which all things consist and from which all is derived.  In theism, ultimate reality is a personal being.  In naturalism, ultimate reality is an impersonal system which produces persons (at least once) accidentally, without deliberate intention, just as it does everything else without deliberate intention, being impersonal and therefore mindless.

The impersonal character of the naturalistic universe has a crucial bearing on Dacey’s system.  Since the universe, or ultimate objective reality, is impersonal, it has no goals, ideals, values, or desires.  Therefore when we take that crucial step out of our own perspective (and everyone else’s) and adopt an objective, universal, impartial perspective, we enter into a perspective in which nothing matters at all.  In naturalism, things matter to me and they matter to you, but nothing matters to the universe.  Nothing matters objectively.  Objectively, there are no ideals, no good or bad, and no values.  Nothing is valuable at all to any degree, because as Dacey points out, “A value is always a value to someone.”  Value is inherently personal, not impersonal.  If we adopt an impartial, objective perspective in a naturalistic worldview, we will not be motivated to care about others in addition to ourselves; rather, we will care about nothing at all including ourselves and everyone else.  In naturalism, values cannot transcend particular evolved beings.  Therefore, when I attempt to leave my own perspective and adopt a position from outside my own interests, I automatically leave all value and therefore all oughts behind me.

Upon reaching the impartial point of view (which Dacey acknowledges to be the moral point of view) and finding that nothing matters and therefore there is no such thing as real ethics, I can then go two different ways.  I can keep up an objective viewpoint and stop caring about anything at all, or I can allow myself to fall back into my old biased, prudential viewpoint.  Either way is fine from the universe’s perspective.  There is no reason for me to try to keep an objective perspective.  Since nothing ultimately matters and yet I still find myself alive and possessing desires and a capacity for happiness and suffering which I cannot wholly escape, I might as well go back to the A-Plus view of things and attempt to maximize my own happiness.  That happiness will probably involve trying to promote the happiness of (some) others to some degree, since it is part of human nature to need some people and to care about them.  But I will recognize that they really have no value any more than I do, and their parochial practical value is based solely in their ability to help satisfy my desires.  It is likely that pursuing my own selfish interests will sometimes involve causing suffering to others as well, as Adam Smith noted, but this is of no consequence from an objective point of view.  Of course, I might find that I am not up to putting up the effort to find out even as much as I can about the A-Plus point of view.  I have no moral obligation to care about my own happiness any more than anyone else’s, so if I am content, why waste the effort?  If I cease to be content, I can change in the future; and if I can’t--well, there is always suicide.  I will die anyway someday, and death ends all suffering.  As Cicero said, I can walk out of life whenever I want just as I can walk out of a theater when the show no longer pleases me.

How Theism Succeeds

Naturalism therefore destroys all hopes of arriving at a system of objective or real ethics--that is, ethics that are distinct from prudence.  However, the missing component that dooms naturalism is present in theism.  In a theistic worldview, ultimate reality is a personal being.  Persons are not mere accidents of impersonal laws and chemistry but are a fundamental part of what the universe is all about.  We are not by-products of a mindless universe but have been designed to exist by a universal mind.  This changes the picture entirely.  Now when we take the crucial step of leaving our own perspective and adopting an impartial, universal, objective perspective, we find that this perspective is the perspective of an absolute person who has ideals, values, goals, and desires, to whom things matter.  Now things matter to the universe, to objective reality, and therefore there is an objective foundation for a real moral point of view.

We can think of God as the author of the universe.  In the naturalistic worldview, the universe and its history is like a novel written by no one for no purpose.  In this case, there really is no goal to the story, and characters and actions cannot be good or bad.  Things just happen, and none of it matters.  But if the novel has an author, the universe of the novel has a purpose and a goal.  The author’s values provide an objective viewpoint from which to derive objective values.  In my novel, my perspective as the author is by definition the way things really are.  If I see something as bad, it is bad.  If I see something as good, it is good.  If I see something as valuable, it is inherently valuable.  Moral evaluations are not just subjective desires of the characters in the novel, but they are objective, impartial facts built into the very fabric of reality.  So it is with the real universe in theism.  God’s viewpoint is the objective viewpoint, and therefore what matters to him really matters objectively.  This is the only possible way to ground a system of objective ethics.  Without God, such a thing is not possible.  Dacey’s method of going about to establish objective ethics is right, but he lacks the crucial ingredient of an absolute person who constitutes ultimate, objective reality.  We can sum up this conclusion with a nice, pithy phrase:  If it matters to the ultimate, it ultimately matters.  If it doesn’t matter to the ultimate, it doesn’t ultimately matter.

Responses to a Few Objections to Theistic Ethics

Before I conclude, I would like to respond to a couple of possible objections to the theistic solution to Dacey’s problem.  One objection might be that positing God as the foundation of ethics is arbitrary.  If the reason that human beings are objectively valuable is because God values them, couldn’t he stop valuing them tomorrow?  This objection overlooks the fact that in classical theism, God is an unchanging, timeless entity.  His viewpoint will never change, although it takes into account all the various circumstances people are in when they make decisions in this world.  Also, in theism God is not simply one more being floating about the universe; he is the very rock bottom foundation of reality.  Nothing could be conceived to be less arbitrary than grounding ethics in an unchanging being who constitutes the very foundation of reality.

A related objection might be that while God might be unchangeable, yet if ethics is based on his values doesn’t that imply that it is based on his whim, and therefore is it not still arbitrary?  The problem with this objection is that it assumes that God could have no reason for the values he has.  Of course, if his values are the source of ethics, he cannot look to any higher ethical standard as the basis of his values, but that does not mean he cannot look to anything at all.  One of the most important virtues of the consequentialist approach is that it grounds ethics in a rational psychology.  Consequentialism works as well as it does because, as Dacey points out, there are objective facts about what makes people happy and what makes them miserable.  It doesn’t take a genius to conclude that slapping people in the face is not a good way to improve people’s happiness, because that is pretty much universally (ignoring for the moment the complexity of masochism) something that people don’t like.  The Lonnie and Lonnie-Plus story illustrates the same point.  But this is as true of God as it is for human beings.  Any being, however absolute, is going to have certain logical psychological traits.  Some of these traits are even pretty easily deducible without any special revelation.  For example, a classical theistic God is going to naturally desire the happiness of all beings and hate the suffering of all beings.  Why?  Because God is omniscient, and therefore has the foundation for infinite empathy.  (Note that this does not imply that God will always seek the pleasure of every being in every circumstance, but it does imply that he will always seek the greatest good of being in general and if he does ordain or allow suffering he will do it only because of the greater good.)  For another example, I think we can deduce that God would naturally love and value himself infinitely more than all other beings, because he is in fact greater in being than all other beings.

Another objection might be that we cannot know what God’s values are, and so they are of no practical use to us in forming our ethics.  But I have already partially answered this in the previous paragraph.  Also, in addition to things that can be rationally deduced about the character of God, we cannot rule out the possibility of additional revelation from God providing us even more insight.  How do we know if a revelation is from God?  That is a big question, but the broad and simple answer is the same way we know anything else--by looking to see if its claims have verifiable evidence of some kind supporting them.

Of course, another obvious objection could be that God in fact doesn’t exist or that we have no evidence that he does exist.  Well, I think otherwise, though I do not have time to go into my reasons here.  Many of these objections raise points that would require us to go far beyond the scope of this paper to answer thoroughly, but I believe they are answerable.  What I want to stress, though, in keeping with the main thrust of the paper, is that whether or not the theistic solution works, it is the only possible solution that can work.  I hope I have made clear that naturalism cannot provide a foundation for objective ethics, and that only theism has the ingredients to do so.  If theism fails for some other reason, the conclusion will not be that naturalism can do it, but that nothing can and therefore there is no such thing as objective ethics.  But I believe that theism can indeed provide a satisfactory account, and thus that our human intuition that there really is objective ethics can be rationally shown to be valid.

1 My explanation of and argument for consequentialism here is, of course, not a thorough one. If I had more time, I could relate consequentialism to supposed alternatives, such as virtue ethics. Dr. Dacey does some of this himself in the book (see pp. 179-182). Since it is not my main point in this paper to thoroughly defend consequentialism, I am content to leave the argument in its current state. Suffice it to say that I agree with Dacey that the valid points of other accounts of ethics can easily be accommodated in an ultimately consequentialist approach, and that those good points are ultimately reducible to consequentialist principles.

2 Austin Dacey, The Secular Conscience (Amherst, NY: Prometheus Books, 2008), 174.

3 Ibid., 172.

4 Ibid., 174.

5 Ibid., 176.

6 Ibid., 177, quoting Adam Smith, The Theory of Moral Sentiments, ed. D. D. Raphael and A. L. Macfie (Indianapolis: Liberty Fund, Inc., 1982), p. 135.

7 Ibid., 177, 178.

Published on the feast of St. Paul Miki and Companions.

ADDENDUM 7/13/24:  In a private conversation, I was dialoguing with a philosopher about a year ago who was arguing that the mere existence of emotions - of various forms of pain and happiness - makes those emotions valuable.  I value my own happiness and hate my own pain.  This is psychologically natural and unavoidable.  Other beings feel the same way about their own happiness and pain.  So, since other beings are just as real as I am, and their perspectives and emotional experiences are just as real, those experiences, objectively speaking, are just as valuable as mine, even if they aren't as valuable to me because I am biased due to my limitation of only being able to experience my own perspective and emotions.

I agree with what this philosopher was saying.  Even if to me my experiences are more real and therefore more valuable, yet, objectively, from a more universal point of view - that is, a point of view that takes in more of reality than my limited viewpoint does - all experiences of all beings are equally real.  So to be self-centered is to be biased by ignorance, to see the world in a distorted way, having a narrow view that doesn't capture the fullness of reality.

Where we disagreed in the conversation was that this philosopher argued that all this would remain true even if there was no actually existing universal consciousness.  But I would say that that is not true.  Where do emotional experiences exist?  They exist nowhere but in the minds and perspectives of those who are experiencing them.  My emotional experiences could not exist if I did not exist to be experiencing them.  Your emotional experiences would not exist if you did not exist.  There can be no ultimate distinction between an emotional experience existing and an emotional experience being experienced by someone.  So if we want to say, as I think we should, that all experiences of all beings exist (thus providing us with the foundation to make the ethical claim that all people's experiences have real, objective value that we ought to recognize), we have to ask, where do they exist?  Where is the reality in which all these emotional experiences exist together?  It is not in my mind, or yours.  It can only be in the experience of a universal consciousness.  But in order for the full universe of experiences to actually exist in a universal consciousness, that universal consciousness has to be experiencing them, and therefore has to exist.  So if there is no universal consciousness, there can be no universal reality in which all experiences are real.  Therefore, the position that all emotional experiences are real and thus have objective value depends on the existence of a universal, objective consciousness - and, as St. Thomas Aquinas would say, this all men call God.

The Doctrine of Justification in the Book of Galatians

Below is the Book of Galatians with my inline commentary, focusing on verses and ideas relevant particularly to the doctrine of justification.  This is a follow-up to my two earlier inline commentaries on Romans 1-8 and the Book of James.  Are we made right before God merely by an external imputation of the righteousness of Christ, without any regard whatsoever for our internal moral condition?  Or does our justification, to be fully complete and actualized, require and involve the inward transformation of our lives?  The former is what I call the "Anti-Augustinian" interpretation of the Protestant doctrine of justification.  The latter conforms to the Catholic doctrine of justification and to what I call the "Pro-Augustinian" interpretation of the Protestant doctrine.  You can read more about these two interpretations of the Protestant doctrine here.

My text is taken from the KJV text on the Bible Gateway website, tweaked and formatted to fit my purposes in this article.  I have removed chapter and verse numbers in order to preserve better the flow of the text.

Paul, an apostle, (not of men, neither by man, but by Jesus Christ, and God the Father, who raised him from the dead;) and all the brethren which are with me, unto the churches of Galatia:

Grace be to you and peace from God the Father, and from our Lord Jesus Christ, who gave himself for our sins, that he might deliver us from this present evil world, according to the will of God and our Father: To whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen.

I marvel that ye are so soon removed from him that called you into the grace of Christ unto another gospel: which is not another; but there be some that trouble you, and would pervert the gospel of Christ. But though we, or an angel from heaven, preach any other gospel unto you than that which we have preached unto you, let him be accursed. As we said before, so say I now again, if any man preach any other gospel unto you than that ye have received, let him be accursed.

There is only one true gospel.  All others are perversions.

For do I now persuade men, or God? or do I seek to please men? for if I yet pleased men, I should not be the servant of Christ. But I certify you, brethren, that the gospel which was preached of me is not after man. For I neither received it of man, neither was I taught it, but by the revelation of Jesus Christ.

For ye have heard of my conversation in time past in the Jews' religion, how that beyond measure I persecuted the church of God, and wasted it: And profited in the Jews' religion above many my equals in mine own nation, being more exceedingly zealous of the traditions of my fathers. But when it pleased God, who separated me from my mother's womb, and called me by his grace, to reveal his Son in me, that I might preach him among the heathen; immediately I conferred not with flesh and blood: Neither went I up to Jerusalem to them which were apostles before me; but I went into Arabia, and returned again unto Damascus. Then after three years I went up to Jerusalem to see Peter, and abode with him fifteen days. But other of the apostles saw I none, save James the Lord's brother. Now the things which I write unto you, behold, before God, I lie not. Afterwards I came into the regions of Syria and Cilicia; and was unknown by face unto the churches of Judaea which were in Christ: But they had heard only, That he which persecuted us in times past now preacheth the faith which once he destroyed. And they glorified God in me.

Then fourteen years after I went up again to Jerusalem with Barnabas, and took Titus with me also. And I went up by revelation, and communicated unto them that gospel which I preach among the Gentiles, but privately to them which were of reputation, lest by any means I should run, or had run, in vain. But neither Titus, who was with me, being a Greek, was compelled to be circumcised: And that because of false brethren unawares brought in, who came in privily to spy out our liberty which we have in Christ Jesus, that they might bring us into bondage: To whom we gave place by subjection, no, not for an hour; that the truth of the gospel might continue with you.

Paul seems here to be referring to the same issues that come up in Acts 15, in the discussion of the Jerusalem Council.  Do Gentiles who become Christians have to be circumcised and required to keep the ceremonies of the Law of Moses?  Paul takes this issue very seriously, because for him, as we will see below, it is tied to the question of whether we will follow Christ or reject him to keep the pre-Christian Old Covenant.

But of these who seemed to be somewhat, (whatsoever they were, it maketh no matter to me: God accepteth no man's person:) for they who seemed to be somewhat in conference added nothing to me: But contrariwise, when they saw that the gospel of the uncircumcision was committed unto me, as the gospel of the circumcision was unto Peter; (For he that wrought effectually in Peter to the apostleship of the circumcision, the same was mighty in me toward the Gentiles:) And when James, Cephas, and John, who seemed to be pillars, perceived the grace that was given unto me, they gave to me and Barnabas the right hands of fellowship; that we should go unto the heathen, and they unto the circumcision. Only they would that we should remember the poor; the same which I also was forward to do.

Paul and the earlier leaders of the Church are fellow-workers, not rivals.  They preach the same gospel.

But when Peter was come to Antioch, I withstood him to the face, because he was to be blamed. For before that certain came from James, he did eat with the Gentiles: but when they were come, he withdrew and separated himself, fearing them which were of the circumcision. And the other Jews dissembled likewise with him; insomuch that Barnabas also was carried away with their dissimulation. But when I saw that they walked not uprightly according to the truth of the gospel, I said unto Peter before them all, If thou, being a Jew, livest after the manner of Gentiles, and not as do the Jews, why compellest thou the Gentiles to live as do the Jews?

Peter agreed with Paul that the Gentiles should be welcomed into the Church without having to become Jews and keep the ceremonies of the Old Covenant.  But during this period in Antioch, Peter failed to live up to his principles for fear of some who were still critical of a full intermixing between Jews and Gentiles.  Paul rebuked him.

We who are Jews by nature, and not sinners of the Gentiles, knowing that a man is not justified by the works of the law, but by the faith of Jesus Christ, even we have believed in Jesus Christ, that we might be justified by the faith of Christ, and not by the works of the law: for by the works of the law shall no flesh be justified. But if, while we seek to be justified by Christ, we ourselves also are found sinners, is therefore Christ the minister of sin? God forbid. For if I build again the things which I destroyed, I make myself a transgressor. For I through the law am dead to the law, that I might live unto God. I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me: and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me. I do not frustrate the grace of God: for if righteousness come by the law, then Christ is dead in vain.

For Paul, the issue of the relationship between Jews and Gentiles is inseparably tied up with the question of how we are made right with God--how we are justified.  In the Old Covenant system, Jews were separated from Gentiles.  Gentiles were, in general, excluded.  In the New Covenant, Jews and Gentiles are received into the one Body of Christ as equals.  Gentiles don't have to become Jews.  The ceremonial regulations that separated Jews from Gentiles no longer apply.  Now everyone enters into the covenant people of God by means of faith in Christ and baptism.  To require Gentiles to be circumcised and become Jews, for Paul, is to go back to the Old Covenant.  But to go back to the Old Covenant is to reject Christ who has brought the New Covenant and superseded the Old.  It is therefore to reject Christ and to seek to be justified by obedience to the Law of God without the grace of Christ.

But no one can be justified by obedience to the law of God, for we are all sinners.  We can only be justified by grace through faith in Christ.  We do not attain a right status before God by means of doing good works which God then rewards with the bestowal of his acceptance.  Rather, we, being sinners, receive a righteous status before God by means of receiving righteousness from God as a free gift through faith in Christ.  All of this follows the same trajectory we observed in our examination of Romans 1-8.

But is Christ a minister of sin because he justifies sinners?  No, because in justifying sinners, he does not approve of sin, but he destroys sin and makes us righteous.  Through faith in Christ, we have died to the law--not to its moral requirements, as if sin no longer brings punishment, but we have died to observance of the law as the way of obtaining our justification.  Now, through faith, we are united to Christ, and we live in him and he lives in us.  We do not work out our own righteousness which then earns God's favor; we receive righteousness from God as a free gift through faith in Christ.

We do not want to build up again the things we have destroyed.  That is, in coming to Christ, sin is not built up, but destroyed.  And we do not, after coming to Christ, go back to the law as our way of salvation, for that would be regress and not progress.  If we could produce our own righteousness by means of obedience to the law without grace, then Christ died in vain.

O foolish Galatians, who hath bewitched you, that ye should not obey the truth, before whose eyes Jesus Christ hath been evidently set forth, crucified among you? This only would I learn of you, Received ye the Spirit by the works of the law, or by the hearing of faith? Are ye so foolish? having begun in the Spirit, are ye now made perfect by the flesh? Have ye suffered so many things in vain? if it be yet in vain. He therefore that ministereth to you the Spirit, and worketh miracles among you, doeth he it by the works of the law, or by the hearing of faith? Even as Abraham believed God, and it was accounted to him for righteousness. Know ye therefore that they which are of faith, the same are the children of Abraham. And the scripture, foreseeing that God would justify the heathen through faith, preached before the gospel unto Abraham, saying, "In thee shall all nations be blessed." So then they which be of faith are blessed with faithful Abraham.

"Look, Galatians," says Paul, "why are you going back now to the law?  Is this how you started out when you came to Christ?  Did you receive all the things you have received--the Spirit and all his gifts--through earning them by your own obedience to the law, or did you receive them as a gift of grace through faith in Christ?  The latter, of course.  So then, why would you now try to go back to the law?  Do you think that having begun to receive righteousness by faith you can complete your righteousness by works?  No.  As Abraham discovered, our righteousness comes to us from faith, not from works.  If you want to be a son of Abraham, therefore, you've got to follow the way of justification by faith.

For as many as are of the works of the law are under the curse: for it is written, "Cursed is every one that continueth not in all things which are written in the book of the law to do them." But that no man is justified by the law in the sight of God, it is evident: for, "The just shall live by faith." And the law is not of faith: but, "The man that doeth them shall live in them." Christ hath redeemed us from the curse of the law, being made a curse for us: for it is written, "Cursed is every one that hangeth on a tree": That the blessing of Abraham might come on the Gentiles through Jesus Christ; that we might receive the promise of the Spirit through faith.

Again, we do not receive righteousness by producing it ourselves by our works, but as a gift of grace.  The Spirit is given to us as a gift of grace, purchased for us through the redemption of Christ, who took our curse upon himself so as to communicate to us his blessings.  He died so we could live.  There is a clear contrast between the way of justification by faith and the way of justification by works.

Brethren, I speak after the manner of men; Though it be but a man's covenant, yet if it be confirmed, no man disannulleth, or addeth thereto. Now to Abraham and his seed were the promises made. He saith not, And to seeds, as of many; but as of one, And to thy seed, which is Christ. And this I say, that the covenant, that was confirmed before of God in Christ, the law, which was four hundred and thirty years after, cannot disannul, that it should make the promise of none effect. For if the inheritance be of the law, it is no more of promise: but God gave it to Abraham by promise. Wherefore then serveth the law? It was added because of transgressions, till the seed should come to whom the promise was made; and it was ordained by angels in the hand of a mediator. Now a mediator is not a mediator of one, but God is one. Is the law then against the promises of God? God forbid: for if there had been a law given which could have given life, verily righteousness should have been by the law. But the scripture hath concluded all under sin, that the promise by faith of Jesus Christ might be given to them that believe.

The promise of righteousness as a gift of grace to be received by faith was already well in place hundreds of years before the Law of Moses was given, so the law is not the source of our righteousness.  The giving of the law did not annul the way of justification by faith already established with Abraham hundreds of years earlier.  The law was not given in order to provide a way of salvation other than that of faith.  It was given to help with sins until Christ should come to bring redemption.

If the law could have made us alive--if it could have changed our hearts and made us righteous--then it could have given us the righteousness we need.  But it can't make alive.  Only the grace of Christ can do this.

But before faith came, we were kept under the law, shut up unto the faith which should afterwards be revealed. Wherefore the law was our schoolmaster to bring us unto Christ, that we might be justified by faith. But after that faith is come, we are no longer under a schoolmaster. For ye are all the children of God by faith in Christ Jesus. For as many of you as have been baptized into Christ have put on Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female: for ye are all one in Christ Jesus. And if ye be Christ's, then are ye Abraham's seed, and heirs according to the promise.

The Law of Moses was our tutor until Christ should come.  It was never the way of justification, but it helped us learn what we needed to learn to be ready for the coming of Christ.  To go back to the ceremonies of the Law of Moses now would be to reject the coming of Christ and act as if the Law was all we ever needed.  It would be like having a Steward appointed over a kingdom until the return of the King, and then rejecting the King when he comes in favor of the Steward.  The Steward is not at odds with the King but his servant.  He only becomes a rival if he tries to become an alternative to the King.  There is nothing wrong with the Law of Moses.  It was from God.  But it was meant to lead us to Christ.  If, instead, we try to use it to replace Christ, we have created a false system of justification at enmity with God's way of grace.

Now I say, That the heir, as long as he is a child, differeth nothing from a servant, though he be lord of all; but is under tutors and governors until the time appointed of the father. Even so we, when we were children, were in bondage under the elements of the world: But when the fulness of the time was come, God sent forth his Son, made of a woman, made under the law, to redeem them that were under the law, that we might receive the adoption of sons. And because ye are sons, God hath sent forth the Spirit of his Son into your hearts, crying, Abba, Father. Wherefore thou art no more a servant, but a son; and if a son, then an heir of God through Christ.

We are no longer merely servants of God, or under-age children, under an inferior tutor.  We have now become children of God, full heirs of God, through Christ.

Howbeit then, when ye knew not God, ye did service unto them which by nature are no gods. But now, after that ye have known God, or rather are known of God, how turn ye again to the weak and beggarly elements, whereunto ye desire again to be in bondage? Ye observe days, and months, and times, and years. I am afraid of you, lest I have bestowed upon you labour in vain.

Paul compares the previous idolatrous life of the Gentiles with the life of Jews under the Law of Moses before Christ.  In both cases, there was a kind of bondage to something inferior, something which, of itself, could not bring salvation.  Of course, Paul is not saying that the Law of Moses was evil or idolatrous, but only pointing out that, like the religions and philosophies of the Gentiles, it could not bring salvation.  For the Gentiles who have become Christians to try to take upon themselves the ceremonies of the Law of Moses would be, in a way, like going back to their pre-Christian religions--seeking some way of salvation other than through Christ and the grace of the true God.

Brethren, I beseech you, be as I am; for I am as ye are: ye have not injured me at all. Ye know how through infirmity of the flesh I preached the gospel unto you at the first. And my temptation which was in my flesh ye despised not, nor rejected; but received me as an angel of God, even as Christ Jesus. Where is then the blessedness ye spake of? for I bear you record, that, if it had been possible, ye would have plucked out your own eyes, and have given them to me. Am I therefore become your enemy, because I tell you the truth? They zealously affect you, but not well; yea, they would exclude you, that ye might affect them. But it is good to be zealously affected always in a good thing, and not only when I am present with you.

Paul wonders how it is that those who were so passionate before about following the gospel brought by Paul should now so quickly be following the false teachers who are leading away from Christ and to justification by the works of the law.

My little children, of whom I travail in birth again until Christ be formed in you, I desire to be present with you now, and to change my voice; for I stand in doubt of you. Tell me, ye that desire to be under the law, do ye not hear the law? For it is written, that Abraham had two sons, the one by a bondmaid, the other by a freewoman. But he who was of the bondwoman was born after the flesh; but he of the freewoman was by promise. Which things are an allegory: for these are the two covenants; the one from the mount Sinai, which gendereth to bondage, which is Agar. For this Agar is mount Sinai in Arabia, and answereth to Jerusalem which now is, and is in bondage with her children. But Jerusalem which is above is free, which is the mother of us all. For it is written, "Rejoice, thou barren that bearest not; break forth and cry, thou that travailest not: for the desolate hath many more children than she which hath an husband." Now we, brethren, as Isaac was, are the children of promise. But as then he that was born after the flesh persecuted him that was born after the Spirit, even so it is now. Nevertheless what saith the scripture? "Cast out the bondwoman and her son: for the son of the bondwoman shall not be heir with the son of the freewoman." So then, brethren, we are not children of the bondwoman, but of the free.

Paul applies to story of Hagar and Sarah to the relationship between the unbelieving Jews and the Christians.  The Jews, having rejected Christ to keep the Old Covenant, have abandoned the grace and Spirit of God for an attempt to be saved by their own human obedience to the law.  They have chosen the "flesh"--the merely human, bound to sin--over the "Spirit"--the grace of God which liberates us from sin and gives us a righteousness we could not attain for ourselves.  Paul exhorts the Galatians not to follow the way of the unbelieving Jews but the way of Christ.

Stand fast therefore in the liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free, and be not entangled again with the yoke of bondage. Behold, I Paul say unto you, that if ye be circumcised, Christ shall profit you nothing. For I testify again to every man that is circumcised, that he is a debtor to do the whole law. Christ is become of no effect unto you, whosoever of you are justified by the law; ye are fallen from grace. For we through the Spirit wait for the hope of righteousness by faith. For in Jesus Christ neither circumcision availeth any thing, nor uncircumcision; but faith which worketh by love.

Again, if you seek to be justified by obedience to the law, you are doomed, for you can't do it.  You are a sinner.  Instead, the people of faith wait for righteousness to be given to them by God.  They do not try to be saved by the ceremonies of the law but through the Spirit who will enable them, through faith, to truly live lives of love.

Ye did run well; who did hinder you that ye should not obey the truth? This persuasion cometh not of him that calleth you. A little leaven leaveneth the whole lump. I have confidence in you through the Lord, that ye will be none otherwise minded: but he that troubleth you shall bear his judgment, whosoever he be. And I, brethren, if I yet preach circumcision, why do I yet suffer persecution? then is the offence of the cross ceased. I would they were even cut off which trouble you.

For, brethren, ye have been called unto liberty; only use not liberty for an occasion to the flesh, but by love serve one another. For all the law is fulfilled in one word, even in this; Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. But if ye bite and devour one another, take heed that ye be not consumed one of another. This I say then, Walk in the Spirit, and ye shall not fulfil the lust of the flesh. For the flesh lusteth against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh: and these are contrary the one to the other: so that ye cannot do the things that ye would. But if ye be led of the Spirit, ye are not under the law. Now the works of the flesh are manifest, which are these; adultery, fornication, uncleanness, lasciviousness, idolatry, witchcraft, hatred, variance, emulations, wrath, strife, seditions, heresies, envyings, murders, drunkenness, revellings, and such like: of the which I tell you before, as I have also told you in time past, that they which do such things shall not inherit the kingdom of God. But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance: against such there is no law. And they that are Christ's have crucified the flesh with the affections and lusts. If we live in the Spirit, let us also walk in the Spirit. Let us not be desirous of vain glory, provoking one another, envying one another.

We have been liberated from the law.  But that does not mean we have been liberated from the requirements of the law.  We have been liberated from our attempts to produce our own righteousness from ourselves in order to be justified before God's moral law.  We are no longer required to follow the ceremonies distinctive to the Old Covenant, but the moral law of God is still as much required of us now as ever.  Our salvation does not come in being released from these requirements, but in being given the Spirit of God, through whom we can put to death the evil workings in our hearts and cultivate instead good fruits of righteousness.

If we continue to live in sin, we will not attain the kingdom of God, for the moral law of God cannot tolerate such things, for God is holy.  But if, through the Spirit, we turn from evil living and live instead lives of righteousness, we will receive the kingdom of God, for the law will have no objection to us.  We will be living in accordance with love to God and neighbor, and so our lives will be in accord with God's law and acceptable to it.

We are to be justified by faith and not by works.  Just as we saw in Romans and in James, so we see here as well that this does not mean that we become acceptable to God merely by an external imputation of righteousness.  Rather, we become acceptable to God and thus gain eternal life because, through faith, the Spirit is given to us and we are made able to live lives of righteousness that fulfill the law.  The moral condition of our hearts and lives is not irrelevant to our moral status before God.  On the contrary, our status has everything to do with our moral condition.  We become justified before God only by having our lives changed by the Spirit to produce fruit that is acceptable to God.  It is not that Christ obeyed the law for us and provided for us an external imputation of his righteousness so that we no longer have to obey the law ourselves in order to be right with God.  Rather, Christ merited for us through his life and through his death a righteousness which is given to us through faith by the Holy Spirit, a righteousness that comes to live in us and enables us to meet the law's requirements by our holy living.

Brethren, if a man be overtaken in a fault, ye which are spiritual, restore such an one in the spirit of meekness; considering thyself, lest thou also be tempted. Bear ye one another's burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ. For if a man think himself to be something, when he is nothing, he deceiveth himself. But let every man prove his own work, and then shall he have rejoicing in himself alone, and not in another. For every man shall bear his own burden.

We "fulfill the law of Christ" when we bear one another's burdens.

Let him that is taught in the word communicate unto him that teacheth in all good things.

Be not deceived; God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap. For he that soweth to his flesh shall of the flesh reap corruption; but he that soweth to the Spirit shall of the Spirit reap life everlasting. And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not. As we have therefore opportunity, let us do good unto all men, especially unto them who are of the household of faith.

We will reap what we sow.  Our justification does not come from God annulling for us the requirements of his law and accepting us as righteous merely because another is righteous in our place.  Rather, God justifies us by giving us his Spirit, who enables and causes us to live righteously and so to sow with our lives that which will reap eternal life.  God is not mocked.  His law will not tolerate sin.  We must therefore be freed from sin and made righteous to be acceptable before God's law.  We don't need our sin covered up externally, like snow on a dunghill.  We need the dung to be turned to gold.  Anything else is a mockery of God's moral law.

Ye see how large a letter I have written unto you with mine own hand.

As many as desire to make a fair shew in the flesh, they constrain you to be circumcised; only lest they should suffer persecution for the cross of Christ. For neither they themselves who are circumcised keep the law; but desire to have you circumcised, that they may glory in your flesh. But God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom the world is crucified unto me, and I unto the world. For in Christ Jesus neither circumcision availeth any thing, nor uncircumcision, but a new creature. And as many as walk according to this rule, peace be on them, and mercy, and upon the Israel of God. From henceforth let no man trouble me: for I bear in my body the marks of the Lord Jesus.

Let us glory only in the cross of Christ.  For through the cross we are crucified to the world.  In Christ, the ceremonies of the law are done away with, and what really counts is (not merely an external imputation of righteousness, but) a new creation, a creation that bears righteous fruit to God and so fulfills the law.

Brethren, the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit. Amen.

In closing, the whole idea of Paul's doctrine of justification which he articulates so thoroughly in Romans and Galatians is summed up succinctly in his letter to the Ephesians, 2:8-10:  "For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God: Not of works, lest any man should boast. For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God hath before ordained that we should walk in them."

Two errors are repudiated here.  1. Paul repudiates the idea that we are justified by our own works--that is, that we can produce our own righteousness and so earn for ourselves a right relationship with God.  It is, rather, by grace and not by works that we are saved.  2. But Paul also repudiates the idea that our justification by grace means that the law's requirements have been removed from us, that we no longer have to be righteous, that we are saved by becoming exempt somehow from having to live in accordance with God's moral law and be judged according to the conformity of our lives to that law.  On the contrary, while our own works do not save us, yet what our salvation does is produce in us good works that please God and fulfill the requirements of his law.  The grace of Christ does not mean that we no longer have to be righteous to be right with God; the grace of Christ means that we are now given the ability to be righteous and so right with God.

For more, see here.

Published on the feast of St. Paul Miki and Companions.