Even supposing the Trinity is the grammar of being, isn't that a bit general? How is it helpful?
I don't know. This blog does not proceed in a linear way, rather, via hunches, suspicions, and sometimes coincidences. For example, the word "grammar" rarely comes up in my literary peregrinations, so yesterday I was surprised to read in a randomly selected book that theology
is best described as a sort of grammar. The church, we may say, is the community that speaks Christianese, and theology formulates the syntax and semantics of the language (Jenson).
"Theological opinions of individual theologians or schools are attempts to point out" the proper rules of this grammar. But "even an enduring majority" can fall into "speaking Christianese ungrammatically."
Most famously, this was the role of the seven ecumenical councils, each in succession laying down the grammatical laws of Christianese, as if to say "speak this way and not in that other way" -- for example, that the Trinity is three persons in one godhead, or that Christ is begotten and not made, or that he is not two persons, etc. To ignore these rules is to no longer speak grammatically correct Christianese.
Recall that grammar is universal whereas language is particular. Theology tries to articulate this universal grammar, as does philosophy. Or rather, theology begins with a grammar of being revealed by God, whereas philosophy endeavors (or used to) to discern this grammar from natural reason and empirical evidence. Aquinas tried to formulate a grammar that combined both.
As do I, since -- I suspect -- there must be a single Grammar of the various grammars of being. I say this grammar is either impossible or it is necessary. Therefore, since it's not impossible, it must be necessary; and that which is necessary is eternal, and can never fail to be or to happen.
However, we know the laws of nature cannot be the true grammar of being, since they are contingent and not necessary. They are not eternal, but must have a cause or genesis. Logogenesis? Logos must be among the most loaded words in all of existence, for it connotes both natural, rational, and judicial law, not to mention -- take it away, Gemini --
Logos often signifies the rational principle that governs the universe. It represents the underlying order and logic of reality.
It's associated with the capacity for human reason and understanding. Logos is closely tied to the principles of logical thought and argumentation. It emphasizes the importance of clear, coherent, and reasoned discourse.
In its original Greek context, logos also meant "word" or "speech." This connotation highlights the power of language to express reason and communicate truth.
In Aristotle's rhetoric, logos is one of the three modes of persuasion, alongside ethos and pathos. It refers to the use of logical arguments, evidence, and reasoning to persuade an audience. It is the appeal to the audiences sense of reason.
Logos can also refer to an underlying principle or pattern that structures and organizes things.
In Christian theology, particularly in the Gospel of John, logos refers to the divine Word, which is identified with Jesus Christ. This connotation emphasizes Christ as the embodiment of God's reason and revelation. It is the divine reason that creates and sustains the universe.
Logos is also tied to the idea of divine revelation, or the way in which God communicates with humanity.
In conclusion,
Logos implies a sense of order, structure, and coherence. It is often associated with the pursuit of truth and knowledge, and highlights the importance of effective communication and dialogue.
So, probably the best word ever, because where would we be without it? Of course we don't mean the word itself but that to which it points, e.g., law, order, logic, reason, understanding, pattern, coherence, revelation, et al.
It seems that this Logos is none other than the long lost Cosmic Area Rug. Which is to say, a valued--
Yes, and which modern philosophy says we can never find or recover. A secular philosopher will still discern a grammar of being, but in scientism, for example, this grammar reduces to physics. The question is, is the grammar of physics rich enough to account for life and consciousness? If not, what is the grammar of life? And of mind?
I don't know whom to ask except Robert Rosen, whose whole project involves proving that the grammar of physics is insufficient to account for complex systems such as life. That it to say, language has its syntactical aspect and its semantic aspect, and the latter cannot be reduced to the former. In short, meaning cannot be reduced to word order.
Indeed, it is possible for a perfectly grammatically correct sentence to be devoid of meaning (e.g. the famous Colorless green ideas sleep furiously), just as different sentences may convey an identical meaning.
Everything communicates to us via a language, and that's just weird. For example, math is a language that is curiously spoken by material reality. Likewise, there is the language of DNA spoken by living organisms.
What is at least equally weird is that we understand the languages. These are two very different grammars, each valid on its own level. But if Rosen is correct, you can't translate Biologese into Mathese, because the latter is too comparatively impoverished a language.
We have to end this post prematurely because of chores, errands, and other distractions. Perhaps these ideas will marinate and simmer over the next 24 hours and emerge more fully cooked.