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June 09, 2008

A Gadamarian Critique of Hirsch’s Meaning/Significance Distinction, by Cynthia R. Nielsen

Gadamer_02_3

Part I:

Is interpretation primarily about a relation between the reader and the subjective intentions of the author?  Doesn’t the whole hermeneutical method that E.D. Hirsch espouses in his book, Validity in Interpretation, land us right back into the egocentric predicament, as the sole purpose becomes re-producing the original subjective meaning of the author?  According to Hans-George Gadamer, Hirsch’s method misses the essential dialogical character of interpretation.  (The very fact that he proffers a “method” seems to harmonize more with modern rather than premodern or postmodern hermeneutical practices). The text for Hirsch becomes an object of scientific investigation rather than an occasion for the interpreter to be changed by the subject matter of the text through locating its question and then being himself/herself questioned by the subject matter of the text.  As Gadamer says, “the real event of understanding…goes continually beyond what can be brought to the understanding of the other person’s words by methodological effort and critical self-control.  It is true of every conversation that through it something different has come to be” (“Universality of the Hermeneutical Problem,” p. 58).

In addition to his focus on the dialogical character of a text (emphasizing the text’s flexibility or dynamism, yet still affirming the text’s identity), Gadamer develops what he calls a “phenomenology of the game” to highlight the inadequacy of a theory of understanding that focuses solely and exclusively on the subjectivity of the author or the interpreter.[1]  In his editorial introduction to Gadamer’s Philosophical Heremeneutics, David Linge describes how, in the phenomenon of play, the player, so to speak, “loses himself” in the game—he or she is “absorbed into the back-and-forth movement of the game, that is, into the definable procedure and rules of the game.”[2] The game is not understood as an “action of subjectivity,” but rather as a “release from subjectivity.”  As Linge explains, “what is essential to the phenomenon of play is not so much the particular goal it involves but the dynamic back-and-forth movement in which the players are caught up—the movement that itself specifies how the goal will be reached.  Thus the game has its own place or space (its Spielraum), and its movement and aims are cut off from the direct involvement in the world stretching beyond it.”[3]

The structures that Gadamer finds in the phenomenology of play are then put in service of Gadamer’s attempt to develop an alternative theory of understanding—one that neither confines the meaning of the text solely to the subjective intention of the author, nor construes the project of understanding as merely an attempt to re-produce the original intention of the author.  As Linge points out, the customary authorial intention hermeneutical approach is fashioned in the image of the methodology of modern science. “Just as scientific experiments can be repeated exactly any number of times under the same conditions and mathematical problems have but one answer, so the author’s intention constitutes a kind of fact, a ‘meaning-in-itself,’ which is repeated by the correct interpretation.”[4]

Part II:

As we highlighted in the previous post, E.D. Hirsch of course was the great proponent of authorial intention, as well as the meaning/significance distinction.  According to Hirsch, a given text has one and only one meaning, yet the significance of the text pro nobis may and indeed does vary.  Highlighting the problem with Hirsch’s theory, Linge states,

The basic difficulty with this theory is that it subjectifies both meaning and understanding, thus rendering unintelligible the development of tradition that transmits the text or art work to us and influence our reception of it in the present.[5] 

To restrict the meaning of the text to the mens auctoris is to view understanding as a “transaction between the creative consciousness of the author and the purely reproductive consciousness of the interpreter.”[6]  According to Hirsch’s theory the fact that we have competing interpretations over time of the meaning very same text—not the significance of the text for us—simply means that either all the interpretations are wrong or one interpreter has it right and all others have missed the mark.  This approach does not seem to do justice to the phenomenon of interpretation, and it likewise “involves a hubris regarding our own reality:  it denies the role of our own hermeneutical situation and thus exhibits a neglect of the reflexive dimension of understanding that Gadamer has show to be operative in understanding.”[7] 

Rather than restrict the meaning of a text to the intention of the author, Gadamer speaks of the text as having an “excess of meaning” that surpasses authorial intention and upon which tradition builds.  Understanding for Gadamer involves a fusion of horizons—the horizons of the interpreter (and his/her tradition) and the text. Thus, understanding is never merely re-productive but is always productive.  In Gadamer’s approach to hermeneutics, the meaning of the text is understood as “both eliciting and including itself in the varying interpretations through which it is transmitted.”[8]  Here Gadamer’s phenomenology of the game informs his hermeneutics.  Linge again provides a helpful explanation,

The idea of a self-presenting reality overcomes the isolation of the text as an object over against its interpretations.  Neither the historically transmitted text nor the work of art can be regarded as solely dependent on its creator or on its present performer or interpreter, so that by reference to one of these we might get a definitive perception of it “in itself.”  Like the game, the text or art work lives in its presentations.  They are not alien or secondary to it but are its very being, as possibilities that flow from it and are included in it as facets of its own disclosure.  The variety of performances or interpretations are not simply subjective variations of a meaning locked in subjectivity, but belong instead to the ontological possibility of the work.[9]

Gadamer, in stark contrast with Hirsch, does not offer a single methodological procedure of hermeneutics.  Rather, for Gadamer, hermeneutics and understanding involve a dialogical engagement which gives rise to the possibility of a diverse manifold of meanings (without destroying identity), as the present is brought into conversation with the past. 


[1] David E. Linge (ed.), Hans-George Gadamer, Philosophical Hermeneutics, (Berkeley:  Univ. of California Press, 1977) p. xxii. 

[2] Philosophical Hermeneutics, p. xxiii.

[3] Philosophical Hermeneutics, p. xxiii

[4] Philosophical Hermeneutics, p. xxiv.

[5] Philosophical Hermeneutics, p. xxiv.

[6] Philosophical Hermeneutics, p. xxiv.

[7] Philosophical Hermeneutics, p. xxv.

[8] Philosophical Hermeneutics, p. xxv.

[9] Philosophical Hermeneutics, pp. xxv-xxvi.

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Comments

if the game has a space and a place...limits...and if it has movement...and even direction (is heading for a "goal")...then is the game...or the "tradition"...itself a kind of "subject"? i suppose if we are talking about a "christian tradition" then we would/could even talk about a "willfull subject" (God)...but otherwise maybe we're just talking about a subject with a particular "nature"...or not...maybe even with a contrary (to God) "will"...
????

Hi Jason,

Doesn't tradition in some genuine sense take on a life of its own so to speak?

Best wishes,
Cynthia

There are numerous problems with the hermeneutic laid out here. I'll just name a few.

First, by dismissing Hirsch's paradigm as a return to "the egocentric predicament", an appeal seems to be made to the expedient of reconceptualizing the hermeneutic scheme in such a way that an efficient hermeneutic closure is possible, as if the refashioning of schemes on the basis of their closurability can be justified on logical or criticial grounds. But hermeneutic closure is only a goal--it is not a justification for reconceptualizing the subject-object scheme.

Why does Linge say that "the customary authorial intention hermeneutical approach is fashioned in the image of the methodology of modern science"? The centrality of the intentionalist aspect of interpretation has been a staple in hermeneutic discussions since the time of Homer! If perhaps some aspect of its modern reformulation *is* problematic, that would not mean that intentionalism per se should not provide the fundamental shape of a valid hermeneutic.

From the perspective of the history of hermeneutics, the implication that the search for a single authorial intention is somehow in service to a modern ideal can hardly be sustained. And if the position that interpretations other than the successful reconstruction of the author's intention are wrong represents hubris of some sort, then it would be a clear case of hubris for the sake of good. If one wanted to play this game of assigning hubris (as a bad thing), I think the greater offenders would be those who think they can interpret a writing *without* reference to authorial intention.

To speak of a text as possessing an "excess of meaning" beyond the author's intention is to define what a text is in isolation from its orginary moments, which amounts to an arbitrary redefinition of a preexisting given. A move like this requires some sort of justification, but what might it be? The arguments that Gadamer (and others) have offered are all very weak. Gadamer's scheme may be fascinating, and one can readily see its appeal, but it is based on a giant leap in logic, one that Gadamer makes very little attempt to justify--or even to identify. In fact, his entire justification for the leap (insofar as he owns up to it) lies in his assuming a phenomenological approach to texts in place of a historical approach. But where is the justification for *that*?

Thank you Cynthia. I would say so.

And John...comparing Homer to Hirsch in the context of "authorial intent" strikes me as similar to comparing Daedalus to Ansel Adams.

Jason,

If the subject were a comparison of reasoning, I'm sure there would be differences. But the point is that an intentionalist hermeneutic per se is very often wrongly said to be a modernist development, as if pre-Enlightenment hermeneutics was not intentionalist. That's why I mentioned the debate between Homer's earliest critics. *If* the charge is being made that Hirsch's hermeneutic is somehow modern *in its sheer design*, then that charge is plainly wrong.

John thanks for the reply/comment. May I ask...what exactly WAS this ancient debate over Homer to which you are referring, and who engaged in it? I ask because I chose Daedalus and Ansel Adams on purpose. My reasoning has to do with lots of things...but the most obvious one in this case is your reference to "isolating the text from its originary moments," which is itself I think strongly linked to your mentioning of "hermeneutic closure," both of which are, I think, strongly linked to modern science. Does poeisis stop after the photograph (or book) is printed (hence my Daedalus reference)? What if, as in the case of Homer, we're talking about a time before the written word (in that case the "historical approach" is clearly just plain irrelevant)? And so what if we use that glimpse into the time before the written word as a clue into now, when people still do actually speak orally?

Jason,

I was referring to debates among early interpreters of Homer about the use of allegory as a lens, and about whether the validity of an allegorical reading should be decided by Homer's intention. (Whether there was a "Homer" *per se*, and whether he actually wrote his story, is immaterial for my use of Homer. I'm talking about those who treated Homer as a writer, and who represent ancient discussions about textual hermeneutics. When I said "since the time of Homer", I should have said "since the time of the earliest extant debates over the interpretation of Homer".)

My reference to the text's "originary moments" was meant to highlight the fact that the text is a product of an intentionalist activity, and indeed is assumed, by its author, that it will convey his/her intention to its readers (more or less successfully, depending on the author's and readers' abilities). To treat a text's meaning as residing elsewhere than in its author's intentions is to treat it according to canons separate from those that brought it into existence. This is the act of rearbitrating the definition of a text that I mentioned. Such an act would certainly need to be justified, and I have yet to see an argument that does so on reasonably convincing grounds.

By "hermeneutic closure", I was referring to the notion, common among many postmodernists, that we can text fit the author-text-reader line of principals with different understandings of the object-subject relationship, until we find one that allows us to define the idea of a failed reading out of existence. My point is that this sort of exercise is not done on logical grounds at all, but rather according to the dictates of wishful thinking.

In my view: Yes, poeisis *does* stop when the author thinks he/she has finished inscribing his/her intention. I don't think the unavailability of writing in a given era makes a difference--intention doesn't change according to whether it's voiced orally or textually.

John,

I know you asked about the "earliest debates" over Homer. That's why I asked about them. But...again...who was doing the debating? And I understood what you meant in regards to whether or not some acutal "Homer" was the real author.

As for "closure", I am not one to think that a text can have ANY meaning. But I was referring to "closure" as "de-fin-ition", a word that you like to use a lot. If the "author" (the human one) defines the text, and not only that but if he does so with his "originary intentions", then he is the "alpha and the omega" of it. Which means he is the god of his text. Hence the referenced hubris.

Are you saying that you and I (and our "intentions") are the Ground of language? Because you don't seem to be saying that language is Groundless. Instead you seem to be saying that my intetnions are the grounds of my texts. But I am not a ground. I stand on one. And on top of that you stand on the same ground, so far as I understand.

And its interesting that in your view poesis stops when the author finishes inscribing his or her intention. First of all that is Deistic...which is modern. Secondly, that wasn't what I asked. I asked if poesis stops when the photograph or book is finished being PRINTED. Is printing not making? Intending is the only making? Or are you and Hirsch not talking about making at all (but instead someing more analytic, like photography)?...which would be very very modern.

Hi Jon and Jason,

Jason, I think that you are I are more or less on the same page in this conversation, so I'll address most of this to Jon. Thanks for your helpful comments.

Hi Jon,

Thanks also for your comments. First, it might be helpful to consider Augustine’s approach in Confessions book XII. Though Augustine states that he and others strive after the author’s intention, yet he also claims that it is not only possible but quite acceptable that true meanings manifest that go beyond the mens auctoris. The kind of hermeneutical practices in which Augustine (and the medievals) as well as the patristic pre-modern tradition engage where the idea of an excess of meaning is completely acceptable and the meaning of a text is not solely restricted to the intention of the author strikes me as having much in common with Gadamer and not so much in common with modern hermeneutical practices like Hirsch’s (also keep in mind that in my post, I regularly qualify my statements about authorial intention, noting that in Gadamer’s approach to reproduce the author’s intention is not the “sole” purpose of interpretation).

You write: “To speak of a text as possessing an ‘excess of meaning’ beyond the author's intention is to define what a text is in isolation from its orginary moments, which amounts to an arbitrary redefinition of a preexisting given.”

I think that you are right to point out that someone like Hirsch and someone like Gadamer and certain postmoderns and premoderns have different views of what the text itself is (and well as what reality itself is, but that's another discussion). For Gadamar the text itself is part of tradition as is its authors, though it may have a primary author. Given that Gadamer often appeals to works of art to elucidate his hermeneutical views, let’s consider the follow musical example (by way of E. Cone) where the score functions like a text and performances of the score are intepretations. First of all, is it the case that the composer himself/herself fully grasps his/her intentions or is it possible that places of indeterminacy might exist in his/her own text/composition? E.g., Mozart would at times perform different versions of the same piece to a group of friends in order to seek their input as to which version they thought best. Having performed in several jazz orchestras and dabbled in jazz composition myself, I find this claim rather convincing. It was often the case that our director, who was an accomplished composer and arranger, would present us with his scores and then during the rehearsal time, numerous changes would be made—changes that he could not foresee until the actual music appeared. Clearly, he had a definite intention of how he wanted the piece to sound, yet the various intricacies of tempo, dynamics, and so forth were not solidified.

But what about after all these things are made more precise and we have the written score--is it the case that at that point the work is finished? Contemporary music theorist, Edward Cone, however, raises a number of interesting questions about the degree and range of this supposed all-encompassing authority of the written score. According to Cone, it is impossible for the written score to capture everything that the composition is not to mention what occurs via performances. Although Cone is quick to acknowledge the importance of the written score in classical music for the purposes of the musical performance (as Gadamer recognizes the importance of the text for the purpose of interpretation), as well as the obligation that the performer has to the score, yet, he is also cognizant of (1) the difficulties of establishing an accurate score, and (2) the fact that performance always involves interpretation. Commenting of the difficulties of establishing a “canonic text” of the music of Chopin, Cone writes, “The performer’s first obligation, then, is to the score—but to what score? The autograph or the first printed edition? The composer’s hasty manuscript or the presumably more careful copy by a trusted amanuensis? The composer’s initial version or his later emendation? The first German edition or the first French edition? An original edition or one supposedly incorporating the composer’s instructions to his pupils. Those involved in the attempt to establish a canonic text of Chopin’s works face all those decisions” (“The Pianist as Critic,” p. 244). All of these questions seem to me directed related to many of Gadamer’s concerns (e.g. role of translators in the passing on of texts—translating after all always involves interpretation). But more to the point given our current conversation--even after interpretive decisions as to which manuscript or edition have been made, we still have to deal with the issue of the conductor’s, as well as the performer’s interpretation of the score. Here we see that accurate and excessive notation does not in itself remove the difficulties in view. The written notation is only an approximation of what actually occurs in a musical performance. “In fact, it is exactly the space cleared by that approximation, an area of indeterminacy, that is the locus of the performer’s prime interpretative activity. […] The realization of any score thus requires decisions at every point” (Cone, p. 245). Cone’s observations push us to grapple with the various ways in which manuscript editors, conductors, and performers play a role in the actualization of the music as it appears to us. Stated slightly differently, if it is the case that performers, conductors and arrangers in some genuine sense continue to compose a work through their various additions, deletions and interpretations, then can we really say that a work is ever “finished?” This idea of on-going composition strikes me as having something in common with Gadamer’s hermeneutical insight that texts always exhibit an “excess of meaning” upon which tradition builds. Elucidating his position, Gadamer writes: “Every age has to understand a transmitted text in its own way, for the text belongs to the whole tradition whose content interests the age and in which it seeks to understand itself. The real meaning of a text, as it speaks to the interpreter, does not depend on the contingencies of the author and his original audience. It certainly is not identical with them, for it is always co-determined also by the historical situation of the interpreter and hence by the totality of the objective course of history. […] Not just occasionally but always, the meaning of a text goes beyond its author. That is why understanding is not merely a reproductive but always a productive activity as well.” (Hans-Georg Gadamer, Truth and Method, 2nd ed. trans. and revised Joel Weinsheimer and Donald G. Marshall (New York: Continuum, 2004), p. 296).

Though I would want to say that the “original” composers certainly have some definite intentions with regard to their compositions, but how extensive those intentions are is another issue. Also, the fact that composers may not even be cognizant of places of indeterminacy in their own compositions until the music is actually performed suggests that a determinate intention, though having some definiteness to it, may also “contain” what we might call a kind of built-in-flexibility (i.e. something like or at least related to Cone’s places of indeterminacy) that allows for various manifestations of a piece while keeping its identity intact.

My apologies for such a long comment. It is likely that I won't have time to contribute much more to this dialogue so I wanted to attempt at least one substantive comment. I'll let Jason (and others) take over from here!

Best wishes,
Cynthia

thanks cynthia...good stuff...

john...what sayest thou to that crazy, loony, illogical and groundless St. Augustine? :)

and for the sake of clarity i don't think ANYONE (Gadamer, Cynthia, Linge or myself) is saying that an intentionalist hermeneutic is "per se" a modern development. I think all of us are suggesting that a purely intentionalist hermeneutic is part of the whole that constitutes a certain "modernity", WHEN taken in context of said whole. outside of the context of the the "whole" of the "modernity" in question, the intentionalist hermeneutic in and of itself is a clue that asks us to qeustion where it came from, an icon pointing to a bigger rose window opening to the oppressive heavenly lights of the Enlightenment, a stone body part glued to the wise and gracious statue of a pagan idol, a...a...ok you get the point.

and also for clarification...on the "'excess of meaning' beyond the author's intention...which amounts to an arbitrary redefinition of a preexisting given." my questions to you about the Ground were precisely in reference to a very not-arbitrary pre-existing "given." if you ask me, an intentionalist hermeneutic amounts to the development of a world and way of being that is groundless and tied to the winds of individual circumstances for reasons that are not arbitrary but selfish. interestingly "historically" what we now take to be the "grounds" of the more purely itnetionalist hermeneutic arose at about the same time that humans came to occupy the foreground of perspective paintings (which also interestingly occured at first mostly in the form of political propanda). so now we're talking about one hermeneutic based on the Ground and one based on an individual's "intentions". which would you say is more engaged in "wishful thinking"?

now...you said..."to treat a text's meaning as residing elsewhere than in the author's intentions is to treat it according to cannons separate from those that brought it into existence." here i would say that that is simply and flatly not true. again, i will ask you to look down (and up) at the Ground, which was forgotten like 400 years ago so good luck finding it.

also considering "what brought the text into existence"...to Cynthia's point that we seem to have different views on what both the text and reality are in the first place...you seem to think that the text is purely representational and in no way acutal. in actual practicality that amounts to serious alienation. and as a kind of fun imaginative experiment, when taken to its extremem, it would mean that the text does not exist. how fun.

as for indeterminancy in composition...i heartily agree with Cynthia there. as an example i am reminded of where joe gibbs :) said that the game isn't about the x's and o's but its the players who play the game. or as an architect (that's me) an example would be the fact that construction documents are largely organized around the trades or crafts that go into the building of a building...you really don't actually know fully or deFINitively what the building will be like when you draw it up...or even AFTER its built (thanks to the forces of nature and the passing of time, which you also seem to ignore in your hermeneutical theory).

also John...above when I said: "I know you asked about the 'earliest debates' over Homer. That's why I asked about them. But...again...who was doing the debating? And I understood what you meant in regards to whether or not some acutal "Homer" was the real author."...

i did not mean to say "i know...i know...i know...so screw you." what i meant to say was "i know that was what you meant. we are on the same page there. i'm hoping to turn over to the next page and see where we are." specifically there in reference to the Homer stuff.

Cynthia and Jason,

Thank you both for your responses and your questions. I don't have much time at the moment, and I am leaving for the Grand Canyon on Saturday, but I'll briefly comment as best I can.

Cynthia, your comparison of the reception of a text to a musical composition that can be played in numerous ways is clear, but I'm not sure how it applies. I would not think that an author of an authoritative theological discussion (like Paul) would want his intended readers to read his letter in any way except the *one* way he meant for it to be read, and I don't see how it could possibly thought to be a legitimate reading if they did so. An author's implied rules for a fair reading of his/her text are quite unlike anything in the field of music. Music is not written, arranged, or performed for the sake of communicating knowledge, but rather for the sake of some other affective result. While certain parts of Scripture do indeed have an affective quality (and were written that way), the fact of the matter is that the Bible is filled with propositional statements about God. Moreover, the closer we get to the core of the New Testament's theology--that is, to the apostolic kerygma of the Christ event--the more formally propositional these statements become. (Yes, I do object to the anti-propositonal rhetoric that is common today. That rhetoric just doesn't make a lick of sense to me.)

I'm not going to touch your use of Augustine, because I have a quite different opinion of Augustine than you do. (I don't think he understood Paul's letters very well at all. I'll admit that I'm a Pelagian, as I think Pelagius's account of Paul better grasps what Paul meant. I suppose this issue could be a good test case for the question of whether reading *correctly* means [as I claim] reading according to the *author's intent*. What did *Paul* mean when he wrote Romans 5:12? Is it legitimate to interpret that verse contrary to Paul's intention?) I'll just say that I briefly researched Augustine's view of authorial intention a few years ago, and discovered that three times in book 2 of *On Christian Doctrine*, Augustine noted that the first task of any interpreter of texts is to find what the author meant. His qualifications of that task, with respect to reading the Bible in particular, are based on his view that God is the ultimate author of the Bible.

Jason, as for your questions about the "Ground of language", and whether texts have "Grounds" at all, I would say that they have the same ground in the intention of their author as my spoken statements have in me when I speak them. Apart from an author, words have no meaning. (My view on Knapp and Michaels's question about sand digs that spell out an apparent message, but which are purely coincidental [*viz.* not the product of intelligence], is that the apparent message isn't really a message at all. Knapp and Michaels hold the contrary, but I failed to discern any real *argument* for their view.) In brief, I don't accept the linguistic turn. Grammatical rules tell us how we *should* use language if we want to communicate successfully, but if I say "I ain't got no honey mustard sauce", meaning to convey that I don't have *any* honey mustard sauce, then the meaning of what I said lies in what I intended and not in the grammatical aspect of my words (which, containing a double negative, would *grammatically* imply the opposite of what I meant). To my mind, the burden of proof is on anyone who supposes that language is anything more than a medium for communication. I've seen lots of arguments that were supposed to established a more-than-functional view of language, but in every case the arguments appeared to be circular in one way or another (e.g., they often made their case by shifting the meaning of a key term [like "meaning"] in the middle of the argument).

John you just dropped a few bombs and I think I exploded. Having been blasted to bits I have lost my capacity for speech. With communication left as my only option, I have been rendered speechless.

...Jason and I like to complete each other's thoughts...so...

First of all, I think Jason forgot to say something. He wants me to let you know that he meant to mention that Pelagianism seems to marginilize Jesus. Of course placing the ever-prevalent Me in the center in his place.

OK I'm back. That would seem to explain the back-text of this conversation. OK.

To you points. I suppose its true that music isn't performed for the sake of "communicating knowledge" (at least most music), but it is also true, however, that music is a form of knowing. For example, taking your premise that music is performed "for the sake of some other affective result," how does the musician know what effect(s) it will or might have on the audience? It would surely be absurd to suggest that the audience, being good law abiding citizens/audience members that they are, caters their reactions to the supposed intentions of the musicsian. Again, the "reason" for a particular reaction is found in the Ground of our being, which just so happens to be strongly connected to the Ground of the music.

As for the ground of language...you said "I woudl say that [texts] have the same ground in the intentino of their author as my spoken statements have in me when I speak them." But the problem with that statement is that the Ground isn't IN you, but instead you are ON it. In modernity, and especially in your intentionalist argument, figure and ground get mapped over each other.

Now on your speil on messages..."sand digs that spell out an apparent message, but which are purely coincidental...not the product of intelligence...is that the apparent message isn't really a message at all." OK but since they are much more numerous and all encompassing, lets focus on examples where there are messages but no SIGNS (here I use "significance" differently from Hirsch, of course)...what is an angel? Oops sorry that last question sounded like something more like what Jason would say. See I told you he and I like to sort of complete each other's thoughts.

Now you also said: "the burden of proof is on anyone who supposes that language is anything more than a medium for communication." OK. "Let there be light." There. That was quick and easy. Sweet :)

Oh and Jason says he forgot to say something else, too. He asked me to relay the following..."Communication has no means. The medium of the means were bombed to bits."

John...in Raphael's crucifixion...

http://www.abcgallery.com/R/raphael/raphael2.html

...does the red symbolize love, violence or sacrafice? or does it just a sign to communicate that Jesus must have been wearing red around his privates at that "originary moment" when he was crucified? or is it a toss up in that regard, since we don't know either raphael's intentions in that regard (but that Jesus probably wasn't wearing red around his privates)...so then we just go with the "emotional affect" of red on our psyche and say that red is meant to be stimulating and exciting, thus attracting attention to the painting (or something along those lines)?

so then one more question. when we speak, do we use our imagination? in other words, do we have images in mind when speaking (or writing)?

Let me briefly clarify one thing from Jason's "twin": regarding the remark "Pelagianism seems to marginilize Jesus", this seems to be based on Augustine's inaccurate representation of Pelagianism, rather than on Pelagianism itself. Augustine charges Pelagius with thinking that humans can save themselves, but Pelagius thought nothing of the sort. The misunderstanding comes from Augustine's supposition that the fundamental human predicament is sin guilt, while Pelagius supposed that the fundamental human predicament is death.

at death you return to the Ground. but with sin the Ground is both more difficult to cultivate and suddenly accepting of us into its shadows.

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    ...posts here will range from brief “airing of ideas” and the “trying on” of particular theories or critical positions, to longer arguments or analyses soliciting critical responses from readers, all with an eye toward the actual issues confronting church pastors and leaders, rather than the merely academic hair-splitting of abstract issues.

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