Tag Archives: Rhetoric

Measure for Measure, Human Nature, and Original Sin

26 Friday Feb 2021

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Claudio to Lucio

From too much liberty, my Lucio, liberty.

As surfeit is the father of much fast,

So every scope by the immoderate use

Turns to restraint. Our natures do pursue,

Like rats that ravin down their proper bane,

A thirsty evil, and when we drink, we die.

Measure for Measure, Act I, ii, 122-127.

These lines are fascinating from a few perspectives. First, they present a theme (perhaps  the theme) of the play. But I am interested in the structure of this short argument, and it works both make a logical case and an affective case. It would be hard to make such a compressed and persuasive argument in such few words. 

Background on the lines. 

Claudio is being led through the street as a prisoner. Lucio, a friend, sees him and asks what he has done. Lucio has been making sexually charged jokes about prostitutes and disease with some acquaintances and with a pimp and a madam. 

Claudio has been arrested for fornication. He got his fiancée pregnant (they were holding off on a dowery increase). The very strict and straightlaced interim ruler has enforced a law which the Duke (now “absent”) had allowed to go unheeded.

Claudio has been taken for the excess of his sexual behavior. Interestingly, Angelo, the interim ruler will face his own sexual politics and will be caught in the same vein as Claudio.

This short speech consists of three elements: First, a direct, albeit cryptic answer:

From too much liberty, my Lucio, liberty.

Second: an observation of the general movement of human life. This is the pattern I followed to be destroyed:

As surfeit is the father of much fast,

So every scope by the immoderate use

Turns to restraint. 

Third: an explanation of the psychological process which gives rise to the pattern of human behavior.

                                    Our natures do pursue,

Like rats that ravin down their proper bane,

A thirsty evil, and when we drink, we die.

First, the answer:

Question (Lucio):

Why, how now, Claudio? Whence comes this restraint?

Answer:

From too much liberty, my Lucio, liberty.

Lucio does not know what this means and will directly ask if it was murder.

The line is well constructed:

From too much LIBerty, my LUcio, LIBerty.

I’m not sure what to do with the other syllables: The accent could fall any of the other words, thus giving a different nuance of meaning. Why is clear is the alliteration on the L (and m: much, my). The L will drop out of the rest of the speech underscoring the use here. 

The answer is ironic: he speaks of liberty and that is precisely what he does not have. The nature of the liberty is unclear.

The characters have just been speaking of the bawdy houses being torn down, so the background of liberty and immorality in play.  Liberty and constraint will be a theme which will work out. 

In the next scene, the Duke will explain himself to a friar. There were many laws which the Duke had failed to enforce. He has left his position so that Angelo can reinstate and apply those laws. He explains the effect his failure to enforce laws has had:

For terror, not to use – in time the rod

More mocked than feared – so our decrees,

Dead to infliction, to themselves are dead,

And liberty plucks justice by the nose,

The baby beats the nurse, and quiet athwart 

Goes all decorum

I.3. xxvii-xxxii.

So a liberty which counters order and justice is an issue which the play will consider.

Second, the observation:

This is stated in the form of a natural law, like gravity:

As surfeit is the father of much fast,

So every scope by the immoderate use

Turns to restraint. 

Claudio notes a principle of human life: an excess ends in its opposite so as to bring balance. This principle of balance is a theme throughout Shakespeare and takes its origin from the Galen theory of humors and the need to balance humors in the body.

The physician’s task was to diagnose which humor was out of balance; treatment then focused on restoring equilibrium by diet or by reducing the offending, out-of-balance humor by evacuating it.

(For the theory in Shakespeare see here: ):

This statement of a natural principle and pattern is exactly 2.5 lines long. It will be matched by another line of 2.5 lines. 

There is a light alliteration which holds the lines together: S & F: Surfeit, Scope, Father- Fast. The R in the final word will tie these lines to the following.

The use of the word father is ironic: Claudio’s “fast”, his imprisonment is because he is a father. 

And so far we have moral principle: excessive liberty leads to restraint. A principle of medicine and psychology: when one aspect of human life (a humor) is in excess, a contrary principle must be put into place to bring balance. 

This leads to a question: If balance and order are the good which we should seek to achieve, then what would bring a human being to act beyond moderation?

Third: The psychological process:

                        Our natures do pursue,

Like rats that ravin down their proper bane,

A thirsty evil, and when we drink, we die.

This is a deeply Christian observation. It has to do with the concept of original sin. Original sin is often reduced to, guilt for a wrong I did not commit. (See, Finnegans Wake). Article 9 of the 39 Articles of the Church of England reads:

Original sin is not found merely in the following of Adam’s example (as the Pelagians foolishly say). It is rather to be seen in the fault and corruption which is found in the nature of every person who is naturally descended from Adam. The consequence of this is that man is far gone from his original state of righteousness. In his own nature he is predisposed to evil, the sinful nature in man always desiring to behave in a manner contrary to the Spirit. In every person born into this world there is fund this predisposition which rightly deserves God’s anger and condemnation. This infection within man’s nature persists even within those who are regenerate. This desire of the sinful nature, which in Greek is called fronema sarkos and is variously translated the wisdom or sensuality or affection or desire of the sinful nature, is not under control of God’s law. Although there is no condemnation for those that believe and are baptized, nevertheless the apostle states that any such desire is sinful. 

Look back at Claudio’s explanation: the fault springs from our “nature”.  Now consider carefully the article:

It is rather to be seen in the fault and corruption which is found in the nature of every person who is naturallydescended from Adam. The consequence of this is that man is far gone from his original state of righteousness. In his own nature he is predisposed to evil, the sinful nature in man always desiring to behave in a manner contrary to the Spirit…. This infection within man’s nature persists even within those who are regenerate. This desire of the sinful nature,

Our “natures pursue” their own destruction by a compulsion “man is always desiring”.

Our nature is like a rat – which is a striking image – that ravin: ravin is an act of rapine, it is a greedy, thoughtless criminal desire and action – ravin down poison: a “proper bane,” that is, my own poison, the poison that is “proper” to me. It is a “thirsty evil”: it is never satisfied, never quenched. Moreover, this desire is such that fulfilling it brings its own destruction:

When we drink, we die.

Musically, the lines are held together by the use of R which picks up the R in restraint found in Lucio’s question and in the middle of Claudio’s answer:

Restraint – restraint – rats that ravin.

We have pursue-proper. And finally, drink-die.

The use of this imagery to illustrate and explain the psychological process which leads to self-destruction is very effective. It would have even more to the point for the original audience, who were faced constantly with the menace and evil of filthy rats. 

There is one final point in this observation: Shakespeare is condemning the audience along with the character’s self-condemnation. He is making a categorical statement about humanity: Our nature. When we drink, we die. 

Which means that as we read this, we are drawn into the scope of the play. It is our nature, our drinking, our death.

George Swinnock, The Christian Man’s Calling, 1.4b

25 Thursday Feb 2021

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This is a continuation of working through George Swinnock’s The Godly Man’s Picture. The previous post on this may be found here. In this post I primarily look at the introductory exhortation to pursue godliness with industry. It is a remarkable rhetorical exercise, demonstrating a great mastery over language. It is the sort of language which would make someone from a far future culture wonder if this constitutes “poetry”, in that the language is so compressed and controlled. Not only do I find such control of language fascinating, I also think that a great deal of preaching and teaching in the church would be improved by a greater ability to express propositions not merely with theological accuracy, but also with a passion which matches the content and helps the listener both understand and apply the exhortation. When the expression of the truth contradicts the purpose and content of the truth, we actually make it harder for the turth to have the desired effect. Yes, God can use the most incompetent speaker; but there is no reason we should strive to maximize our incompetence.

B.        Pursue Godliness With Industry:

1.         He is laborious in his efforts

2.         He takes advantage of all opportunity to be godly.

Secondly, To make religion one’s business, containeth [includes the concept] to pursue it with industry in our conversations. 

He then follows this proposition up with an expansion of the concept. I have broken it down by clauses and grouping so that the overall structure of this exhortation can be seen clearly. I will note the rhetorical elements below

A man that makes his calling his business 

is not lazy, but laborious about it; 

what pains will he take! 

what strength will he spend! 

how will he toil and moil at it early and late! 

The tradesman, 

the husbandman, 

eat not the bread of idleness, 

when they make their callings their business; 

if they be good husbands, 

they are both provident to observe their seasons, 

and diligent to improve them for their advantage; 

they do often even dip their food in their sweat, 

and make it thereby the more sweet. 

Their industry appears in working hard in their callings, 

and in improving all opportunities for the furtherance of their callings.

The rhetoric. This passage is extremely well constructed. He uses a variety devices to make the exhortation stirring and interesting. He does not over use one device. As you will see, he doubles but does not triple. We will start at the first stanza:

A man that makes his calling his business 

is not lazy, but laborious about it; 

The first line: Alliteration: man … makes . It is also iambic a MAN that MAKES. 

There is then the repetition of the his in parallel phrase “his business his calling” 

The second line is structured like a line of Anglo-Saxon poetry: there is a major break in the line. One either side of the break there is a strong accent which is matched by an alliterative strong accent on the other side of the line: is not LAZY, but LABORIOUS. The line is further helped by the lack of an “is” before Laborious. A perfectly parallel line would read, “is not lazy, but is laborious”. By dropping the “is”, the line gains speed and power. There is then the near rhyme: laborious about it. If you drop the “l” is it aborious about it. There is finally the “b” which marks the two line end words: “business/about”

Second stanza:

what pains will he take! 

what strength will he spend! 

how will he toil and moil at it early and late! 

The first two lines are near repetitions:

WHAT pains WILL HE take

WHAT strength WILL HE spend. 

Note also that “p” “t” are both plosives. Thus, will note a strict alliteration, it does create a parallel sound.  In the second line we have an alliterative “s” with a reversal of the order of the plosives. Note the structure of the sounds in the words which were not duplicated:

P   – T

ST- SP

In the third line we read:

how will he toil and moil at it early and late! 

Moil is a now-archaic word, which means work or drudgery and was common in this stock phrase, “toil and moil”. Looking at the Google N-gram, the word was quite rare in 1800, being primary found in dictionaries. By 1820, the word seems to have disappeared altogether. 

This third line repeats and rephrases the previous two lines in concept: the laborer will work very hard. But here he balances the line by means two stock phrases “toil and moil/early and late”. By running out this longer line and adding in the stock phrases, he slows the entire movement of the passage down. It has the effect of giving the reader’s “ear” a rest. 

In the third stanza he creates an “if-then” structure:

if they be good husbands, 

they are both provident to observe their seasons, 

and diligent to improve them for their advantage; 

they do often even dip their food in their sweat, 

and make it thereby the more sweet. 

The “then” conclusions are each a pair of clauses, both of which are marked with a “they”: they are both/they do often. The “if” clause likewise pivots on the word “they” If they be.

they are both provident to observe their seasons, 

and diligent to improve them for their advantage; 

they do often even dip their food in their sweat, 

and make it thereby the more sweet. 

The first of these paired clauses are both three beat lines: provident-observe-seasons/diligent-improve-advantage. The opening beat: provident/diligent rhyme which further strengths the parallel.

The second then clause: What is most striking if the near-rhyme: sweat/sweet. I don’t know precisely how Swinnock would have pronounced these words, but it is possible there were even closer in sound when he spoke them. In the first line there is the repeated “d” including the addition of the unnecessary “do” they DO often even DIP their fooD.

The final stanza is not nearly so musical as the previous stanzas: the lines are longer the effects are less. These two lines are marked by concluding both lines with the same phrase “their callings” (I have not named all the various effects. This particular device is called “epistrophe”. The names and uses of these devices can be found at the excellent webpage: http://rhetoric.byu.edu)

Their industry appears in working hard in their callings, 

and in improving all opportunities for the furtherance of their callings.

Some observations on a paragraph from Addison

01 Tuesday Sep 2020

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Here is a paragraph from Richard Addison

Thus I live in the World, rather as a Spectator of Mankind, than as one of the Species; by which means I have made my self a Speculative Statesman, Soldier, Merchant, and Artizan, without ever medling with any Practical Part in Life. I am very well versed in the Theory of an Husband, or a Father, and can discern the Errors in the Oeconomy, Business, and Diversion of others, better than those who are engaged in them; as Standers-by discover Blots, which are apt to escape those who are in the Game. I never espoused any Party with Violence, and am resolved to observe an exact Neutrality between the Whigs and Tories , unless I shall be forcd to declare myself by the Hostilities of either side. In short, I have acted in all the parts of my Life as a Looker-on, which is the Character I intend to preserve in this Paper.

There are so many wonderful things about this quotation Addison in the first number of The Spectator March 1711

Consider

Thus I live in the World,

rather as a Spectator of Mankind,

than as one of the Species;

The “rather” sets an anticipated contrast. Contemporary style is for the immediate comparison. We would “rather than”, but here Addison breaks the contrast into two balanced clauses with an anticipation of the contrast. Notice also that the “s” of “species” recounts the “s” of “spectator”. The contrast begins with spectator and ends with species. The rhythm, sense, and sound all work together.

He gets the added benefit of “spectator” being the name of the paper for which Addison was writing.

Notice how he continues with the alliteration on the “s”

by which means

I have made my self

a Speculative Statesman,

Soldier,

This is a matter of taste and I cannot think of any certain rule, because he stops after self, speculative (which harkens back to spectator), statesman, and soldier. There is a ambiguity in the sense, because what is a spectator soldier – a speculative statesman is anyone of the bores on social media shouting an opinion without any real authority.

Notice what he does here with the sounds:

Merchant,

and Artizan,

without ever medling with any Practical Part in Life.

The m of merchant and meddling, artisan and any, which creates a patterned echo.

The “and” before artisan draws the list to a close.

The final life then breaks up the proceeding patterns of sound

With the Practical Part in Life.”

The concept is silly in their is no spectator merchant or soldier or artisan – unless he never acts.

We now come to the professional pundit:

I am very well versed in the Theory of an Husband, or a Father, and can discern the Errors in the Oeconomy, Business, and Diversion of others,

He does nothing but knows what is wrong with everything. This is the status of the internet: because he does not merely observe, but he also knows why everyone who is leading an actual life is doing the wrong thing.

The charm of Addison’s point of view is that it is ironic and detached without being unkind. In fact in this lovely prose, he is teasing only himself.

Thus there is a patterned irony: he is posing as a gadfly who is weirdly without the ability to see his own deficiency as he promises to critique others.

But the entire the standing is a pose which the real author is mocking.

This playful position itself comes in an essay where he is promising to tell the truth about his status as an author. The essay begins with the promise

I HAVE observed, that a Reader seldom peruses a Book with Pleasure ’till he knows whether the Writer of it be a black or a fair Man, of a mild or cholerick Disposition, Married or a Batchelor, with other Particulars of the like nature, that conduce very much to the right Understanding of an Author. To gratify this Curiosity, which is so natural to a Reader, I design this Paper, and my next, as Prefatory Discourses to my following Writings, and shall give some Account in them of the several persons that are engaged in this Work. As the chief trouble of Compiling, Digesting, and Correcting will fall to my Share, I must do myself the Justice to open the Work with my own History.

Aesthetic Judgment and Persuasion (Wittgenstein)

19 Tuesday May 2020

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In a 1983 article published in Crítica, Richard Shusterman examples Wittgenstein’s doctrine indeterminacy in aesthetic value and the work of critical evaluation. At first, this may seem rather remote from the matter of persuasion, but Shusterman rightly notes that the work of a critic (literary, musical, dramatic) is a work of persuasive rhetoric. In fact, Shusterman notes a passage in Wittgenstein’s Lectures and Conversations where he equates the nature of legal argument with the rhetorical procedure of a critic. As a lawyer, I can affirm correctness of Wittgenstein on this point.
Briefly, Shusterman notes three ways in which an aesthetic judgment is indeterminate.
Perhaps under the pressure from natural sciences and their seeming claim to indisputable truth, objective and eternal as a sort of sight of Platonic Forms, non-physical sciences beginning in the 19th century often sought to stylize themselves along “scientific” lines. Theology and literary criticism were taken up as sciences (in the sense of chemistry or physics).
A movement was made to formalize aesthetics in terms of deductive and inductive argument. If you have ever seen Dead Poets Society, the introduction from the beginning of the poetry book on how to graph the quality of a poem – which the new literature teacher has the students tear from their book – is a perfect example.
Wittgenstein critiques such deductive and inductive evaluations of art on the ground that the necessary grounds for evaluation have a degree of flux (Shusterman calls this “radical indeterminacy”, but I think he overshoots the mark; there is however a relative indeterminacy without question).

First, the basic concepts of balance and beauty do not have hard edges. Second, the work of the critic depends upon what sort of question the critic is asking (Wittgenstein’s concept of “game”). Thus, a critic who considers Hamlet psychological or the emotive or the political or metaphysical work will come to different conclusions. (Merrill Tenney’s book on Galatians is an example of how to perform this sort of critical evaluation. I also just realized that I have lent this book to someone and now I can’t find my copy.) Third, evaluations of beauty and art take place in a larger cultural context.
When we come to the contemporary period (granted Shusterman is writing 40 years ago; but the situation is even more extreme at present than then), the cultural context does not provide a universal scheme in which we can make a deductively valid and sound argument: who can say whether the premises are true.
What then does a literary critic do in such an environment? The critic cannot present “a nice knock-down argument for you.”
The critic’s work in this environment is thus to bring you to see the work from a particular point of view:

Validity is success, success in inducing the desired perception of the work, if not the desired critical verdict. He held that ‘aesthetic discussions were like discussion in a court of law’, where the goal and criterion of success is that ‘what you say will appeal to the judge.’ Elsewhere, Wittgenstein suggests that the criterion for adequacy of argument and correctness of explanation is acceptance or satisfaction. ‘The answer in these cases is the one that satisfied you.’ ‘That explanation is the right one which clicks,’ and is accepted by the interlocutor; ‘if he didn’t agree, this wouldn’t be the explanation.’

Richard Shusterman, “Aesthetic Argument and Perceptual Persuasion,” Critica 15, no. 45 (Dec. 1983): 51-74.
There is an important point: a deductive or inductive argument is not persuasive in some manner abstracted from the person who hears the argument. A deductive argument only works if it persuades the hearer in the direction intended by the speaker (it is possible that the deductive argument merely annoys the hearer and you have merely persuaded him to dislike you).
Thus, the work of the critic is to bring you see the artwork from a particular perspective: I seek to have you understand this poem, this painting as I do. When you see it as I see it, my literary criticism has been “worked.”
If anything, legal persuasion falls into this category even more than literary criticism. The lawyer seeks to bring the court to see the world from the perspective of the client.
Wittgenstein also notes that science functions in a similar manner:

Wittgenstein in fact suggests that such persuasion is also present in science. For instance, it underlies our firm and ready acceptance of the theories of Darwin and Freud, even when the grounds for their doctrines were in strictly logical terms of confirmation ‘extremely thin.’ We have been largely persuaded by the attraction of looking at things the way these theories present them.

Subsequent research into things such as confirmation bias only strengthen this insight. The strength of an argument – even a scientific argument – ultimately lies in the fact that it persuades: it causes one to see the world from a particular point of view.
Shusterman goes to offer a correction to those who take Wittgenstein further than is warranted. While literary criticism may be to bring you see a work from a particular perspective (and thus perhaps is the intended – and not always successful — end of all argument), that does not mean that deductive and inductive arguments are illegitimate.
Since arguments exist in the context of “conventions”, the “conventions” may permit or even dictate the use of deductive or inductive aesthetic judgment. Thus, “logical” arguments are not wrong even in the case of aesthetics. They just may not be effective (as determined by the intent of the one making the argument).

Finally, this understanding of persuasion as seeing the world from a particular perspective helps explain why certain ideas will be particularly difficult to change. When we ask someone to give up a certain perspective, they must not only give up the particular idea under review, they also must give up their conclusions on all of the world as seen from that perspective. Certain ideas form the context and basis for a worldview.

It is one thing to change a window on the second floor; it is quite another to tear our the foundation on the entire high-rise.

Spurgeon’s Preaching: Figures of Repetition

29 Monday Oct 2018

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I affirm, and the Word declares it, unbelief is a sin. Surely with rational and unprejudiced persons, it cannot require any reasoning to prove it. 

Is it not a sin for a creature to doubt the word of its Maker? 

Is it not a crime and an insult to the Divinity, for me, an atom, a particle of dust, to dare to deny his words? 

Is it not the very summit of arrogance and extremity of pride for a son of Adam to say, even in his heart, “God I doubt thy grace; God I doubt thy love; God I doubt thy power?” 

Oh! sirs believe me, could ye roll all sins into one mass,—

could you take 

murder, 

and blasphemy, 

and lust, adultery, and fornication, 

and everything that is vile, 

and unite them all into one vast globe of black corruption, 

they would not equal even then the sin of unbelief. 

This is the monarch sin, 

the quintessence of guilt; 

the mixture of the venom of all crimes;

 the dregs of the wine of Gomorrha; 

it is the A-1 sin, 

the master-piece of Satan, 

the chief work of the devil.

 C. H. Spurgeon, “The Sin of Unbelief,” in The New Park Street Pulpit Sermons, vol. 1 (London: Passmore & Alabaster, 1855), 19.

Now let us consider the rhetorical parts. Although he argues for the proposition elsewhere in the sermon, here he seeks not make you think that unbelief is a sin; but rather, to make you feel that unbelief is a heinous sin. This section functions as an introduction into the catalogue of sins which flow from unbelief. 

Therefore, at this point, he raises the emotional strain so that you will willing consider the danger of this sin. 

First, he states the proposition: it does not require proof to know unbelief is a sin. Thus, it requires only a look at unbelief to realize it is a sin.

He first begins with a series of three questions, all which have the same introductory formula (Is it not ….). All three questions demand an emphatic “Yes!”

While the three questions are parallel, they also show development:

Part one:

The first question states the general proposition:

Is it not a sin for a creature to doubt the word of its Maker? 

The second question repeats the general proposition but it expands both parts

Is it not a crime and an insult to the Divinity, for me, an atom, a particle of dust, to dare to deny his words? 

“Sin” becomes “a crime and an insult to the Divinity”. “Creature” becomes “me, an atom, a particle of dust”. “Doubt” becomes “dare to deny”

The third repetition again expands the proposition.

Is it not the very summit of arrogance and extremity of pride for a son of Adam to say, even in his heart, “God I doubt thy grace; God I doubt thy love; God I doubt thy power?”

Here “sin” become “the very summit of arrogance and extremity of pride”. “Creature” becomes “a son of Adam”. The final element “doubt’ is expanded and is made concrete with a very particular three-part question:

to say, even in his heart, 

“God I doubt thy grace; 

God I doubt thy love; 

God I doubt thy power?”

Part Two A.

Second, he makes two forms of comparison. The first comparison entails a weighing of unbelief against all other sin. On one side he balls up all other other sins (“everything that is vile”) and says that unbelief is worse than the lot. Notice that he does not merely say use the conclusion, but he also makes a list of various sins. The list is three basic groups: violence, blasphemy, sexual immorality. The short list gives some depth and color to “everything that is vile”.

Part Two B

He then ends is a list of seven labels for the sin of unbelief. The list is broken up at 4-5 with a repetition of the verbal phrase “It is”. Each item on the list begins with “The” and includes the (implied) verb “is”. The last two lines are parallel substituting the emphatic titles (master-piece/chief work) and the owner (Satan).

Figures of repetition for emphasis are easily overdone. Spurgeon avoids that fault in a couple of ways. First, not every paragraph is this emphatic and repetitive. 

Second, he does not use one type of repetition (for instance merely repeating a list of synonyms for a final noun, “A sin, a crime, a rebellion”). He asks questions. He uses two types of labeling repetitions. 

Third, within the three forms employed, he creates variety. The three questions are parallel, but they vary in length and rhythm. The two labeling repetitions vary significantly between themselves in form. They also show rhythmic variation within the form. The first set of labels breaks into three distinct parts. The second labeling form has a break mid-way three, repeating the “it is” to gain control for the final couplet. 

Fourth, the repetitions are not bare repetitions of sound. He increases the sense. There is an increase in information as he moves along. For instance, in the first three questions he shows that doubt is both unthinkable for a creature (by emphasizing both the lowliness of the creature (“an atom”) and the rebelliousness of the creature (“a son of Adam”). He also notes that doubt does not require a great act of rebellion, it is an unspoken whisper in the heart which is sufficient to create the sin. 

While such rhetorical forms are not common in most preaching they are typically repetitions without point beyond emphasis. There is no development of the idea in the repetition of parallel nouns. The parallels were chosen often because they provide no change in the idea.

Toward and Exegetical Practical Theology, Joshua Clutterham

13 Friday Apr 2018

Posted by in Biblical Counseling, Theology of Biblical Counseling, Uncategorized

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Joshua Clutterham’s article in this edition of the Journal of Biblical Soul Care develops a point which is crucial to any effective pastoral work (and by that, I limit pastoral work to work which takes Scripture seriously). The Bible is not merely a book of facts and propositions (although it does contain such). The words are there not merely be read and recognized. The information does not exist merely so we can pass some hypothetical Bible knowledge trivia test. The words of the Bible are given to do something to us; to change us.

The Bible must not be merely thought of as a basis for systematic theology. Even preaching must not terminate in what the Scripture means as a proposition, but what that proposition does.  The Bible is given to not merely inform, but also to change people. This changing people is a matter of practical theology.

This matter of application is admitted by most preachers (indeed, many very bad sermons are merely a string of applications: Cheer – up! You’ll do great if you try!). There is another group who deliver an enormous volume of information, but with no point. Great, I can answer questions about the economy of Egypt, but I’m not sure why that matters.

The point of Bible’s information is to transform human beings in conduct, knowledge and affection: to make people different than they were before they read.

This matter of using the Bible to change people is also the purpose of counseling. And thus we should merely think of counseling as private exegetical practical theology. Preaching largely differs in the number of persons present.

What Joshua further proposes is that we take care to notice the rhetorical structure of the Scripture’s application: When we apply the text, we should note how the text functions and rely upon that rhetorical structure to help deliver the application. As Joshua writes, “We [must] consider the method of delivery of Scripture along with its meaning.”

The article itself is quite detailed. He develops and explains the rhetorical structure of the Scripture’s application — giving many examples and helps.  The article contains a number of proposals for future development, and explains the relationship between preaching and counseling.  This brief bit merely provides the slightest introduction to his work.

You can get your free subscription to the journal here:

http://www.masters.edu/jbsc

Epiphora

03 Friday Nov 2017

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More from Henry Peachum, The Garden of Eloquence (1593):

EPIPHORA.

Epiphora is a figure which endeth diverse members or clauses still with one and the same word.

An example: Since the tiem that concord was taken from the citie, libertie was taken away, fidelitie was taken away, friendship was taken away.

Examples of the holy Scripture: “When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I imagined as a child.”1.Cor.13.

Another: “Have we not prophecied in thy name? have we not cast out devils in they name? and done miracles in thy name?”Mat.

Ambition seeketh to be next to the best, after that, to be equall with the best: last, to be chiefe and above the best.

THE USE OF THIS FIGURE.

This figure is esteemed of many to be an ornament of great3 eloquence, yet it is very sparingly used in grave and severe4 causes, it serveth to leave a word of importance in the ende of a sentence, that it may the longer hold the sound in the mind of the hearer.

THE CAUTION.

It appeareth by experience that this figure is not commonly used by eloquent authors, but sparingly, and as it were thinly 5 sprinkled, as all exornations are, and therefore it ought not to be too much in use, if we desire to follow the examples of the most eloquent authors.

A most masterful use of this device is seen in The Merchant of Venice. The play hangs upon a courtroom scene. Portia, disguised as a lawyer, has saved the life of  Bassanio’s friend Antonio. At the end, this mystery lawyer asks of Bassanio the little ring “This ring, good sir — alas, it is a trifle”). Portia had given the ring to Bassanio as a token of her love:

I gave my love a ring and made him swear
Never to part with it; and here he stands;
I dare be sworn for him he would not leave it
Nor pluck it from his finger, for the wealth
That the world masters

Portia (who actually has the ring), demands to know what happened to the ring:

Even so void is your false heart of truth.
By heaven, I will ne’er come in your bed
Until I see the ring.

Since the ring is the focused of the conflict (it will be resolved), Shakespeare underscores the conflict by ending each line with “the ring”. Effect underscores the meaning:

BASSANIO
Sweet Portia,
If you did know to whom I gave the ring,
If you did know for whom I gave the ring
And would conceive for what I gave the ring
And how unwillingly I left the ring,
When nought would be accepted but the ring,
You would abate the strength of your displeasure.
PORTIA
If you had known the virtue of the ring,
Or half her worthiness that gave the ring,
Or your own honour to contain the ring,
You would not then have parted with the ring.
What man is there so much unreasonable,
If you had pleased to have defended it
With any terms of zeal, wanted the modesty
To urge the thing held as a ceremony?
Nerissa teaches me what to believe:
I’ll die for’t but some woman had the ring.

Remember Your Creator

16 Wednesday Nov 2016

Posted by in Ecclesiastes, Thomas Brooks, Uncategorized

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Remember also your Creator in the days of your youth, before the evil days come and the years draw near of which you will say, “I have no pleasure in them”;Ecclesiastes 12:1 (ESV)

‘Remember now thy Creator.’
Remember to know him,
remember to love him,
remember to desire him,
remember to delight in him,
remember to depend upon him,
remember to get an interest in him,
remember to live to him, and
remember to walk with him.

‘Remember now thy Creator;’ the Hebrew is Creators, Father, Son, and Spirit. To the making of man, a council was called in heaven, in the first of Genesis, and 26th verse. ‘Remember thy Creators:’

Remember the Father,
so as to know him,
so as to be inwardly acquainted with him.

Remember the Son,
so as to believe in him,
so as to rest upon him,
so as to embrace him, and
so as to make a complete resignation of thyself to him.

Remember the Spirit, so as to hear his voice,
so as to obey his voice,
so as to feel his presence, and
so as to experience his influence, &c.

‘Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth.’
He doth not say in the time of thy youth, but ‘in the days of thy youth,’ to note,
that our life is but as a few days.
It is but as a vapour,
a span,
a flower,
a shadow,
a dream;
and therefore Seneca saith well, that ‘though death be before the old man’s face, yet he may be as near the young man’s back,’ &c.

Man’s life is the shadow of smoke, the dream of a shadow.
One doubteth whether to call it a dying life, or a living death. (Aug. Confess. lib.i.)

Thomas Brooks, The Complete Works of Thomas Brooks, ed. Alexander Balloch Grosart, vol. 1, “Apples of Gold”, chapter 1 (Edinburgh; London; Dublin: James Nichol; James Nisbet and Co.; G. Herbert, 1866), 178–179.

The Pretense of Neutrality

27 Saturday Sep 2014

Posted by in Culture

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Every political argument makes a moral claim. This may seem like an obvious statement, but it is one that those who craft our political rhetoric seem determined to obscure. We are inclined to appeal to concepts such as tolerance and freedom—which are, of course, moral concepts—as if they are ways to avoid reflecting on the moral merits of the policies under consideration. In every case, this is either the unwitting burying or the willful disguising of one’s moral and philosophical commitments.

But not so much as he deserves

16 Monday Dec 2013

Posted by in Faith, Love, William Romaine

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“By him they expect a continual supply of all their temporal and spiritual needs, and therefore on him they would have their eyes ever fixed—looking unto Jesus. While by faith their eyes are kept steady upon him, they will be discovering something new in this wonderful God-man, and receiving something out of his fullness, to strengthen their hopes, and to inflame their affections. He will grow more lovely in their sight, fresh beauties will discover themselves, new worlds of delight will appear: for all the glories of heaven and earth shine in their fullest lustre in his person. The believer sees them at present: for by faith he can see him that is invisible, and although he has not such a perfect vision, as they have, who standing round his throne see him face to face, yet he hopes to enjoy it soon: and he has even now this peculiar pleasure in viewing the glories of his God and Saviour, that he can truly say of him–” this is my beloved, and my friend,” here I fix, and on him I rest; I want to look no where else for any good, since it all meets and centres in one object: for it hath pleased the Father and the eternal Spirit, that all fullness should dwell in the Son of God, and he is my beloved Saviour, and my dearest friend; he is the chief among ten thousand in my affection, yea he is altogether lovely. The more I live by faith upon him, the more I love him: for I experience such tender compassion in his heart, and such a kind concern for me and my interest, that the love of Christ constrains me to love him again. He endears his person to me by continual favours. I do love him, but not so much as he deserves, I would increase, and abound more and more in love to him, as his mercies increase and abound to me but a grateful sense of them, and love to him for them, are his own gifts, for which as well as for his mercies I must be content to be indebted to him for ever and ever. Lord shed more of thy precious love abroad in my heart: enlarge it in true affection to thee, and make all that is within me bless thy holy name.”

William Romaine, Treatise Upon the Life of Faith.

When compared with the self-centered drivel which often passes for preaching (I do not believe that the pulpit was better in Romaine’s day; good preachers are rare; great preachers are “rarer than radium” (Dylan Thomas’ wonderful line)), this paragraph (among) is a gem. Here are a few brief observations. Consider the first sentence:

By him they expect a continual supply of all their temporal and spiritual needs,
and therefore
on him they would have their eyes ever fixed—
looking unto Jesus.

Romaine constructs this sentence to further concept: by him, on him, looking unto Jesus. He then moves to develop the proposition, creating emotional content (not merely emotional affects) by repetition and development (in many ways the sentences are structured like Hebrew poetry. When laid out like verse on the page, it reads like the poetic from Whitman will later exploit):

While by faith their eyes are kept steady upon him,
they will be discovering something new in this wonderful God-man,
and receiving something out of his fullness,
to strengthen their hopes,
and to inflame their affections.
He will grow more lovely in their sight,
fresh beauties will discover themselves,
new worlds of delight will appear:
for all the glories of heaven and earth shine in their fullest lustre in his person.

Romaine effortlessly moves among doctrines, the sight of faith, the ultimate sight of God, hope, joy, love, the object of faith.

He weaves pastoral application in the doctrine and rhapsody:

The more I live by faith upon him,
the more I love him:
for I experience such tender compassion in his heart,
and such a kind concern for me and my interest,
that the love of Christ constrains me to love him again.

It is good counsel to note that love and faith flow from one to the other. It is not uncommon for one to complain that he feels very little love for Christ. Perhaps the trouble flows from very little faith in Christ.

Note also the structure: (1) Proposition, based upon experience, the I exercise faith, the more I love. (2) He repeats the proposition by means of amplification. ‘Live by faith’ becomes ‘experience such tender compassion in his heart and kind concern for me and my interest.” The love of the first proposition becomes “the love of Christ constrains me to love him again.”

He not only exhorts and teaches, he stops and prays in the midst of his teaching. Nothing in his prayer sounds artificial: it is spontaneous and flows directly from his instruction and application. It comes from both conviction (I do not love Christ sufficiently) and hope (and yet God will hear my prayer);

Lord shed more of thy precious love abroad in my heart: enlarge it in true affection to thee, and make all that is within me bless thy holy name.

I deeply appreciate that he speaks of the love of Christ without becoming maudlin, trite or affectionless. He states love held and desired, but he also gives content to that love.

Another aspect is the density of information. Romaine makes the information digestible by means of elegant writing, imagery, and emotional content; but he does not waste his words. Everything moves forward toward his goal of explaining and encouraging faith.