The Mixing of Forms

Amen, Amen, dico vobis: egomet sum via, et veritas, et ipsa vita.

“I am the Way, and the Truth, and the Life.”

This sentence is often analyzed as being a Platonic statement. At least, that is not said in so many words. But it is obvious from the interpretations that the general idea is that Christ is some kind of Form of the True, as well as a Form of the Good, Form of Loving, etc. In later theology, particularly in Augustine, we hear that God especially, since he is spirit, is the highest rung of everything ‘good’. He is the Form of all that is good in any way. However, while the claim Christ makes is far-reaching, it is wrong to interpret it as Platonic. In what sense Christ really is the “ipsa veritas” is a difficult question; but he is not a Platonic Form of the Truth.

This partly involves the definition of a Platonic Form. Platonic Forms, by their nature, are specific. The Form of a Man cannot be the Form of the Chair. By it’s very nature, a Form is specific. It is the perfection or definition of all things in its class, on which all things in its class are modeled. For instance, we recognize beings as men (according to the theory of Forms) by their resemblance to the Form of Manness. We do not recognize them by their resemblance, however, to the Form of Chairness, because the Forms are separate, and so are the classes that represent them. Consequently, the idea that the Form of Manness and the Form of Chairness could be combined into one Form is ridiculous. The Form would be neither the Form of Manness nor Chairness, and it would have no corresponding real objects. To mix two ideals produced a non-ideal. The Forms cannot be mixed.

Consequently, to say that Christ is the Form of the Truth is difficult to accept. How can someone be both the Form of the Truth and the Form of Love at the same time, for instance? By combining the Forms we destroy them. If Christ were the Form of the True and the Form of the Lovely at the same time, he would be neither, unless what is true is precisely the same as what is lovely. This seems to be a contradiction. We know that the True and the Lovely are indeed different. What is True is not always lovely, although the two qualities can coincide in one object. However, per se, they are not the same: Truthfulness is not Beauty, for instance.

We do often call people different things. For instance, we might say that Han is both truthful and lovely. These are qualities that she possesses, and we do not say that she cannot be truthful because she is lovely. But suppose we say that she is the Ideal, Loveliness, after which all other Lovely things partake. It now becomes a very serious thing to say that she IS Loveliness. Because every little part of her is part of the definition of Loveliness. Consequently, her truthfulness, apparently irrelevant, is now a necessary precursor to Loveliness.

In the same way, if God is to be considered the Form of the Good, for instance, it seems necessary that he be the Form of nothing else, or else that he be ‘divided up’ into separate entities, each being a little Form of its own. Otherwise we would suffer the same dilemma which we suffered with trying to make Han a Form.

Moreover, there are certain Forms which inherently contradict each other. I, for one, do not believe that the Form of Justice can be equated with the Form of Mercy. One involves taking one’s rights; the other involves ignoring them, out of love for the other person. Clearly, they are contradictory. One cannot be, at the same time, both Just and Merciful. Consequently, it would seem impossible for God to possess certain types of Forms that we consider good. Indeed, the very mixing of certain qualities seems to be a factor in our fallenness. For instance, we sometimes find a person who wants to be both beautiful and athletic at the same time: chasing after two different Forms, if you will. This often means he becomes only moderately successful in both, not because he only has a certain amount of time for each, but because to some extent the two qualities are contradictory.

In sum, Forms cannot be mixed. Therefore, to say that Christ is the Form of the True (or even to say that God is the Form of the True) rules out, by definition, that he can be the Form of anything else. One Form Good, Two Form Bad.

Posted at 3:20 am EST on the 14th of April 2009 by P. B. Hilton.

Under Essays, Theology as ,

There are 4 replies.
 
  1. Peter Rapp says on April 14th, 2009 at 11:12 pm

    Mr. Hilton,

    Excellent distillation of this abstract solution of forms!

  2. Nathan says on April 15th, 2009 at 2:46 pm

    Ok, I’m not entirely sure what you’re saying, Master Hilton. It seems as if you are saying that Christ is either good or He is true or He is beautiful; He cannot be all because each must take from the other. Or you are saying that that is what Platonic logic says, but it must be wrong because Christ said that he is those things in their completion, and what Christ says goes.

  3. H. G. Roorda says on April 15th, 2009 at 11:53 pm

    I’m not sure I feel very good about trying to make Christ a Platonic form of anything. I’ve probably elaborated on this before, so I’ll just say, Platonism doesn’t seem to have much to do with Christianity.

    But, thank you. True and lovely. You’re pretty suave, yourself.

  4. J. R. Ahern says on April 15th, 2009 at 11:56 pm

    I might not be so favorably disposed to count up the distilled moles of your solution as Mr. Rapp has. (OK. So my chemistry jokes aren’t as good as his. We’ll forget it for now.)

    Your argument seems a statement of fact – forms can’t mix – and a few examples proving that. Unfortunately, I question the cogency of your examples. You fail to tell us why it is impossible for forms to mix, because you have created for yourself an absurd example – the chair and the man. Granted. That’s absurd. But it’s absurd because you can’t even slightly partake in both of those natures, unless you’re a dead Ent made into furniture. However, Han partakes in both the nature of loveliness and truthfulness. This is not absurd. So, you haven’t really shown anything.

    Your other basic argument is that, at some point, the forms that are mixing would contradict each other. But, isn’t it possible, for the sake of argument, that, in saying he is the way, the truth, and the life, Christ is trying to redefine our notion of these forms so that they could entirely overlap without contradiction? So that no act of truth, say, is fully true unless it is lovely? And no act of love is fully lovely unless it is true?

    I’m not yet convinced.