A (Cross-Count) Compositional Christology

HeyJ 00 (2023), PP. 1–25 A (CROSS-COUNT) COMPOSITIONAL CHRISTOLOGY JOSHUA R. SIJUWADE A (Cross-Count) Compositional Christology, London, School of Theology, UK This article aims to provide a new philosophical explication of the doctrine of the Incarnation. A compositional model of the doctrine is formulated within the Dispositional Personhood account of Lynne Rudder Baker and the Composition as Identity framework of Donald L.M. Baxter. Formulating the doctrine of the Incarnation within this account and framework will enable it to be explicated in a clear and consistent manner, and the oft-raised objections against this type of model can be answered. INTRODUCTION According to the doctrine of the incarnation, God has intervened in our spatiotemporal reality in a particular and unique manner. More specifically, the doctrine claims that God the Son (hereafter, GS), the second person of the Trinity, intervened in human history by becoming incarnate in the person of Jesus of Nazareth (hereafter, Christ). This specific doctrine was formally defined at the Council of Chalcedon (451 AD), which established a conceptual and linguistic foundation centred on two constraints: 1. (Chalcedon) (i) At the moment of the incarnation, GS became a human that was a single person. (ii) In his incarnate state, GS was truly (i.e., fully and genuinely) divine and truly (i.e., fully and genuinely) human. As expressed by (1), an ‘orthodox’ construal of the doctrine of the incarnation must posit, in line with (ii), that Christ had two distinct yet united natures (physes): a divine and human nature. Furthermore, an ‘orthodox’ construal of the doctrine must also posit, in line with (i), that Christ was a single person (hypostasis). Now, over the course of time, theologians have sought to provide an explanation of (1) that allows one to affirm the true divinity and true humanity of Christ whilst also simultaneously affirming the singularity of his personhood. However, despite the amount of effort that has been given to this task, doing so has proven to be challenging, as either the explanations provided by individuals have, on the one hand, overstressed the distinctiveness of the natures—which has resorted in the issue of Nestorianism (i.e., the claim that in Christ there were two subjects of experience or persons: one human person and one divine person). Or, the explanations provided by these individuals have, on the other hand, overstressed the unity of the natures—which has resorted in the issue of Eutychianism (i.e., the claim that Christ’s divine nature mixes with or [in some way] swamps his human nature). Hence, the aim of an ‘orthodox’ or ‘Chalcedonian’ construal of the incarnation is to provide an explication of © 2023 Trustees For Roman Catholic Purposes Registered. Published by John Wiley & Sons Ltd, 9600 Garsington Road, Oxford OX4 2DQ, UK and 350 Main Street, Malden, MA 02148, USA. 2 JOSHUA R. SIJUWADE the meaning of (1) without, however, dividing the one person of Christ into two, or, dividing/ confusing the natures—let’s call this challenging task the ‘clarification task’. In the field of contemporary ‘analytic theology’, certain individuals have sought to complete the clarification task by proposing particular ‘models’ of the incarnation that provide a possible means by which the doctrine could, in fact, be true. One prominent set of models within the contemporary literature is that of ‘compositional’ models, which have recently been championed by a number of analytic theologians and philosophers such as Oliver Crisp,1 Timothy Pawl,2 Eleonore Stump,3 Andrew Loke,4 Thomas Flint, and William Hasker,5 with this type of model ultimately finding its paradigm formulation in the work of Brian Leftow.6 This paradigm formulation, which we can term the ‘Compositional Model’, 7 provides an interpretation of (1) as follows: 2. (Compositional Christology) (i) At the moment of the incarnation, GS became a part of Christ, who is a single person. (ii) In his incarnate state, Christ is a whole consisting of three parts: GS + B [the particular human body that was assumed by GS] + S [the particular human soul assumed by GS]. As expressed by (2), the Compositional Model of the incarnation postulates the fact that, in the incarnation, GS and Christ’s human nature (i.e., B + S) together compose Christ. Christ is thus taken not to be identical to any of his parts, including that of GS. The Compositional Model is thus what Jonathan Hill terms a ‘relational account’ of the incarnation.8 In that, it is an account that postulates that GS became related to a human X—rather than transforming into X. In other words, GS become incarnated as a human (i.e., took on X) by entering into a specific relationship with a human being that would have been a fully endowed being if it was not for that relationship.9 Thus, as Crisp notes,10 according to this account, GS ‘assumes a concrete particular at the first moment of the incarnation comprising a human body + soul’. The Compositional Model is thus best understood as a ‘concrete’ and ‘three-part’ Christology—where, for the former: concreteness, Christ’s human nature, rather than being construed as a ‘property-pile’, is construed as a concrete particular. Christ’s human nature is a real, flesh and blood entity that is endowed with a rational soul. And, for the latter: three-partness, this concrete particular nature is to be divided into three parts—GS, B, and S. Jesus’s human nature, which is simply identified as that of the combination of B and S, thus bears a contingent relation to GS. In short, the incarnation is thus simply to be understood as that of GS assuming a human nature, and, by this, he becomes part of a composite whole: Christ, who has GS, B, and S as proper parts. This construal of the incarnation is conceptually accessible, and seems to be based on firm theological grounds as it is not only the Chalcedonian conception of the incarnation but, as noted by Pawl,11 the general ‘conciliar’ conception as well—with this being the specific theological teaching that is derived from the central definitions and expositions of the creeds, canons, and anathemas of the first seven ecumenical councils (325 CE to 787 CE). Yet, despite this, the Compositional Model seems to be plagued by two problems—let’s term these problems the ‘Nestorian problem’ and the ‘identity problem’. First, the Nestorian problem raises the issue of there seemingly being two persons (or subjects of experience) in Christ, which goes against the Christological teaching provided by the Chalcedonian declaration that states: …the distinction of natures being by no means taken away by the union, but rather the property of each nature being preserved, and concurring in one person and one Subsistence, not parted or divided into two persons, but one and the same Son, and only begotten, God the Word, the Lord Jesus Christ. A (CROSS-COUNT) COMPOSITIONAL CHRISTOLOGY 3 The Compositional Model takes it to be the case that, in addition to taking on a B, GS also became related to S. This is clearly problematic, owing to the fact that, in a general context, as noted by Thomas Senor,12 a ‘human body and mind [S] combination composes a human person. So one might think that the human body and mind [S] of Christ will compose a human person too’. This is indeed problematic as if the B and S of Christ compose a person on their own, then it looks as though the Compositional Model will clearly be Nestorian through postulating that the action of God becoming incarnate was, in fact, the joining of two distinct persons. That is, if Christ’s B and S compose a person on their own, then there are clearly two persons in the composite whole that is Christ. Thus, the Compositional Model fails to fulfil the Clarification Task. Second, the identity problem raises the issue of the incompatibility of the Compositional Model with the traditional position that takes GS to be identical to Christ. That is, tradition teaches that Christ just is GS—Christ and GS are the same person. Yet, this seems to be problematic for the Compositional Model, as Christ within this model is an entity that is (partly) composed by, rather than identical to, GS—GS is a proper part of Christ, and is thus numerically distinct from him. This non-identity between GS and Christ is affirmed by Leftow,13 who writes that ‘the Son is not identical with Jesus Christ. The Son is instead just part of Jesus Christ, the part which determines who Christ is’. This supposition, however—of the non-identity of GS with Christ—is indeed problematic, given the general assumption that GS is simply Christ, and Christ is simply GS, as Hill highlighting this point writes:14 It appears to follow, then, that the person who walked and talked in Galilee was not the divine Son at all. He was only part of the Son; or, even worse, he was a part of the composite Christ, which also has the Son as another part, in which case Jesus wasn’t the Son at all. The compositionalist must explain how John the Baptist could legitimately point to Jesus and identify him with the Son. The scriptural narrative does not take GS to be a ‘part’ of Christ but simply to be Christ. However, as Christ is a composite that has GS as a proper part, this cannot be so—Christ and GS can’t be identical. Yet, if that is the case, then either there are two persons in the incarnation— Christ, who is a human person, and GS, who is a divine person—or, Christ is not a person. However, as Senor has noted,15 if Christ ‘is not a person, then there is no person who is God incarnate. The doctrine of the incarnation is supposed to bring us comfort in the belief that God knows our condition because God the Son was one of us. The CA [Compositional Model] straightforwardly denies this’. Instead, it seems to be the case that the Compositional Model replaces a personal Christ for an impersonal conglomerate. Thus, in addition to failing to fulfil the Clarification Task, the Compositional Model fails to correspond accurately to Scripture. Hence, given these issues, the Compositional Model should rightly be re-construed as follows: 3. (Compositional Christology1) (i) At the moment of the incarnation, GS became a part of Christ, who is a single person. (ii) In his incarnate state, Christ is a whole consisting of three parts: GS + B [the particular human body that was assumed by GS] + S [the particular human soul assumed by GS]. (iii) Christ has two persons within him: GS and B + S. (iv) Christ is not identical to any of his parts. 4 JOSHUA R. SIJUWADE Anyone who is committed to the Compositional Model is thus faced with the problem of affirming the inconsistent tenets of (3), which state that Christ is, on the one hand, a single person, but on the other hand, is not—with him also not being identical to GS, as is required by Scripture. This is clearly problematic. Hence, the central question that is now presented to the compositional Christologist is: is there a way to ward off the Nestorian and identity problems in a compositional framework, by affirming the identity of GS with Christ and the fact of there being one person in Christ? I believe that there is, by us turning our attention towards two contemporary metaphysical theses: Dispositional Personhood and (Strange) Composition as Identity. That is, the rest of this article will focus on explicating and applying a particular conception of the notion of personhood and Composition as Identity, within this specific incarnational context, so as to provide a means to hold onto a compositional Christology—without facing the Nestorian and identity problems.16 Thus, the plan is as follows: in section two (‘Dispositional Personhood’), I explicate a specific metaphysical thesis concerning the nature of human persons—termed Dispositional Personhood, which has been introduced by Lynne Rudder Baker in the field of philosophy of mind. In section three (‘A Dispositional Christology’), I apply the thesis of Dispositional Personhood to the incarnation, which will provide a means of dealing with the Nestorian problem. In section four (‘Composition as Identity’), I unpack a specific metaphysical thesis —termed (Strange) Composition as Identity, which was introduced by Donald L.M. Baxter in the field of mereology. In section five (‘A Compositional Christology’), I apply the thesis of Composition as Identity to the incarnation, which will provide a means of dealing with the identity problem, and, given the results of the previous section, the Compositional Model will be able to complete the Clarification Task and correspond fully with Scripture. Finally, after this section, there will be a concluding section, which will summarise the above results and conclude the article. DISPOSITIONAL PERSONHOOD The term ‘person’ can plausibly be taken to designate a primary kind. A primary kind determines what an entity fundamentally is, and thus a given entity could not exist without being of its primary kind. More specifically, according to Lynne Rudder Baker,17 what makes an entity of the primary kind person is that they have a first-person perspective essentially. As Baker (2007, 335) writes, ‘to be a person – whether Divinity, an angel, a human person, or a Martian person – one must have a first-person perspective’. We can term this account of personhood ‘Dispositional Personhood’ and construe it more precisely as such: 4. (Dispositional Personhood) An individual is a person if it bears a (rudimentary or robust) first-person perspective, which is an essential dispositional property of its bearer. According to Baker,18 ‘person’ is a fundamental kind of which there are many instances: human, divine, bionic, and Martian, etc.; however, despite the numerous instances of this specific kind, there is a shared, fundamental trait between them: their first-person perspective— where it is in virtue of an entity having a first-person perspective that it is a person and falls within this fundamental kind. A first-person perspective is thus the specific essential property that makes a person fundamentally what they are—it serves as the defining characteristic of all persons. In the specific case of human persons, the first-person perspective would include a first-person relation to their physical body. Thus, as Baker notes:19 A (CROSS-COUNT) COMPOSITIONAL CHRISTOLOGY 5 Smith has a first-person relation to her body if she can conceive of its properties as her own. For example, even if she is totally paralyzed, Smith has a first-person relation to her body if she can entertain the thought, ‘I wonder if I’ll ever walk again.’ Or again: Smith makes firstperson reference to her body as herself when she thinks about how beautiful she looks in the yearbook, or worries about how she might be injured skydiving—thoughts that she would express with first-person pronouns. Since plausibly a human person has an intimate relationship to their body, a first-person reference to one’s physical body is, in fact, a first-person reference to oneself. Thus, if a human body permanently loses the ability to support a first-person perspective, then it also ceases to be the body of a human person. Hence, a first-person perspective is thus necessary and sufficient for being a person—it is fundamental in grounding the personhood of an entity—and it comes in two stages: a rudimentary stage and a robust stage, which corresponds to the distinction between consciousness and self-consciousness.20 Following Baker,21 and focusing firstly on a rudimentary first-person perspective, we can understand that this type of first-person perspective is, first, a perspective—it is a disposition to perceive the world from a particular location. Second, it is personal—not in a manner that it refers to a subject, but one that simply provides the default location in which the conscious subject perceives the environment with which she is interacting. Third, it is independent of linguistic or conceptual abilities, which enables entities such as human infants or non-infants—each of whom lacks concepts—to be able to have this basic form of a first-person perspective. Turning now to a robust first-person perspective, this type of first-person perspective is one that has the former features; however, it also includes the ability for an entity to conceive of oneself as oneself, in the first-person.22 And the specific means by which one conceives of oneself as oneself from the first-person is through a ‘self-concept’—a concept of oneself from one’s own point of view. Thus, a self-concept, such as ‘I’m glad that I am a father’, manifests an individual’s robust first-person perspective—it attributes to oneself a first-person reference. The second occurrence of ‘I’ in the above statement directs one’s attention to the person, without, as Baker writes, any ‘name, description, or other third-person referential device to identify who is being thought about’.23 Thus, the possibility to conceive of oneself in the first-person through the use of a self-concept is the primary dividing line between a rudimentary and a robust first-person perspective. Nonetheless, in both cases, a first-person perspective is an exemplification of the dispositional property first-person perspective, which, in the human case, is an essential property of any human being—with this perspective being a dispositional property owing to the fact that it is a capacity that, in its ‘robust form’, is possibly manifested by one thinking of oneself as oneself. An animal can only have a rudimentary first-person perspective that it possesses contingently. Whereas a person comes into existence, according to Baker,24 at the specific point in which a human organism develops to the point of supporting a rudimentary first-person perspective.25 That is, more specifically, a human organism firstly acquires a rudimentary first-person perspective and then proceeds, if uninhibited, to acquire a robust first-person perspective when they learn enough of a natural language to be able to conceive of themselves as themselves in the first-person. Thus, a first-person perspective establishes a distinction between thinking of oneself in the first person and thinking of oneself in the third person. Once someone, as Baker writes,26 can ‘make this distinction, she can think of herself as a subject in a world of things different from herself’. Hence, when a person comes into existence, her first-person perspective determines her persistence conditions: she exists as long as her first-person perspective is exemplified.27 And what makes a person 6 JOSHUA R. SIJUWADE that specific person is the state of affairs of them exemplifying a first-person perspective. Therefore, since a person has a first-person perspective essentially, the state of affairs of them exemplifying a first-person perspective is the same state of affairs at all times of their existence—at any time t and in any possible world w, a person exists at t in w if and only if their first-person perspective is exemplified at t in w.28 Thus, given this role that a first-person perspective fulfils, it is a dispositional property that cannot be shared. That is, as Baker notes,29 it is one whose ‘instances cannot be divided or duplicated. So, a molecule-for-molecule replica of our body would not have your first-person perspective’. A first-person perspective is thus a dispositional property that is uniquely had by its bearer—this is because the particular ‘default’ location, in which the entity perceives the environment, is not shareable. Hence, a duplicate of this entity would not have the same disposition expressed by the former entity’s first-person perspective, but would instead perceive the world through a different perspective within the particular default location in which it resides.30 In addition to this—and more important for the task at hand—a single body cannot be in a relationship with two persons at the same time. As, if this were, in fact, possible, there would be two first-person perspectives on a single body, which, according to Baker,31 ‘would be monumental incoherence’. We can understand this incoherence that has been highlighted by Baker as follows:32 if there were any time at which a person could share their body with another person, then both persons would have a first-person relation to your body at that time. Now, part of what it means to say that an individual has a firstperson relation to a body is that of their body expressing their intentional states, as Baker notes:33 ‘We can see the coach’s frustration in the way he walks down the sideline; we can see the sprinter’s effort in the grimace on his face and the strain of his muscles. The athlete’s body itself reveals that the athlete is making an enormous physical effort’. If an individual S1 and another individual S2 are human persons, then it must be physically possible that S1 can make an enormous physical effort at a certain time, and S2 can be totally relaxed at that time.34 Yet, if S1 and S2 shared a body at time, t, then it would not be physically possible for S1 to make an enormous physical effort at t and for S2 to be totally relaxed at that exact time—as it is clearly not physically possible for a single body to express, at the same time, the incompatible states of enormous physical effort and total relaxation. Hence, there is no time at which S1 and S2 share a single body, which allows one to conclude that a person’s body is unique to them—as the bearer of a single first-person perspective—and is the means of distinguishing one person from all other persons at that time.35 On the basis of this, we can thus proceed now to apply the notion of dispositional personhood to the Compositional Model to help us deal with the Nestorian problem. A DISPOSITIONAL CHRISTOLOGY According to the Compositional Model, Christ is a whole (or fusion) of GS, B, and S, which are his parts. The Nestorian problem raised the issue of this particular account of the incarnation committing one to two persons (or subjects of experience) within Christ: one person who is GS, and one person who is B and S. This is clearly problematic as there is only supposed to be one person in Christ. Hence, one is required to affirm an inconsistent position by subscribing to the Compositional Model. Thus, one must deal with this issue if the veracity of the Compositional Model is to be affirmed. How one can indeed deal with this problem is by adopting the account of personhood detailed previously—namely, the notion of Dispositional Personhood. This notion can help us to deal with the Nestorian problem A (CROSS-COUNT) COMPOSITIONAL CHRISTOLOGY 7 in two ways: first, Christ, as a composite whole, has a particular region of spacetime that he occupies—let’s call this r1. GS, B, and S, as parts of Christ, would be located in the same region of spacetime as Christ—with each individually only occupying a particular sub-region of r1. Now, given the plausibility of the co-location of Christ and his parts, there cannot be more than one first-person perspective had by Christ, and thus, there can solely be one person in Christ.36 A first-person perspective is had by an entity from the particular ‘default location’ in which they perceive their environment. Yet, as just noted, GS, B, and S are located in the same region as each other—owing to them being parts of Christ—and thus, they cannot each have a distinct first-person perspective, which would be only possible by them each being located in distinct spacetime regions. Now, one of the parts of Christ, GS, would plausibly possess a robust first-person perspective essentially, prior to the incarnation, owing to the fact that he is a divine person. Thus, as GS becomes a part of the composite whole that is Christ he would have a personal perspective—a disposition to perceive and interact with the world and surrounding environment from a particular default spatial region. Second, this personal perspective is robust in the sense that GS has the ability to conceive of himself as himself, in the first-person, which is expressible through a ‘self-concept’—a concept of GS from his own point of view. As GS bears the dispositional property of a robust first-person perspective, he falls into the primary kind of ‘person’ and thus can be classed as a person. And as a robust first-person perspective is an essential dispositional property of its bearer, GS cannot cease to possess this once he becomes incarnate. Hence, by B + S being located in the same region as GS, the former must lack a first-person perspective and thus not be a person. Secondly, we can also take this to be the case on the basis of the ‘monumental incoherence’ that is had by positing the fact of a single body bearing a relation to two persons (i.e., two first-person perspectives) at the same time, as if there were any time at which GS, a person, could share Christ’s B with B + S—which we assume for reductio—then both GS and B + S would have a first-person relation to Christ’s B at that time. Now, given the fact that one of the primary roles of a body is to express behaviourally a person’s intentional states, then if, in fact, GS is a person and B + S is a person, then it must be physically possible that GS can make an enormous physical effort at a certain time—such as calming a certain storm—and B + S can be totally relaxed at that time. Yet, if GS and B + S shared a body at time, t, then it would not be physically possible for GS to make an enormous physical effort at t and for B + S to be totally relaxed at that exact time, given that it is not physically possible for Christ’s B to express, at the same time, the incompatible states of enormous physical effort and total relaxation. Hence, there is no time at which GS and B + S share a single body—namely, Christ’s B—which allows one to conclude that GS’s body is unique to him and is the means of distinguishing him from all other persons at that time.37 Given both of these reasons, at the moment of conception, we have GS joining with B + S to form Christ, and in this act, he ‘brings with him’ his own robust first-person perspective and thus, by this—and the fact of the location sharing of GS and B + S, and the incoherence of a single body supporting two first-person perspectives—he offsets the production of the first-person perspective (and person) that would have come about if GS was not joined to that particular body and soul.38 In other words, B + S is not a person, as it lacks a (rudimentary or robust) first-person perspective, owing to the action of it joining with GS to form Christ causing it from the moment of its existence not to develop this perspective. There is one person in Christ: GS, and thus, on the basis of this, we can re-formulate the Compositional Model as follows: 8 JOSHUA R. SIJUWADE 5. (Compositional Christology2) (i) At the moment of the incarnation, GS became a part of Christ, who is a single person. (ii) In his incarnate state, Christ is a whole consisting of three parts: GS + B [the particular human body that was assumed by GS] + S [the particular human soul assumed by GS]. (iii) Christ has one person within him: GS, who bears the essential dispositional property of a robust first-person perspective. (iv) Christ is not identical to each of his parts. Importantly, given this modification, there is one person in Christ; however, this does not result in Christ himself being an ‘impersonal agglomerate’— as he is taken to be a person in a derivate sense by him having a part, GS, that bears the essential dispositional property of a first-person perspective.39 Christ has a robust first-person perspective—and thus an ability to perceive the world from his location and think of himself as himself—through GS, which is, plausibly, sufficient for him being personal. The Nestorian problem is thus not an issue for the Compositional Model.40 The question now is: can we reach the same conclusion for the identity problem as well? COMPOSITION AS IDENTITY Composition as Identity (hereafter, CAI) is the general thesis that the composition relation is the identity relation. The majority position, as expressed by David Lewis,41 Einar Bohn and Megan B. Wallace,42 is that of CAI being the numerical identity of several parts, taken collectively, with the whole of which they are parts. Donald Baxter has proposed an alternative account,43 termed ‘Strange Composition as Identity’, which posits the following: 6. (Strange Composition as Identity) The whole, which is a single entity in one count, is cross-count identical with many distinct aspects in another count, each of which is inter-count identical to the parts of the whole. According to Strange Composition as Identity (hereafter Strange CAI), in the count in which the whole is a single thing (i.e., exists), its parts are taken simply to be (qualitatively) differing, but numerically identical aspects of the whole.44 The parts are then each crosscount identical with an aspect of the whole, and then, in turn, the aspects of the whole are each intra-count identical with the whole. Finally, by the transitivity of identity, which governs both kinds of identity (i.e., cross-count and intra-count identity), the parts of a whole are thus each identical with the whole itself. Thus, Strange CAI takes composition to be a distributive cross-count identity relation. This is indeed a unique and explanatorily intriguing position that deserves to be fully explored, and, by this exploration, provide a means to deal with our task at hand.45 Central to this specific construal of CAI, for Baxter, are three important elements: counts, count-identity and aspects, each of which we can now unpack in more detail. First, the term ‘count’ is used by Baxter as a technical term for the result of some way of counting—with a ‘way of counting’ being specified by one giving rules/ instructions/standards for counting.46 And importantly, as Baxter writes,47 ‘the results of a way of counting—a count—would be specified by saying what things are counted as one thing’. A count determines the particular number of things that there are in a certain domain, where to be in a count, as Baxter notes,48 ‘is to be counted in, on that way of counting’. An A (CROSS-COUNT) COMPOSITIONAL CHRISTOLOGY 9 individual can have different counts, owing to the possibility of one counting an object in different ways. The specific count that is chosen is dependent on the situation, and different considerations would influence which different count is chosen. Baxter believes that owing to the fact that there are different ways for one to count, there is thus good evidence that there is more than one true number of things that exist. That is, as he states,49 ‘there is more than one real “count”‘. Thus, to illustrate this, let’s take a potential piece of land that is to be sold by a farmer (we can term this the Piece of Land example).50 Now, in an answer to the question of how many objects there are in the example, one can focus on counting the piece of land itself, and the answer would be one, or instead, one can focus on counting each of the parcels of the land, and the answer would be, for example, six. These two different answers are dependent on different ways of counting, which, in turn, are dependent upon the different ways in which the farmer in the example could have divided up the land to suit his interests.51 Given these different ways of counting, Baxter thus takes it to be the case that existence (i.e. what there is), number (i.e. how many things there are) and identity (i.e. what something is) are relative to a count.52 Thus, returning to our example again (as illustrated by Lechthaler),53 the farmer could first decide not to divide the farm, and thus have one piece of land that he could sell to an individual as a whole (Figure 1.: top left). Second, he could decide to divide up the farm into six parcels and sell each parcel to different individuals (Figure 1.: top right); or he could decide to divide the farm (horizontally) up into two pieces, creating a northern half and a southern half (Figure 1.: bottom left), or he could decide to divide the farm up (vertically) into two parcels, creating a western half and an eastern half, and sell each half to a different buyer (Figure 1.: bottom middle). Or, finally, he Figure 1. Piece of land example 10 JOSHUA R. SIJUWADE could decide to divide the farm up into two parcels of different sizes and sell the smaller size to one buyer and the larger size to multiple buyers, etc. (Figure 1.: bottom right). If the farmer wants to sell his land and ward off double-counting this object,54 the farmer has to settle for one way of counting the land. Although he can divide and count his property in numerous ways, he cannot hold on to more than one way of counting and dividing up his property at the same time.55 If he wants to sell his property to some buyers, he must sell it as one piece of land, or as six parcels, or as a northern and southern half, or as a western and eastern half, or as one small piece and one large piece, etc. Thus, what specific things and properties exist in reality, in this example, are determined and dependent upon how the farmer counts and divides up the land. If he decides to keep it as one piece, then only one piece of land exists and can be sold to one buyer. However, if he decides to divide it up into six parcels, then six parcels exist and can be sold individually to different buyers, or if he decides to divide it up into two pieces vertically, or horizontally, then only the northern and southern half, or the western and eastern half exist, and can be sold to two buyers, and so on.56 Thus, Baxter states that it is a ‘principle that there is a count which includes the several parts and a count which includes the whole, but no count which includes both’.57 In the context of a part-whole relation, Baxter writes that, ‘in counting we either count the whole as one, or each part as one.58 If we count the whole, then we do not count the parts. If we count the parts, then we do not count the whole’. If something exists, according to Baxter, then it is in a count. But, a whole and its various parts are not both in a given count. So, what exists is relative to a count. We can call this principle—that a whole and its various parts do not exist in the same count—the Separation Principle (hereafter, Separation). Baxter, however, does not take a privileged view on which count is the correct count, and thus there is no objectively correct count, but, instead, certain counts might be held to be pragmatically more valuable than others for specific individuals, relative to their interest. Even though this all sounds intuitive, one might object that the position expressed by Baxter— which we can term ‘count-relativity’—is simply an observation about human activity, rather than an indicator of what number of things actually exist. However, as Turner has noted,59 this would be a mistake as, ‘counts aren’t things we project onto the world, but are part of its fundamental metaphysical structure’. That is, according to Turner,60 count-relativity is more correctly seen as a specific form of ‘ontological pluralism’.61 Now, ontological pluralism is the position that there are different ways of being. That is that there are different kinds of existence for the entities that exist in different ways. Existence, in post-Quine philosophical thought, is held to be expressed through quantification. An ontological pluralist would thus posit the need for different, elite quantifiers to express the different kinds of existence for the entities that exist in these different ways—where a quantifier is elite if it ‘carves nature at its joints’. Hence, the elite quantifiers that are used in this context will be tied to different counts that represent different ways in which entities exist, and are expressed linguistically by different subscripted indices. So, for example, following Turner,62 we can use ‘c’ and ‘d’, to express the counts associated with respective elite quantifiers. Such as: ‘∃cxFx’, meaning that there is some countc in which x exists and x is F, and “∃dxGx’, meaning that there is some countd in which x exists and x is G. A count (or the process of counting) can thus be taken simply to be the recognition of a certain domain of reality, where one count recognises a certain kind of existence or way of being of an object, and another count recognises another kind of existence or way of being of an object, these counts being expressed by elite quantifiers, with subscripted indices expressing the specific count being quantified over.63 And, importantly, in the context of the part-whole relation in Strange CAI, the domain in which a whole exists, and the domain, in which the parts exist, can be ranged over by elite quantifiers, given the naturalness of the part-whole relation (i.e., it ‘carves nature at its joints’). A (CROSS-COUNT) COMPOSITIONAL CHRISTOLOGY 11 The notion of counts can thus be clarified by elucidating them within the framework of ontological pluralism and utilising the notions of elite quantifiers to represent a given count. Taking this all into account, this notion of a count leads us to the next important central notion for Baxter: count-identity. The notion of ‘count-identity’ is utilised by Baxter to explain how a certain part, which exists in one count, is identical with a whole that it is a part of, which exists in another count.64 Identity (one-one and many-one) is taken by Baxter to be primitive, in that the concept cannot be constructed from other more basic conceptions of identity.65 And as noted above, number and existence are relative to a count; however, Baxter also sees that identity is relative to a count, and thus there is a distinction between ‘intra-count identity’ and ‘cross-count identity’. Intra-count identity is the ordinary and familiar one-one identity. It is the classical identity relation that is governed by the formal principles of reflexivity, symmetry, and transitivity, etc. However, why Baxter terms it ‘intra-count’ identity is due to the fact that, as he writes,66 this ‘familiar version of identity rules within counts’. This type of identity only holds within a count. It is, thus, according to Baxter, the normal numerical identity that we regularly encounter. However, the application of this type of identity here is solely to be restricted within a count, whilst, for cross-count identity, we have an identity relation that holds across different counts. More specifically, cross-count identity is a primitive notion that behaves in a similar way to classical numerical identity; namely, it is reflexive, symmetric, and transitive. Furthermore, it is an n-ary relation—in that for any n greater than zero, it relates it (or them) across different counts. Moreover, cross-count identity comes in two different forms, the first is a one-one cross-count identity that relates one object with another object, and the second is a many-one cross-count identity that relates many objects with one object. That is, for the former, one entity in a specific count is (cross-count) identical with the same entity in another count. It is the identification of objects with each other across different counts. And in the context of the part-whole relation, each different part is cross-count identical with the whole, as distinguished in a different way.67 Whilst for the latter, which Baxter takes to be the composition relation, is that of many entities—taken collectively, in one specific count—being (cross-count) identical, with one object in another count. Many-one cross-count identity is a relation between many entities in one count and a single entity in another count. Hence, intra-count and cross-count identity are thus the ordinary identity relation, relativised to a count, or working across counts, and thus—in their one-one and many-one forms—are governed by the same formal principles. Thus, given the notion of counts that has been clarified above, these two notions should not be viewed with any more disdain than the ordinary identity relation itself. Turning our attention now onto aspects. The notion of an ‘aspect’ is utilised by Baxter in order to explain how a whole,68 as distinguished one way, can qualitatively differ but be numerically identical with itself, as distinguished another way.69 Specifically, in the part-whole context—where Separation is assumed—the whole can be qualitatively distinguished from itself, rather than the parts being numerically distinguished from each other. That is, one and the same entity can be discernible from itself— namely, it qualitatively differs from itself, in that it can possess different and incompatible properties at the same time. This is what Baxter terms ‘qualitative self-differing’. Baxter thus introduced the concept of an ‘aspect’ into the contemporary metaphysical literature in order to provide a coherent conceptual foundation for the notion of qualitative self-differing (hereafter, self-differing). Self-differing is the qualitative differing of some entity in one way (or respect) from itself in another.70 For any case to be one of differing, one aspect must possess a quality that another aspect lacks. And for it to be a case of self-differing, the aspects must be numerically identical to the individual that bears them.71 From this introduction to the notion of an 12 JOSHUA R. SIJUWADE aspect, we can further elucidate this notion at two levels: the semantic level and the ontological level. At the semantic level, the aspects in these cases of self-differing, as seen above, are expressed through ‘nominal qualifiers’ such as ‘insofar as’ (or ‘in some respect’, and to a lesser extent ‘as’ and ‘qua’). Nominal qualifiers serve a special role of referring to aspects—they are specifically present within self-differing cases, where the same entity can be discernible from itself. Furthermore, following Turner,72 the use of a nominal qualifier in these cases (and other cases like them) can be further precisified via formalisation where one takes ‘a’ as a regular term and ‘φ(y)’ as any formula open in y, which allows us to introduce a term to refer to aspects (i.e., an aspect term) written as such: ‘ay[φ(y)]’. From this semantic basis, we can now progress onto the ontological level, which will allow us to elucidate further the nature of an aspect. At the ontological level, according to Baxter, aspects are difficult to distinguish from other entities.73 However, we can begin to acquire an understanding of their nature by describing their functional role and the relationship to the individuals that bear them. Primarily, the aspects of an individual function as the particular ways of being of that individual. A way of being is a conceptually primitive notion that can be glossed in part by taking it to be the way or manner in which an entity exists. That is, as Jerrod Levinson notes,74 ‘an object’s ways of being are the varied fashion in which it goes about the complicated business of existing’.75 Thus, aspects function as the particular ways in which individuals are. However, as ways of being of an individual, aspects are not qualities (or properties), as they themselves possess qualities (or properties) due to their numerical identity to the individuals that bear them.76 Aspects, however, do not possess all of the qualities that the particular individuals of which they are aspects have. Moreover, in a similar manner to their bearers, they are particular entities—rather than universals—through Leibniz’s Law failing to hold for them.77 Secondly, despite the numerical identity between individuals and their aspects, aspects are not ‘complete individuals’, owing to the fact that complete individuals are entities that can exist independently. Instead, according to Baxter,78 aspects are ‘incomplete entities’ owing to them ‘having fewer properties than it takes to exist on one’s own’. Aspects are thus incomplete in the sense of them being dependent upon the complete individuals to which they are numerically identical. The nature of a complete individual determines the aspects that they have, in that they depend entirely upon how that individual entity is—once we have the individual, we also have its ways of being.79 Thirdly, aspects are not mereological parts of the individuals that they are aspects of, as, again, they are numerically identical to, rather than a ‘part’ of, these individuals.80 Lastly, aspects are not mental abstractions. That is, even though a complete individual’s aspects are abstract entities (through them failing to exhaust the ‘content’ that they are aspects of) that can be considered by means of abstraction—where one abstracts a way that an individual is— it is important to note, as Baxter writes,81 that the difference between a complete individual and their aspects is ‘a less-than-numerical distinction but more than a mere distinction of reason’. Baxter terms this distinction an ‘aspectival distinction’, which results in the aspects of an individual only ever being two (or more) in a ‘loose’ sense when they are counted based on qualitative distinction. However, in a ‘strict’ sense, when the aspects are counted based on a numerical distinction, they are only ever one. Thus, aspects, as Baxter notes,82 provide a ‘complexity to the simple, i.e., a qualitative complexity to the quantitatively simple’. The same individual can possess qualitatively differing aspects that are nevertheless numerically identical to the individual that bears them and also with each other. Aspects thus allow, as noted by Baxter,83 ‘contradictories to be predicated of the same thing in a way that Leibniz’s Law is silent about’. Rather it is important to consider the domain of quantification for Leibniz’s Law: that is, according to Baxter, Leibniz’s Law solely applies to individuals (i.e., complete/independent entities) and thus does A (CROSS-COUNT) COMPOSITIONAL CHRISTOLOGY 13 not generalise over to aspects (i.e., incomplete/dependent entities). Thus, on this basis, we can conclude with Baxter that Leibniz’s Law does not apply to aspects, and thus it is coherent to posit the existence of qualitatively differing yet numerically identical aspects. More can indeed be said here concerning each of the central elements of Baxter’s CAI. However, we now have a firm foundation for further understanding the notion of Composition as Identity. Thus, in conceptualising (distributive) cross-count identity of a whole and its parts, suppose that we have a certain number of parts and the whole of which they are all parts. Firstly, according to the notion of counts, the whole and its parts would exist relative to a count. And given Separation, the whole would exist relative to one count (i.e., the whole-count), and its parts would exist relative to another count (i.e., the parts-count). That is, the whole and its parts would exist relative to separate counts (i.e., the whole-count is not the parts-count). Consider now the whole-count, in which the whole exists, but not each of its parts. As Baxter believes that a whole can be considered as various things, through possessing aspects, we can thus consider the whole through any of its parts (i.e., aspectivally the-whole-as/qua/in-so-far-as it is part x1, part x2, part x3…part xn). Let’s term these ways of considering the whole (i.e., its aspects) part-aspects. Though the whole and its various part-aspects can qualitatively differ, they are numerically identical with each other and the whole itself. Thus there is only one thing that actually exists in the whole-count, the whole. The whole is thus discernible from, but intracount identical with, each of its part-aspects. Additionally, by the formal principles that govern identity (such as reflexivity, symmetry, and transitivity, etc.), each of the part-aspects would also be intra-count identical with each other. We turn our attention now to the parts-count, in which each of the parts exists, and not the whole. Baxter believes that the best way to conceptualise the cross-count identity here is through utilising the notion of mapping. That is, there is a mapping of items that exist in one specific count (i.e., the parts) onto an item that exists in another (i.e., the whole).84 In Baxter’s terminology, the pre-image (the parts) is mapped onto an image (the whole), where the pre-image exists in a different count from its image. An important question to ask here is what exactly is the image of a part? Well, according to Baxter,85 the ‘image of a part is: the whole as partially located somewhere’. That is, for example, a can is mapped onto the six-pack, on one count, as it is partially located in the area in which the can is located in the other count.86 The six-pack, insofar as it is located in a given location, is thus taken to be the image of the can which occupies that specific location.87 Images, in one count (such as the six-pack), and the several parts (such as the six cans) that they are mapped onto, in another count, are thus numerically identical to the whole and each other. They just are the whole distinguished in different ways, that is, they are aspects of the whole. Thus, in further illustrating this, Baxter writes:88 … suppose you have six parts in locations 1 through 6 respectively. Then the image of the first part is the whole insofar as it is in location 1, the image of the second part is the whole insofar as it is in location 2 etc. The six images are qualitatively distinct but numerically identical. The images are intra-count-identical, for they are all identical to something, viz. the whole that exists in the same count in which they do. Each part is identical to its image, with images that are identical with each other and the whole. So according to Baxter, we can map each of the parts, in the parts-count, onto the part-aspects of the whole, in the whole count, that correspond with (i.e., are located where) each of the parts (are located) in the parts-count. And from this mapping process, of image (i.e., whole as located in a given location) and pre-image (i.e., part), Baxter believes that 14 JOSHUA R. SIJUWADE ‘there is a perfectly good sense of identity in which each part is identical with its image’,89 with this identity being what we have termed ‘cross-count identity’. This notion of distributive cross-count identity, in Baxter’s mind, enables one fully to make sense of how a whole can be identical to each of its parts (i.e., be distributively identical with its parts). As, according to Baxter, and as previously noted, a whole is intra-count identical, with each of its part-aspects,90 and now, by adding the notion of cross-count identity, one is allowed to say that the mapping process, explained above, details how a given part, in the parts-count, is identical with the part-aspect of the whole, that corresponds with it in the whole-count (i.e., with its image). A part-aspect, in the whole-count, is taken to be (cross-count) identical with a part, in the parts-count. And thus, importantly, by the formal principles of identity, in this case, the transitivity of identity, the whole is identical with that part as well, in that the whole is intra-count identical with that given part in the whole-count. 91 That is, more succinctly, the parts are cross-count identical with images/part-aspects (i.e., the whole insofar as it is located in the location of the part), which are intra-count identical with each other and the whole. And thus, importantly, Baxter writes that he wants ‘the mapping of part to image in the whole to be a case of identity–cross-count identity. Since the images are intra-count identical, the many parts are cross-count identical with the one whole’.92 The above account here is thus to be taken as distributive (cross-count) identity. However, can more be done here to help sharpen up and lay out this account in a more ‘fine-grained’ manner? I believe so, through again turning to Turner’s helpful regimentation of Baxter’s account. Following Turner,93 we can proceed to refine the account here by focusing on the example provided by Baxter,94 where he states: You are showing a child an orange and then its parts. First you say, ‘Here is an orange. It’s juicy inside but not outside.’ After peeling, you say, ‘Here is the inside of the orange—it’s juicy. And here’s the outside—it’s not juicy.’ In the before case, you are talking about one thing, the orange. The orange inside is one way, and the orange outside is another… In the after case, the inside of the orange is one thing that is one way, and the outside of the orange is a second thing that is another way. Staying with this example here, we can term the orange ‘Otto’, the peel ‘Peely’ and the juicy inside ‘Innie’.95 Peely and Innie are parts of Otto, as depicted in this illustration featured in Figure 2 as provided by Turner:96 Now, taking into account Separation, parts and wholes do not exist in the same count, and thus in the case before Otto is peeled, we have a count that includes Otto, but excludes Peely and Innie.97 In this count, we do not have Peely and Innie, but we do have what Baxter terms the ‘orange-outside’ and the ‘orange-inside’, which according to him, for the former, is short for ‘the orange insofar as it occupies the location of the peel’.98 This strange phrasing, however, as Turner notes, should be seen as aspects of Otto that are tied to location.99 So letting P stand for Peely’s location and I for Innie’s location, in the case before Otto is peeled, and utilising the language of an aspect-term introduced previously: αy[φ(y)], and ‘@’ as a shorthand for the term ‘occupies’, we thus are referring to the ‘orange-outside’ as Ottoy[y@P] (i.e., ‘Otto-asoccupying-P’) and the ‘orange-inside’ as Ottoy[y@I] (i.e., ‘Otto-as-occupying-I’).100 The move to CAI, as Turner terms it, is made through a ‘cross-count’.101 identification between ‘Otto-asoccupying-P’ with Peely (i.e., Ottoy[y@P] with Peely), or ‘Otto-as-occupying-I’ and Innie (i.e., Ottoy[y@I] with Innie) and then an (intra-count) identification of Ottoy[y@I] and Ottoy[y@P] with Otto.102 That is, in stepping away from this example for the moment, Baxter writes:103 A (CROSS-COUNT) COMPOSITIONAL CHRISTOLOGY 15 Figure 2. Orange and parts example The identity of part with the whole is really the cross-count identity of part with the whole as in sub-location, and then the intra-count identity of that with the whole. So the identity between part and whole seems to be between two things considered qualifiedly, but it is so only by the mediation of identity with something considered qualifiedly—i.e., the whole as in sub-location. As previously noted, parts, in one count, are meant to be identical to an object-as-located-atthe-part’s-region, in another count (that is, following Baxter’s terminology above, the whole as in ‘sub-location’). Thus, returning to our example, Peely and Innie are, therefore, cross-count identical (≈) to Ottoy[y@P] and Ottoy[y@I], specifically for the reason that Peely is located at P and Innie is located at I.104 That is, now at a more general level, a given part x is cross-count identical to a whole, so long as the whole y has an aspect that is located in the same region R that x is located at (i.e., possesses the aspect y-as-occupying-R). One then moves from the cross-count identity of x with y-as-occupying-R, to the intra-count identity of y-as-occupying-R with y. This thus establishes a one-one identity between part and whole, as in ‘sub-location’ (i.e., the aspect of a whole), and then the intra-count identity of that with the whole. In a more coarse-grained manner, we have the one-one identity between part and whole. We can now apply the notions and accounts detailed above within a Christological context to deal with the identity problem. A COMPOSITIONAL CHRISTOLOGY As noted previously, Christ is a whole (or fusion) of GS, B, and S, which are his parts. The identity problem raised the issue of the Compositional Model committing one to the nonidentity of Christ with GS, which is inconsistent with the scriptural position that Christ just is GS. As before, one must deal with this issue if the veracity of the Compositional Model is to be affirmed. That is, if one is to proceed forward with the Compositional Model as it stands (with its inclusion of the standard theories concerning identity and composition, 16 JOSHUA R. SIJUWADE etc.), the veracity of this type of model can be called into question by it rendering the incarnation incomprehensible. There is thus motivation to find an alternative route to aid one in establishing the veracity of the conceptualisation of the incarnation in light of the issues raised. Thus, how one can begin to deal with this problem is by adopting the notion of Composition as Identity detailed previously, which we can apply to our theological context as follows: firstly, we can use ‘c’ and ‘p’ to talk about the counts associated with respective quantifiers—where Christ exists relative to one count: countc and GS, B, and S exist relative to another count: countp. As noted above, according to Separation, these would be separate counts, in that the whole-count in which Christ exists is not the parts-count in which GS, B, and S exist (i.e., countc is not countp). Focusing now on countc, in which Christ exists, but not GS, B, and S (i.e., each of his parts): Christ would possess aspects, and some of these aspects are tied to location. With the specific aspects of Christ in this context would be what I term GS-aspect, B-aspect, and S-aspect. These aspects, being aspects, are abstract particulars, incomplete entities, and qualitatively differ (in that GS-aspect, B-aspect, and S-aspect, would possess different qualities [or properties])105 yet, each is numerically identical to Christ; they are Christ simply distinguished in different ways. Thus, in this count, countc, we do not have GS, B, and S, but we do have the whole, Christ, and his qualitatively differing, yet numerically identical aspects: ‘GS-aspect’, ‘B-aspect’, and ‘S-aspect’.106 And in countp, we do not have Christ and his aspects, but instead his parts, GS, B, and S. These are separate counts with different entities existing within them. We can thus express this through adopting the framework of ontological pluralism, which takes there to be different domains of reality that are quantified over by two ‘elite’ existential quantifiers. One quantifier: ‘∃c’, ranging over the domain (i.e., count) in which the whole exists (i.e., Christ exists), expressed by the following: ‘∃cxCx’, meaning that there is some countc in which x exists and x is C (Christ). And another quantifier, ‘∃p’, ranging over the domain (i.e., count) in which the parts exist (i.e., GS, B, and S exist), expressed by the following: ‘∃pCx’, meaning that there is some countp in which x exists and x is P (each of GS, B, and S). Now the question can be raised concerning why we should take there to be any specific correspondence between ‘GSaspect’ and GS, ‘B-aspect’ and B, and ‘S-aspect’ and S, each of which exist within different counts (i.e., different domains of reality). Well, this is because each of the aspects occupies, in countc, the same location as the corresponding part in countp. And thus, taking this all into account, these three aspects can be further defined as such: 7. (Aspect Definitions) (i) GS-aspect: Christy[y@GS] (i.e., Christ insofar as he occupies the location of GS). (ii) B-aspect: Christy[y@B] (i.e., Christ insofar as he occupies the location of B). (iii) S-aspect: Christy[y@S] (i.e., Christ insofar as he occupies the location of S). Now, focusing on the relationship between countc and countp, and the cross-count identity between Christ (specifically his aspects of ‘GS-aspect’, ‘B-aspect’, and ‘S-aspect’) and GS, B, and S. In utilising the notion of mapping, we take Christ to be the image—more specifically, GS-aspect, B-aspect, and S-aspect to be the images which are each located in the area in which GS, B, and S are located in countp—and GS, B, and S are taken to be the pre-images. We then map each of the parts, in countp, GS, B, and S, onto their corresponding images in countc, ‘GS-aspect’, ‘B-aspect’, and ‘S-aspect’, which are each intra-count-identical with each other and the whole: Christ. Finally, by the transitivity of identity, which governs the A (CROSS-COUNT) COMPOSITIONAL CHRISTOLOGY 17 (cross-count and inter-count) identity relation, we reach the point of GS, B, and S, in countp, being (cross-count) identical with Christ in countc. To illustrate this and focusing now on one part of Christ, in countp, GS, we see that by GS (pre-image) in countp being mapped onto, and thus being cross-count identical with, ‘GS-aspect’ (image) in countc, and ‘GSaspect’ being inter-count identical with Christ (which it is an aspect of, and thus numerically identical with) in countc, then by transitivity, GS in countp is (cross-count) identical with Christ in countc. GS, as with B and S, is thus (cross-count) Christ. That is, so long as, firstly, Christ has an aspect that is located in the same region at which one of his parts is located. We can then, from this, make a move from the cross-count identity of one of Christ’s parts (i.e., GS, B, and S) with the location-specific aspect (i.e., of Christy[y@GS], Christy[y@B], and Christy[y@S]), to an ‘intra-count’ identification of each of the latter with Christ. From this, the transitivity of identity, which governs intra-count (and cross-count) identity, leads us to the conclusion that GS, B, and S (i.e., the parts) are each (cross-count) identical with Christ (i.e., the whole). We thus have the case of Christ being GS—through him being crosscount identical to him. In other words, as the identity of Christ and S is intra-count identical in countc, it makes perfectly good sense to say that the GS-aspect of Christ is what S is in countc because of their cross-count identity. S does not exist as an individual in the countc, but S does exist in that count as an aspect of Christ that is intra-count (i.e., numerically) identical to Christ. Hence, within the Strange CAI framework, we can directly identify each of the ‘parts’ of Christ with their corresponding aspects in the whole-count and then identify those aspects with Christ; and by the transitivity of identity working across counts, identity each of them with Christ himself. The parts are (each) identical to Christ, and Christ is identical to (each of) his parts. Importantly, however, given this notion of counts (and aspects), we, fortunately, do not have a troublesome identification of the parts of Christ (i.e., GS, B, and S) with each other. That is, an objector to the position proposed here might say, given that GS, B, and S are each cross-count identical with an aspect of the whole in a different count, which, is in turn, intra-count identical with Christ, transitivity applies, which results in GS, B, and S each being Christ, and thus each of these parts being identical to one another. In response to this, we can emphasise the fact that different count-identities do not mix; thus, we do not have the result in the case of each of Christ’s parts being identical with each other—the parts are instead numerically distinct as illustrated in Figure 3. (where ‘CC’ stands for ‘cross-count identity’ and ‘IC’ stands for ‘intra-count identity’): In the parts-count, the parts exist as numerically distinct entities in a distinct count (i.e., domain of reality), with no identity relation between them. Instead, there is an identity relation (i.e., a cross-count identity relation) running between the different counts, and an identity relation within the whole-count (i.e., an intra-count identity relation). Transitivity requires us to identify each of Christ’s parts with Christ (given the identity of them with their respective aspects in the whole-count), but there is no requirement to identify the parts within the partscount. They instead remain as numerically distinct entities, which wouldn’t be the case if we directly identified them with Christ within the same count—that is, without channelling this identity through their aspects in a distinct domain of reality (i.e., the whole-count). Thus, as Turner helpfully states, in focusing on the issue of an individual’s arms being identical, given that they are identical to the individual’s body: Each of my arms is cross-count identical to an aspect of me, and those aspects are intracount identical. But although cross-count and intra-count identity are each transitive, their mixture isn’t, so there’s nothing forcing us to cut out the middlemen and make my arms identical.107 18 JOSHUA R. SIJUWADE Figure 3. Incarnational identification Thus, the roundabout way of identifying a part (i.e., each of the parts) with the aspect of the whole (i.e., Christ), rather than directly with the whole, helps one to ward off the issues of the parts being identical with each other. We thus have a workable way of identifying GS, B, and S, each with Christ, without falling into absurdity. Hence, given all of this, we now have a final re-formulation of the Compositional Model that can be stated as follows: 8. (Compositional Christology3) (i) At the moment of the incarnation, GS became a part of Christ, who is a single person. (ii) In his incarnate state, Christ is a whole consisting of three parts: GS + B [the particular human body that was assumed by GS] + S [the particular human soul assumed by GS]. (iii) Christ has one person within him: GS, who bears the essential dispositional property of a robust first-person perspective. (iv) Christ is (cross-count) identical to each of his parts. As with the Nestorian problem, the identity problem does not plague the Compositional Model,108 as we have one person in Christ, GS—through him uniquely bearing a first-person perspective—and we have a (cross-count) identification between Christ and each of his parts, which allows one to say that Christ just is GS—Christ and GS are the same person. Thus, the modified Compositional Model fulfils the Clarification Task and fits with the scriptural witness concerning the nature of the person of Christ. CONCLUSION In conclusion, the doctrine of the incarnation, as conceived through the Compositional Model, has been further elucidated within the Dispositional Personhood account and Composition A (CROSS-COUNT) COMPOSITIONAL CHRISTOLOGY 19 as Identity framework. Doing this enabled there to be solely one person in Christ: GS— through him uniquely bearing a first-person perspective—and it also enabled GS, B, and S to each be cross-count identical with Christ (without them being in anyway identical to each other), and thus be Christ. Thus, the present proposal, grounded upon the work of Lynne Rudder Baker and Donald L.M. Baxter (and helpfully regimented by Jason Turner), is successful in affirming the central components of a compositional Christology, without falling foul of the Nestorian problem and the identity problem. Dispositional Personhood and Composition as Identity have provided a new way forward for theorising within a compositional Christological framework. DECLARATIONS FUNDING N/A CONFLICTS OF INTEREST/COMPETING INTERESTS N/A AVAILABILITY OF DATA AND MATERIAL N/A CODE AVAILABILITY N/A Notes 1 Oliver Crisp, Divinity and Humanity: The Incarnation Reconsidered (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007); God Incarnate: Explorations in Christology (New York: T&T Clark, 2009); ‘Compositional Christology without Nestorianism’, in The Metaphysics of the Incarnation, ed. A. Marmodoro & Jonathan Hill (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011), 45–66. 2 Timothy Pawl, In Defense of Conciliar Christology: A Philosophical Essay (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2016); In Defense of Extended Conciliar Christology: A Philosophical Essay (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2019); Incarnation (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2020). 3 Eleonore Stump, ‘Aquinas’ Metaphysics of the Incarnation’, in The Incarnation: An Interdisciplinary Symposium on the Incarnation of the Son of God, ed. D. Kendall & S. Davis (New York: Oxford University Press, 2011), 197-220. 4 Andrew Loke, A Kryptic Model of the Incarnation (Surrey: Ashgate, 2014). 5 Thomas Flint, ‘Should concretists part with mereological models of the Incarnation?’, in The Metaphysics of the Incarnation, ed. Marmodoro & Hill, 168–85; William Hasker, ‘A compositional Incarnation’, Religious Studies 53, no. 4 (2007): 433-447. 6 Brian Leftow, ‘A Timeless God Incarnate’ in The Incarnation: An Interdisciplinary Symposium on the Incarnation of the Son of God, ed. Kendall & Davis, 273-302; ‘Composition and Christology’, Faith and Philosophy 28 (2011a): 310-322; ‘The Humanity of God’, in The Metaphysics of the Incarnation, ed. Marmodoro & Hill, 20-44. 20 JOSHUA R. SIJUWADE 7 Flint, in ‘Should concretists part with mereological models of the Incarnation?’, makes a distinction between different types of compositional accounts: ‘Model T’ compositional accounts and ‘Model A’ compositional accounts. A Model A account is the type of account that is assumed within the main text. However, the Model T account, which is expressed paradigmatically in the work of Thomas Aquinas, is, as Flint, ‘Should concretists part with mereological models of the Incarnation?’, 71, writes, one ‘of a substance gaining a part. More fully, as Flint writes, ‘in becoming human, the Son or Word of God…takes on [Christ’s human nature, “CHN”] as a part.’ This assumption results in GS combining both his original divine substance and his created human nature. On a Model T account, the title ‘Christ’ refers to GS, who, as noted by James Arcadi, has ‘added on or assumed an instance of human nature’. (James Arcadi, ‘Recent developments in analytic Christology’, Philosophy Compass 13, no. 4 [2018]: 6.) Thus, on this view, in the incarnation, GS assumes a concrete human nature as an expansive action. 8 Jonathan Hill, ‘Introduction’, in The Metaphysics of the Incarnation, ed. Marmodoro & Hill, 9 Leftow, ‘Composition’. 10 Crisp, God Incarnate, 56. 11 Pawl, In Defense of Conciliar Christology, 18-20. 12 Thomas Senor, ‘The compositional account of the Incarnation’, Faith and Philosophy 24, no.1 (2007): 53, square parenthesis added. 13 Leftow, ‘A Timeless God Incarnate’, 290. 14 Hill, ‘Introduction’, 18-19. 15 Senor, ‘The compositional account of the Incarnation’, 56, square parenthesis added. 16 It is thus important to note that the path taken by the present proposal to ward off these issues will not utilise the various traditional ways that have been offered by certain ‘conciliar’ theologians to deal with these issues (for an illuminating sketch of these ways, see Pawl, In Defense of Conciliar Christology. Rather, certain new concepts from analytic metaphysics—such as that of ‘first-person perspectives’, ‘aspects’, ‘ontological pluralism’ and ‘cross-count identity’, etc. —will be employed within the present context so as to enable one to deal with the present challenges raised against the Compositional Model. Thus, the model that will be formulated within the proposed analytic metaphysical framework will provide certain interpretations of important terms such as ‘person’ and ‘identity’ that were not affirmed (or disaffirmed) by the promulgators of the Chalcedonian definition (or other conciliar thinkers). However, as the focus of this article is on defending a philosophical ‘model’ of the doctrine of the incarnation—which simply enables one to understand a ‘possible’ way in which the doctrine could be true—then so long as the interpretations offered do not plausibly lead one to transgress the boundaries of orthodoxy, one can indeed proceed forward with the proposed model in hand. 17 Lynne Rudder Baker, Persons and Bodies (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000); ‘Material persons and the doctrine of resurrection’, Faith and Philosophy 18, no.2 (2001): 151– 167; ‘When Does a Person Begin?’, Social Philosophy and Policy 22 (2005): 25–48; ‘Persons and the metaphysics of resurrection’, Religious Studies 43, no.3 (2007): 333–348; Naturalism and the First-Person Perspective (New York: Oxford University Press, 2013). 18 Baker, Naturalism. 19 Baker, ‘Material persons’, 156. 20 Baker, Naturalism, 62. 21 Baker, Naturalism, 41-42. 22 Baker, Naturalism, 108. 23 Baker, ‘Persons and the metaphysics of resurrection’, 334. 24 Baker, ‘Persons and the metaphysics of resurrection’. 25 Thus, human infants are persons in virtue of them having a rudimentary first-person perspective and developing, over time, a robust first-person perspective as they mature and learn a language (Baker, Naturalism and the First-Person Perspective). 26 Baker, ‘Persons and the metaphysics of resurrection’, 334 27 Baker, ‘When Does a Person Begin?’, 28. 28 Baker, Naturalism, 150. 29 Baker, Naturalism, 65. 30 The having of a default location is thus a sufficient (though possibly not necessary) condition for bearing a first-person perspective—where the having of the same location at the same time is sufficient for being the same person. I would like to thank an anonymous reviewer for highlighting this important point. 31 Baker, Persons and Bodies, 108. 32 Baker, Persons and Bodies, 108. A (CROSS-COUNT) COMPOSITIONAL CHRISTOLOGY 33 21 Baker, Persons and Bodies, 108. Baker, Persons and Bodies. 35 This is not to say, however, that one must deny the reality of dissociative identity disorder, as Baker (in Persons and Bodies, 108) notes: … a single personality may be radically disordered, as in The Three Faces of Eve or Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Or a commissurotomy patient may be manipulated in an experimental situation into trying to put on his pants with one hand and trying to take them off with the other at the same time. But this is evidence not of two firstperson perspectives, but rather of one that has been disrupted. Indeed, most of the time, a commissurotomy patient behaves normally. 36 This account thus takes GS to have an exact location that he occupies, namely, where Christ’s body is located. More on the nature of location below. 37 One might raise the issue—as an anonymous reviewer has—of this only working for simultaneous divergent conscious experiences, but it not working for simultaneous convergent experiences, or for sequential divergent experiences. However, even if this is the case, this is not problematic for the present proposal, as, assuming for the sake of argument that GS and B + S have distinct conscious experiences (which is disaffirmed within this account on the basis that GS bears a first-person perspective and B + S does not), they would indeed have simultaneous divergent conscious experiences, over that of simultaneous convergent experiences, or sequential divergent experiences—so if the present proposal does not account for the latter type of conscious experiences, then so be it! Now, why it would be the case that GS and B + S would have simultaneous convergent experiences, rather than that of simultaneous divergent conscious experiences, is based on the fact that, first, GS is divine and thus would have conscious experiences that include within them ‘divine mental states’ and ‘divine attentive acts’. Second, B + S is human and thus would have conscious experiences that include within them ‘human mental states’ and ‘human attentive acts’. Hence, based on the different types of mental states and acts that are had by GS and B + S, these conscious experiences would be divergent rather than convergent. Moreover, these conscious experiences would also be simultaneous, rather than sequential divergent experiences, owing to the fact that GS is essentially divine, and thus when GS becomes incarnate, his divine conscious experience cannot be sequentially replaced by a human consciousness; rather, if he does possess a distinct human consciousness, this would then simply be operative concurrently with the divine consciousness—and thus the conscious experiences had by Christ would be simultaneous. 38 This builds on Leftow’s ‘A Timeless God Incarnate’, where he does not, however, employ the notion of first-person perspective and a detailed unpacking of personhood. 39 The same way that, for example, in assuming the truth of physicalism, a physical human body will be a person (derivatively) by one of its parts, the brain, bearing a first-person perspective. 40 In the model formulated here, there is an assumption of the conception of the notion of ‘person’ in the modern sense of psychological personhood, rather than the ancient sense of a ‘substrate’—a free-standingentity in the world capable of bearing properties (including psychological ones), which is indeed more obvious from the corresponding Greek word hypostasis. However, why the modern sense has been privileged over that of the more ancient sense is due to the fact that the former provides a basis for the moves that are made by the Compositional Model formulated here to deal with the Nestorian problem—such as that of a utilisation of the notion of a first-person perspective providing a means for warding off this issue. Now, utilising the modern sense of personhood does raise some potential theological/conceptual issues; however, I believe that these will be outweighed by the benefits that can be had by assuming the modern sense. 41 David Lewis, Parts Of Classes (Oxford: Blackwell, 1991). 42 Einar Bohn, ‘Composition as identity: pushing forward’, Synthese 198 (2021): 4595–4607; Megan Wallace, ‘Composition as Identity: Part 1&2’, Philosophy Compass 6, no.11: (2011): 804-827. 43 Donald L.M. Baxter, ‘Identity in the Loose and Popular Sense’, Mind XCVII, no.388 (1988): 575-582; ‘Many-One Identity’, Philosophical Papers 17, no.3 (1988): 193-216; ‘The Discernibility of Identicals’, Journal of Philosophical Research 24 (1999): 37-55; ‘Instantiation as Partial Identity’, Australasian Journal of Philosophy 79 (2001); 449-464; ‘Instantiation as Partial Identity: Replies to Critics’, Axiomathes 23 (2013): 291-299; ‘Identity, Discernibility and Composition’, in Composition as Identity, ed. D. Baxter & A. Cotnoir (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014), 244-253; ‘Aspects and the Alteration of Temporal Simples’, Manuscrito 39, no.4 (2016): 169-181; ‘Self-Differing, Aspects, and Leibniz’s Law’, Noûs 52, no.4 (2018): 900920; ‘Oneness, Aspects, and the Neo-Confucians’, in The Oneness Hypothesis: Beyond the Boundary of Self, ed. P. Ivanhoe, O. Flanagan, V. Harrison, H. Sarkissian & E. Schwitzgebel (New York: Columbia University Press, 2018). 44 Baxter, ‘Aspects and the Alteration of Temporal Simples’. 34 22 JOSHUA R. SIJUWADE 45 Baxterian (Strange) CAI is rarely interacted with in the literature, with Baxter’s account being cited rather than explored and applied to other philosophical issues. Jason Turner (in ‘Donald Baxter’s Composition as Identity’ in Composition as Identity, ed. D. Baxter & A. Cotnoir, 225-243), notes interestingly that the lack of interaction with Baxterian (Strange) CAI, compared to that of Lewisian (Weak and Strong) CAI, could be because of Lewis’s influence in contemporary philosophical thought, rather than the high utility value of the latter over the former. Furthermore, in a theological context, Shieva Kleinschmidt’s pertinent critiques of the application of CAI to the Trinity are solely aimed at the Lewisian CAI thesis, and, thus, are not applicable to the Baxterian Strange CAI thesis (Shieva Kleinschmidt, ‘Many-One Identity and the Trinity’ in Oxford Studies in Philosophy of Religion, ed. J. Kvanvig, 4th ed [Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012], 84-96). Thus, Kleinschmidt’s work, though interesting, will not be further interreacted with here. 46 Baxter, ‘Many-One Identity’. 47 Baxter, ‘Many-One Identity’, 200. 48 Baxter, ‘Many-One Identity’, 201. 49 Baxter, ‘Many-One Identity’, 201. 50 All of the subsequent issues addressed below also apply to all the other examples raised by Baxter. For an application to these examples, again see Baxter, ‘Many-One Identity’ 51 Manuel Lechthaler, ‘Composition and Identities’, PhD: University of Otago (unpublished thesis, 2017). 52 Since existence is relative to counts, it follows that identity and number are also relative to counts, as it is only things that exist that can bear the relation of identity to one another and possess the properties of being either one or being many. For a further explanation of this, see Joongol Kim, ‘Baxter and Cotnoir on Composition as Identity’, 철학사상 [CHUL HAK SA SANG: Journal of Philosophical Ideas] 73 (2019): 105-125. 53 Lechthaler, ‘Composition’, 57. 54 The issue of double-counting (i.e., counting an object more than once) is seen as an important motivation for CAI theories. For issues around this, see Wallace, ‘Composition as Identity’, and Achille C. Varzi, ‘Counting and Countenancing’, in Composition as Identity, ed. D. Baxter & A. Cotnoir, 47-69. 55 Lechthaler, ‘Composition and Identities’. 56 Lechthaler, ‘Composition and Identities’. 57 Baxter, ‘Many-One Identity’, 201. 58 Baxter, ‘Many-One Identity’, 200. 59 Turner, ‘Donald Baxter’s Composition as Identity’, 232. 60 Turner, ‘Donald Baxter’s Composition as Identity’. 61 This position here deals with one of the primary objections of Strange CAI raised by Bohn, in ‘Composition as identity’, of the ambiguous nature of counts in Baxter’s account. As mentioned above, a count is simply a domain of reality, quantified over by an elite quantifier, which we simply call a count. Ontological pluralism is a historically rooted position, which has, in contemporary philosophical thought, lost favour, but in recent times has started to make a comeback through the insightful work of Kris McDaniel: ‘Ways of Being’, in Metametaphysics: New Essays on the Foundations of Ontology, ed. D. Chalmers, D. Manley & R. Wasserman (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009), 290-319; The Fragmentation Of Being (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2017). Jason Turner, ‘Ontological Pluralism’, Journal of Philosophy 107, no.1 (2010): 5-34; ‘Logic and Ontological Pluralism’, Journal of Philosophical Logic 41, no.2 (2012): 419-448; ‘Ontological Pluralism’, in The Routledge Handbook of Metametaphysics, ed. R. Bliss & J. Miller (New York: Routledge, 2020). Ben Caplan, ‘Ontological Superpluralism’, Philosophical Perspectives 25 (2011): 79–114; and Jordan Spencer, ‘Ways of Being’, Philosophy Compass 7, no.12 (2012): 910-918. The explanation and interaction with this position, in the main text, will, unfortunately, have to be limited. For a helpful introduction to the notion of ontological Pluralism, see Spencer, ‘Ways of Being’ 62 Turner, ‘Donald Baxter’s Composition as Identity’. 63 This way of explaining counts through elite quantifiers is original, as Baxter and Turner do not further elaborate on the connection by explaining what the nature of a count is within this type of framework. Moreover, in Joshua Sijuwade, ‘The logical problem of the incarnation: A new solution’, Religious Studies 59(2) (2022): 202-222, there was an introduction and employment of the thesis of ontological pluralism (and the notion of an ‘aspect’) within a christological context. This article can thus be taken to be a further development of the themes explored there. 64 Baxter, ‘Identity in the Loose and Popular Sense’. 65 Baxter, ‘Many-One Identity’. 66 Baxter, ‘Identity in the Loose and Popular Sense’, 193, emphasis added. A (CROSS-COUNT) COMPOSITIONAL CHRISTOLOGY 67 23 More on this important point below. Baxter, ‘Identity, Discernibility and Composition’. 69 Baxter, “Instantiation as Partial Identity’, also utilises the notion of aspects in a different context to elucidate the instantiation relation between particulars and universals. 70 Baxter, ‘The Discernibility of Identicals’. 71 Baxter, ‘Self-Differing, Aspects, and Leibniz’s Law’. 72 Turner, ‘Donald Baxter’s Composition as Identity’, 227. 73 As Baxter, in ‘Self-Differing, Aspects, and Leibniz’s Law’, 914, writes: ‘aspects should not be confused with Casteneda’s guises, or Fine’s qua-objects, or other such attenuated entities’. 74 Jerrold Levinson, ‘Properties and Related Entities’, Philosophy and Phenomenological Research 39 (1978): 2. 75 This functional role fulfilled by an aspect is similar to that of ‘mode’, which has recently been re-introduced into the literature by Jonathan Lowe in The Four Category Ontology (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006), 23-24, and John Heil, The Universe as we Find It (Oxford; Oxford University Press), 3-4. However, the central difference between an aspect and a mode is that the former, and not the latter, is numerically identical to the individual that bears it. 76 In reference to aspects, there will be an interchanging of the term ‘qualities’ with the term ‘properties’. However, the former term is preferable to the latter term, as it helps us to ward off mistaking the entities that are born by aspects to be further entities that are ontologically different from them. 77 More on this below. 78 Baxter, ‘Self-Differing, Aspects, and Leibniz’s Law’, 916. 79 Joaquim Giannotti, ‘The Identity Theory of Powers Revised’, Erkenntnis 86 (2021): 603–621, 2. 80 Baxter, ‘The Discernibility of Identicals’, 2. 81 Baxter, ‘Aspects and the Alteration of Temporal Simples’, 178. 82 Baxter, ‘Aspects and the Alteration of Temporal Simples’, 178. 83 Baxter, ‘Self-Differing, Aspects, and Leibniz’s Law’, 172. 84 Baxter, ‘Many-One Identity’. 85 Baxter, ‘Many-One Identity’, 207, emphasis added. 86 Baxter, ‘Many-One Identity’. 87 Baxter, ‘Many-One Identity’. 88 Baxter, ‘Many-One Identity’, 208. 89 Baxter, ‘Many-One Identity’, 208. 90 Though again qualitatively discernible from them. 91 More specifically, the part is (cross-count) identical to its image, which is, in turn, (intra-count) identical to the whole. By transitivity, the part is (cross-count) identical to the whole. 92 Baxter, ‘Many-One Identity’, 209. 93 Turner, ‘Donald Baxter’s Composition as Identity’. 94 Baxter, ‘Many-One Identity’, 206. 95 Turner, ‘Donald Baxter’s Composition as Identity’. 96 Turner, ‘Donald Baxter’s Composition as Identity’, 234. 97 Turner, ‘Donald Baxter’s Composition as Identity’. 98 Baxter, ‘Many-One Identity’, 206. 99 Turner, ‘Donald Baxter’s Composition as Identity’, 235 notes that the notion of location (or occupational regions) is central to Baxter’s position here. Thus, following Turner, who builds on the influential and foundational work of Josh Parsons in ‘Theories of Location’, in Oxford Studies in Metaphysics, ed. D. Zimmerman, 3rd ed (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007), 201-232, we can make the notion of occupational and location relations that play a part in this more explicit. Firstly, capital letters are used as terms for regions, ‘⊆’ is used as a ‘subregion’ predicate and ‘@’ is used as an ‘occupies’ predicate. And for simplicity, we assume that regions don’t have aspects: ‘Ry[φ(y)]’ isn’t well-formed. Thus the use of ‘@’ previously treated it, as Turner notes, as expressing the occupational relation of pervading: where if an object pervades a region, then it fills all of its region and maybe more besides that region (Turner, ‘Donald Baxter’s Composition as Identity’). A definition can also be adduced that expresses the relation of exact occupation (Turner, ‘Donald Baxter’s Composition as Identity’, 235): Exact Occupation: x@!R = df. x@R ∧ ∀S(x@S → S ⊆ R). That is, an object x exactly occupies a region R iff it occupies (that is, pervades) R and no other region other than R’s sub-regions (Turner, ‘Donald Baxter’s Composition as Identity’). Two further principles about location, provided by Turner (in ‘Donald Baxter’s Composition as Identity’), can also be defined: 68 24 JOSHUA R. SIJUWADE Exactness: ∀cx∃R(x@!R). Functionality: ∀cx∀R∀S((x@!R ∧ x@!S) → R = S). Each material object (and any aspect of the object) exactly occupies just one specific region, which can be termed its location. And by a principle termed by Turner as ‘inheritance’, we can also assume that every object (and aspect) occupies all sub-regions of the region that it exactly occupies (i.e., its location) (Turner, ‘Donald Baxter’s Composition as Identity’). Furthermore, to block counter-examples, a further principle needs to be adduced: Aspect Location: ∀cx∀R(∃dz(z = xy[y@R]) → xy[y@R]@!R). This principle suggests that regional aspects must be located at their respective reason, and from this, parts must be located at the subregions of the wholes to which they are ‘identical’. 100 Turner, ‘Donald Baxter’s Composition as Identity’. 101 This identification is cross-count identity, rather than intra-count identity, simply for the fact that Peely and Ottoy[y@P] and Innie and Ottoy[y@I] cannot exist in the same count. 102 A question concerning the relation between cross-count identity and actual identity can be raised here again. That is, one could ask why exactly cross-count identity should be viewed as actual identity? The reason is simply that the object-as-occupying-the-part’s-location and the part itself seem to be ways of getting at the same object, just from the perspective of different counts. Thus, it’s not too much of a stretch to say they are actually identical, simply across counts (i.e., different domains of reality). 103 Baxter, ‘Many-One Identity’, 214. 104 We can use the symbol ≈ for cross-count identity and the usual = for intra-count identity. 105 Such as GS having the quality of having no weight and B having the quality of having a certain weight. 106 And in count , we do not have Christ and its aspects, but instead his parts GS, B, and S. p 107 Turner, ‘Donald Baxter’s Composition as Identity’, 236, emphasis added. 108 One could raise the objection that the model that has been developed here does not correspond to that of Chalcedon, as interpreted by the later conciliar tradition—such as that of Constantinople III, where the one person, Christ, is taken to have two wills and centres of action in each of the two natures. One might say that the present model is not only ‘monothelite’, but also eliminates, rather than incorporates, the human consciousness from the person of Christ. In response to this, however, one can raise the issue of there being a mistaken assumption that for Christ to have two wills (and centres of action), he must also have two centres of consciousness. Rather, following the influential work of Jonathan Lowe, ‘The Will as a Rational Free Power’, in Powers and Capacities in Philosophy: the New. Aristotelianism, ed. R. Groff and J. Greco (New York: Routledge, 2013), 172-185, one can conceive of a ‘will’ as a ‘property’ that is a ‘rational and free power’. Hence, given this, one can then instead interpret the nature of the wills possessed by Christ to be that of ‘powers’—that is, types of properties—that are exemplified by each of his natures. And thus, Christ can be one person with one consciousness but possess two wills—and hence, the present model corresponds to Constantinople III’s dyothelite requirements. More specifically, Christ, as a particular object, is a persisting concrete entity that is a bearer of properties that includes a set of powers. Some of these properties—the properties corresponding to his human nature, which we can call the h-attributes—began to be exemplified by Christ from the moment of the incarnation. And a certain set of these attributes—the properties corresponding to his divine nature, which we can call the d-attributes—are ones which had always been exemplified. Importantly, within the collection of h-attributes and d-attributes are both a human will and divine will—with the human will being a power present within the collection of h-attributes and the divine will being a power present within the collection of d-attributes. These powers are ‘token powers’ and thus are each individuated by their manifestation types, their bearer and their time of existence. That is, firstly, Christ’s token power of the human will is individuated by its manifestation type, willing a certain range of human actions, as Christ, which is its bearer, and the time at which Christ possesses this token power. Secondly, Christ’s token power of the divine will is individuated by its manifestation type, willing a certain range of divine actions, as Christ, which is its bearer, and the time at which Christ possesses this token power. Thus, the identity of the token powers of Christ’s human and divine wills are fixed or entirely determined by the powers that they are: human and divine wills—when possessed by Christ at a specific time. Christ’s human and divine wills are each spontaneous powers (i.e., active, non-causal powers) as their exercise are never caused by some other entity acting upon Christ, and they do not consist in the causing of anything to happen. Furthermore, Christ’s human and divine wills are ‘free’, ‘two-way’ powers to choose to act or refrain from acting over a range of human and divine actions, with each action of both of these wills being made in the ‘light of reason’ and thus them having a rational explanation for their exercise. Thus, the divine and human wills, as powers that are part of the collection of d-attributes and h-attributes exemplified by Christ, are real and distinct entities had by Christ. Thus, contra the objection raised here, the present model—which is able to assume this specific view concerning the nature of a will—can be taken to be one that posits a dyothelite view of Christ, despite there not being two centres of consciousness, as Christ can be taken to possess two wills: A (CROSS-COUNT) COMPOSITIONAL CHRISTOLOGY 25 a divine will, which is a property conceived of as a power, and human will, which is also a property conceived of as a power. And these wills are ‘concrete’, as each of these wills is rightly conceived of as a distinct, mindindependent power (i.e., attribute) possessed—or, more specifically, exemplified—by Christ. For more on this account of the wills of Christ, see Joshua R. Sijuwade, ‘A Transformational Incarnation’, TheoLogica: An International Journal for Philosophy of Religion and Philosophical Theology 7, no.1 (2022): 1-37.