Hagia Sapientia

SPE SALVI

2007-12-21T12:12:00.000-05:00

We must return once more to the New Testament. In the eleventh chapter of the Letter to the Hebrews we find a kind of definition of faith which closely links this virtue with hope. Ever since the Reformation there has been a dispute among exegetes over the central word of this phrase, but today a way towards a common interpretation seems to be opening up once more. For the time being I shall leave this central word untranslated. The sentence therefore reads as follows: “Faith is the hypostasis of things hoped for; the proof of things not seen.” For the Fathers and for the theologians of the Middle Ages, it was clear that the Greek word hypostasis was to be rendered in Latin with the term substantia. The Latin translation of the text produced at the time of the early Church therefore reads: Est autem fides sperandarum substantia rerum, argumentum non apparentium - faith is the “substance” of things hoped for; the proof of things not seen. Saint Thomas Aquinas, using the terminology of the philosophical tradition to which he belonged, explains it as follows: faith is a habitus, that is, a stable disposition of the spirit, through which eternal life takes root in us and reason is led to consent to what it does not see. The concept of “substance” is therefore modified in the sense that through faith, in a tentative way, or as we might say “in embryo” - and thus according to the “substance” - there are already present in us the things that are hoped for: the whole, true life. And precisely because the thing itself is already present, this presence of what is to come also creates certainty: this “thing” which must come is not yet visible in the external world (it does not “appear”), but because of the fact that, as an initial and dynamic reality, we carry it within us, a certain perception of it has even now come into existence. To Luther, who was not particularly fond of the Letter to the Hebrews, the concept of “substance”, in the context of his view of faith, meant nothing. For this reason he understood the term hypostasis/substance not in the objective sense (of a reality present within us), but in the subjective sense, as an expression of an interior attitude, and so, naturally, he also had to understand the term argumentum as a disposition of the subject. In the twentieth century this interpretation became prevalent - at least in Germany - in Catholic exegesis too, so that the ecumenical translation into German of the New Testament, approved by the Bishops, reads as follows: Glaube aber ist: Feststehen in dem, was man erhofft, Überzeugtsein von dem, was man nicht sieht (faith is: standing firm in what one hopes, being convinced of what one does not see). This in itself is not incorrect, but it is not the meaning of the text, because the Greek term used (elenchos) does not have the subjective sense of “conviction” but the objective sense of “proof.” Rightly, therefore, recent Protestant exegesis has arrived at a different interpretation: “Yet there can be no question but that this classical Protestant understanding is untenable.” Faith is not merely a personal reaching out towards things to come that are still totally absent: it gives us something. It gives us even now something of the reality we are waiting for, and this present reality constitutes for us a “proof” of the things that are still unseen. Faith draws the future into the present, so that it is no longer simply a “not yet.” The fact that this future exists changes the present; the present is touched by the future reality, and thus the things of the future spill over into those of the present and those of the present into those of the future. (7)

Pensées September 21, 2007

2007-09-21T16:00:00.000-05:00

The real insight of Augustine’s psychological analogy for the Trinity is not its “explanation” of the fecund mystery of the divine nature, but rather its discovery that the mind is a created pattern of Trinitarian existence naturally and supernaturally - by divine grace – fit for participation in Uncreated Life.

Pensées August 13, 2007

2007-08-13T15:33:00.000-05:00

Catholic theology takes for its proper object the mysteries of faith per se. Evangelical theology, on the other hand, takes as its proper object the mysteries of faith per scriptura. Thus while there is an analogous formal object (the text being a divine communication in words and propositions of the substantial truth), there is a strikingly different material object evinced by the methods of analysis.

Evangelical theology draws near to its object exclusively by means of a grammatical and logical analysis of the text, carrying out its investigation entirely within the dimensions of a literary phenomenon.

Catholic theology, on the other hand, encounters its object both intra-textually and extra-textually. Once it has found its object by means of the text, it must take hold of the substantial mystery (the object per se). This act is one which necessarily transcends the interpretation of the embodiment of the mystery in text and enters upon an encounter of understanding and love of the great truth itself, an encounter which yields insights not predetermined by the text.

Pensées August 8, 2007

2007-08-08T10:24:00.000-05:00

If evil is a privation of good, it is necessary that arguments in favor of evil suffer an analogous privation of reason. This is why arguments in support of immortality are bereft of intelligibility, as is evident to those who are looking for it.

Ecumenical Dialogue

2007-07-23T14:27:00.000-05:00

A Catholic friend of mine had a very good conversation recently about the latest CDF clarification regarding Catholic Theology of the Church and how it relates to the Orthodox.

'What is missing from the particular expression which the Orthodox churches, both individually and collectively, give to the universal Church is that element of the universal Church which I have described as the Petrine ministry. Since the Apostolic Church, gathered on that first Pentecost Sunday, in the fellowship of the body of Christ, with the Theotokos, under the headship of Peter, is the most pure expression of the universal Church, the absence of any one of those elements would constitute an imperfect expression of the universal Church.'

The Office of Tenebrae, Dominican House of Studies

2007-07-18T15:46:00.001-05:00

Seven Interesting Facts about the History of the Filioque in the West

2007-07-17T12:24:00.000-05:00

The fathers of the Second Ecumenical Council of Constantinople (381) did not intend to define the manner of the Spirit’s procession from the Father, but only to affirm, in language acceptable to the various positions which existed at the time, the full divinity of the Spirit.

The Second Ecumenical Council of Constantinople (381) was not regarded universally as an ecumenical council, especially in the West, until it was declared such by the Fourth Ecumenical Council at Chalcedon (451).

During this time (381-451) there were in the West other forms of the creed, such as The Apostles’. At the same time, there was a tradition coming from the Latin fathers, especially Augustine, which taught the doctrine of the filioque.

Due to distance, cultural difference, language, human error, etc. (historians do not know the exact details), in the 6th century a Latin version of the original creed of Constantinople was published in Spain by the local council of Toledo which added the filioque. It appears that this council considered the filioque clause part of the original. This indicates that such confusion might have been common in the West. Also, it was taken to be an anti-Arian clause, which made it natural, though incorrect, to assume that it was part of the original creed of Constantinople. It is about this time, in both the East and the West that the creed began to be said in the celebration of the Eucharist.

By the 8th century the Carolingian Empire was competing with the Byzantine Empire for its claim to be the true heir to the Roman Imperium in the West. In this context, the filioque (as a doctrine as much as a liturgical addition) had a two-fold function. First, it served the interests of Frankish theologians, especially Alcuin, to condemn what appeared to them to be the heresy of adoptionism in some Spanish churches. Second, it was used by Charlemagne, in his political struggle, to question the orthodoxy of the Byzantine court. It is important to note that, at this time, the filioque clause was added to the original creed of Constantinople in the Frankish dominions but not in those of the Roman See.

Despite Papal support for the theology of the filioque – which had a firm foundation in the Latin fathers – and which was expressed in defense of Western monks in Jerusalem who has been accused by Eastern monks in the early 9th century of heresy for their addition of the filioque to the Latin version of the creed of Constantinople, the filioque clause was deliberately not added to the text of the original Greek or its Latin translation by the Popes of Rome. In fact, the creed itself was introduced into the Mass in Rome not until the 11th century. By that time the Western Empire has passed from the Franks to the Germans and the filioque was added to the original creed of Constantinople in Latin in the Roman rite.

There were two major reunion councils in the medieval period attended by representatives of the Eastern Churches. The first was the Second Council of Lyons (1274). This council was hostile to any view of the origin of the Holy Spirit other than that expressed by the filioque. The second was the Council of Ferrara-Florence. It was attended by representatives from the churches of Constantinople, Alexandria, Antioch, and Jerusalem. It recognized the legitimacy of the Western view of the Spirit’s eternal procession and suggested that the filioque was the same in meaning as certain expressions used by the Greek fathers of the Church in which the Spirit is said to proceed “through the Son.” The decrees of neither of these councils were accepted in the East. The latter council marked the end of serious reunion efforts until the 20th century.

Pensées July 10, 2007

2007-07-10T11:44:00.000-05:00

Some scientists, especially the popularizes, claim to embrace philosophical materialism for scientific reasons. Yet, many philosophers know that there are no scientific reasons for philosophical materialism. In fact, philosophical materialism does not fit the criteria of a scientific hypothesis. It is neither quantifiable nor empirical. Neither is the argument that hypothetical materialism is more suited to scientific endeavor to any effect since the method is limited to the mathematical principles of natural objects and is neutral with regard to immaterial objects.

Thus the claim to espouse philosophical materialism for scientific reasons is, at root, confusion common among non-philosophers, whether they are scientists or not.

Pensées June 4, 2007

2007-07-04T15:00:00.000-05:00

Most scientists are not philosophers.

As such, some scientists commit the same intellectual errors typical of other non-philosophers.

The antireligious bias and vehemence of some popularizers of scientific knowledge only exacerbates and illustrates this problem.

2007-06-25T13:57:00.000-05:00

I will not give in, because I oppose it.

Not my pride, not my spleen, nor any other of my appetites, but I do, I.

St. Philaret On Tradition and Divine Attributes

2007-05-22T11:37:00.001-05:00

The following questions are taken from the authorized English translation of the Catechism of St. Philaret, Metropolitan of Moscow, 1821 to 1867, whose official title is A Full Catechism of the Orthodox Catholic Church of the East, examined and approved by the Most Holy Governing Synod, and published for the Use of Schools and of all Orthodox Christians, by order of His Imperial Majesty (1839). According to Schaff, the Catechism was unanimously approved by all the Eastern Patriarchs.

The following questions (17 & 18) give a good definition of what is meant by the word ‘Tradition’ with respect to its mode of transmission and content. Note my comments in brackets.

17. What is meant by the name holy tradition?

By the name holy tradition is meant the doctrine of the faith, the law of God, the sacraments, and the ritual as handed down by the true believers and worshipers of God [note that it does not say Bishops or Magisterium] by word and example from one to another, and from generation to generation.

18. Is there any sure repository of holy tradition?

All true believers united by the holy tradition of the faith [as defined above], collectively and successively, by the will of God, compose the Church; and she is the sure repository of holy tradition, or, as St. Paul expresses it, The Church of the living God, the pillar and ground of the truth.

The following question (21) is a good synopsis of the need to recognize the historical primacy of Tradition.

21. Which is the more ancient, holy tradition or holy Scripture?

The most ancient and original instrument for spreading divine revelation is holy tradition. From Adam to Moses there were no sacred books. Our Lord Jesus Christ himself delivered his divine doctrine and ordinances to his Disciples by word and example, but not by writing. The same method was followed by the Apostles also at first, when they spread abroad the faith and established the Church of Christ. The necessity of tradition is further evident from this, that books can be available only to a small part of mankind, but tradition to all.

The following question (22) addresses the purpose of sacred Scripture in light of the comprehensive nature of Tradition. The answer given does not seem to reflect the per se sovereignty and solidity of Tradition sometimes insisted on by enthusiastic Orthodox. It also seems to imply a priority to Scripture in the determination of Apostolic teaching.

22. Why, then, was holy Scripture given?

To this end, that divine revelation might be preserved more exactly and unchangeably. In holy Scripture we read the words of the Prophets and Apostles precisely as if we were living with them and listening to them, although the latest of the sacred books were written a thousand and some hundred years before our time.

The following questions (84 & 86), taken from the First Part of the Catechism, on Faith, do not appear to reflect the Palamite distinction between essence and energies in so far as it speaks of the “essential attributes of God” and even lists among them some conspicuous examples of the former.

84. Can we know the very essence of God?

No. It is above all knowledge, not of men only, but of angels.

86. What idea of the essence and essential attributes of God may be derived from divine revelation?

That God is a Spirit, eternal, all-good, omniscient, all-just, almighty, omnipresent, unchangeable, all-sufficing to himself, all-blessed.

Scripture and Tradition

2007-05-07T15:52:00.000-05:00

The idea of Sacred Tradition has undergone a great deal of development over the centuries. The material distinction between Scriptural Doctrine and the Doctrines of Tradition was not made a formal part of theological study until the 14th c. at the earliest (it most notably appeared among the counciliarist theologians associated with the Council of Constance and its condemnation of Wycliffe’s doctrines, among which was a primitive form of sola scriptura). And even then there were those who objected to the idea that a doctrine (de fide) can be established without any appeal to the literal sense of the Sacred Text. Aquinas (who saw this issue very differently than some of his later hyper-Papal brother Dominicans) had already asserted the necessity of Scriptural support for doctrine:

"Nevertheless...nothing necessary to faith is contained under the spiritual sense [of the biblical text] which is not elsewhere put forward by the Scripture in its literal sense." STh, I., q. 1, ad. 3

The Ecumenical Council of Trent (as has been noted by several scholars including Yves Congar and Joseph Ratzinger) did not decide the question of whether Sacred Tradition is a secondary source of doctrine in the sense that it supplies doctrines not found either explicitly or implicitly in Sacred Scripture or whether it only exhibits (albeit in a different and equally authoritative way) the same doctrine substantially contained within the Apostolic Writings. The Second Vatican Ecumenical Council may have in fact decided in favor of the older (second) view. When it says, "Sacred Tradition and sacred Scripture, then, are bound closely together, and communicate one with the other (DV, 9)", it seems to be saying that they contain the same doctrine, i.e., communicate, 'share' in the same substance, which is the Doctrine of the Gospel. Granted, it leaves the Theology of Revelation with respect to this issue still undeveloped and ambiguous when it says that "[they] come together in some fashion to form one thing, and move towards the same goal (ibid.)", but then it also says, "Sacred Tradition and sacred Scripture make up a single sacred deposit of the Word of God, which is entrusted to the Church." The word "single" in the previous sentence seems to corroborate the interpretation already given to the meaning of the word "communicate". Either way, it is false to claim that there is a definite teaching of the Church on this matter.

The Orthodox Church, on the other hand, seems to have a much less definite view of the relationship between Scripture and Tradition, giving priority to Holy Tradition. The Reformation doctrine of sola scriptura has its roots in the primacy of Scripture characteristic of the Western Roman Catholic theological tradition.

Reflections on Orthodox Catholic Differences

2007-05-07T15:43:00.000-05:00

Some thoughts I had yesterday at Mass regarding the differences between the Western Catholic and Eastern Orthodox Churches.

The spirituality of the Western Church – borrowing a metaphor from sacramental and liturgical theology – could be described as an imminent (this-worldly) Eucharist; whereas the Eastern would then have to be described as a transcendent (other-worldly) Eucharist. By this I am not saying that either Church essentially lacks imminence or transcendence, but rather that in each Church, respectively, one or the other is a dominant element. Obviously, both Churches seek a balance; the particular character of that synthesis is, however, different. Similarly, the doctrine of the Incarnation is the distinguishing principle in the Western Church; whereas the doctrine of Deification is the distinguishing principle in the Eastern Church. Again, both Churches embrace these doctrines in their essential relatedness; however, with differing emphasis and priority.

No one can dispute the transportative character of the Divine Liturgy. This is not a feature of the Holy Mass (even before the change of the Liturgy). The very materials used to express the spiritual qualities of worship between these two Churches exhibit the aforementioned attitude (ex., icons vs. freestanding statues).

The reason for this is primarily historical. At the zenith of Byzantine Christianity in the early Middle Ages the Eastern Roman Empire was largely intact and expanding. The Church’s spiritual – as opposed to secular – role was much easier to distinguish than in the West. The Church in the East was the godlike or deified community whose sights were set on heaven since the control of all things terrestrial was securely in the hands of the Emperor (so long as he was not a heretic). In the West, however, the state was largely gone and society was both in ruins and chaotic. It was forced upon the Church to take over the reigns of government. Despite how awful this fusion of sacred and secular power may have been, the worldly interests of the Church – both virtuous and vicious – were providentially determined by the cultural catastrophe faced (often bravely) by the clerics and the monks of the 5th through the 10th century.

The dynamic unfolding (sometimes called “development” from an historical point-of-view) of Western Civilization never ceased to affect the interior life of the Western Church. This is most evident in the 13th, 15th, and 20th centuries. It is not, however, a case of simple accommodation. Granted, the Eastern Church at a certain point (or points) ceased to be affected by this evolution and became (much like Hasidic Judaism and, today, Islam in Western still-Christian/secular societies) a self-contained overtly religious culture. On the other hand, the Western Church’s capacity for modernization (to use the word loosely) gives it a distinct advantage in the proclamation, application, and defense of the Gospel. Three areas in which this is most evident are (what is commonly called) social justice, philosophy and science.

Whether it is proper to say that God abandoned Christ at the moment of His crucifixion?

2007-03-21T14:31:00.000-05:00

I answer that God is in things [i.e., they are related to him] in certain common and special ways. He is in everything by essence, according to which he is in a thing as an efficient cause is in its effect; by presence, according to which all things are known to him; and by power, according to which all things are subject to his influence. He is in rational creatures in a special way by grace which produces the habits of knowing and loving God which is a kind of presence of the object known in the knower and the object loved in the lover. God is in Christ is an utterly unique way by hypostatic-union.

Now the common ways in which God is everywhere and in everything are inviolable and limitless. Whereas the special presence by which God is in the rational creature by grace can be removed, as David laments in the psalm, “Do not drive me from your presence, nor take from me your holy spirit.” (51: 13 NAB)

The union of manhood and Godhead in one person in Christ is an inseparable union. It is also the cause of the fullness-of-grace in his soul (John 1:14), for no creature can be more conformed to the divine nature than the manhood of Christ that subsists in one person with it. In the unique activity of Christ the theandric (divine human) co-operation so perfectly conforms the created nature to the uncreated as to make it an efficient instrument of the latter. Thus the soul of Christ by its proximity to the source of grace, i.e., the divine nature, becomes the very fountainhead of grace in the world (John 1:16).

This is no truer than in the Atonement where the God-Man gave up his own created life as a sacrifice for sin, redemption of sinners, and victory over death and the devil. Were God to remove from Christ at this moment the grace in his soul, such taking away would make the Atonement impossible for two reasons: [1] It would no longer be a theandric act since the principle by which the human nature conformed to the divine would no longer be present and [2] the charity by which the Savior offered himself freely for love of God would have been removed with the grace.

Divine Abandonment and the Hypostatic Union

2007-03-12T10:47:00.000-05:00

Sometimes the suffering of Christ is described as the effect of God’s wrath pored out on the Savior who stands in the place of the sinner. The form which this divine wrath takes is the abandonment of the suffering Christ, not just in the sense of delivering him up to his enemies, but in the more profound sense of removing from the soul of Jesus God’s sanctifying presence. This is said to be the meaning of the words, “My God, My God, why have you abandoned me?” Sometimes a further step is taken and the loss is attributed to the divinity of the Savior resulting in an intra-Trinitarian suffering.

It must be asked whether any of this comports with the Chalcedonian dogma of the unmixed and inseparable natures that subsist together in the Incarnate Word? Clearly the latter view is irreconcilable with the traditional notion of the simplicity and immutability of the divine essence as well as the consubstantiality of the divine persons. The former, however, is perhaps reconcilable. The pertinent question is to what extent “abandonment” means “separation” from the divine nature.

2007-01-31T14:46:00.000-05:00

'I had rather believe all the fables of the Legend and the Talmud and the Alcoran, than that this universal frame [the Universe] is without a mind; and, therefore, God never wrought miracle to convince Atheism, because His ordinary works convince it. It is true, that a little philosophy inclineth man’s mind to Atheism; but depth in philosophy bringeth men’s minds about to religion.'

Francis Bacon (1561-1626) ‘Of Atheism’, Essays.

2007-01-25T09:28:00.000-05:00

God our Father, you taught the gospel to all the world through the preaching of Paul your apostle. May we who celebrate his conversion to the faith follow him in bearing witness to your truth. We ask this through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

The Significance of Abraham’s Justification for Paul’s Defense of Justification Apart from the Law

2007-01-23T16:17:00.000-05:00

I wrote the following as a graduate student for a course in Pauline Soteriology. It obviously does not reflect expertise in either the Pauline epistles or the New Testament in general. This is because I am not a Scripture scholar nor have I read a great deal of what is called the “New Perspective” on St. Paul. I do find, however, that when the epistles are placed within a broad context it helps to illuminate the meaning of justification by faith.

This paper will examine the manner in which St. Paul applies the account of Abraham’s justification (Genesis 15:6) in defense of justification by faith apart from the works of the Law. It will focus on the importance to the Apostle of the order of events in the Genesis narrative which places Abraham’s justification prior to the Covenant of Circumcision. It will be shown that the centrality of this text and the related theme of justification by faith are entirely determined by the conflict between the Apostle to the Gentiles and certain Jewish Christians who taught, on the basis of the same narrative authority, the necessity of keeping circumcision and other aspects of the Law.

The letters of the Apostle Paul, especially those adorned with legal and exegetical subtleties, document at least one side of the first great debate – and possibly schism – in the history of the Church. It had to do with the relationship between the Gospel, specifically the lives of those who believe in it, and the Mosaic Law, established – seemingly in perpetuity – on Mt. Sinai. From the point-of-view of certain evangelists, centered in Jerusalem and unnamed in the Pauline correspondence, the relationship between God and Israel cannot not be revoked, receded nor superseded. Indeed it is fulfilled by the advent of the Messiah, but fulfillment means a more perfect submission and a more universal reception.

On the other hand, the Apostle’s radical doctrine of the saving work of God in Christ maintains that it is substantive, complete and eschatological precisely because it is the fulfillment of the ancient promises made in connection with the Covenant.

Both interpretations have momentous consequences. The Evangelists [the “opponents” from hereon] apparently teach that non-Jewish believers must be circumcised (Gal 5:3) and thereby become obedient to the Law. Paul, on the other hand, teaches that neither circumcision nor uncircumcision have any covenantal significance (Rom 5:6).

There is, as in all debates, a common language and common authorities between the opposing sides. Both Paul and his opponents speak of Abraham as the “Father” of Jewish and gentile believers. Both appeal to the Abraham narrative in support of their respective views.

In order to gain a better appreciation for the particulars of the debate which lies behind the Pauline emphasis on justification by faith, I will examine it in three aspects. First, the polemical context in which Paul’s expressions and arguments were shaped. Second, the exegetical methodology of his self-defense. Third, what consequences such contextualization has for certain dogmatic assumptions made about the Apostle’s statements regarding faith and works of the Law.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Basilius Cardinal Bessarion

2007-01-18T10:01:00.000-05:00

In 1436 he was made Bishop of Nicæa by John VIII Palæologus – though he was not destined to ever see his diocese – and asked to accompany the Emperor to the Council of Ferrara, in part to plead for western support in Constantinople's final struggle against the Ottoman Turks. Here his dignity and touching eloquence, as well as his vast theological erudition, gave him such great authority among the Greek bishops that the happy issue of the council – reunion with the Latin Church – may be attributed in great part to him. This was fully recognized on 6 July 1439, in the cathedral of Florence, to which the council had been transferred, when he was commissioned to read the Greek redaction of the Act of Union.

Bessarion returned to Greece, but during the same year is found once more at Florence with Eugenius IV, who, in the consistory of 18 December, 1439 (according to others 8 January, 1440), created him cardinal of the title of the Twelve Holy Apostles. At the same time another Greek, Archbishop Isidore, received the sacred purple. The brief duration of the union of the churches is well known. Bessarion himself, having changed to the Latin Rite was cordially hated by the dissenting Greeks. This notwithstanding, Bessarion continued to work zealously for the union of the other Oriental churches, the Jacobites and Ethiopians (1442), the Syrians (1444), the Chaldeans and Maronites (1445). At this time, also, to refute the accusations of Marcus of Ephesus, against the council, he wrote the book: "De successu synodi florentinæ".

In July 1463, Pius II sent Bessarion to Venice as papal legate. In order to win the favor of a city notorious for its reluctance to allow credit to any 'foreign' notable, Bessarion donated his celebrated library of Greek manuscripts to the city, where they became the nucleus of the Biblioteca Marciana. All the aspirations of Bessarion, which, more than great, were unique, were absorbed by three ideas: the union of the Oriental Church with the Latin, the rescue of Greek lands from the Muslim yoke, and the triumph of classic literature and philosophy, especially the Greek. If the realization of the first two was only partial or, in a way, temporary, the third was certainly fulfilled to a more complete degree than perhaps Bessarion himself had dared hope.

He died at the Abbey of St. John the Evangelist on 18 November 1472. His body was taken to Rome and interred in a tomb which had been erected in a portico close by the Basilica of the Twelve Holy Apostles. A simple sarcophagus, on which is inscribed a Greek distich of his own composition, contains his remains.

The Ends of Science

2007-01-17T10:35:00.000-05:00

Selections from Eric Cohen's article in First Things, 167 (November 2006): 26-30.

....The trouble is that most scientists — at least most modern biologists, whose work dominates the public imagination about science — do not seem to reflect much or deeply about the limits of their method, or about the moral significance of the ends they seek and the means they use....In the public realm, most biologists seem, all too often, like scientific geniuses and moral simpletons, applying rational rigor to their investigations of nature but relying on feeling as their only moral compass. And for all its appreciation of nature’s complexity, the scientific mind seems no rival for the Bible or Aristotle or Machiavelli in understanding human complexity. Next to the philosopher, the neuroscientist still looks, all too often, like a fool....

For it turns out that the methods of science cannot vindicate the ends of science, and the knowledge acquired by scientific methods cannot always justify the particular experiments used to acquire it. Yet scientists desperately want such vindication in the eyes of their fellow citizens: Good science (meaning interesting, promising, exciting) needs to be seen as good (meaning virtuous, praiseworthy, compassionate) by everyone. And so scientists have invented a new method to defend the unfettered freedom of the old one: They claim the mantle of science while making ethical claims (“embryo research is good”) that rest on no special scientific basis at all, and they portray their opponents as antiscience for raising ethical questions that are entirely consistent with the scientific facts (“embryological development begins at conception”)….

From the beginning, science was driven by both democratic pity and aristocratic guile, by the promise to help humanity and the desire to be free from the constraints of the common man, with his many myths and superstitions and taboos. The modern scientist comes to heal the wretched bodies of those whose meager minds are always a threat to experimental knowledge. Salomon’s House, where the elite of Bacon’s scientific utopia would decide which inventions to publish and which to hide, existed both to protect men from science and science from men. It offers a new salvation and seeks to elude the oppressive trappings of the old one. It brings a new compassion and a new contempt. This was true in the beginning, and it is true today….

[C]all it the original sin of the scientific Enlightenment— [it] still haunts modern science: Perpetual progress is not the same thing as perfection. Infinite progress also means infinite discontent, as man is left in a state of eternal becoming with no end. “Indefinite perfectibility,” Condorcet’s dream, is an irreconcilable contradiction.

Perfection, after all, is an end, a limit, something definite. Christ embodies the perfection of love. The philosopher grasps the perfection of knowledge. Yet the scientist destroys the possibility of perfection by seeing a world in permanent flux. Perhaps the only perfection available to the modern scientist is stoic acceptance of contingency on the way to oblivion—and indeed, there is no necessary contradiction between stoic philosophy and modern natural science. Yet stoic acceptance of nature is precisely what modern science, technological from the beginning, is incapable of embracing in spirit. Modern science portrays a world where acceptance of our fate within nature is all we can do, and yet it remakes knowledge in such a way that technological striving is seen as the only thing worth doing. Modern biology, like Sisyphus, is haunted by temporary successes and ultimate failure. It fends off death but cannot eradicate it; it explains death’s role in natural selection but not the death of individual men still thirsty for salvation….

[Max] Weber’s essay on “science as a vocation” is perhaps the best starting point for understanding the limits of scientific aspiration in our time. Weber praised scientists for living in the world of facts and criticized those who sought salvation by pretending that the old gods still exist. But he also reminded scientists that they have nothing privileged to say about the realm of value, the realm that matters most to human beings seeking knowledge of how to live. Like everyone else, the scientist must decide which ends to pursue, which gods to serve, which demon will “hold the very fibers of his life.” And these are exactly the questions that the scientific method cannot answer. Divine salvation may be an illusion but so is believing that science can tell us how to live in the world it dissects and describes, and how to live well in a world where scientific power is so readily, so seductively, so dangerously, at our disposal….

In every area of public life where science and morality intersect, there are questions about the use of science that science itself can never answer. On stem cells, scientists can tell us the potential benefits of destroying human embryos but not whether the progress of medicine justifies the willful destruction of nascent human life. On drilling in Alaska, scientists can estimate the potential oil reserves and the potential harm to the ecosystem but not whether we have a moral responsibility to expand the domestic oil supply or to preserve an unsullied wilderness even with economic harm to ourselves. On human exploration of space, scientists can estimate the economic and human costs of putting a man on Mars and the potential benefits of such a mission to the advance of human knowledge, but they cannot say whether human greatness in space is more worthy of public funds than ongoing research into curing AIDS. Science is power without wisdom about the uses of power.

Newman on the Work of Thomas Aquinas, Part 1

2007-01-12T16:14:00.000-05:00

The following is the first paragraph of an article published in the British Critic for July 1841. Written in the twilight of Newman's confident Anglicanism, it is a brief - and somewhat biting - judgement of the work of the medieval Catholic theologian, particularly his Catena Aurea (redacted patristic commentary on the Gospels).

"THE name of Aquinas is almost synonymous with all that is popish, superstitious, sophistical, fanciful, and pedantic, in the minds of most of us. We conceive of this great oracle of the Church of Rome, as of one whose life was spent in his closet in busy trifling, in the incessant labour of abstract reasonings upon questions of fact or sacred doctrine, minutely followed out, ingeniously defended, and dogmatically enforced. If there is any thing harsh, corrupt and repulsive in the popular Roman theology, any possible narrowness in an Aristotelian, or any bigotry in a schoolman, we look upon St. Thomas of Aquinum as the type and model of it. Even in the most powerful exercise of his intellect, we expect nothing higher and nobler than the discussion how many spirits can stand on the point of a needle, or whether we are bound to love a possible angel more than an actually existing fly. Yet we now have before us the first portion of a Commentary on the Gospels, not composed indeed, but compiled by him, which certainly gives a very different idea of his character and talents, which has nothing in it but what is grave, impressive, and profitable, and put together with remarkable good sense and skill; and, stranger still, which really contains nothing at all, or next to nothing, of those corrupt tenets and opinions, which we so much deplore in Romanism."

CDF Publishes Documents Since 1966

2007-01-11T13:09:00.000-05:00

From ZENIT

Documents published by the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith since the Second Vatican Council to 2005 are now available in one volume….The book is dedicated to Benedict XVI, who as Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger, was prefect of the congregation from 1981 to 2005. Cardinal William Levada, the current prefect of the congregation and author of the introduction, says that the documents are "magisterial interventions that, responding to objections or deformations of the faith, or proposing with authority further reflections on revealed doctrine, support and help theological research." Cardinal Levada adds that "it is not enough to denounce error," but that "it is necessary to recall the facts of tradition and the other elements of Christian tradition that can illuminate the way." "It is not an attempt to substitute the theologians, or to propose a particular theology as the only normative one," he states. What the congregation seeks is "to again propose elements that are not taken into account, but are indispensable for the elaboration of a healthy Catholic theology."

Tomb identified as St. Paul’s found in Rome

2006-12-28T11:22:00.000-05:00

Catholic News Service
VATICAN CITY.

After years of archaeological work, Vatican officials announced they have identified the tomb of St. Paul beneath the Rome basilica dedicated to the apostle. Authorities said Dec. 11 that a roughly cut marble sarcophagus was found beneath a historic inscription that reads: "Paul Apostle Martyr." Tomb identified as St. Paul’s found in Rome... READ MORE

Whether Santa Claus Exists?

2006-12-19T12:13:00.000-05:00

[Author unknown]

ARTICLUS UNICUS

Objection 1. It seems that Santa Claus does not exist, because Christmas gifts may be given to us by various good elves, and so there is no need for Santa Claus.

Obj. 2. Further, if Santa Claus existed, every dwelling would have a chimney and none would be too narrow for him. But some have narrow chimneys, and some no chimney at all. Therefore, Santa Claus does not exist.

On the contrary, Kay Starr says: "I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus."

I answer that, the existence of Santa Claus can be proved in five ways.
The first and most manifest way is from Christmas trees. It is certain and evident to our senses that there are Christmas trees. Now no evergreen tree becomes a Christmas tree unless it is trimmed. Now to be trimmed means to receive ornaments from another. But one cannot go on to infinity in the passing on of Christmas tree ornaments, because then there would be no first trimmer, and consequently no other trimmer. Therefore, it is necessary to arrive at a first trimmer, trimmed by no other, and this everyone understands to be Santa Claus.
The second way is from the giving of Christmas gifts. Many people give Christmas gifts. Now whoever gives Christmas gifts either receives them from another or makes them in his workshop. But since no known person makes Christmas gifts in his workshop, everyone received them from another. But to take away the giver is to take away the receiver. Therefore, if there be no first giver, there would not be any other givers, nor any receivers, nor any giving of Christmas presents, all of which are plainly false. Therefore it is necessary to admit some first giver who makes Christmas gifts in his workshop, whom everyone calls Santa Claus.
The third way is from plastic images of Santa Claus, and runs thus. We find in department stores things of plastic which represent Santa Claus. Now, these things are representations either of Santa himself or of other images of Santa. Now, it is impossible to go on to infinity in representations. Therefore, there must be some being that is per se Santa Claus, not Santa Clause by participation, which the representations imitate.
The fourth way is taken from the gradations of Christmas spirit. Among men there is more or less Christmas spirit. But "more" and "less" are predicated of diverse things according as they resemble in their different ways something which is the maximum. Now the maximum in any genus is the cause of all in that genus. Therefore there must be someone who has infinite Christmas spirit, who is to all others the cause of their Christmas spirit, and this being we call Santa Claus.
The fifth way is taken from the conduct of children. As Christmas day approaches, we see children, who lack intelligence, acting for an end, and this is evident from their acting always, or nearly always, good, so as to obtain presents. Hence it is plain that not fortuitously, but designedly, do they act towards their end. Now whatever lacks intelligence cannot move itself towards its end, unless it be directed by some being endowed with knowledge and intelligence, who promises children a reward for being good; and this being we call Santa Claus.

Reply Obj. 1. Since the good elves get the presents they give from someone else, they are, at most, Santa's helpers.

Reply Obj. 2. The notion that Santa Claus enters and leaves by the chimney is absurd and heretical. Though immune from sin and death, he is fully human and very wise. So, he uses a door, not a chimney, to enter and depart; and every dwelling has at least one door.

The Architecture of Religious Violence

2006-12-01T13:06:00.000-05:00

Pope Benedict apparently made a peaceful visit to Istanbul, Turkey this week. The papers are reporting that the theologian is also quite a diplomat. Although the primary purpose of his visit – and the more important one for Christians – was to meet with Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew, the world’s attention is not surprisingly focused on his conciliatory overtures towards Islam both in what he said and in the symbolical respect he showed towards the religion by various visits to Muslim holy sites.

Though the controversy surrounding the Regensburg lecture is dying down, and no doubt seems to have been brought to a substantial end by this visit, Christians with a sense of historical irony cannot help but be reminded of the devastation the Orthodox have experienced – especially in Turkey – as a result of the triumph of the “religion of peace”.

Consider Hagia Sophia, at one time the Great Church of Constantinople and central temple of Eastern Christianity. It was built in the 5th century and survived for nearly a thousand years before it was desecrated and forcibly converted into a mosque in 1453. Since that time the Patriarchate has been held captive both by the Ottoman Empire and by the secular, but still very anti-Christian, Turkish government. In 1935 the building was turned into a museum, some of the original Byzantine iconography uncovered, and rendered a secular building.

To understand the significance of Hagia Sophia and what it says about the history of Islamic violence one might imagine an alternative timeline in which the Kaaba‎ in Mecca – which has always been located within a mosque dedicated to the worship of Allah – was stolen from Muslim control and consecrated a Christian church by invading Christian armies. One might imagine a contemporary Christian country in Arabia in which Muslims are a persecuted minority. Picture the obvious irony – or should I say hypocrisy – of such a nation voicing its opposition to remarks made by senior Islamic clerics as to the history of Christian violence. Image its secular and religious officials, who completely control and seriously limit the actions of Arabic Muslims, marching in the streets of this one time Islamic nation calling for the execution of those clerics who cannot forget the persecution of their brothers and the desecration of their houses of worship.

The Work of the Redeemer

2006-11-02T12:00:00.000-05:00

All orthodox Christians agree that the Trinity and the Incarnation are mysteries. But in what sense ought we to speak of the third great doctrine of the Faith, the Atonement, as a mystery? The following is an argument for limiting our speech about the Atonement to the proper mode of theological discourse: analogical.

What makes the Trinity and the Incarnation mysteries? A theological mystery is any supernatural “thing” whose essence is incomprehensible to us, indefinable by us and ineffable through us. The divine nature and the personal distinctions within that nature are the most excellent instance of supernatural mystery according to Christianity. The Divine Persons, in the manner in which each subsists in one essence, are mysterious. We can speech analogically or metaphorically, but never univocally or literally about them. Similarly, the Word-Incarnate is a mystery. Not only is the divine nature of the Word incomprehensible, but so is the manner of its union with the humanity of the Word. Thus the essence of the subsistence of the Word – while perfect with respect to human and divine form – is a mystery.

These mysteries, despite the character of incomprehensibility, are revealed to us. They are the objects of contemplation. They are the principle subjects of Christian teaching. Therefore, we are free to devoutly explore, as far as possible, their intelligibility. And yet, they will always remain mysteries.

When we consider the work of the Redeemer, particularly the Atonement, we must decide whether it, like the aforementioned dogmas, is a mystery. Some Christian traditions espouse clear and distinct ideas about the nature of the Atonement. This approach to the work of the Redeemer aims at uniting all its various parts into a single central concept: generally one form of “satisfaction” or another.[1] But is this theologically sound? Is this consistent with the mysterious character of the other major Christian dogmas? It seems not, for the following reasons.

(1) The principle of the work of objective[2] redemption, i.e. the Atonement, is Christ. But Christ is a divine-human agent. Thus the principle of the work of redemption is divine-human.

(2) The union of the divine and the human in Christ is, as we have seen, a mystery. But things operate according to their essence. Therefore, the work of Christ is, like his nature, mysterious.

The first effect of this argument is to show that there can be no more than an analogical description or descriptions of the nature of the Atonement. What “exactly” the nature of the work of the Redeemer is, we cannot know or say. We can, however, approach this mystery through the various scriptural motifs of redemption, victory, and salvation. And yet each of them (whether forensic, martial, or medicinal), while expressing indirectly something true about the work of the Redeemer, fails to define it.

A related effect of this argument is to refute a priori any soteriology that employs univocal terms and arguments.

The final effect of this argument is to re-place the Atonement beside the other great mysteries of Christianity, namely the Trinity and the Incarnation, and thereby reunite them.

[1] This is not to overlook the radical difference between the earlier (Anselmian) and the later (Lutheran) versions of the satisfaction theory.

[2] As distinct from subjective appropriation of redemption.

The Protestant and a Catholic view of Revelation compared

2006-10-30T10:23:00.000-05:00

Protestant

Physical Source: Material Principle: Scripture exclusively[1]

Intelligible Unity (Meaning): Formal Principle: Scripture self-interpreted

Catholic

Physical Source: Material Principle: Scripture primarily[2]

Intelligible Unity (Meaning): Formal Principle: Apostolic Tradition = Councils & Creed

[1] Opposed to private revelation.
[2] Open to private revelation.

2006-08-28T09:15:00.000-05:00

Is justification a mystery, and if so in what sense; or is it simply a forensic fact? If it is not a mystery, but a fact, what basis, if any at all, must it have, first, in the mystery of Divine Procession, and secondly, in the Incarnation of the Word?

Reading the Anglican Newman

2006-08-22T12:47:00.000-05:00

I will be taking directed research in the Anglican writings of J-H Newman this Fall with Dr. John T. Ford of the Catholic University of America in order to fulfill a requirement in modern theology. The following quotes are from my reading. Since part of the object of this course is to ascertain the state of Newman’s mind in the formative period before his conversion, but relative to it, these quotes (in black type) will reflect in part his progressive departure from 19th century Evangelicalism.

'A mere moral strain of teaching duty and enforcing obedience fails in persuading us to practice, not because it appeals to conscience, and commands and threatens (as is sometimes supposed), but because it does not urge and illustrate virtue in the Name and by the example of our blessed Lord. It is not that natural teaching gives merely the Law, and Christian teaching gives the tidings of pardon, and that a command chills or formalizes the mind, and that a free forgiveness converts it (for nature speaks of God’s goodness as well as of His severity, and Christ surely of His severity as well as of His goodness); but that in the Christian scheme we find all the Divine Attributes (not mercy only, though mercy pre-eminently), brought out and urged upon us, which were but latent in the visible course of things.

'Hence it appears that the Gospels are the great instruments (under God’s blessing) of fixing and instructing our minds in a religious course, the Epistles being rather comments on them than intended to supersede them, as is sometimes maintained. Surely it argues a temper of mind but partially moulded to the worship and love of Christ, to make this distinction between His teaching and that of His Apostles, when the very promised office of the Comforter in His absence was, not to make a new revelation, but expressly “to bring all things to their remembrance” which “He had said to them;” not to “speak of Himself,” but “to receive of Christ’s, and show it unto them.” The Holy Spirit came “to glorify Christ,” to declare openly to all the world that He had come on earth, suffered, and died, who was also the Creator and Governor of the world, the Savior, the final Judge of men. It is the Incarnation of the Son of God rather than any doctrine drawn from a partial view of Scripture (however true and momentous it may be) which is the article of a standing or a falling Church. “Every spirit the confesseth not that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh, is not of God;…this is that spirit of anti-Christ;” for, not to mention other more direct considerations, it reverses, as far as in it lies, all that the revealed character of Christ has done for our faith and virtue. And hence the Apostles’ speeches in the book of Acts and the primitive Creeds insist almost exclusively upon the history, not the doctrines, of Christianity; it being designed that, by means of our Lord’s Economy, the great doctrines of theology should be taught, the facts of that Economy giving its peculiarity and force to the Revelation.'

‘The Influence of Natural and Revealed Religion Respectively’, Preached on Easter Tuesday, 3 April, 1830.

John Henry Newman, Fifteen Sermons Preached Before the University of Oxford Between A.D. 1826 And 1843, (Norte Dame: Notre Dame Press, 1997), 34-35.

Four Major Shortcomings of Historical Evangelical Protestant Theology [From one catholic’s point-of-view]

2006-08-15T14:02:00.000-05:00

(1) Speculative Theology: The rejection of philosophy as a science independent of faith and yet capable of contributing to the understanding of faith has placed upon the sacred text the impossible task of alone answering speculative inquiries into the sacred mysteries. This explains why contemporary Evangelical Theology has little in common with the subject matter of Patristic Theology.

(2) Dogmatic Theology: The exclusively forensic understanding of the nature of salvation results in an embellished and imbalanced emphasis on this particular aspect of the economical role of the Redeemer at the expense of the more important mystery of his God-revealing and communicating personality as expressed in the Nicene and Chalcedonian dogmas.

(3) Spiritual Theology: The idea of imputed righteousness undermines Apostolical and Patristic soteriology which is grounded in the indwelling of the Holy Trinity and the corresponding real communication of the divine nature. If the distinguishing mark of justification (which signifies the bond of peace and friendship between God and humans) is its total externality, then the Petrine doctrine of “partaking of the divine nature” and the Athanasian doctrine of the Incarnation must be reckoned a different Gospel.

(4) Moral Theology: A purely passive participation in salvation is not a human participation since it is not according to properly human acts. Minus free and rational participation, salvation becomes an impersonal process that must ignore the human person qua person in order to accomplish its end. Similarly, its end cannot be the perfection of the human person as the Image of God in Christ for such an image could not but be free.

Levering on Aquinas’ Treatment of the Divine Essence

2006-08-04T11:14:00.000-05:00

Matthew Levering, Scripture and Metaphysics: Aquinas and the Renewal of Trinitarian Theology, (Oxford: Blackwell) 2004, p. 47-74.

Synopsis: Thomas’ division of the treatise on God in the Summa Theologiae into a treatise on the divine essence and a treatise on the divine persons observes the fact that neither the revealed divine name “YHWH” nor “Father, Son and Holy Spirit” (which are his starting points in each treatise respectively) can be reduced to the other. It avoids the supersessionist tendency in Trinitarian theology whereby the one God of the Old Covenant is superseded by the revelation of the Trinity. In other words, the one God revealed to Moses on Mt. Sinai by a name both existential (“he who is”) and personal (“has sent me to you”) is the God of Israel and the Father, Son and Holy Spirit and yet the absence of the latter name (as was the case in Israel prior to the New Testament) does not render the former less personal. Thus a treatise on the divine name YHWH is (1) not a purely philosophical analysis since the existential character of the name is derived from the sacred text and (2) no more an impersonal abstraction from the living God than the contemplative doctrine of Moses and the Prophets centered on the unity of God revealed in the divine name YHWH.

“As the Torah makes clear, both Moses’ contemplative life and his corresponding active life revolve around his mission to separate Israel from the idolatry of the nations. This intimate connection of his divinely ordained mission with the (revealed) truth about God [i.e. unity] suggests, as Aquinas holds, that Moses, in comparison with the patriarchs, “was more fully instructed in the unity of the Divine essence.” The importance of Moses’ receiving the name “I am who am” at the very moment of his receiving his active mission cannot be overemphasized. Agreeing with traditional Jewish understanding of the relationship of Moses to the later prophets, Aquinas states that “all the other revelations to the prophets were founded” upon the fundamental revelation to Moses. He argues that the Old Testament, which for him is entirely a collection of prophetic books, centers upon the Mosaic revelation of God’s simplicity. Thus, the Mosaic Law has its own integrity “by withdrawing men from idolatrous worship” and including “them in the worship of one God by Whom the human race was to be saved by Christ.” The written law reveals the necessity of apprehending God’s simple being in order to attain to the end – God himself – that God has ordained for rational creatures. Knowing God as sheer infinite “being” does not involve capturing God in a concept; on the contrary, a proper apprehension of God as “I am who am” destroys all conceptual idolatries that seek to place God within a finite creaturely category.” (66-67)

“Rather than bypassing God’s eternal identity as YHWH, Aquinas integrates his metaphysical reflection on the name “I am who am” into a complex account of YHWH, Moses, the Mosaic Law, and the relationship of Christians to the contemplative life enjoyed by Moses and sustained, in its critique of idolatry, by the Mosaic Law. Through Moses and Israel, God teaches humankind about the being and simplicity of God. For Aquinas, the divine name given to Moses fully displays the divine unity: “Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God is one Lord” (Deuteronomy 6:4). Understood in this way, contemplative knowledge of God involves a double movement. This movement begins with contemplating YHWH, God known as one and as sheer infinite being, who is not a philosophical abstraction but rather the personal God. In a second movement, this God is contemplated in his threeness [“redoublement”, Gilles Emery].” (71-72)

A Clarification of the Doctrinal Meaning of Reformation in the Early 16th c.

2006-08-03T11:50:00.000-05:00

What I find strange about the almost uncritical connection many Protestants and Anglicans still make between the doctrines of the Lutheran movement and the idea of reform in the Church is the fact that the theological antecedents to Lutheranism were already condemned nearly a century earlier, not by a triumphalist papacy, but by the conciliarist reform council of Constance. If you were an orthodox churchman in the first half of the 16th c., whether you were a reformer (not to be confused with Evangelical) or a staunch curialist, you regarded Wycliffe and Huss simply as notorious heretics condemned by the very spirit of reform which saw the elimination of heresy as one goal in the renewal of the Church. Even the reformed and anti-scholastic chancellor of the University of Paris, Jean de Gerson - admired by Luther - unquestioningly joined in the prosecution and condemnation of Huss. It must have seemed to many if not most of Luther’s contemporaries that he was suggesting the outrageous idea that heresy can accomplish reformation. They, of course, saw these things as antithetical. Their reasoning was that reform meant not a change in doctrine but a return to authentic practice based upon the orthodox doctrine of the Church.

What we fail to perceive after four centuries of denominational fracturing, conflict and now dialogue, modernism, historical consciousness, etc. is the absurdity and revulsion with which the suggestion of a change in doctrine would have been met at the end of the Middle Ages.

The One Book Meme

2006-07-31T10:45:00.000-05:00

The one book meme

1. One book that changed your life: St. Thomas Aquinas ‘Summa Theologiae’

2. One book that you've read more than once: Jacque Maritain ‘Introduction to Philosophy’

3. One book you’d want on a desert island: Douay-Rheims Bible w/ original annotations…j/k...St. Bonaventure ‘Itenerarium Mentis in Deum’

4. One book that made you laugh: [Still Thinking]

5. One book that made you cry: Sheldon Vanauken ‘A Severe Mercy’

6. One book that you wish had been written: St. Thomas Aquinas ‘Commentary on the Book of Revelation’

7. One book that you wish had never been written: The Koran or The Institutes of the Christian Religion

8. One book you’re currently reading: Etienne Gilson ‘Being and Some Philosophers’

9. One book you’ve been meaning to read: William A. Wallace ‘The Modeling of Nature: Philosophy of Science and Philosophy of Nature in Synthesis’

10. Now tag five people: Doug (Friends, Romans, Countrymen), James G., Eileen aka my wife, Phillip P, Phil Mc - sorry, I don't know that many bloggers.

2006-07-13T14:00:00.000-05:00

I was at the bookstore today - during my lunch break - and I thought I was going to buy a copy of ‘The Triads’.

But they also had ‘The One Hundred and Fifty Chapters’ and ‘Dialogue Between an Orthodox and a Barlaamite'.

I was very tempted I have to say.

Too bad I could only afford one!

Needless to say, I think I made the right decision.

I am now the proud new owner of....

‘Being and Some Philosophers’ by Etienne Gilson.

Call it heresy, but I am just a sucker for this stuff!

Thomas Aquinas on Divine Incomprehensibility

2006-07-13T10:17:00.000-05:00

According to St. Thomas, the ontological foundation for the incomprehensibility of what God is (his quiddity or essence) is indeed divine simplicity. However, incomprehensibility is due, according to Thomas, not to the simplicity of the essence as such. It is due rather to the impossibility of the divine essence existing (actus essendi) in the abstract. In other words, the nature of God is such that there can be no idea formed of it.

A fundamental clarification must be made regarding the meaning of Thomas’s distinction between essence and existence (esse) or act of existing (actus essendi). The esse is not an accident of the essence. It is not an essential attribute. It is outside the essence. In other words, that a thing is adds nothing to what it is. An essence does not change with respect to its essence (what it is) upon the addition of esse (that it is). For example, if I asked a friend to describe his dog to me, he would probably not describe it as brown, furry, tall, and existing. The last attribute is clearly not an attribute in the sense of constituting the essence. It is not what Aristotle called a predicamental. It is rather presupposed to the other predicates, which however do not loose any of their conceptual content if it turns out that my friend’s dog is imaginary.

With this in mind, it becomes clearer as to what the meaning of Thomas’s account of divine incomprehensibility really comes down to.

God, according to Thomas, does not possess the mode of existence of creatures. This mode includes the various kinds of composition characteristic of created being (STh I, q. 3). He includes in his list of compositions characteristic of created being the composition of essence and existence (esse). It is this composition which makes conceptual knowledge possible.

The intellect, according to Thomas, conceives within itself the essence of the object of its intuition. It literally becomes its object in an intellectual way. Thus the knower and the thing known are united with respect to the essence which forms each: outside the mind in matter, inside the mind in the intellect itself. This cognizing operation presupposes the distinction between essence and esse or a particular object’s act-of-existing. When I come to know the object before me, I have in a sense acquired its essence, although its own act-of-existing remains outside conceptualization.

The ultimate reason then that Thomas gives for the impossibility of unaided knowledge of the divine essence is the impossibility of the intellect abstracting from God’s act-of-existing (esse) a rational form. In other words, one cannot have an idea of God. There is no idea, as such, of the divine essence. There is only and can only be “the” divine nature actually existing outside the mind. God’s esse, in other words, does not give up its secrets to the philosophers. This is because there can be no distinction made, as there is no objective foundation for the distinction between, the divine essence and the divine esse.

It also follows from this that God is not directly the subject of philosophy. Philosophy, and particularly Platonic philosophy, is a knowledge based upon essences. It seeks to know not the esse of things (and in that sense not “things” at all) but rather the purely rational order of essences.

Ultimately, for Thomas, the reason for the incomprehensibility of the divine essence is not the same reason for the incomprehensibility of the Plotinian ‘one’. Whereas the latter is inconceivable due to the simplicity of its pure essence, the former is incomprehensible due to its irreducible concreteness, realness, subsistence.

'Esse' and Negative Theology

2006-07-11T13:11:00.000-05:00

What is the meaning of the famous statement in the Mysticae Theologiae of Pseudo-Dionysius that God is “beyond being”? Does it mean that God does not exist in any sense? Some have interpreted negative theology as cutting across even the dialectical opposition between being and non-being – the final frontier of philosophical knowledge – placing God beyond both.

But is there truly a dialectical opposition between being and nonbeing? Is the subject of negative theology esse as such? The following is an attempt to answer these questions in the negative and clarify the proper subject of negative theology.

Being and Nonbeing

I propose that the dialectical opposition between being and nonbeing is a chimera. If ‘being’ is a thesis, it must have ‘nonbeing’ as its antitheses. However, can ‘nothing’ be an antitheses? It seems not. A thesis is a concept. Concepts ultimately are derived from the essences of existing things. For example, ‘whole’ is a thesis the antithesis of which is ‘part’. Things must either be parts or wholes. They can be one or the other but not both nor neither. Negative theology places God beyond both whole and part. The situation is different with being and nonbeing. Neither are – strictly speaking – concepts. They are the act-of-being or its absence attributable in a sense to concepts: men exist/men do not exist, but they do not add anything in the order of essences to them. The proper subject of dialectic is essence. Esse (which is the sense in which I am using ens here) is not the subject of dialectic and as such is no thesis to be opposed. At the same time, nonbeing cannot be the term of a relation (real or logical) since it is nothing (real or logical) and as such cannot be an antithesis. The error made by those who say that God is beyond being in the sense of without His own act-of-being is thinking of esse as the ultimate essence, the ultimate concept derived from created being to be negated, and thus also its antithesis. Negative theology, however, is a kind of purgation with respect to dialectic. Thus its subject is that of dialectic. Esse is not the subject of dialectic. Thus, esse is not the subject of negative theology.

The Two Meanings of Ens

The statement “God is beyond being” or “God is not being” takes ens according to what Thomas Aquinas calls its essential mode, i.e. what it is. It does not take ens in the mode of esse or act-of-existing, i.e. that it is. Were it to mean the latter, it would amount to a judgment that, strictly speaking, there is no God.

Any attempt to avoid this conclusion by saying that there is a God – albeit one beyond an act-of-existing (esse) – would be purely equivocal speech.

If the objection is made that being (ens) is just one more concept to be purged from our thoughts about God by negative theology, it must be said that esse is not a concept nor is it conceivable. It is not an essence or an essential accident. It is outside the essence and as such is predicated like an accident, but is not like an accident in that it has no essential form of its own. It is thus not a predicate in the proper sense of a predicamental. And since the subject of negative theology is all predicamentals attributed to the divine nature in a univocal sense, esse is not the subject of negative theology.

Analogicity no Impediment to a Perfect Negative Theology

“God exists” is a meaningful statement. “God does not exist” is also a meaningful statement. Predicated analogically, the former is Christianity the latter atheism. Predicated equivocally both are meaningless. Predicated univocally the first is false the second true.

If the goal of negative theology is to strip us of all our concepts of God, analogical predication preserves its essential aim. Analogical predication attributes the essence of no created being to the uncreated divine essence. By it our concepts do not define the divine essence. They attribute no concept as such to it. It is not the positive theology to which the Mysticae Theologiae opposes negative theology. Rather, analogical predication posits an inconceivable likeness (a link in the order of esse) between God and creatures which serves to make theologiae meaningful as opposed to nonsense.

The Problem of Revelation in Palamite and Thomistic Theology

2006-07-06T12:44:00.000-05:00

I am no expert on Palamite theology. So please clarify my question from the Palamite point-of-view if I have failed to anticipate the answers that may be given to it.

The intelligibility of the Divine Nature is a point at issue between scholastic theology and certain Orthodox interpretations of apophatic theology. St. Gregory Palamas sought to assert both the incomprehensibility of the divine nature and the meaningfulness (even to the point it seems of univocal meaningfulness) of theologiae (i.e. thoughts and words about God). St. Thomas Aquinas sought the same thing. Their methods, however, were radically different:

(1) Gregory (I am speaking as a non-expert) justifies this antithesis by making an ontological distinction between the essence of God – God ad intra, which is not esse and thus not intelligible, and the divine energies or acts of the Divine Persons within the history of Redemption – God ad extra. The latter are divine and attributable to the Divine Persons, but outside the intrinsically incomprehensible essence. Knowledge of God is thus founded upon the Revelation that comes in and with these energies.

(2) Thomas justifies the same antithesis by making a distinction between the intrinsic intelligibly of the Divine Essence, which is pure actual being and thus purely intelligible, and the weakness of the created intellect to understand it.

My question concerns the possibility of a Divine Revelation of which God is the subject. Which theology, Palamite or Thomisitc, succeeds better at accounting for both the absolute incomprehensibility of God and the meaningfulness of theologiae:

(1) Thomas, who posits subsistent esse in the Divine Nature, sees it as infinitely intelligible. Thus God, albeit in a sense only analogous to human cognition, knows Himself. There is no problem of the possibility of Revelation in this view. God reveals what he knows. He reveals what is in principle knowable. The fact that the created intellect cannot comprehend (i.e. intuit the quiddity) of the uncreated nature of God is due to the intellect of the creature, which cannot receive a created likeness of uncreated form.

(2) If the Divine Nature is beyond esse, then it is quite right to say that it cannot be the object of any intellect created or uncreated. It is also equivocal to say that God knows Himself in any sense. Here there is a problem of Revelation. Revelation is a communication. It is a disclosure of the incomprehensible to the created intellect. Since esse is the formal object of knowledge, God, in so far as he is the subject of Revelation, must acquire it. It is a contradiction to say that God speaks ‘nothing’. Thus the acts (energies) of the Divine Persons – which acquire esse in Palamite theology – are the exclusive subject of Revelation. From this the following consequences seem to follow:

A. The distinguishing personal characteristics of the Hypostases are true only ad extra and no absolute (i.e. ad intra) knowledge of personal distinctions is had. Which seems to leave open the possibility of modalism.

B. The words of Sacred Scripture and the Nicene Council on the Divine Essence are equivocal and meaningless.

I invite any clarifications or criticisms of this observation from either the Palamite or the Thomistic point-of-view.

A Call for Republication: 'A Gilson Reader'

2006-06-27T12:53:00.000-05:00

There is beginning to be a renewed interest in the thought of Etienne Gilson. I have yet to discover, however, a blog or a website dedicated specifically to the wisdom and scholarship of this eminent historian of mediaeval philosophy. I, for one, would like to see the historic thomistic intellectual tradition, so richly informed and masterfully guided in the middle of the last century by Gilson, pick up again where the Rahnerians and Lonerganians left it.

Subjective Faith and the Value of Philosophy

2006-06-23T13:56:00.000-05:00

What justification can we offer for the use of philosophy in theology? The objects of Christian faith are certainly the articles of the Creed, which are essentially summaries of the doctrines of revelation, materially identical to the sacred text. But the subject of faith is the created intellect, the very nature of which is to seek understanding. Since the articles of faith, in virtue of their supernatural character – even as revealed truths, are incomprehensible to the created intellect, the will, which is also the subject of faith, moves, by the same infused virtue, the intellect to assent to these mysteries. This movement of the intellect by the will, infused with the theological virtues of faith, hope and love, is the very definition of contemplation. Thus theology, because it is rational reflection on the object of faith, hope and love, is a contemplative act. The contemplative character of theology requires the application of cultivated reason. Philosophy is cultivated reason.

2006-06-23T12:04:00.000-05:00

'Pierce, O most sweet Lord Jesus, my inmost soul with the most joyous and healthful wound of Thy love, and with true, calm and most holy apostolic charity, that my soul may ever languish and melt with entire love and longing for Thee, may yearn for Thee and for thy courts, may long to be dissolved and to be with Thee. Grant that my soul may hunger after Thee, the Bread of Angels, the refreshment of holy souls, our daily and super substantial bread, having all sweetness and savor and every delightful taste. May my heart ever hunger after and feed upon Thee, Whom the angels desire to look upon, and may my inmost soul be filled with the sweetness of Thy savor; may it ever thirst for Thee, the fountain of life, the fountain of wisdom and knowledge, the fountain of eternal light, the torrent of pleasure, the fullness of the house of God; may it ever compass Thee, seek Thee, find Thee, run to Thee, come up to Thee, meditate on Thee, speak of Thee, and do all for the praise and glory of Thy name, with humility and discretion, with love and delight, with ease and affection, with perseverance to the end; and be Thou alone ever my hope, my entire confidence, my riches, my delight, my pleasure, my joy, my rest and tranquility, my peace, my sweetness, my food, my refreshment, my refuge, my help, my wisdom, my portion, my possession, my treasure; in Whom may my mind and my heart be ever fixed and firm and rooted immovably. Amen.'

- St. Bonaventure

Questions on the Relationship between Christology and Anthropology

2006-06-22T15:24:00.000-05:00

(1) Can an anthropology, such as is found in the Lutheran notion than man, on account of the condition of human nature, cannot, even with the aid of grace, actively participate in his own justification coexist with a Christology in which Christ's engraced human nature is the efficient cause of justification?

(2) If the former anthropological principle is combined with the notion that Christ as man is the author of justification, will the result not be some weakening of the Chalcedonian definition of the union of natures by an elicit supplementing of the human nature by an inordinate emphasis on the divinity?

(3) If the notion of fallenness is used to justify, on the one hand, total depravity with respect to humanity, in spite of sanctifying grace, and, on the other hand, Chalcedonian orthodoxy, with respect to the immaculate character of Christ's sanctified human nature, is this not an inconsistent use of the concept of infused grace? In other words, is the sufficiency of infused grace in Christ not contradicted by a denial of the sufficiency of infused grace in the sinner?

Josef Pieper on Hope & the Reformed Doctrine of Faith

2006-06-21T14:17:00.000-05:00

In response to a recent insightful comment to my post on adapting elements of Reformed catechisms for use in a catholic catechism for children, I am giving the following quote from Josef Pieper’s little book on Christian hope. The comment concerned the Reformation doctrine of faith, which is defined by the Heidelberg Catechism as “not only a certain knowledge, whereby I hold for truth all that God has revealed to us in his word, but also an assured confidence…that not only to others, but to me also, remission of sin, everlasting righteousness and salvation, are freely given by God.”

I take this to be a confusion of the theological virtues of faith and hope since no less an authority than St. Augustine wrote, “faith must be distinguished from hope, not merely as a matter of verbal propriety, but because they are essentially different.” In other (Aristotelian) words, faith and hope have different formal objects: “Can anything be hoped for which is not an object of faith? It is true that a thing which is not an object of hope may be believed.” Specifically, hope has for its object “only what is good, only what is future, and only what affects the man who entertains the hope.” Faith, on the other hand, has for its object everything which comes under Christian belief:

‘Accordingly, faith may have for its object evil as well as good; for both good and evil are believed, and the faith that believes them is not evil, but good. Faith, moreover, is concerned with the past, the present, and the future, all three. We believe, for example, that Christ died,--an event in the past; we believe that He is sitting at the right hand of God,--a state of things which is present; we believe that He will come to judge the quick and the dead,--an event of the future. Again, faith applies both to one's own circumstances and those of others.’

Faith and hope concern the same objects, only the objects of faith are common objects, whereas the objects of hope are personal.

Pieper, in his masterful thomistic treatment of the theological virtue of hope, exposes two vices opposed to it: despair and presumption. He identifies the latter with the doctrine of the Reformation described above.

‘The second form of presumption, in which, admittedly, its basic character as a kind of premature certainty is obscured, has its roots in the heresy propagated by the Reformation, viz. the sole efficacy of God’s redemptive and engracing action. By teaching the absolute certainty of salvation solely by virtue of the merits of Christ, this heresy destroyed the true pilgrim character of Christian existence by making as certain for the individual Christian as the revealed fact of redemption the fact that he had already “actually” achieved the goal of salvation. (Moreover, the theology of the Reformation denied not only the negativity of the “not yet”, but also its positive side: in no sense does it regard man’s proper existence as a positive progression towards fulfillment.) It has often been observed how close – both logically and phsychologically – this second form of presumption is to despair on the one hand and, on the other, to the moral uninhibitedness of that “inordinate trust in God’s mercy” that theology reckons, along with despair, among the “sins against the Holy Spirit.” It is but proper to emphasize at this point what is surely obvious: that we are speaking here only of the objective erroneousness of the presumption that is part of Reformation theology. It would be ridiculous and absurd to raise or attempt to answer the question of subjective guilt.’

Writing My Own Catechism: On Faith

2006-06-20T15:22:00.000-05:00

The following is an excerpt from “my” catechism on faith and its object. It is a mixture of thomisitic, reformed, and eastern orthodox elements. It is obviously a work in progress.

What is faith?

Faith is certain knowledge whereby I hold as true all that God has revealed in his Word, as found in Holy Scripture and the Tradition of the Church.*

What is the object of faith?

The object of faith is God: the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.**

What are the articles of faith?

The articles of faith are certain truths, first, concerning the origin of our God and Savior Jesus Christ in the eternal Father, his coming to earth, his life, death and resurrection; and, second, concerning the gift of the Holy Spirit, the Holy Church, and the promise of eternal life.

From where do we learn the articles of faith?

The articles of the catholic-orthodox Faith are according to the creed of First Nicea and Second Constantinople. Like the words of Holy Scripture, some of these articles are clear in themselves while others contain certain mysteries, from which other things are known.***

* Heidelberg Catechism, answer to question 21, modified.
** Summa Theologiae I-II, q. 1, a. 1
*** Catechism of Peter Mohila, Metropolitan of Kiev, I, q. 5, modified;
Summa Theologiae I, q. 1, a. 10

Superman Returns

2006-06-20T12:47:00.000-05:00

My son is becoming a huge superman fan. We bought him an ‘S’ shirt with a red cape and now he runs around the house, fists out, “swoosh”-ing and punching things, including his mom. He was asked in the grocery store today if he is the real superman to which he replied with a very serious and superman-like “yes”.

I am excited about the new movie. He is a little to young to take along, but we’ll show it to him on video.

Natural Aesthetics

2006-06-20T10:43:00.000-05:00

My wife and I have begun to notice a pattern in our two-year-old son’s response to the sacred environment of the sanctuary in the few parishes where we attend Sunday services. When we go to the “traditional” looking church, with its cruciform stone buildings, iconographic Stations of the Cross, rich tapestried reridos, antique wooden crucifix, and golden tabernacle, he repeatedly asks us, “What’s that?”. But when we go to the “modern” looking church, with its circus-tent-like interior school-bricked structure, ambiguous center, Stations hidden on account of its semicircular shape, and complete absence of a reridos, he asks us nothing.

I think we can learn something from children in this situation. We are, as St. Thomas argued against many of his contemporaries, a single substantial form of both body and soul. We ‘are’ our bodies. We also use our bodies, as Aristotle taught, to know, not only the things outside of us, but our very selves. The senses are the doorways through which experience and knowledge passes. The liturgy and the sacred environment as a whole ought to meet us there. Because we are bodies by nature, we are inclined to believe what we experience as beautiful. Divine worship must take seriously the role of the body if it seeks to engage the whole person in a manner consistent with its nature.

My Own Catechism

2006-06-19T15:33:00.000-05:00

I have been thinking for some time of writing a catechism for my children. I know there are many out there already and maybe it is unadvisable to transform my own personal views into family dogma, but I intend to try anyway. My interest in writing a catechism is inspired by a desire to synthesize the best of the historic catechisms of Roman Catholicism, Orthodoxy and Protestantism. Not in order to produce cheap ecumenicity in my children, but rather to incorporate the richness of the traditions in a way that reflects my own experience. Of course, the Catechism of the Catholic Church will remain in my family the ‘official’ catechism.

For example, I really like the language of the Heidelberg Catechism question 21:

What is true faith?

Answer: True faith is not only a certain knowledge, whereby I hold for truth all that God has revealed to us in his word, but also an assured confidence, which the Holy Ghost works by the gospel in my heart; that not only to others, but to me also, remission of sin, everlasting righteousness and salvation, are freely given by God, merely of grace, only for the sake of Christ's merits.

Since faith is here confused, in part, with the virtue of hope, I would rewrite it in my catechism to say:

What is faith?

Answer: Faith is a certain knowledge whereby I hold as true all that God has revealed in his Word.

What is hope?

Answer: An assured confidence, which the Holy Ghost works by the gospel in my heart; that not only to others, but to me also, remission of sin, everlasting righteousness and salvation, are freely given by God’s grace for the sake of Christ's merits.

I especially like the language of the first question of the Westminster Shorter Catechism:

What is the chief end of man?

Answer: Man’s chief end is to glorify God and to enjoy him forever.

I have never heard a more succinct statement of the Thomistic notion of the extrinsic and intrinsic ends of human existence.

Romanus Cessario's 'A Short History of Thomism'

2006-06-19T14:40:00.001-05:00

While traveling for work this past week I was reading Romanus Cessario’s A Short History of Thomism. He makes an argument which I found surprising. He suggests that the various fortunes of Thomism in the modern era have had less to do with its intrinsic qualities than with extrinsic circumstances.

‘The historical reasons for widespread intellectual inactivity differ from period to period. For instance, the explanations may stem from physical causes, such as the Black Death that emptied cloisters and university halls not only of students but also of a generation of talented professors…On the other hand religious dissention, such as followed upon the inception of divisions within Western Christianity, occasioned social upheaval that thwarted the development of Thomism. In some places, Protestantism resulted in the closing of the convents and schools where the Thomist tradition had been studied and passed on. Let two geographical examples suffice: The strong tradition of scholasticism in general and Thomism in particular that flourished in the British Isles, especially at Oxford, was abolished at the time of the sixteenth-century break with Rome, and only returned there in the early twentieth century when New Blackfriars was opened in Oxford. Likewise, the tradition of Thomist mysticism that flourished in the Rhineland during the late thirteenth and fourteenth centuries and the remarkable enthusiasm for the Summa Theologiae that succeeded it in the second half of the fifteenth century disappeared in the German principalities that were lost to Rome at the time of the Protestant Reform. This turn of events left Bavarian Benedictine monks as the chief custodians of German Thomism.’

‘On a larger scale, political turmoil often dramatically interrupted the continuation of professional intellectual life, such as happened at the French Revolution, when religious orders – including the Dominicans, who had been the principle carriers of Thomism in the late eighteenth century – were either disbanded or severely restricted in all but a few places in Western Europe…Considerations such as these allow one to argue that when Thomism stopped playing an active role in the intellectual life of certain historical periods, the reasons frequently had little to do with the inherent worth of Aquinas’s thought or its potential to attract followers. The explanation is to be found in extrinsic factors that inhibited the careful study and appropriation of Aquinas and his texts.’ (p. 36-37)

Calvin & Aquinas on the Atonement

2006-06-15T21:20:00.000-05:00

It is fascinating to read two very different theologians on a subject of such central importance to a correct rendering of the Mystery of Faith.

The scholarly consensus is that the Great Reformer had no first hand knowledge of the Angelic Doctor. The extent to which he understood his 16th century scholastic contemporaries and the extent to which they reflected the authentic teaching of Thomas is a matter of debate. Yet, their theologies of the Atonement are a striking example of dissimilar points-of-view unexpectedly converging.

Calvin insisted upon the reality of Christ’s mediation and meritorious intervention between God and man,

‘That Christ, by his obedience, truly purchased and merited grace for us with the Father, is accurately inferred from several passages of Scripture. I take it for granted, that if Christ satisfied for our sins, if he paid the penalty due by us, if he appeased God by his obedience; in fine, if he suffered the just for the unjust, salvation was obtained for us by his righteousness; which is just equivalent to meriting.’ (Inst. 2.17.3)

Similarly Thomas answers the question whether Christ's Passion brought about our salvation efficiently,

‘On the words of Phil. 2:9, "Therefore God exalted Him," etc., Augustine says: "The lowliness" of the Passion "merited glory; glory was the reward of lowliness." But He was glorified, not merely in Himself, but likewise in His faithful ones, as He says Himself. Therefore it appears that He merited the salvation of the faithful.’ (STh III.48.1)

Yet, both theologians recognize that there is a twofold foundation for the work of the redeemer.

‘Therefore when we treat of the merit of Christ, we do not place the beginning in him, but we ascend to the ordination of God as the primary cause, because of his mere good pleasure he appointed a Mediator to purchase salvation for us. Hence the merit of Christ is inconsiderately opposed to the mercy of God. It is a well known rule, that principal and accessory are not incompatible, and therefore there is nothing to prevent the justification of man from being the gratuitous result of the mere mercy of God, and, at the same time, to prevent the merit of Christ from intervening in subordination to this mercy.’ (Inst. 2.17.1)

‘Human acts have the nature of merit from two causes: first and chiefly from the Divine ordination, inasmuch as acts are said to merit that good to which man is divinely ordained. Secondly, on the part of free-will, inasmuch as man, more than other creatures, has the power of voluntary acts by acting by himself. And in both these ways does merit chiefly rest with charity.’ (STh I-II.114.4)

Thomas makes the same point using the notion of instrumental causality,

‘There is a twofold efficient agency---namely, the principal and the instrumental. Now the principal efficient cause of man's salvation is God. But since Christ's humanity is the "instrument of the Godhead," as stated above, therefore all Christ's actions and sufferings operate instrumentally in virtue of His Godhead for the salvation of men. Consequently, then, Christ's Passion accomplishes man's salvation efficiently.’ (STh III.48.6)

Interestingly, Calvin criticizes those who would empty the suffering of Christ of its intrinsic worth through a misappropriation of the notion of instrumental causality,

‘Some men too much given to subtilty, while they admit that we obtain salvation through Christ, will not hear of the name of merit, by which they imagine that the grace of God is obscured; and therefore insist that Christ was only the instrument or minister, not the author or leader, or prince of life, as he is designated by Peter.’ (Inst. 2.17.1)

Are Western Christians Iconodules? Part II

2006-06-09T14:23:00.000-05:00

John Calvin in the Institutes of the Christian Religion Bk. 1, chp. 11 refutes the use of sacred images without making reference to the main patristic argument put forward for their defense by St. John Damascene. He shows no awareness of the argument from the incarnation of the divine image of God the Father (Colossians 1:15). Does this reflect the absence of such an argument in the published Romanist controversial literature of the time? Calvin attacks specifically the pedagogical rational for the use of sacred images. If such a powerful critic of late medieval Catholicism leaves out a refutation of the principle patristic argument for the sacred image, is it reasonable to assume that a theology of images of this type did not exist in the Western tradition up to that time? Or more generally, was the christological foundation for iconography even a part of Western consciousness up to the time of the Reformation?

Are Western Christians Iconodules? Part I

2006-06-09T13:26:00.000-05:00

Since I am on the topic of iconography, let me propose an hypothesis regarding one aspect of the iconographical differences between the Roman Catholic Church and the Eastern Orthodox Church.

The Latin Bishops of the 8th century did not finally reject the canons of the Second Council of Nicea. The Roman church at the time of the Reformation reiterated its condemnation of iconoclasm. And yet, the use of images in public and private worship never became in the West what it became in the East. Its seems then that the tem 'iconodule' is more approprately given to Orthodox Eastern spirituality than to Roman Catholic spirituality. Perhaps the latter communion can best be described as not, on the one hand, icononclastic and yet, on the other hand, not iconodulic.

It is difficult to imagine the Orthodox liturgy without icons, whereas the Roman rite was never dependent upon sacred images. In fact, the medieval Cistercian sanctuary was as imageless as a Calvinist chapel.

A Dialectical Defense of Iconography

2006-06-09T12:27:00.000-05:00

Since nothing especially important is on my mind at the moment, and since I will have wasted my time creating this blog if I do not begin to post some ideas, the following is a recent reflection on the possibility of a dialectical refutation of the charge of idolatry sometimes made again the Byzantine icon of Christ.

It seems that the genus ‘idol’ (taken in the literal sense of an artistic expression of deity which necessarily falsifies what it represents rather than in the analogously moral sense of any object of inordinate desire) can be divided into two species: (1) a true image of a false god or (2) a false image of the true God. The categories ‘false of image of a false god’ and ‘true image of the true God’ are inadequate for the reasons that the former is unintelligible and the latter would - by definition - not be an idol.

The sacred image of the God Jesus Christ fits neither of these two definitions. With respect to the first, it cannot be held that the sacred image of Christ is an image of a false god. This would be a denial of his divinity. With respect to the second, it cannot be held that the sacred image of Christ is a false image of the true God. This would be a denial of his humanity. Christ, according to orthodox belief, is fully human. Consequently, his human nature is as imitable as our own. Art can express the true form of God the Son in his humanity without falsifying it. The only definition that can be given to the icon of Christ is that of a true image of the true God.

Is seems therefore, on the basis of this observation, that there is neither a specific nor a general common definition of idol and icon.

Blog Charter

2006-06-09T09:37:00.000-05:00

The general purpose of this blog is to express my thoughts on a range of theological and philosophical issues from an openly ecumenical and, at the same time, critically thomistic point-of-view. By 'ecumenical' I mean the broad historic othodoxy of the Roman Catholic and Protestant West, as well as the Orthodox East. By 'thomistic' I mean in accordance with the principles of St. Thomas' general theological synthesis of faith and reason.

My opinions are entirely my own and not that of the Magisterium of the Roman Catholic Church.