Divine Simplicity again

There is currently an ongoing internet debate over divine simplicity, between the Thomist Feser and the analytic philosopher Mullins. The latest entry is here.  An indefatigable maker of memes on Facebook sent me a meme about this debate that I paste below. I won't comment directly on the debate, the Scotist position is well known, even if not normally brought up in these debates. Given the nature of this particular debate, even Aquinas' own solution of the rationes is also not at play.

As everyone knows, I did my dissertation on the divine attributes. The medieval debate went through a logical development.
1. Aquinas, adapting Bonaventure, argued that divine attributes all had distinct definitions (rationes) but these rationes were all in the human mind, or at least their distinction. They weren't false, because God verifies them all from afar. God is just undifferentiated perfection, no distinct attributes.
2. someone pointed out that this means that God has no knowledge of his own attributes.
3. all the early Thomists then argued, 'aha, no, see, God knows the contents of the human mind, and thus he has knowledge of divine attributes ex consequenti'.
4. Henry came along, and said that this was all bunk, that the divine intellect and divine will, which are distinct, each generate their own attributes. all attributes are reducible to either intellect or will, that produces them in the divine essence.
5. Scotus comes along and says Henry is bunk, all attributes are already there, formally distinct before even the divine intellect thinks about them.
6. Ockham: the word 'attribute' is causing all this problem, lets get rid of it. 

And that is about it.

here's the meme. It is not really right, since Mullins is denying divine simplicity full stop, and Scotists do defend it with the formal distinction and instants of nature. So they cannot really sit back and watch Feser go it alone. But this time we will. For Scotus' theory of formal distinction, see here. 

Mayronis was the first Scotist to come into direct conflict with Thomism, in a series of debates at the university of Paris in the 1320's. The debate was over the formal distinction and instants of nature.

Scotus makes the following comment in Lectura I d. 8 p. 1 q. 4 (ed. Vat. XVII p. 48) about the various debates over the distinction of reason "...dicunt aliqui concordando in conclusione principali, sed discordant in modo ponendi, in quo se impugnant; et eorum impugnatio est pax nostra." Basically, they agree that divine attributes are distinct only by the intellect, but disagree how it comes about. 

Mayronis also talks about the peace, but his peace is between the schola minorum and the thomists; he has some interesting rhetoric about the thomist pierre roger disturbing the peace of the schools, and he reformulates it a few times. Anyway, on this see the "Disputatio" volume, just about the only text of Mayronis that has been critically edited.

Update: Feser adds to the debate with an entry on Scotus, here. His point is that divine simplicity has been interpreted in different ways, that attacking Aquinas, even if the attack succeeded, does not suffice for defeating divine simplicity. My co-blogger clashed with Feser on the formal distinction around the time Feser's book on Scholastic Metaphysics was published. In the post linked above he is fairly general about it. I would probably only quibble by saying that the formal distinction, in keeping with the Parisian account, is a diminished real distinction, not a midway distinction between real and rational distinctions. But given the internal Scotist debate over such matters, I don't fault Feser for this. Blander, in his dissertation, attacked the connection between separability and the real distinction, which Feser holds, but this is quite recent research, even for Scotists (see the link to his paper in the combox). I am sympathetic to this, though I wonder how separability fits in, since the separability criterion shows up in the Quodlibet, perhaps Scotus' final work (assuming the final work was not the Quaestio de formalitatibus). 

One could also point out, regarding Feser's post, that the Scotist position on univocity and analogy is that they are compatible in the same concept. This has ever been the opinion of the Scotist school, with the sole exceptions of Mayronis and Bonetus. I have a piece appearing eventually on this topic. But Feser can't be expected to know this, since even Scotus-scholars have forgotten it. The modern study of Scotus, rightly focused on his manuscripts and actual doctrines he held, has unfortunately neglected the study of the ancient school. Thus certain things that should not have been forgotten, were lost.

Anyway, the debate continues.

God and the Divine Essence

Sometimes I think the best argument for atheism is analytic philosophy of religion. Witness the following from Hoffmann and Rosenkrantz, The Divine Attributes, 90.

...Anselm's notion of a self-existent or self-explanatory being is rather obscure. For example, Anselm takes it to be an implication of divine self-existence that (i) God's existence is not explained by anything else, (ii) God's existence is explained by his essence, and hence that (iii) God is a necessary being. Unhappily, (i) and (ii) are incompatible unless God is identical with his essence. Anselm accepts the doctrine that God is identical with his essence; among traditional theologians such as Anselm this doctrine is commonly thought to be an implication of divine simplicity. But as we have argued, it is a category mistake to suppose that God, a substance, is identical with his essence, a quality. Moreover, necessarily, any quality of a concrete entity [of any sort] inheres in that concrete entity. But God's essence is a quality of God, and God is a concrete entity. So, God's essence inheres in God. Since it is impossible for a concrete entity to inhere in itself, it follows that God cannot inhere in himself. Because God's essence inheres in God, but God does not, God and his essence are diverse. For all of these reasons, God and his essence cannot be identical. Hence, (i) and (ii) are incompatible. Thus, if God's existence is explained by his essence, then strictly speaking God's existence is explained by something else. However, God's existence being explained by his essence seems compatible with God's being maximally great. There is no reason to accept without qualification Anselm's assumption that God's existence cannot depend upon something else.

Valid? Sure. Sound? 'Unsound' just doesn't do it justice. I would like to know what the point of having an essence is when it just inheres in a substance along with all the substance's other properties/qualities etc. Fond/convinced as I am of the usefulness of the formal distinction, I don't think I would posit it as obtaining between God and the divine essence.

Divine Simplicity III: Univocity

[NB: this is a first draft; I will make every effort in the future to revise by adding commentary and fixing typos, etc.]

As promised, here is the post on the topic that inspired this series of "fundamenta" posts: how can Scotus reconcile his theory of univocity with divine simplicity?

We all know what Thomas says. The terms that we predicate of God from creatures (being, wise, good, just, etc.) exist in a divided way in creatures, as distinct from their essence. But God is simple, admitting no plurality. Consequently, the terms must be predicated analogically, not univocally.

Scotus' discussion of the issue is found in Ordinatio I d. 8 q. 3, entitled "Whether to say that God, or something formally said of God, is in a genus is consonant with divine simplicity.

He is trying to avoid a model of reality in which Being is a genus and God and creatures are species of being. If this were the case, divine simplicity would be violated. This is because there would be a common reality of the genus by which God and creatures would agree, and a reality that was proper to each.  God would then have composition of genus and specific difference.

For the negative position, Scotus examines the opinion of Henry of Ghent (not Aquinas), citing a number of arguments, offering arguments against the position (these are the arguments for univocity I have already posted) and replying to Henry's arguments. He also cites an opinion for the positive position, though it is probably more of a set-up than an opinion anyone actually held (i.e. that God is in a genus).

Scotus, then, holds a middle position:

Ordinatio I d. 8 p. 1 q. 3 (ed. Vat. IV, 198):

I hold the middle position, that it stands with divine simplicity that some concept is common to God and to a creature, not nevertheless some concept common as of a genus, because neither a concept said in 'quid' of God, //nor by whatever kind of formal predication said of him// is per se in some genus.

The first part was proved by arguing against the first opinion [i.e. Henry]

So Scotus then argues that the concept is not going to be common like a genus is in common. He has two arguments for this, one from the notion of infinity, the other from the notion of necessary being.

1. Infinity (ed. Vat. IV 199-203):

A concept having indifference to some things to which a concept of a genus cannot be indifferent can not be a concept of a genus; but whatever is said commonly of God and creatures is indifferent to finite and infinite, speaking of essential [things], or at least to the finite and not finite, speaking of certain others, because a divine relation is not finite; no genus can be indifferent to infinite and the finite, therefore etc.

The first part of the minor is clear, because whatever essential perfection is in God, is formally infinite, in creatures finite.

I prove the second part of the minor, because a genus is taken from some reality which according to itself is potential to the reality from which the difference is taken; no infinite is potential to something...

This argument, by treating it further, I understand in this way: that in some creaures the genus and difference are taken from another and another reality (just as by positing many forms in man, animal is taken from the sensitive and rational from the intellective), and then that thing, from which the genus is taken, truly is potential and perfectible by that thing from which the difference is taken. Sometimes, when there are not there thing and thing (just as in accidents), at least in one thing there is some proper reality from which the genus is taken and another reality from which the difference is taken; let the first be called a and the second b: a according to itself is potential to b, so that by precisely understanding a and precisely understanding b, a as it is understood in the first instant of nature, in which it is precisely itself, it is perfectible by b (just as if it were another thing), but that it is not perfected really by b, this is because of the identity of a and b to some total [totum] thing, to which really they are primarily the same, which indeed totum first is produced and in that totum both those realities are produced: if nevetheless one of those would be produced without the other, truly it would be potential to it and truly it would be imperfect without it.

That composition of realities - potential and actual - is the smallest which suffices for the notion of genus and difference, and that does not stand with this that whatsoever reality in something is infinite: for reality, if it would be infinite of itself, however precisely taken, would not be in potency to some reality; therefore since in God whatsoever  essential reality is formally infinite, there is nothing from which the notion of a genus can be formally taken.

2. From necessary being (ed. Vat. IV, 204 ff.)

I argue third from the second middle [term], namely from the notion of necessary being, and this is the argument of Avicenna, VIII Met. ch. 4. If necessary being has a genus, therefore the intention of the genus will be of itself necessary being or not. If the first, 'then [the inquiry] will not cease until there is a difference'. I understand this thus: the genus would then include a difference, because without it it is not in ultimate act and the 'necessary in itself' is in ultimate act; if however the genus includes a difference, then it is not a genus. If the second option is followed, it follows that 'necessary being will be constituted from what is not necessary being.

[there follows an addition by Scotus here] but this argument proves that necessary being has nothing in common with another, because that common intention is 'not necessary being'; hence I answer: an understood intention neither includes necessity nor possibility, but is indifferent; that however in reality which corresponds to an intention, in 'this' is necessary being, in 'that' possible (this is disproved if a proper reality corresponds to the intention of a genus, and not if it corresponds to another common intention). [end of addition]

With respect to that which is added in the question 'of whatever formally said of God' [see the opening paragraph], I say that no such is in a genus, because of the same, because nothing is said formally of God  which is limited; whatever is of some genus, whatever genus that might be, is necessarily limited.

But then there is a doubt about what sort are those predicates which are said of God, such as wise, good, etc.

I answer. Being is first divided into infinite and finite than into the ten categories, because one of those, namely the finite, is common to the ten genera; therefore whatever befalls being as indifferent to finite and infinite, or as it is proper to infinite being, befalls it not as determined to a genus but as prior, and consequently as it is a transcendental and is outside every genus. Whatever is common to God and creature, are such which befall being as it is indifferent to finite and infinite: for as they befall God, they are infinite, and as they befall a creature they are finite; therefore first they befall being than being is divided into the ten genera, and consequently whatever is such is transcendent [transcendens].

But then there is another doubt, how wisdom can be called a transcendental since it is not common to all beings.

I answer.  Just as it is of the definition of 'most general' that it does not have under itself many species but not to have another genus above it (just as this category 'where', because it does not have a supervening genus it is most general, although it has few or no species), so a transcendental has no genus under which it is contained. Whence it is of the notion(ratio) of a transcendental that it does not have a predicate that supervenes, except being, but that it is common to many inferiors, this befalls it.

This is clear in another way, because being does not have passions/attributes that are simply convertible, just as one, true, and good, but has some passions where opposites are distinguished against each other, just as necessary being or possible being, act or potency, and suchlike. Just as convertible passions/attributes are transcendent because they follow upon being in so far as it is not determined to some genus, so disjunctive passions/attributes are transcendental, and each member of the disjunct is transcendental because neither determines its determinable to a certain genus: and nevertheless one member of the disjunct formally is special, not befalling unless one being, just as necessary being in that division between necessary being or possible being, and the infinite in that division of finite or infinite, and the same is true of the rest. So also wisdom can be a transcendental, and whatever other, which is common to God and creature, although some such is said of God alone, something however is also said of God and some creature. It is not necessary that a transcendental, qua transcendental, be said of every being unless it is convertible with the first transcendental, namely being.

[to the first principal argument, (ed. Vat. IV 221ff):

To the first principal argument I concede that that concept said of God and a creature in 'quid' [i.e. essentially] is contracted by some contracting concepts saying 'quale' , but neither is that concept said in 'quid' a concept of a genus, nor those concepts said in 'quale' are concepts of differences, because that 'quidditative' concept is common to finite and infinite, which community cannot be in the concept of a genus -- those concepts contracting mean the intrinsic mode of the contracted, and not some reality perfecting it: differences however do not mean the intrinsic mode of the reality of some genus, because in whatever grade animality is understood, not on account of this is rationality or irrationality understood to be the intrinsic mode of animality, but still animality is understood in such a grade as perfectible by rationality or irrationality.

But here there is a doubt: how can a concept common to God and creature be understood as 'real', unless by some reality of the same genus, and then it seems that it is potential to that reality from which the distinguishing concept is taken, just as was argued before about the concept of a genus and a difference, and then the argument made for the first position still stands, that if there would be some reality distinguishing in re, and another distinct, it seems that a thing is composed, because it has something by which it agrees and something by which it differs.

I answer that when some reality with its intrinsic mode is understood, that concept is not so irreducibly simple (simpliciter simplex) that that reality cannot be conceived without that mode, but then it is an imperfect concept of that thing; it is able also to be conceived under that mode, and then it is a perfect concept of that thing. Example: if there would be whiteness in the tenth grade of intensity, howsoever simple it might be in the thing, it can still be conceived under the aspect of such whiteness, and then perfectly it will be conceived by an adequate concept of that thing, or it can be conceived precisely under the aspect of whiteness, and then it would be conceived by an imperfect concept which falls from the perfection of the thing; an imperfect concept however can be common to this and that whiteness, and a perfect concept would be proper.

Therefore a distinction is required between that from which a common concept is taken and between that from which a proper concept is taken not as distinction of reality and reality but as distinction of reality and proper and intrinsic mode of the same, which distinction suffices for having a perfect concept or imperfect of the same, of which the imperfect is common and the perfect is proper. But the concept of genus and difference requires the distinction of realities, not only of the same reality perfectly and imperfectly conceived.



To summarize:

Scotus takes two doctrines as given, because they were proven elsewhere.

1. Divine simplicity
2. univocal predication of creaturely properties of God, with qualification.

In this question, Scotus expands this picture

3. the properties predicated of God are not in a genus, because this would require a distinction of realities: the reality of the genus is other than the reality of the difference [keep in mind, the model Scotus is trying to avoid is that Being is a genus, and creatures and God are two species of being. There would be one reality, being, by which God and creatures agree, and one reality by which they are distinct]

4. The properties are transcendentals, arranged in four grades: being, attributes of being (one, true, good, maybe thing), disjunctive attributes of being (necessary being vs. possible being, etc.), pure perfections (wisdom, justice, etc.).

5. univocal predication gives us a common concept, say of wisdom; it is common to God and creatures. As such, the common concept is imperfect. The univocal notion can be contracted to God and creatures by means of intrinsic modes. The concept of God or a creature taken with its respective intrinsic mode is imperfect, but this is not a distinction between two realities, but of one reality. Hence the problem mentioned in 3 is avoided.

Argument for the Formal Distinction

I was leafing through my copy of Summula Philosophiae Scholasticae by J.S. Hickey (Dublin, 1912), and in volume 1, page 315, I came across the following passage in a long footnote given in English. It's attributed to a Jesuit named Rickaby, but there's no complete bibliographical citation. As far as I can tell - it's a little unclear - it's from a book called First Principles of Knowledge:

The Scotists within what, as a thing, is undifferenced, profess to find actually different "realities," which they also call "formalitates." . . . The individual man, Peter, is one undifferenced object, yet the individuality, considered formally as the individuality is not the humanity considered formally as the humanity. Hence the Scotists argue that there must be some real difference between them a parte rei, in the object itself: it need not be a difference between thing and thing, but at least it is a difference between a real formality and another real formality in one thing. Their opponents deny that the conclusion follows from the premises: they affirm that our method of abstracting one aspect from another is such, that two different aspects can be taken of an object which in itself presents no real distinction of its own, to correspond with that which we mentally make. Of itself it offers to the mind a ground for drawing the distinction, but it does not do more. There is then a virtual distinction, but there is not an actual one. This explanation seems intelligibly to meet all the requirements of the case: whereas the Scotist distinction between res and realitas is an enigma, which its proposers have no right to force upon our acceptance. Either they mean no more than our explanation admits, or if they do mean more the addition is not acceptable. For it would drive us to suppose, that whenever the weakness of our intelligence obliges us to conceive an object by a succession of ideas, one of which does not include the notes contained in another, there we come across some actual distinction in the object conceived. A doctrine which fits in better with a sound system of philosophy is, that what in itself is undistinguished is to us distinguishable by mental abstraction.

This is a pretty fair account of the formal distinction and sounds like a pretty fair critique. The problem that I have with it is twofold:

1) First, the notion of the "undistinguished in itself" which nevertheless provides a "ground" for the distinction of reason, which in the thing remains "virtual", is specious. Either Socrates' humanity and Socrateity are in every respect absolutely identical, or they are not. If so, what is the "ground" in the thing for distinguishing between them in abstraction? If not, and if all agree that Socrates' humanity and his individuating factor cannot be separated and are not really distinct, then we need some intermediate distinction.

2) I deny that the Scotist distinction between res and realitas is an enigma. On the contrary, it is quite clear. Socrates is one and self-identical. Socrateity and humanity in Socrates are not altogether and in every respect the same. Socrateity is of itself individual; humanity is common. Socrateity exists only in Socrates; humanity exists both in Socrates and in Plato. While it is the case that humanity is inseparable from Socrateity, in the sense that this particular instance of humanity cannot exist apart from Socrates, because Socrates without this humanity is not Socrates, just as Socrates without Socrateity is not Socrates, nevertheless humanity as a common nature, as existing both in Socrates and in Plato - and it does not belong to humanity as common and as a specific formal ratio to belong to Socrates, but only insofar as it is also a this, which is outside its formal ratio and provided precisely by the additional determination of its individuating factor - it can and does exist outside of Socrates. Therefore this really existing humanity in Socrates and the individuating formal factor in Socrates cannot be separated in reality, and yet they are not wholly identical, but are distinct to the extent just explained, and so are distinct in this sense prior to any consideration by the intellect. So they are formally distinct.

Similarly, the poem the Iliad is a single intelligible matter (this collection of words) with a single intelligible form (this arrangement of those words). Within this poem many formal realities can be distinguished, examined individually, and considered apart from one another. For instance, the character of Achilles is not the same thing as the plot of the poem as a whole; neither is the same as the style of the poem; nor are any of these identical with the hexametric rhythm. All of these - the character of Achilles, the plot, the style, the rhythm - pervade the poem and are in some sense present in all its parts (Achilles' character is present throughout, for instance, as the (proximate or remote) efficient and final causes of most of the action, even when he's not onstage). None of these elements are really distinct from these words in this order, nor consequently from each other. However, they are clearly not all absolutely identical with each other either. None of them could be removed from the Iliad without destroying the poem; but any of them can exist somewhere else without the others. As this, as actually existing in this poem, they necessarily coeexist; as considered as formal ratios in themselves, they need not necessarily coeexist. For instance, the style is almost inevitably lost, along with the hexametric rhythm, in a translation which retains the plot and the character. Or a new poem could be written containing the character of Achilles, but not the plot; or the same plot could be recycled with different characters, and so on. This clearly shows that the distinction between these different elements is not purely a product a product of my mind, but rather my mind's distinguishing follows from what in the poem is already distinct.

We don't posit the formal distinction, then, because the "weakness of our intellect obliges" us to conceive of things as different which are really inseparable; but because our intellect grasps the different realities which, although in the thing as individually existing are really and inseparably identical, are not wholly identical and may in some circumstances, in another individually existing thing, exist apart.

In the main text Hickey, after giving another summary account of the formal distinction, says, along with a quote from someone else named Liberatore (I'm clearly not completely up on my manualist writers):

Atvero invenire . . . quamdam tertiam distinctionem, subtilius est quam quod intelligi possit. Porro, "haec opinio . . . est vana et periculosa. Est vana, quia ad distinguenda ea, propter quae adstruitur, sufficit distinctio rationis cum fundamento in re. Est autem periculosa, quia, quum istae formalitates a natura rei proponantur ut totidem distinctae perfectiones, officit simplicitati divinae naturae."

I translate:

And they find a certain third distinction, unthinkably subtle. Yet "this opinion is vain and dangerous. Vain, because a distinction of reason with a foundation in the thing is sufficient to distinguish those on account of which it is added. Dangerous, because, since those formalities are proposed as being on the side of the nature of thing, as so many distinct perfections, it impedes the simplicity of the divine nature."

Of course, from our point of view, and as we have argued here and elsewhere many, many times, the beauty of the formal distinction is precisely that, without positing any composition whatsoever in God, it serves to render meaningless any difficulties that might arise from positing an absolute identity between, say, the intellect and will in God. Because the formalities are not really distinct - they are not, for instance, different parts - they don't detract from perfect and complete simplicity. But because they do not formally include one another and so are not absolutely and in every respect identical, it is possible, for instance, that God understands something which he does not create, or understands necessarily what he creates contingently.

More on the formal distinction, among other places, here.

Leibniz on the Will and Possible Worlds

Another Leibniz post. Apologies to all the hardcore medievalists out there.  Leibniz strikes me as having a pretty weak account of the will in general (mainly, he is pretty vague whether the will is a power or appetite/inclination and is unclear on the relation between the will and acts of willing; plus, if, as is his wont, the soul just is thinking, what is the relation between willing and thinking?). I found the following quote interesting, mainly because he was so uncharacteristically explicit.

Theodicy, p. 151:

 51. As for the volition itself, to say that it is an object of free will is incorrect. We will to act, strictly speaking, and we do not will to will; else we could still say that we will to have the will to will, and that would go on to infinity. Besides, we do not always follow the latest judgement of practical understanding when we resolve to will; but we always follow, in our willing, the result of all the inclinations that come from the direction both of reasons and passions, and this often happens without n express judgement of the understanding.

52. All is therefore certain and determined beforehand in man, as everywhere else, and the human soul is a kind of spiritual automaton, although contingent actions in general and free action in particular are not on that account necessary with an absolute necessity, which would be truly incompatible with contingency. Thus neither futurition in itself, certain as it is, nor the infallible prevision of God, nor the predetermination either of causes or of God's decrees destroys this contingency and this freedom; That is acknowledged in respect of futurition and prevision, as has already been set forth. Since, moreover, God's decree consists solely in the resolution he forms, after having compared all possible worlds, to choose what one which is the best, and bring it into existence together with all that this world contains, by means of the all-powerful word Fiat, it is plain to see that this decree changes nothing in the constitution of things: God leaves them must as they were in the state of mere possibility, that is, changing nothing either in their essence or nature, or even in their accidents, which are represented perfectly already in the idea of this possible world. Thus that which is contingent and free remains no less so under the decrees of God than under his prevision.

Scotus, and his Sequelae, would ask what the origin of these possible worlds is.  Do they originate in the divine intellect, or are they eternally represented by the essence, or what? Elsewhere Leibniz made the odd claim that the divine ideas are represented by the divine intellect, but what could that mean? If the divine intellect does the representing, what is perceiving the representation? Generally, ideas, or the things that there are ideas of, are represented to the intellect, that is, if one is going to use representation at all in conjunction with the divine ideas. One question we might want to ask Leibniz is if the essences of possible things are eternal, since God does not alter their essences or apparently generate them. But if they are eternal, are they then divine or necessary, and doesn't this posit a plurality, indeed an infinity, of eternal beings?

Scotus on Intensive and Extensive Infinity

Embedded in a lengthy question on the "action" of the created and uncreated agents with respect to the Eucharist, Scotus examines an interesting objection based on the divine attributes.  Basically, the claim is that if the divine will is formally infinite, then it must include very other perfection intrinsic to God, because there can be no addition to infinity, and thus the will, rather than the divine essence, is the infinite sea of substance that John Damascene spoke of and the scholastics so love to cite.  Scotus' answer is to distinguish between two kinds of infinity, intensive and extensive.  The passage is long enough and probably well enough generally known that I give only a translation.

Duns Scotus, Ordinatio IV d. 13 q. 1 nn. 122-24 (Vat. XII 472-3):

Therefore briefly, it is clear, because God is unqualifiedly blessed in the operations of his intellect and will; for he is not unqualifiedly blessed in his essence as it is infinite, unless he comprehends it; and just as the intellect comprehends by seeing, so the will ... comprehends by loving, for this that it is perfectly blessed. And consequently, each power and each act of each power around the divine essence -- as it perfectly makes itself blessed -- will be infinite.

As proof of that minor [premise] I say that there can be understood in the divine a quasi extensive infinite, as if there would be understood a quasi infinite number of perfections; in another way, an intensive infinite of some unqualified perfection, so that that perfection, according to its own definition [ratio], is without limit and term. And in this second way something can have not only formal infinity, but also fundamental, -- something, however, can have formal intensive [infinity], although not fundamental [infinity].

I say therefore that nothing of one formal definition [ratio] is infinite in the first way, indeed neither perhaps is there such an infinity absolutely in God: for perhaps just as the persons are finite, speaking about that finitude, so also the unqualified perfections are finite in number or in their multitude, and the relations and notions, and this and that are joined together; but formal intensive infinity and fundamental [infinity] are together there in the divine essence as it is essence, and for this reason it is called by the Damascene a 'sea'. Formal [infinity] only, however, not fundamental, is in every other perfection [than the will] unqualifiedly; for each one has its own formal perfection from the infinity of the essence just as from a root and foundation. Neither formal nor fundamental infinity, however, is in the relations, as was shown in Book I distinction 13, because it is better for the Father not to have filiation; 'an unqualified perfection is that which it is better for something to have than not to have'. [cf. Anselm, Mon. c. 15]

The response is then clear, that although the will is formally infinite, nevertheless it does not formally include in itself all intrinsic perfections, because neither the essence nor something other includes them in that way; but neither does it fundamentally include all perfections, but so only the essence [does include them], which is a 'sea'; it includes by identity both whatever unqualified perfection and whatever relation.

Divine Simplicity II: Divine Attributes

This post covers another aspect of divine simplicity, namely, how it can be reconciled with a plurality of divine attributes. This problem itself is an expression of the more general problem of the relation between divine transcendence and human language. Divine simplicity is one way to ensure that God is unlike everything in the created world, for it is, after all, a negative doctrine: God is not composed, does not have parts, etc.

The scholastics came up with three solutions to the problem. The first was largely semantic. God is so transcendent and ineffable that he cannot be grasped by human thought or captured by human language. Divine attributes, such as wisdom and justice, are all one in God; when these are predicated of God, they signify primarily the divine essence as one. But there is also a secondary sense of these terms, which connotes the created realm as an effect of God. Only in the second sense are they considered distinct. Most of the twelfth-century thinkers held this view, and it was revived by Ockham and Auriol in the fourteenth century.

The second solution was primarily concerned with elaborating the role of the human intellect. Divine attributes are distinct only as a result of the operation of the intellect (that there are divine attributes is generally assumed based on the Dionysian via eminentiae). The intellect is too weak on its own in its present state to directly grasp God, so it requires a plurality of concepts. This plurality of concepts corresponds to the plurality of attributes. This second solution was authored by Bonaventure and Aquinas; or, more accurately, Bonaventure sketched it out and Aquinas developed it more fully. But he could never make up his mind about it, and one of his students that held one of his views was secretly investigated, and in general, Aquinas' changing views caused lots of problems for his would-be followers (such as, what "causes" the attributes, how can the divine essence be the fundamentum in re, is a "ratio" just a concept in the human mind or does it have an objective correlate in God?). So we will omit any further discussion of Aquinas. And in any case, Aquinas is irrelevant for understanding Scotus on this issue.

The relevant thinkers are Henry of Ghent and Godfrey of Fontaines (and, to a lesser extent, Thomas of Sutton). Henry has very complicated views on attributes, and they probably do a lot more work in his system than any other medieval thinker I know. For our purposes here, it suffices to note that Henry had a view regarding the origin of the attributes similar to Scotus' theory of instants of nature (see all the posts labeled "intelligible being"). Henry basically applies the three acts of the intellect from the Aristotelian commentary tradition to God. So we have an instant of simple apprehension in which the divine intellect apprehends the divine essence as one simple thing or one simple nature. But "then" it starts to reason about the essence, and by doing this it generates the attributes (attribute=divine essence+ratio from the intellect). However, and this is important, it does not generate the will, even though it is a sine qua non cause of volitional acts. So in the third instant the will is actualized and begins to go through its own series of movements. In the end we have then two fundamental attributes that cannot be reduced to each other, and all other divine attributes are ordered to one of these primary attributes (incidentally, intellect and will serve as the principles for the emanation of the divine persons, but visit the "Henry of Ghent" blog for more on this).

Godfrey of Fontaines thought all this was bullcrap, and instead extended Aquinas' views on divine ideas to help out the problem of attributes. Basically, ignoring his arguments against Henry, Godfrey thinks that God can compare the divine essence to any creature, and since he is omniscient, and because creatures imitate the divine essence in various ways (hence the multiplicity of perfections that are attributed to God), God can compare his essence to the contents of the human mind and see that the human mind, because of its weakness, sees a plurality of attributes in God. So the distinction of attributes is not really in God at all, just the human mind, but God does know that in a derivative sense he has attributes. So in the end, Godfrey cannot avoid positing some movement in divinis either. [this is not entirely accurate, but I don't want to reread either Godfrey or that chapter of my diss.]

We turn now to Scotus. As is probably well known now to all readers of this blog, Scotus has two commentaries on the Sentences of Peter Lombard, a Lectura and an Ordinatio, as well as a series of student reports, Reportationes, the most trusty of which seems to be the one labeled I-A. In the first two commentaries, Scotus’ discussion of divine attributes is in d. 8 q. 4 in Reportatio I-A, although the doctrine is the same (save more possible variations regarding the formal distinction), the discussion of it has migrated to d. 45, which is about the divine will. Consequently, I will focus here on the Ordinatio. I do recommend reading the Reportatio, however, for it adds the notion of the propositio famosa, which holds that whatever is distinct in reason can be treated as if it were really distinct; Scotus uses this principle to help him escape from objections to his views based on the identity of indiscernables (as Scotus puts it, if a is the same as c and b is the same as c, then a is the same as b).

The basic point that Scotus argues is that the attributes are distinct prior to or apart from any operation of the intellect, whether the intellect in question is divine, human, or angelic. To start off, in the solution of d.8 q.4 Scotus accepts that there are distinctions of reason in God, as well as distinct formal objects, that is, between different modes of conceiving the same object. This suffices for distinctions between say ‘wise’ and ‘wisdom’, but not between entities like wisdom and truth. This is because God knows the divine essence intuitively (see here for intuitive cognition), and can only find these entities in the essence; he does not cause them by means of his intellect. Here is the argument to this effect:

Ordinatio I d. 8 q. 4 (ed. Vat. IV, 257):

“Praeterea, intellectus intuitivus nullam habet distinctionem in obiecto nisi secundum quod exsistens est, quia sicut non cognoscit aliquod obiectum nisi ut exsistens, ita non cognoscit aliqua distincta formaliter in obiecto nisi ut exsistens est. Cum ergo intellectus divinus non cognoscat essentiam suam nisi intellectione intuitiva, quaecumque distinctio ponatur ibi in obiecto – sive sit distinctiorum obiectorum formalium, sive ut rationum causatarum per actum intellectus – sequitur quod ista distinctio erit in obiecto ut actu exsistens est: et ita si ista est obiectorum formalium distinctorum in obiecto, erunt ista distincta formaliter (et tunc sequitur propositum, quod talis distinctio obiectorum formalium praecedit actum intellectus), si autem sit rationum causatarum per actum intelligendi, ergo intellectus divinus causabit aliquam intellectionem in essentia ‘ut relationem rationis’, ut est exsistens, quod videtur absurdum.”

Translation:
"Furthermore, an intuitive understanding has no distinction in an object except according as it is existing, because just as it does not know some object save as existing, so it does not know something to be formally distinct in the object unless as it is existing. Since therefore the divine intellect does not know its essence except by an intuitive intellection, whatever distinction is posited there in the object – whether it is of distinct formal objects or as definitions caused by the act of the intellect – it follows that that distinction will be in the object as it is existing in act; and so if that is of formally distinct objects in the object, they will be formally distinct (and then the matter at hand follows, that such a distinction of formal objets precedes the act of the intellect), if however it is of definitions caused by the act of understanding, therefore the divine intellect will cause some intellection in the essence, as a relation of reason, as it is existing, which seems absurd."

The result of this is that there is a distinction preceding the operation of an intellect, such that wisdom is in God and goodness is in God, but wisdom in God is not formally goodness in God. Scotus thinks he has an argument that proves this.

Ord. I d. 8 pt. 1 q. 4 n. 192 (ed. Vat. IV, 261)
Quod probatur, quia si infinita sapientia esset formaliter infinita bonitas, et sapientia in communi esset formaliter bonitas in communi. Infinitas enim non destruit formalem rationem illius cui additur, quia in quocumque gradu intelligatur esse aliqua perfectio (qui tamen ‘gradus’ est gradus illius perfectionis), non tollitur formalis ratio illius perfectionis propter istum gradum, et ita si non includit formaliter ‘ut in communi, in communi’, nec ‘ut infinitum, infinitum’.

Translation:
"This is proved: because if infinite wisdom would be formally infinite goodness, then wisdom in common would be formally goodness in common. For infinity does not destroy the formal ratio of that to which it is added, because in whatever grade some perfection is understood to be (which grade, nevertheless, is a grade of that perfection), the formal ratio of that perfection is not taken away because of that grade, so if it [wisdom], as in common, does not formally include [goodness] in common, neither [will wisdom] as infinite [include goodness] as infinite."

This is a pretty compressed argument, and I’m not at all sure what’s going on at the end. This is the clear part:

If infinite wisdom were formally infinite goodness, then wisdom in common would be formally goodness in common.

The likely interpretation of this is that Scotus has in mind his doctrine of ultimate abstraction from Lec./Ord. I d. 5. According to this notion, the mind can perform a series of abstractions from a material object and ultimately arrive at a pure quiddity or definition. With this in mind, the argument means that if wisdom and justice, qua infinite, are the same, then at the level of pure abstraction (that is, with infinity having been abstracted) wisdom and justice must also be the same. Scotus takes this to be false, and the remainder of the quoted passage supports the claim that infinity does not alter the definition of something, in this case, a pure perfection.

Scotus follows this argument with further considerations on what if means to be formally included in the definition of something:

Ordinatio I d. 8 pt. 1 q. 4 (ed. Vat. IV, 261-62)

Hoc declaro, quia ‘includere formaliter’ est includere aliquid in ratione sua essentiali, ita quod si definitio includentis assignaretur, inclusum esset definitio vel pars definitionis; sicut autem definitio bonitatis in communi non habet in se sapientiam, ita nec infinita infinitam: est igitur aliqua non-identitas formalis sapientiae et bonitatis, in quantum earum essent distinctae definitiones, si essent definibiles. Definitio autem non tantum indicat rationem causatum ab intellectu, sed quiditatem rei: est ergo non-identitas formalis ex parte rei, et intelligo sic, quod intellectus componens istam ‘sapientia non est formaliter bonitas’, non causat actu suo collativo veritatem hiuius compositionis, sed in obiecto invenit extrema, ex quorum compositione fit actus verus.

Translation:
I declare this, because ‘to include formally’ is to include something in its essential definition, so that if a definition of the including could be assigned, the included would be a definition or part of a definition; just as the definition of goodness in common does not contain wisdom, so neither [does the definition of] infinite [goodness contain the definition of] infinite [wisdom]. Therefore there is some formal non-identity of wisdom and goodness, insofar as they would have distinct definitions, if they were definable. A definition, however, does not only indicate the notion/definition caused by the intellect, but the quiddity of the thing. Therefore there is formal non-identity form the side of the thing, and I understand this in such a way that the intellect composing that proposition ‘wisdom is not formally goodness’, does not cause the truth of the proposition by its own comparative act, but it finds the extremes in the object, from the composition of which the act is made true."

The basic idea here is that none of the divine attributes include each other in their definitions or parts of definitions, and this is true apart from any operation of the intellect.

So there you have it. The attributes are distinct ex natura rei (which means they are distinct prior to the operation of any intellect, human or divine), a distinction that is formal (the formal distinction is doing most of the work here, so see the relevant post). In God the attributes all exist under the extrinsic mode of infinity, which safeguards divine simplicity (for more on infinity see the ‘natural knowledge of God’ post in this series). When ultimate abstraction is performed, the intellect discovers that these attributes are distinct because none of them fall into the definitions of the others.

Analytic Appropriations of Univocity

Check out the following two links: Proslogion and Alexander Pruss. For Scotus' texts on univocity see our fundamentals post.

But let's consider whether Aquinas and Scotus disagree.

We know the following:

Scotus thinks there are two conditions for a univocal concept.

1. to affirm and deny with respect to the same results in a contradiction.

2. It can be used as a middle term in a syllogism without there being a fallacy of equivocation.

Aquinas defines univocity (see for example Summa Ia q. 13 and De unioni verbi a. 2 ad 4) as when two things have the same name and the same definition. This is Aristotle's definition from the Categories.

Aquinas also thinks (Summa Ia q. 13 a.5?) that analogical concepts are such that they can serve as the middle term in a syllogism without there being a fallacy of equivocation.

Now some notes about the history of equivocity/univocity. We have seen Aristotle's view of univocity. His view of equivocity is when the name is the same but the definition is different. In the Metaphysics he admits of a kind of equivocity that is "focused" or has related meanings, and uses the health example. This is Aquinas' analogy. Aristotle's analogy shows up in the Ethics and consists of a proportion, and always involves four terms (A:B::C:D). Scotus' definition of univocity allegedly comes from Simplicius' commentary on Aristotle's categories (I say allegedly because I've never been able to find it. Of course, I haven't looked very hard either).

Scotus sees only two options: univocity or equivocity. There is no medium. Analogy is a subset of equivocity, and as such will result in a fallacy of equivocation. Aquinas sees three options: equivocity, univocity, and analogy. Mysteriously, he thinks that analogy is a medium between the extremes and so does not commit a fallacy of equivocation. I tend to side with Scotus on this point, given the history of the problem.

In rather annoying (perhaps, truly Scotistic?) fashion, Scotus also thinks there can be analogical concepts, and never bothered to attack Aquinas' notion of analogy (what may be important today was not necessarily seen as such in the 13th century), save in Collatio 23, which doesn't have a resolution. So we can fault Aquinas for confusing analogy with equivocity, and Scotus for not telling us how univocal concepts relate to analogical ones and for not analyzing Aquinas' position.

What does all this mean? Well, given the 700 year history of this debate, my readers should not be surprised that I arrive at no definitive conclusions. But if we ignore for the moment Aquinas' belief that analogical concepts avoid fallacies of equivocation and focus on his definition of univocity, a way of harmonization presents itself. For it is clear from Scotus' account that he is primarily interested in concepts, and there is no "real" correspondence between the univocal concept of being and being outside the mind. But Aquinas' definition of univocity concerns two things; and given all his other discussions of analogy in which it is clear that univocity is impossible because of the nature of the divine causality (ie., its equivocal), it's clear that Aquinas is primarily concerned with the "real", and that any analogical concepts are isomorphically related to their real foundations (hence, he has to say analogical concepts don't cause fallacies, because otherwise there would be no systematic theology, only mystical experience a la David Burrell's "theology is a dance"). So, to conclude, we could harmonize our medievals by the claim that they are in fact complementary, for Scotus thinks univocity is on the level of the concept, while Aquinas thinks that analogy is on the level of the real.

Divine Simplicity I

This post is devoted to arguments establishing divine simplicity. In later posts I will outline Scotus’ views on reconciling divine simplicity with univocity and the plurality of divine attributes.

Divine simplicity is a negative doctrine, which holds that God has no parts or constituents. But it has been variously construed throughout the history of philosophy. Indeed, I would say that there is a continuum of views from strong to weak. A strong view, perhaps the strongest, is that of Plotinus, who denied that even the duality of thought and thought-about can be in God; consequently, he put the intellect outside God on a lower plane of being. Christianity in general has a very weak sense of divine simplicity, at least compared to the neo-Platonists (though beware! they live again in France). Christians have historically posited an infinity of objects for the divine mind and even place a Trinity of persons in God. The Church defined divine simplicity as a dogma at Lateran IV in 1215, though obviously this was no novelty. Defined is perhaps too strong a word; it was used in the creed of the council. All that we find is that God is said to be “omnino simplex” which is translated as “completely” or “entirely simple”. Subsequent councils have confirmed this, but as far as I know, have not specified what this means. The scholastics of the 13th and 14th centuries not surprisingly all defend divine simplicity. Yet they have somewhat different conceptions of it. For some, such as Bonaventure and Henry of Ghent, simplicity seems to indicate an activity of the divine essence (don’t tell David Bradshaw). Aquinas denies a series of possible compositions of God (quantitative parts, form and matter, nature and supposit, essence and existence, genus and difference, potency and act), as well as gives arguments: if God were composite he would be posterior to his parts, composites require an existrinsic cause, etc. This reveals, I think, that divine simplicity is a corollary of arguments for the existence of God. Certainly for Aquinas, and probably for all the scholastics, the proofs that establish the existence of God establish a being that is the explanation of all other beings, that than which explanation cannot go. To posit a complex being is only get part way to the end; for there still is a further cause, whether the parts themselves or some other extrinsic cause which joins the parts, which will terminate the explanation.

Scotus’ gives a series a proofs for divine simplicity based on particular and common middle terms. In the particular middle term he argues that God is not composed of essential parts, quantitative parts, or subject and accident. His proof from common middle terms are arguments from necessary being and infinity. I give only one argument from each section, and include the latin.

Ordinatio I d. 8 pt. 1 q. 1 (ed. Vat. IV, 153-64)

A. Probatio simplicitatis Dei per media particularia.

1. God is not composed of essential parts

1. The causality of matter and form is not absolutely first, but necessarily presupposes a prior efficient causality.

2. Therefore, if the first being were composed of matter and form, it would presuppose the causality of an efficent cause.

3. This could not be the causality of the First being, because it does not effect itself by joining matter and form.

4. Therefore it must be the causality of another, prior, efficient cause, the opposite of which was proven in d.2 q.1 [the proof for the existence of God].

Proof of 1: the causality of matter and form includes imperfection, because it includes the notion (ratio) of part; causality of the efficient and end includes no imperfection, but only perfection; every imperfect is reduced to the perfect just as to something essentially prior to itself, ergo etc.

[Primum sic: causalitas materiae et formae non est simpliciter prima, sed necessario praesupponit causalitatem efficientem priorem, - ergo si Primum esseet compositum ex materia et forma, praesupponeret causalitatem efficentis; non autem huius, quia istud non efficit se, coniugendo materiam suam cum forma, - ergo alterius efficientis, prioris; ergo Deus non esset primum efficiens, cuius oppositum probatum est distinctione 2 quaestione 1. – Probatio primae propositionis: causalitas materiae et formae includit imperfectionem, quia rationem partis, causalitas autem efficientis et finis nullam imperfectionem includit, sed perfectionem; omne imperfectum reducitur ad perfectum sicut ad prius se essentialiter; ergo etc.]

2. God is not composed of quantitative parts

[omitted, mainly a discussion of Aristotle’s arguments in Metaphysics 12 and Physics 8]

3. God is not composed of subject and accident

1. Because God is not material nor quantified (quantus), therefore he is not compatible with a material accident, of the kind which befalls material things such as a quality of a material thing.

2. Therefore he is compatible with spiritual accidents, for example, intellection and volition, and their corresponding habits.

3. But such cannot be accidents of that [divine] nature, just as was proved in distinction 2, because his understanding and willing are his substance, and habit and power, etc.

[Tertia probatur conclusio specialiter ex istis: quia enim Deus non est materialis nec quantus, ideo non est capax accidentis alicuius materialis, conventientis rei materiali sicut qualitas rei materialis; ergo tantum est capax illorum quae conveniunt spiritibus – puta intellectionis et volitionis, et habituum correspondentium – sed talia non possunt esse accidentia illi naturae, sicut probatum est distinctione 2 quia intelligere eius et velle eius sunt substantia eius, et habitus et potentia, etc.]

B. Probatio simplicitatis Dei ex mediis communibus

1. From necessary being

if the First being is composed, let the components be called A and B. Let’s take A; is A of itself formally necessary being, or not, but is possible being. if it is of itself possible being, therefore the necessary being (the First) will be composed from the possible being, and so it will not be necessary being. If A is of itself necessary being, then it is of itself in the highest degree of actuality (ultima actualitate), and so it will not make a per se being with any other being. Likewise, if of itself it is a composed necessary being, it will be a necessary being through A, and for the same reason it will be a necessary being through B, and so it will be twice necessary being; necessary being will also be composed through something, which when it is removed, it will still be necessary being, which is impossible.

[Primo ex ratione necesse-esse, quia si Primum sit compositum, sint componentia a et b; quaero de a, si sit ex se formaliter necesse-esse, aut non, sed possibile-esse (alterum istorum oportet dare in quacumque re, sive in omni natura ex qua aliquid componitur). Si est ex se possibile-esse, ergo necesse-esse ex se componitur ex possibili, et ita non erit necesse-esse; si a est ex se necesse-esse, ergo est ex se ultima actualitate, et ita cum nullo facit per se unum. Similiter, si ex se est necesse-esse compositum, erit necesse-esse per a, et pari ratione erit necesse-esse per b, et ita erit bis necesse-esse; erit etiam compositum necesse-esse per aliquid, quo sublato nihil minus erit necesse-esse, quod est impossibile.]

2. From infinity

1. every component can be part of some total composite which is from it and another component.

2. Every part can be exceeded

3. it is against the notion of the infinite that it is able to be exceeded

4. ergo, etc.

[...et primo quod Deus non sit componibilis: per hoc, quod omne componibile potest esse pars alicuius totius compositi quod est ex ipso et alio componibili; omnis autem pars potest excedi; contra rationem vero infiniti est posse excedi, ergo etc.]

Confirmation of the argument:

1. every component lacks the perfection of that with which it is composed, so that that component does not have in itself every kind of identity with that [other component], because then it would not be able to enter into composition with it.

2. No infinite lacks that with which it can be in some way the same, indeed it has every such in itself according to perfect identity, because otherwise it could be understood to be more perfect, (for example, it would have that in itself as ‘composed’ and would not have the ‘infinite’).

3. It is against the notion of the infinite that it can be understood to be more perfect or that there is something more perfect than it.

[Et confirmatur ratio, et quasi idem est, - quia omne componibile caret perfectione illius cum quo componitur, ita quod illud componibile non habet in se omnem et omnimodam identitatem cum illo, quia tunc non posset cum illo componi; nullum infinitum caret eo cum quo potest esse aliquo modo idem, immo omne tale habet in se secundum perfectam identitatem, quia alias posset intelligi perfectius, puta si haberet illud in se sicut ‘compositum’ habet et illud ‘infinitum’ non habet; contra rationem autem infiniti simipliciter est quod ipsum posset intelligi perfectius vel aliquid perfectius eo.]

Furthermore: because if [the First being] is composed, therefore either from finite or infinite [parts]. If from infinite, no such being is composable, from the previous arguments from infinity. If from finite, it will not be infinite, because finite parts cannot render something infinite in perfection.

[ex hoc sequitur ulterius quod sit omnino incompositus, - quia si sit compositus, aut ergo ex finitis, aut ex infinitis: si ex infinitis, nullum tale est componibile, ex probatis; si ex finitis, ipsum non erit infinitum, quia finita non reddunt aliquid infinitum in perfectione sicut modo loquimur.]

Scotus contra Henry's Negotiating Intellect

Here is a follow-up on my previous quote of Henry on movement of the divine intellect as it knows itself and distinguishes the divine attributes. Scotus exploits the feature of Henry's explanation that allowed a "quasi" potency to precede the operation the divine intellect to posit a formal non-identity. The following text is from the section of the question on the formal distinction in which Scotus quotes Henry's arguments and objects against the general position (as opposed to citing arguments and criticizing them directly).

A bit of background: Scotus has two types of cognition, abstractive and intuitive. The commonly accepted way of distinguishing them is that intuitive cognition is of the thing qua existing and present, while abstractive cognition prescinds from the existence or non existence and pertains to the essence of the thing. This latter kind of cognition was the more controversial, for Scotus allowed that there could be abstractive cognition of the divine essence in this life.

Ordinatio I d. 8 pt. 1 q. 4 n.187 (ed. Vat. 257):

"Praeterea, intellectus intuitivus nullam habet distinctionem in obiecto nisi secundum quod exsistens est, quia sicut non cognoscit aliquod obiectum nisi ut exsistens, ita non cognoscit aliqua distincta formaliter in obiecto nisi ut exsistens est. Cum ergo intellectus divinus non cognoscat essentiam suam nisi intellectione intuitiva, quaecumque distinctio ponatur ibi in obiecto -- sive sit distinctorum obiectorum formalium, sive ut rationum causatarum per actum intellectus -- sequitur quod ista distinctio erit in obiecto ut actu exsistens est: et ita si ista est obiectorum formalium distinctorum in obiecto, erunt ista distincta formaliter (et tunc sequitur propositum, quod talis distinctio obiectorum formalium praecedit actum intellectus), si autem sit rationum causatarum peractum intelligendi, ergo intellectus divnus causabit aliquam intellectionem in essentia 'ut relationem rationis', ut est exsistens, quod videtur absurdum."

Furthermore, the intellect understanding intuitively has no distinction in the object except according as it is existing, because just as it does not know some object unless as existing, so it does not know things formally distinct in the object unless as it is existing. Since therefore the divine intellect does not know its own essence save by intuitive cognition, whatever distinction is posited there in the object -- whether it is of distinct formal objects or as notions caused by the act of the intellect -- it follows that that distinction will be in the object as it is existing in act: and so if that is of distinct formal objects in the object, they will be formally distinct (and then follows what is being argued, that such a distinction of formal objects precedes the act of the intellect). If however it is of notions caused by the act of understanding, therefore the divine intellect will cause some intellection in the essence as a relation of reason, as it is existing, which is false."

A Scotistic Argument

The original version of this argument had a pretty long section where I defined all my terms, but this doesn't seem too necessary and I'm omitting it here. I do want to repeat that Scotus does not explicitly make this very argument in just this way. When I wrote this I hadn't studied Scotus on this subject in nearly as much detail as I have by now, but I still think it expresses the mens Scoti pretty well. But the argument is from my own head, not out of Scotus' texts.

A Scotistic Argument that Divine Simplicity is Consistent With a Contingent Creation

1. God exists. (Proof omitted. Good arguments are ready to hand and in any case God’s existence is not controversial among orthodox Christians. Also worth noting with attempting to prove it here is that, given the notion of God as infinite being, etc., there can be only one such being. God is utterly unique.)

2. God’s existence is necessary. (Nothing can be prior to what is first, but God is the first cause; therefore nothing can cause God. God is the only possible infinite being, but infinite being cannot depend on finite being to obtain in any way. Therefore God is not contingent in any way.)

3. God is simple. (This means that God is not composed of any parts or elements, i.e. material parts, matter and form, substance and accidents, essence and existence, or any other compositional factors. Every composite being is posterior to its parts or elements, but God is posterior to nothing; therefore God is not composite. Every composite has a cause by which its disparate parts or elements have unity, but God’s existence and unity is necessary and uncaused; therefore God is not composite.)

4. There are no real distinctions in God. (This is a direct implication of #3. If there were real distinctions in God, then by definition one part or element would be really separable from another part or element. The conclusion is also implied in the understanding of God as infinite being, for if God had really distinct parts or elements, then one part or element would be limited and bounded by its distinction from the others; each part or element would be finite, and the aggregate could never constitute an infinite whole. If God is infinite, then he is unlimited, but real distinctions are real delimiting elements; therefore etc.)

5. God has knowledge and will. (Proof omitted. Again, this is not controversial among Christians.)
(a) God knows himself and all possibles. (Proof omitted. By a possible I mean anything that does not contain a contradiction within itself. God knows the divine nature, human nature, the men that exist and the men that might exist but don’t, and unicorns and dragons. He doesn’t know square circles or how to make a rock so big that he couldn’t pick it up.)
(b) God wills himself and his own goodness but not all possibles. (Given that being and the good are convertible [proof omitted], the infinite being is infinitely good. Given the nature of the will as defined, God wills unrestricted or infinite good, which is his own existence. God however cannot will the existence of every possible existent, since this would entail an infinite number of contradictions. God can will that I be smart or stupid but not both at once, that I exist or that I don’t exist, but not both at once, that something besides him exists or that nothing does, but not both at once. That would be contradictory.)

6. There are formal distinctions between God’s essence, knowledge and will. (God’s essence, knowledge, and will are not really distinct, since God is simple. But they are not merely conceptually distinct; therefore they are formally distinct. They are not merely conceptually distinct because they are different in ratio and not merely in our consideration: knowing is not convertible with being (while goodness and unity, on the other hand, are), and so forth. This applies within God’s knowledge and will as well. God knows in a single act all that he knows, so the divine ideas are not really distinct; but the ratio of one divine idea [say that of a cat] is not identical with the ratio of another [say that of a dog], since the difference between cats and dogs is not merely conceptual; therefore the divine ideas are more than merely conceptually distinct; therefore they are formally distinct. Again, God’s knowledge of the possible Socrates is not identical in ratio to God’s will that Socrates exist or not exist, but God’s act of knowledge and God’s act of will are not really distinct; therefore they are formally distinct.)

7. God necessarily wills his own goodness. (Given the necessity of God’s existence, the convertibility of God’s existence and his goodness, the real identity of—together with the formal distinction between—God’s nature and his will, and the definition of the will, God’s necessarily existing will cannot fail to will his own necessary existence and goodness.)

8. One act can have multiple distinct objects or termini. (This is an obvious principle. I can eat a meal in order both to nourish my body and to participate in a social function, even though these are distinct. A gunshot can produce both a wound and a loud noise, but these are distinct both in reality and in intention.)

9. God’s existence in itself does not necessarily entail the existence of creatures. (God’s existence is the existence of infinite being or pure act. But nothing in the nature of infinite being requires there to be finite being, or in the nature of unlimited act that there be a limited act. By nature God’s existence cannot be in any way caused or determined by anything outside himself; therefore the existence or non-existence of creatures leaves God exactly the same in himself either way. Since God’s existence is the existence of infinite being and infinite goodness, the existence of finite being and finite good adds nothing to God’s being and goodness, nor do their non-existence in any way detract from God’s being and goodness. Therefore God’s nature is in itself compatible both with the existence and with the non-existence of any other nature.)

10. The existence of creatures is contingent. (Nothing can be the cause of itself [self-evident principle], but every creature is caused; therefore every creature depends on something else to exist.)

11. Only God can produce creatures. (Within the creaturely order one creature produces another, i.e. my father produces me and I produce my children. But the creaturely order itself, i.e. that there are creatures at all, cannot be produced by creatures but only by God. A thorough proof of this would be the inverse of a proof for God’s existence.)

12. God produces some creatures and fails to produce others through his will. (If there are creatures, then they are produced by God. But there are creatures, therefore etc. God’s production of creatures is either natural or voluntary. But God’s nature is indifferent to the production or non-production of creatures, therefore the production or non-production of creatures is not natural, therefore it is voluntary.)

13. An act having multiple distinct objects may be necessarily determined towards one object and not necessarily determined towards another object. (This can be shown by examples. If I am to eat a meal, it is [conditionally] necessary that I chew my food, but the necessity of chewing my food does not affect the contingency of the meal also serving a social end. If I am to live it is [conditionally] necessary that I eat, but given this necessity it is not therefore necessary that I eat bread instead of meat; some further determination of the act is still required. One more example: if an archer fires an arrow from his bow, it is [conditionally] necessary that the arrow pass through the air, but not thereby necessary that the arrow hit target A, target B, or no target at all. Some further determination of the act is required. Furthermore, if per impossibile it were absolutely rather than conditionally necessary that the arrow be fired, whether the arrow hits or fails to hit a target is still completely contingent on some further determining factor. The act of firing an arrow in itself, in its nature considered as such, is indifferent to hitting or not hitting a target—it is just as possible that every shot hit the ground as it is that some shot hit a target.)

14. God wills himself and creatures by one identical act. (From God’s simplicity. See #3 and #4.)

15. God’s willing his own goodness and his willing the production of creatures are really identical but formally distinct. (From the formal distinction in the divine understanding between the ratio of God’s own [necessary] nature and the rationes of any other [contingent] natures. See #5 and #6.)

16. God’s act of will towards himself is necessarily determined. (It is necessary that God’s being and goodness exist; therefore given the nature of the will to will the good, if God wills anything about himself he wills his being and goodness. See #1, #2, #5, and #7.)

17. God’s willing his own existence and goodness does not in itself determine his will to create or refrain from creating creatures. (See #8-12 and especially #13. God is a voluntary agent like a man is an archer. If a man is to be an archer he must fire at least one arrow; if God is to be a voluntary agent he must perform at least one [and in this case, due to divine simplicity, only one] volitional act. If an arrow is fired it is necessarily entailed that the arrow at least pass through the air; if God wills he must at least will his own infinite goodness. The necessity to pass through the air entailed in firing an arrow does not in itself determine whether the arrow will perform the additional operation of hitting a target; similarly the necessity of willing his own infinite being and goodness does not in itself determine whether God’s act of will performs the additional operation of willing some finite being and goodness.)

18. Nothing besides God’s will can determine God’s will to create or to refrain from creating. (The created world, i.e. finite being, does not determine its own existence; the divine nature in itself qua infinite being is indeterminate with regard to the existence or non-existence of finite being. In other words the simple existence of infinite being in itself is a necessary but not sufficient condition for the existence of finite being: finite being cannot exist without infinite being, but infinite being can exist without finite being. Since the divine nature does not determine the divine will towards creatures, but only determines the divine will towards itself, and since nothing outside God can determine anything inside God in any way, therefore nothing whatsoever can determine the divine will as regards creatures precisely insofar as it is formally distinct from the divine nature and from the divine will as regards the divine nature, other than this will itself in its own ratio.)

Therefore I conclude:

19. God’s will to create or to refrain from creating is self-determined, i.e. free.

20. The existence of creatures is radically contingent on the divine will. The divine will itself is necessary with regard to the divine nature and neither necessary nor contingent with regard to creatures, but free. There is contingency in creatures but none in God. The one, simple divine act is in one sense absolutely necessary and in another sense absolutely free.

Divine Simplicity and the Formal Distinction, Part 2

The first part of this essay is posted here.

In order to grasp the kind of simplicity which all Christians acknowledge is proper to God it may be useful to look briefly, for contrast, at the conception of Neoplatonist philosophers like Plotinus. Plotinus’ theology has strong prima facie similarities to Christian theology. He posits an absolute first principle beyond the world, not a part of it, from which the world and all beings are produced or emanate. He posits three “primal hypostases,” the One, the Intellect, and the Soul, which seem to correspond to the three Persons of the Trinity. Upon examination, however, strong differences emerge. The three hypostases for Plotinus are not coequal, of one substance, and so forth. The One is really prior to and greater than the Intellect, which is prior to and generates the Soul. The One is “beyond Being,” in a way that recalls the formulations of some Orthodox theologians, and is absolutely simple in a way unacceptable to Christians. In the One there are no differentiations or multiplicities whatsoever, so there is no knowledge, no will, no properties, no relations—in a sense, nothing; in another sense, everything, but in a manner wholly without distinction. The first distinctions are reserved for the Intellect, which necessarily emanates from the One, similar to it but lesser, since it contains the first seeds of multiplicity. The Intellect knows all things and contains within itself the exemplary forms of all possible beings, in a single unified glance, but with the distinction of subject and object. The One has no thoughts, while the Intellect thinks all things within itself. However, the Intellect does not will or produce the world, but necessarily generates the Soul, which has the function of necessarily (no free and voluntary creation here) reproducing the Intellect’s Ideas in the lower world.
Without elaborating Plotinian philosophy at unnecessary length, the differences between this kind of theology and any Christian theology are enormous and unacceptable. As Christians we must affirm that all three hypostases in the Trinity are equal in substance, power, knowledge, glory, and everything else that applies to God. The Father can be no more simple than the Son and Spirit, nor less of a creator or less all-knowing. Everything that one has, all have. Neoplatonic philosophy can have really absolute simplicity because anything involving distinction or multiplicity can be relegated to the posterior and lesser divine hypostases. For Christians since the divine hypostases are coequal in every way, differing only in their origin, this is not a way out. If the Word of God has a multiplicity of knowledge or the Spirit of God a multiplicity of will, so must God the Father.
But we do want and need to say that there is some sort of multiplicity in God. Leaving aside the distinctions between the Persons of the Trinity, we have to say, for instance, that God is both wise and just. But wisdom and justice are not the same thing; they have different definitions; therefore God must have two attributes, wisdom and justice. Furthermore, God knows and thinks of me, and He knows and thinks of you. But I am not you; thinking of me is different than thinking of you; therefore God must have two thoughts, one of me and one of you. Further examples can be multiplied indefinitely. And yet in spite of this Catholics insist that God remains entirely without composition and therefore entirely simple.
How to get around this? Orthodox theology, to the probable knowledge of anyone reading this essay, does so by means of the essence/energies distinction. God’s essence is “beyond Being,” wholly unknowable, unapproachable, wrapped in the eternal divine darkness. Everything that can be known or experienced or spoken of in God relates to the divine energies, the logoi, the rationes, the predestinations, i.e. all of His thoughts, acts of will, operations, attributes, etc. These energies are uncreated; they are God and not His creatures or effects—and yet they are really distinct from the divine essence and from one another.
My intention here is neither to embrace nor critique this Orthodox formulation. On one interpretation of the real distinction between essence and energy in God, I believe it is either perfectly consistent with Catholic theology; on another interpretation it is certainly inconsistent with Catholic thought and (possibly) nonsensical in itself. My purpose for the present however is to show why Catholic theologians would not formulate any answer to the problem on these terms.
Recall that for the Latin tradition it is inappropriate to refer to God as “beyond Being” when, for reasons given above, Being is God’s own proper name. Recall also that Aristotle, who first formulated the term energeia, meant by the word what is translated in scholastic Latin as “actuality,” and not “operation,” as later Greek theologians used it. Recall again that God’s Being, since it is devoid of all potentiality, is therefore pure actuality, that in God essence and existence are one and the same, and that therefore to a Latin mind God’s essence and his energeia would very naturally be considered to be identical. This however tends to produce arguments about words, not substance. The real question is, do or can Latin thinkers posit along with Greeks a set of uncreated “somethings” distinct from God’s essence and from each other?
Well, the prima facie answer is no. The most familiar Catholic approach to this problem, the Thomistic one, would conclude that the Orthodox formulation introduces too much distinction into God and makes Him complex, composite, not supremely One.
For Thomas as for Orthodoxy the divine mystery surpasses all created understanding. God in His essence can never be exhaustively grasped. The fact that we know something about the essence, its proper name of Being, the fact that we know God to be ipsum esse subsistens, does not mean that we understand God’s Being, that we can put it in its place in our systems of categories. We know His name but we don’t know what it means; although we can know the essences of created things we can’t know what it is to be God. All knowledge and all concepts we have of God in this state of the viator are derived from His effects, His creatures, and while every creature reflects Him and can give us knowledge of Him, none does so fully or adequately. Because of this concepts that we have of God, which are true of Him, are necessarily separate and exclusive, while the reality in God which they (truly) reflect is identical. So from one creature I may derive the idea of God’s justice, and from another the idea of God’s wisdom, and in every creaturely instance that can present itself justice and wisdom are non-identical properties; therefore I am forced to think of God’s justice and wisdom as distinct, even though I know that due to His simplicity they are actually identical with each other. Everything that God has, he is: so for Him to be, to be just, to be wise, are all one and the same thing. God’s simple nature, his simple act of Being, in itself always wholly and entirely just and wise, is reflected and imitated in creatures now as justice, now as wisdom. Similarly God is His thought, and therefore thinks of you and of me and of all individuals in a single simple ineffable thought which is himself, and yet knows all these distinct composite beings in His own simple act of Being. This is incomprehensible to us since we are unable to think that way. And again, by His one simple act God produces now necessarily (in the Trinitarian processions) and now freely and contingently (in creation); in one action he voluntarily creates a multitude of effects, the way a skilled archer can shoot two arrows and hit two targets with a single shot. We see God’s thoughts, actions, and wills as distinct because of the limitation of our knowledge, not because there is actual composite multiplicity there. In other words, God’s essence and his attributes are notionally and not really distinct.
For the Orthodox theologian this sounds as though it cannot be right without producing a number of gravely unacceptable consequences. To name just one, how can God freely create if His necessary essence is completely identical with His will? Won’t His will have to be equally necessary? Won’t creation be reduced to a series of necessary emanations, as for Plotinus? To the Orthodox theologian it looks as though the Thomistic account allows too little distinction in God and thereby robs Him of distinctively Christian attributes.
Traditionally the Catholic way to truth has been to find the middle way between opposing positions. Sometimes this requires finding the truth that balances two opposing errors, the way Aristotelian virtues find the mean between two opposite vices. Here it would be gravely rash to accuse both Palamas and Thomas of being heretical; I find it much more likely to assume that neither of them are, and to look for a middle way which could see and affirm the truth in each.
In order to see what this middle way might consist of, I have to stop a moment and talk about distinctions. So far I have acknowledged two kinds of distinctions, real and notional or mental. It is relatively simple to grasp the meaning of each. Two things are really distinct when they are really independent, or when they can really be separated, or when one can really exist without the other. Corporeal parts are obviously really distinct in this way. So are metaphysical elements, such as matter and form: this matter can take other forms than the one it now has, and this form can inform other lumps of matter than the one it currently does. Two things are mentally or notionally distinct when in reality they are identical but in my knowledge or concepts they are separate. Mark Twain and Samuel Clemens are really identical but they may be mentally distinct. In the two formulas “2+2=x” and “3+1=y” x and y are notionally distinct but really identical.
It seems clear then that when Palamas posits real distinctions in God and Thomas merely notional distinctions, they are saying radically different things and they cannot both be right. However I suspect that this is not the case. For to take Palamas at face value seems to introduce real composition into God, and to take Thomas at face value seems to imply that even the Persons of the Trinity are really all one and the same, as well as problems with divine freedom, etc. Neither of these thinkers however would be at all willing to grant any of these conclusions and so, unless we want to convict one or the other or both of radical inconsistently, we must find a way to understand them which is not absurd or contradictory.
I think that this way is through Bl. John Duns Scotus’s formal distinction, the distinctio formalis a parte rei, formal distinction on the part of the thing. This kind of distinction finds the middle ground between fully real and merely notional distinctions, but it is subtle and more difficult to grasp than the other two. Let’s try to get a sense of it through a few examples.
Perhaps most people have seen those visual puzzles that seem to produce an optical illusion. On a piece of paper there is a single figure in black ink. What is it? Viewed in one way it is clearly a picture of two black faces turned towards each other with white space in the middle; viewed from another way it looks like a white cup with an incomplete black outline. Which is the true picture? Clearly both are “there.” When asked how many images there are we have to say that there is one figure or shape but two pictures or two images. They are not merely notionally distinct: a face is not a cup and a picture of one is not a picture of the other. And yet they are not really distinct: one cannot be removed or changed without destroying the other. The puzzle has been constructed such that here really is one shape or figure and two pictures or images, and these images are formally distinct.
Again, think of a book, say, the Iliad. It contains a number of different—well, we will call them formalities. It contains themes (the rage of Achilles, the horrors of war, the beauty of nature etc.), characters (Achilles, Hector, Odysseus etc.), a plot (the sequence of events from the quarrel of Achilles and Agamemnon to the truce of Achilles and Priam), as well as meter, vocabulary, the Greek Alphabet, and so forth. Now surely these are not all merely notionally distinct. The character of Achilles cannot be reduced to the letters of the Alphabet or to the instances in which the sequence of letters in his name occurs in the poem. The plot is not identical to the meter. And yet they are not really distinct either: each of these different formalities or elements is embodied in every other and is wholly inseparable from them. The characters and the plot and the vocabulary all shape and determine each other in a unique way to form this individual poem, and all exist simultaneously and in harmony in the very same determinate sequence of words and letters. Each set of formalities is identical with the poem, and each is formally distinct from the other.
Finally, to take a philosophical example that Scotus actually discusses, I in my individuality am not really distinct from my nature. I can not exist as this individual with my humanity (nor can humanity exist without being the humanity of some or other individual man). But my individuality and my humanity are not merely notionally distinct—it is not true for Scotus as it is for Thomas that matter is the principle of individuation and that therefore an individual person is merely a singular instance of the nature. For Scotus there is really a formal me-ness which makes me distinct from all other men—and yet, though this is my intrinsic and essential form, I also share the formal essence “humanity” with all men and my me-ness cannot be really distinct from this human-ness. Socrates is himself by his form; he is a man by his humanity and he is Socrates by his Socrateity. Socrateity and humanity then are a single substantial form in Socrates, but they are also and at the same time two formally distinct formalities. This implies no composition in Socrates’ form (although there is certainly composition in Socrates). Socrateity and humanity are not added or blended together to produce the whole. Rather each is the whole, each contains and is limited by the other.
By now the application of the formal distinction to the problem of divine simplicity should be obvious. With our third and middle distinction to show the way we can see how there can be a plurality in God without there being a true multiplicity. The infinity of ideas within God is a real infinity of formalities, without there being an infinity of separate forms in God. God’s free will and His necessary knowledge are not identical, they indicate a real difference; to the precise degree that to will and to know are different they indicate two formalities in God, and yet each is inseparable from the simple actuality of God’s infinite Being. Applications to Trinitarian theology should also suggest themselves. Paternity is not the same thing as Filiation; Fatherhood and Sonship are not identical; in the divine generation then there can be two (and three) distinct realities in the form of three distinct hypostases or supposits without there being a real multiplicity in being or substance. Since Fatherhood, Unbegottenness, Fontal Plenitude, Monarchy, or however the First Person is best characterized, is not entirely and completely identical with the Divine Being, there is a “real” distinction between the Father and the essence without there being a real distinction; that is, the Father can be God, and all of God, without this precluding the Son and the Spirit also being God. The way in which all this is fully and consistently elaborated, however, is of course, far beyond the scope of my present ambition.
Since this essay is not scholarly in character I cannot attempt to prove that this is the view implicitly looked for in both Thomistic and Palamite theologies, but hindered by a poverty of vocabulary and (perhaps) conceptual subtlety. Nevertheless I suspect strongly that such is the case. This Scotistic middle way both avoids the pitfalls of a real distinction between God’s essence and his attributes which seems (if the term “real” is stressed at all strongly) to lead inexorably to some form of composition in God, as well as those of merely notional distinctions in Him which seem not to allow for simultaneous contingency and necessity, for meaningful differences between being, knowing, willing, creating, and operating. Because Palamas does not want to introduce composition into God and because Thomas does not want to prohibit free unnecessitated creation, I believe that neither the one nor the other should be hastily accused of putting either too much or too little distinction in God. Rather, just as the medievals interpreted the Fathers charitably whenever a Father used words which seemed to conflict with known dogmatic truth, showing that the Father could be understood in an orthodox way as well as in the apparently heretical way, so we ourselves should charitably interpret the medievals. Thus before we accuse Thomas’ views of inevitably implying consequences which he himself would condemn as damnable heresy, it is our duty to ask ourselves if his views can be understood in a manner which does not imply such views. In any case, whatever a historian may eventually show St Thomas to have held, it seems to me clear that, thanks to Blessed John, Catholic dogma itself can certainly be interpreted in a way which attributes to God the right amount of distinction, neither too much nor too little.
When I began this essay I intended to devote a significant portion of it not only to the exposition of the problem and Scotistic solution of divine simplicity, but also on the effect that the doctrine has on Catholic mystical theology and deification. Orthodox writers frequently claim that their distinction between God’s essence and energies is necessary to preserve an authentic experiential mysticism and true theosis, and I intended to show that neither of these is absent in genuine Catholic tradition. I find now however that I have already gone on longer than intended and must only give the broadest sketch at this point.
As noted in the beginning, mystical theology has its seeds in the patriarchal walking, talking, wrestling with God, while dogmatic theology begins in the personal revelation of God as Being and as One. We cannot, however, divorce Moses and mysticism, for Moses saw the back of God as He passed by; Moses spoke with God face to face like a man does with His friend; and when Moses descended from the mountain the divine light shone from his face. In the obvious foreshadowing this event has of the Transfiguration we see a mystical experience tied to dogmatic revelation in a way that seems particularly “Orthodox,” while Catholic mysticism has tended to find its Old Testament exemplar with Elijah in the cave, listening to the still, small voice. For the Orthodox, mystical experience and the very joy of the blessed in heaven reach as far as the uncreated energies of God while leaving the divine essence “beyond Being,” untouchable, ungraspable, wholly shrouded in the dark cloud of unknowing. We with Moses can see the glory of God in His back, and participate in it, and this glory can shine forth from our countenance, but we do not see him face to face. Catholics however, insisting more on the divine simplicity than on the divine plurality, and holding that God is not “beyond Being” but IS being, do not take the revelation and experience on Sinai to be the final and definitive word. God IS unfathomable, he is ungraspable. But he dwells not so much in a divine darkness beyond being but in the infinite light of infinite Being, so bright that it blinds our finite minds and seems like darkness. And so the vision of God’s back in the end is not the best that humanity can do; after long acquaintance with the Word of God, after suffering and persecution and near-despair, we may find ourselves once again on a mountain with the glory and splendor and terror of the divine operations surrounding us. But though they do indeed reveal Him God is not really in the wind or the fire or the earthquake, but in the still, small voice speaking within us. Thus St John of the Cross’s distrust of mystical “manifestations”; to take the experience of the Light of Tabor as normative for Christian experience would I suspect strike him as rather bizarre.
For both Catholic and Orthodox the mystical experience of the viator is both foretaste and preparation for the fullness of the next life. Both affirm that by grace we become partakers in the divine nature. For the Orthodox however this is by participating in the energies of God, seeing him now like Moses on Sinai, and then like the Apostles seeing Christ on Tabor. But Catholic mysticism goes beyond this: though God dwells in light inaccessible, yet in His light we shall see light. Now we know in part, but then face to face. We will be like Him, for we will know Him as he is. These phrases have a different sense for the Catholic, for, with his emphasis on God’s simplicity, not considering the divine energies as in any way secondary “things” to God’s essence, he indeed hopes to see God in His very essence itself in the Beatific Vision.
Two things may be noted in connection with this. The first is the connection for the Catholic between simplicity and perfection in prayer. The deeper and the better I learn to pray, the more all my diverse faculties will be quieted, stilled, drawn up and united into a simple loving gaze focused on God. All of the complicated “practices” associated with Catholic prayer belong to its early stages. True prayer is like that of St John Vianny, who used to simply sit before the Sacrament and look at God as God looked at him. In this life we in no way draw near to God’s essence in prayer, but as our attention on him becomes more and more simple and reposed in a kind of loving knowledge, a kind of ever-deepening knowing love, we become better disposed for the vision of God’s essence upon glorification.
The second thing to be noted is that the kind of union attained upon the Beatific Vision is neither, as some Orthodox claim, a hypostatic union in which the distinction between Creator and creature is eliminated, and nor is it a devaluation of God’s transcendency, as though its possibility implied that the depths of divine being could be plumbed. True, in Latin theology the blessed are called “comprehensors,” they comprehend God when they see him whole. But the manner of this comprehension is like the way in which I see a great and profound painting: I see it all at once, for there is no part of it which I do not see. And yet I do not grasp its entire meaning and beauty; indeed, although in one sense as I continue to gaze on it I never see anything new, in another and more important sense the longer I look the more I see. The Beatific Vision is like that. It is a union, not of hypostasis, so that distinction of natures is erased, but a union of knowledge and love, in which our whole soul is informed by God as its object while remaining in its nature itself.
To conclude, may I say that it is immediately apparent that there are wide and significant divergences in Catholic and Orthodox prayer and mystical theology. As I hope this essay has to some extent indicated, the roots of these differences can be at least to some extent traced back to differences in dogmatic theology. While I have certainly been concerned, however, to justify the Catholic attitude and approach in all the matters dealt with, and to defend it against accusations of bearing false implications, I hope I have also indicated room for hope that between the two theologies (and therefore the two mysticisms) the gulf is not necessarily impassible. The two notions of Christian experience which seem so incompatible are based on two dogmatic accounts of the Godhead which themselves seem incompatible. And yet if, as I believe, an intellectually rigorous account of divine simplicity exists which ought to satisfy both sides, perhaps the two sides are not as far apart as they seem to each other, but may in fact eventually find one another mutually complementary.
There seems to be evidence on which to support this hope that neither side may prove in the end to have simply been wrong on dogmatic issues (although only a few could be touched on here). After all, throughout the centuries, neither Catholics nor Orthodox have ceased to produce saints.