A mediaevalist trying to be a philosopher and a philosopher trying to be a mediaevalist write about theology, philosophy, scholarship, books, the middle ages, and especially the life, times, and thought of the Doctor Subtilis, the Blessed John Duns Scotus.
Tuesday, November 13, 2018
My MicroNarrative
Here I want to propose a counter-narrative, though it is more fact-based than interpretative, so it probably does not count as a narrative. And it does not explain the present, but is the sequence of what went on in the 12th-14th centuries. The narrative is ultimately more driven by the waves of Aristotelian translations than anything else.
Step 1: In the twelfth century, the common opinion among the theologians was that perfections or attributes are said univocally of God and creatures. The basic sense of univocity was that of Aristotle's Categories.
Step 2: Aristotle's Metaphysics and Posterior analytics were translated. Aristotle's view in the former is that being is said in many ways. This sense is what became the "analogy of being". Following the Arab commentators one could posit it as "midway" between equivocity and univocity, or following Boethius, one could take the division of the Categories as immediate; there is no medium between univocity and equivocity, analogy becomes equivocity, in particular, 'equivocal by design', as opposed to pure equivocity. Aquinas himself seems a bit ambiguous here. He often says analogy is a middle way between the extremes, but he clearly knew the Boethian definition, for in Summa contra gentiles when he rejects equivocity he rejects "pure" equivocity. But he does not identify analogy as an equivocal by design. At this step, there is no attempt to unite the metaphysics with the notion of a science in the Posterior analytics
Step 3: The posterior analytics' criteria for science are applied to the science of being, requiring univocity. An early defense of univocity was launched in the 1280's, though I have not found who it was. Their attempt posited a real agreement between God and creatures. Scotus himself attacks this person, as did William of Ware and Peter Sutton. Scotus also posits univocity, at some stage, the univocal concept of being may well be common to God of creatures, the object of the intellect, and the subject of metaphysics. Scotus retains the analogy of being.
Step 4: Criticism of Scotus. Scotus is the locus of the discussion. Early critics reject his position and return to equivocity of being, linked to some 12th c. discussions as well as Porphyry and Boethius. Ockham jettisons analogy.
With the emerge of Ockham, the basic positions of the scholastic discussion are set until the dissolution of scholasaticism itself: equivocity of being, univocity of being with analogy, univocity alone, analogy of being alone. There was much discussion of the issue during the 14th century. I have found little discussion in Franciscans of the fifteenth century on the topic. Perhaps I haven't looked hard enough. Most mention it, but say nothing interesting and don't devote questions to it. Thus there is some justice in Mastri's comment that there was little discussion of analogy before Cajetan. Cajetan revived the debate (note I deny the existence of a distinction between first or second scholasticism and the fanciful claims made today about Cajetan restarting scholasticism). By Mastri's day (17th c.) there were extensive debates among the schools about analogy and univocity, long after the RO narrative has jumped to Luther and Kant. In truth, analogy was never abandoned by anyone save Ockham and the nominalists, certainly not by Scotus and the Scotists.
Get to work in the comments and tear this apart!
Saturday, February 20, 2016
Ashworth on Analogy
"Despite the vast modern literature devoted to Aquinas's theory of analogy, he has very little to say about analogy as such."
Discuss
Sunday, September 22, 2013
Pope Francis on Thomism
"The church has experienced times of brilliance, like that of Thomas Aquinas. But the church has lived also times of decline in its ability to think. For example, we must not confuse the genius of Thomas Aquinas with the age of decadent Thomist commentaries. Unfortunately, I studied philosophy from textbooks that came from decadent or largely bankrupt Thomism. In thinking of the human being, therefore, the church should strive for genius and not for decadence."
Ouch! Even I, Scotist though I be, have spent many happy hours poring over Thomist manuals. I can only dream of such an education.
We might ask, why were they decadent? It is contrasted with "thinking of the human being", which perhaps means restricting ones' theologizing and philosophizing to human affairs and human nature. so no transcendental metaphysics, no seven-fold division of distinction? I'm not really sure. Of course, who would disagree that the church should strive for genius and not decadence?
Maybe this is the best response.
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
Lecture: 'Aquinas between East and West'
Wednesday, January 2, 2013
Thomism and the Magisterium
Update:
Commentator Jared has posted some printed sources that bear on the question, which I repost here.
Willibrord Lampen, Bl. Ioannes Duns Scotus et Sancta Sedes (Rome, 1929).
Franz Pelster, “The Authority of St. Thomas in Catholic Schools and Sacred Sciences," Franciscan Studies 13 (1953): 1-26.
Charles Balić, “Duns Scotus in the Present Moment of the Church” in Scotus Speaks Today: 1266-1966: Seventh Centenary Symposium (Southfield, MI: Duns Scotus College, 1966), 21-62
Also, Fr. Finigan has a post from several years ago about this, which involved one of the commentators who has posted here. Fr. Finigan posts the quote from Denzinger about the letter of the Jesuits to the pope about the 24 Thomistic theses.
Another update:
An essay on "traditionalism" that contains relevant material.
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Against the Real Distinction of Essence and Existence
Reminder of the meanings of the terms:
A distinctio ex natura rei is any distinction obtaining apart from the activity of the intellect, including the divine intellect.
A distinctio realis (or distincta realiter) is a distinction between entities that can exist without each other. Probably a subset of the ex natura rei distinction. Sometimes, as in the case of body and soul, only one of the items can exist without the other.
A distinctio formalis obtains ex natura rei but the items so distinguished (definitions, quiddities, formalities, parts of definitions, etc.) are not separable.
Ratio: probably here means definition, or a formal nature.
From Himbertus, Rep IA d. 36 a. 2 (ed D-S, 199-200):
There is a second mode of speaking, which is of our Doctor [=Scotus], that essence and actual existence are not really distinguished. Which is proved thus: whenever some things are really distinct, and one descends from the other, if that which descends is real, then that which remains will be real, as is clear regarding whiteness in a wall; but actual existence descends from essence, and essence remains, and nevertheless is not real; therefore they are not really distinguished.
The second argument: if essence and actual existence are really distinguished, essence will actually exist without actual existence, because whenever some things differ really, one is able to be [esse] without the other; but essence is not able to actually exist without actual existence; therefore they are really the same.
Here are two doubts. It is said that essence is distinguished from actual existence: is it distinguished formally? I say that it is not, because when some things have the same definitional and quidditative ratio, they are the same formally; but essence and actual existence have the same definitional and quidditative ratio; therefore they are the same formally. The major premise is proved, for the formal ratio is taken from the definitional and quidditative ratio. The minor premise is also clear, because neither something else nor a new quiddity is acquired through actual existence.
Second thus: that which does not vary the formal ratio of something does not differ formally from that which it does not vary; but actual existence does not vary the formal ratio of essence; therefore it does not differ formally from it.
The second doubt is if essence and actual existence are distinguished ex natura rei. I say that they are, because whenever it is the case that something befalls one which does not befall the other, those are distinguished ex natura rei, if it befalls them ex natura rei; but it befalls essence that it is not in act, but in potency, and [it befalls] actual existence that it is in act; therefore they are distinguished ex natura rei.
Again, it befalls essence that it is indifferent to being and non being; but actual existence is not indifferent, because it is in act. Whence I say that actual existence and essence are the same really.
Monday, April 23, 2012
Leonine Edition of Thomas's Summa - In Print
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Review of John W. Carlson's "Word's of Wisdom": "Evil"
In my previous entry, I asked, “Given the plethora of dictionaries, one might wonder: do we really need another? Why purchase John W. Carlson's Words of Wisdom?” I examined some of the cognitive narrowness that underlies the bibliography. See also this entry. Here I look at the content of Carlson’s book by examining how he defines one of the terms. In order to give the reader an idea of what he may be missing, I try to be fairly thorough below.
To see the relative value of Carlson's entries, we can turn to an example -- "evil," for instance. Carlson uses a similar method in his introduction, n. 11, where he demonstrates the inadequacies of various modern dictionaries by analyzing their definition of “being”. Here I will compare Carlson’s entry to that of other dictionaries in the same genre (unmentioned in his introduction or bibliography): Wuellner's Dictionary of Scholastic Philosophy (1956), and Signoriello's Lexicon Peripateticum Philosophico-Theologicum (1931); this is more than a dictionary because of the helpful “Effata” section, which I will describe below. For additional interest, I will briefly look at Peter of Bergamo's Tabula Aurea (1484); because of its scope, it is both more and less than a dictionary. Less, because it provides only Thomas's definitions and uses of terms; these may be too narrow for other scholastic traditions to agree with. More, because it provides many references for Thomas's various uses of a term; this is far more than one can expect from even a good dictionary.
1. Carlson: evil:
Not merely the lack of good, but the absence of a good that ought to be present -- e.g., blindness in an eye. Evil is commonly distinguished into "natural" or "physical" evil and "moral" evil, the latter involving bad personal acts, which result specifically from defective uses of the will. In Scholastic terminology, moral evil is sometimes called "evil of fault" (Latin malum culpae) or "evil done."
2. Wuellner: evil:
The privation or lack of a good which naturally belongs to a nature; the absence of a good which is natural and due to a being.
[Wuellner divides “evil” into six categories (I will not provide the definitions he gives for each)]
- metaphysical evil: anything finite, because lacking in complete goodness; any limitation even though it is natural to a being (Leibniz; but not accepted in scholasticism as a correct description of evil).
- moral evil: privation of rectitude in human acts; a sin. [Moral evil has three species: formally evil, intrinsically evil, and materially evil.]
- Occasion of evil
- Physical evil
- Principle of evil
- Supreme evil
Wuellner also provides his usual concise references: “St. Augustine, Confessions, passim. S.T., I, 48, aa 1-3; 49, a. 1; I-II, 18, a. 1; 19, a. 5; C.G. III, cc 6-8. De Malo.”
3. Signoriello: malum (my translation):
[First entry directs the reader to Defectus-Malum-Peccatum-Culpa]
Defectus (defect) simply signifies the negation of some good. But malum (evil) signifies privation, or a defect of being in the thing, of something which it naturally ought to have; e.g., “the lack of life in a stone can be called a defect but not evil; but for man death is a defect and evil” (In lib. II Sent. , d. 30, q. 1, a. 2). The evil that is vulgarly called metaphysical, or the defect of every mode of perfection in a created being, is not properly evil because any created being excludes perfection, still less calls for it. Peccatum (sin) consists in action, “insofar as what is not upright as the end demands; for example a grammarian not writing well, or a doctor not preparing a medicine well” (ibid). Culpa (fault) “adds to sin, since it is an act of the will”; for “sin is in things which exist according to some art; but fault cannot exist unless it is in things that exist through the will; for reason cannot obtain fault except in what is condemnable, nor condemnation should be given on account of an inordinate act unless that act was under the subject’s dominion; but to have dominion over one’s acts, such as able to do something or not to do something, is characteristic of the will” (In lib. II Sent., d. 35, q. 1., a. 1).
[Second entry on malum: malum naturae and malum culpae]
The malum naturae (evil of nature) is an entiative privation to something due; its kind in man is the privation of an eye or a foot, etc. This evil of nature “whenever it arises from natural causes, then it is called an evil of nature not only because a good of nature is lacking, but also because it is an effect of nature, such as natural death, and other similar defects: but other times an evil of nature proceeds from a non-natural cause, such as death which is violently inflicted in persecution” (I-II, q. 42, a. 2). The malum culpae or morale (evil of fault or moral evil) consists in a discrepancy between one’s actions and right reason.[Effata: scholastic philosophic axioms. I list only the axiom, not the rather helpful explanations for each]
Evil is the contrary to both good and evil.
Evil in some way follows from good.
Evil is praeter intentionem (other than the intention) in the thing.
Evil is in the many, good is in the few, or, evil more than the good is found in the many.
Evil is not some nature. From this axiom follows others:
Nothing is able to be per se evil.
Evil is in some good.
The supreme evil simpliciter is not able to be.
Evil does not wholly devour (consumit) good.
Evil has some sort of cause.
4. Bergamo: malum:
[Bergamo’s analysis of Thomas’s use of malum is so extensive that I can provide only an outline of his entry. He provides categories of analysis. I will provide a couple of examples for each category.]
Here, then, are some thoughts on Carlson’s Words of Wisdom:
Against my critiques, one might say that Carlson is doing the best he can, that his work is better than nothing, and that at least it is in print. But I wonder if he wouldn’t have helped himself out much more by translating an older scholastic dictionary, or by re-working Wuellner’s dictionary (which is both more accurate and less than half the length) in light of contemporary developments and concerns. As it is, Carlson’s Words of Wisdom: A Philosophical Dictionary for the Perennial Tradition bites off more than he can chew. There is as much theology as there is philosophy in it, which is another indication of the dictionary’s over-reaching nature. I am sad to say that what could have been very valuable is only minimally so.
"Evil words corrupt good manners," says the old proverb, variously attributed to St. Paul (1 Cor 15:33), Menander, and Aeschylus. This much one can derive from The Wordsworth Dictionary of Proverbs. That information, combined with nuggets gleaned from a Biblical commentary and Wikipedia, reminds me that a variant on the translation -- "Bad company corrupts good morals" -- was the inspiration of the name of a 1970's rock band. My point here is that there are so many sources of information available that another dictionary needs to be pretty remarkable to justify its existence. Being in print does not count as being remarkable, unless you happen to be the publisher. If a dictionary does not serve its purpose and clarify the meanings of words, it is attaching vague ideas to terms that the student will later use to the detriment of authentic learning and conversation. "Vague words are bad manners," one might say. Or, "Muddy terms pollute the stream of conversation." Thus, regarding the entries in Words of Wisdom themselves, their usefulness lies mostly in a) reminding a reasonably well-read student of philosophy or theology of what he already knows, b) suggesting descriptions of a term that often cohere with more accurate definitions found in truly scholastic and Thomistic works, and c) hinting to the reasonably well-read student that he turn elsewhere for a more careful analysis of the term in question.
Sunday, April 8, 2012
John W. Carlson's "Words of Wisdom": Bibliography
Given the plethora of dictionaries, one might wonder: do we really need another? Why purchase John W. Carlson's Words of Wisdom? Perhaps the publisher was hoping a catchy title would signal the book's pretensions: "This is no ordinary philosophic dictionary," the title seems to say, "rather, this dictionary cares about wisdom and tries to foster it." Ambitious. Does it succeed?
Regarding the bibliography, the cut-and-paste powers of the computer were well-employed here. There is little one couldn't find in the bibliography of a contemporary Thomistic-oriented dissertation. Furthermore, as was pointed out earlier in this blog, the perspective of these bibliographies is rather limited. Here are the divisions with my thoughts on them.
- Section I, Works by St. Thomas Aquinas in English. This confirms what the title of the book implies: that the target buyer-peruser of this work is an under-educated student or professor of philosophy or theology -- the sort who skims a book in order to have more time to mention it while discussing politics over a couple of beers. When a bibliography lists the works of an author only in translation, it implies that the reader would not or could not make use of the author's works in their original language. In other words, it assumes that scholars will probably not find the bibliography (implied: the dictionary) valuable.
- Section II, Recent Commentaries and Elaborations on Perennial Themes. This section could also be entitled, "Books I Like That You Should Consider Reading." The books in this section are mostly by Thomists from 1940 onward (e.g., Maritian, Lonergan, Giles Emery), along with personalists (e.g., Wojtyla, von Hildebrand), and a handful of others who, for some reason, count as the lucky few (e.g., Henri de Lubac, John Milbank). There is at least one notable exception to what I have said. This section, as a good dictionary shouldn't, stretches the meaning of a term. How could the works of John [Poinsot] of St. Thomas (included here) count as "contemporary" and on perennial themes, but the works of Friedrich Nietzsche (included below) counted as either not contemporary or not on perennial themes? A single explanation suggests itself: Carlson misuses words to fit his own purposes: he includes John of St. Thomas in Section II because he agrees with that way of thinking, while he sticks Nietzsche in Section III because the German fellow is disagreeable. Thus, a brief dictionary of Carlson's language would be as follows. "Perennial theme" = "Whatever Carlson thinks is true" = an amalgam of Poinsotian Thomism mixed with personalism and other contemporary (mostly-) Catholic thought for good measure.
- Section III, Works by Other Authors Cited in This Dictionary. One of the chief jobs of a good dictionary is to make clear distinctions. If a dictionary of flora and fauna does not clarify the difference between an apple and an Adam's apple, then it is better used to prop up my desk rather than to raise my understanding. In this case, Carlson makes a division in his bibliography that manifests what books are worthwhile in his judgment. They are, in descending order: 1st, the works of Thomas in English. 2nd, the works of people who agree with or expound on Thomas, or who are pretty much good chaps whose books are still in print. 3rd, everyone else. Since they are neither contemporary nor Thomists, they count as "other." This implies they are lesser (otherwise, why not include studies on them in the Section II?). Although Carlson gestures toward Albert the Great, Aristotle, Augustine, Cicero, Plato, Scotus, and Suarez, among others, his entries rely far more on the authors in Section II of his bibliography than the authors in Section III.
My next post on this book will examine the dictionary entries themselves.
Thursday, December 15, 2011
A Ramble on Ockham, Scholarship, and Other Matters
Now, Maurer's book isn't a replacement for or a competitor to Marilyn Adams' William Ockham, which must be one of the most impressive books on mediaeval philosophy of the last fifty years. At almost 1,400 pages, Adams' book is more than twice the length of Maurer's; it's enormously detailed and enormously comprehensive; it treats a vast range of arguments in precise detail, not only Ockham's, but those of many of Ockham's interlocutors and influences, including Aquinas, Henry of Ghent, Scotus, Chatton, Aureol, etc. Anyone who wants a good introduction to post-Thomistic philosophy and doesn't need it gentle would do well to study Adams' book carefully, together with John Wippel's The Metaphysical Thought of Godfrey of Fontaines: A Study in Late Thirteenth-Century Philosophy. (By the way, as long as I'm throwing out generalized recommendations, if you'd like to round out your education, gentle reader, you should pair these books with John F. Quinn's massive The Historical Constitution of Bonaventure's Philosophy, which is however unfortunately very difficult to obtain. I don't have a copy, but I worked my way through it while writing the old dissertation.)
There are, however, problems with Adams' book. For one thing, did I mention that it's freakin' huge? It takes some real stamina. I'll admit that I didn't finish it. When I was taking Timothy Noone's course on Ockham in grad school I started reading it, but about two-thirds in to the book and the semester, I stopped. It's not just the size, but the size combined with the presentation. Adams writes the kind of anglo-analytic scholastic stuff that I've never found very palatable, medieval arguments presented with a heavy 20th century veneer: lists of numbered propositions and labelled arguments, variables with subscripts and superscripts, occasional modern notation, etc. This is not necessarily bad in principle: Scotus himself used some of these techniques (he and Ockham have good claims to be the first real anglo-analytic philosophers, if the term implies an English-speaking origin, preoccupation with logic, linguistic analysis, a highly compressed (for Scotus) or lucid (for Ockham) style as opposed to a florid or elaborate one (like Henry's or Bonaventure's)), apparently for his own convenience, since it does not make him easier to read. But Adams uses them, presumably, for the convenience of and to appeal to a mid-20th-century mainstream analytic audience. This limits the book in some ways, since for a broader audience, continentals or people like me who are actually more familiar with the scholastic tradition than the 20th-century one, understanding Ockham through Adams sometimes means having to mentally re-translate her modernizations back into something like what Ockham might have really said. It's a little like a Latin trying to read Aristotle as translated and commented on by the Arabs - much better than nothing, for sure, but of course you'd rather have it straight from the Greek. And it's a real question whether the mainstream analytic tradition, not used to thinking in medieval patterns, will care enough about any scholastic thinker to master a book like Adams'. I'm afraid the whole Adams-Stump-Kretzmann-Kenny etc. project of dragging medieval philosophy into the mid-20th-century has been more or less a failure, given the fact that contemporary philosophy has moved on without really assimilating their work, making their books targeted at an audience that is fast ceasing to exist and so dated in a way that many books by the likes of Gilson or Maritain or Yves Simon aren't.
In any case, I was talking about Maurer. His book on Ockham may be no substitute for Adams', but in many ways I'm liking it better. It's extremely well written, very clear and even enjoyable. There's a huge amount of erudition behind it - Maurer has clearly mastered the corpus of Ockham's writings and the secondary literature - but I find the presentation clean, uncluttered, and very intelligible. Maurer's writing in English but he presents Ockham as a medieval, not as a modern anglo-philosopher in disguise. He's light on his feet, which is a pleasing contrast to some other scholars whose projects are similar. I'm thinking for instance of Wippel, whom respect and filial piety (he was one of my teachers and on my dissertation committee) forbid me to criticize too harshly. His (fairly few) books are magisterial and indispensable. But The Metaphysical Thought of Thomas Aquinas: From Finite Being to Uncreated Being is not exactly fun to read.
Maurer is not writing a really comprehensive survey, but as his title indicates, is seeking to understand the various facets of Ockham's thought as reflected in his few basic principles. The first part of the book treats these principles in themselves, with two long chapters on "Logic and Reality" and "Philosophy and Theology" which provide a very good summation of the central stances of Ockhamism. The second and third parts are about the application of these principles to God and Creatures respectively. Maurer presents Ockham without espousing Ockhamism, as he indicates in his introduction, but extremely fairly and straightforwardly, with only the very occasional criticism or caveat.
I'll post a longish excerpt soon, but right now I want to notice something Maurer says in the prefatory blurb right at the beginning of the book:
Martin Heidegger once declared, "Every thinker thinks but one single thought." The original and focal point of Ockham's thought is the singular or individual thing (res singularis), as common nature (natura communis) is the central conception of Scotism and the act of existing (esse) is of Thomism. With Ockham the traditional conjugations of being come to signify the thing itself in its ineluctable unity.
With all due respect to Heidegger, I'm not so sure about this. No doubt some thinkers can be reduced to one single central thought, but I have my doubts about both Aquinas and Scotus. Certainly some modern Thomists have acted as though all of Thomism depended on his doctrine of esse, but there's a lot more to Thomas himself than that. In fact when I think of Thomas what primarily strikes me is a certain kind of order which sets him apart from his competitors (recall his remarks about order in the first chapter of Summa contra gentiles). St Bonaventure is another extremely orderly thinker, but Bonaventure's sense of order is artistic and graceful, where Thomas' is schematic and pedagogical. Not for nothing is Thomas the patron of teachers. He excels at being able to talk intelligently about everything, and above all to produce the sense that everything fits. This is why Thomism gets compared to a Gothic cathedral. It's huge, it's varied, the variety is subordinated to a single great design. On the other hand the range of issues that Scotus or Bonaventure deal with is more restricted. Bonaventureanism is less like a cathedral and more like a fantastically illuminated manuscript.
It's more fair, however, to say that esse is an "original and focal point" for Thomas than it is to say that the common nature is for Scotus. That just strikes me as wrong. Scotus' mind does not evince either Bonaventurean or Thomistic order: opening his books frequently produces the sensation of falling into a profound but chaotic abyss of insight. His method is not systematic and his thought is not easily systematizable. Vos' book The Philosophy of John Duns Scotus tries to reduce it to some semblance of order by orienting his achievement around some central conceptual accomplishments, like synchronic contingency, but with in my opinion very limited success. The common nature is, of course, very important for Scotus, but the notion of the irreducible individual is no less so - in fact the Scotist insistence on the primacy of the individual is in my opinion one of its great strengths over Thomism. Haecceities, the formal distinction, intrinsic modes, essentially ordered causes, and many other distinctively Scotist ideas work together in a complex and delicate balance in which no one of them takes priority over the others and all are fitted into a more general Aristotelean substrate from which they only emerge as needed in the particular instance. There are certain basic Thomistic notions which Aquinas deploys over and over again in a hundred contexts with almost monotonous regularity - esse, the real distinction of being and essence, immateriality or separability from matter, etc. - in a way that Scotus doesn't. If Thomas' thought is like a cathedral, Scotus' is like a piece of enormously complex polyphony sung over a drone of Aristotelianism and a cantus firmus of revelation. You can't grasp it all at once because it's essentially developmental and progressive. You can't reduce it to a leitmotif because the various melodic themes arise when needed by the music as a whole in one or another voice, and the importance is less in any particular voice or theme than in their fugal interplay. What's happening now depends on what happened in the debate a moment ago more than on the demands of some architectonic conceptual structure.
All this rhapsodizing is, of course, taking us away from Ockham again. For Ockham I do think it's fair to say, as our own Ockham said the other day, "It seems Ockham took a handful [of] basic and already established principles then applied them relentlessly and consistently in places they had never been applied before." But if Ockham's strength is to show what happens when you join genius and fearless persistence to such a technique, damn the consequences, it would be a mistake to assume that other thinkers are trying less successfully to do the same thing.
As I noted, in a while I'll post a lengthy excerpt from Maurer's book. I may also say something soon about the other book I bought at the same time and am reading simultaneously with it, Sokolowski's Phenomenology of the Human Person, which I'm enjoying very much.
Monday, November 14, 2011
Thomas Aquinas on Kinds of Sleep
Now is the hour for us to rise from sleep.
Quod quidem intelligendum est non de somno naturae, qui quandoque dicitur mors, secundum illud I Thess. IV, 12: nolumus vos ignorare de dormientibus, quandoque autem est quies animalium virtutum, secundum illud Io. XI, v. 12: si dormit, salvus erit. Nec enim intelligendum est de somno gratiae, qui quandoque dicitur quies aeternae gloriae, secundum illud Ps. IV, 9: in pace in idipsum, etc., quandoque autem est quies contemplationis etiam in hac vita. Cant. V, 2: ego dormio, et cor meum vigilat. Sed intelligitur de somno culpae, secundum illud Eph. V, 14: exurge, qui dormis, et exurge a mortuis, etc., vel etiam negligentiae, secundum illud Prov. c. VI, 9: usquequo, piger, dormies? Tempus ergo est surgendi a somno culpae per poenitentiam Ps. CXXVI, 2: surgite, postquam sederitis, etc., a somno vero negligentiae per sollicitudinem bene operandi Is. XXI, 5: surgite, principes, accipite clypeum. Eccli. XXXII, 15: hora surgendi non te tristet. Deinde, cum dicit nunc enim, etc., assignat rationem eius quod dixerat, dicens nunc enim propior est salus nostra, quam cum credidimus. Quod quidem secundum intentionem apostoli intelligitur de salute vitae aeternae, de qua dicitur Is. LI, 8: salus autem mea in sempiternum erit.
This certainly is not [said of] the sleep of nature, which in some places is called death, as in 1 Thess 4:12: "we do not wish you to be ignorant of those who have fallen asleep," but which in other places is the sleep of animal powers, as in John 11:12, "if he sleeps, he will be well." Nor is it to be understood [to speak] about the sleep of grace, which in some places is the of eternal glory, as in Ps 4:9: "in peace, in the selfsame I will sleep," but which is sometimes the rest of contemplation even in this life, as in Song of Songs 5:2: "I sleep, but my heart keeps vigil."
But it is to be understood [to speak] about the sleep of sin, as in Eph 5:14: "arise, sleepers, and arise from the dead, and Christ will enlighten you," or also [the sleep] of negligence, as in Prov. 6:9, "How long will you sleep, O sluggard?" Therefore the time for rising from the sleep of sin is through penitence: Ps 126:2, "Rise after you have sat down," but from the sleep of negligence, through solicitude to good works: Is 21:5, "Rise princes, and take up the shield"; Ecclus 32:15, "at the hour of rising be not sad." Afterwards, when he says, "for now is the day of your salvation," he assigns his reason that he said it, saying, "for now our salvation is nearer than when we believed." Here indeed according to the intention of the apostle to be understood to speak of the salvation of eternal life, of which it is said in Is 51:8: "for my salvation will be unto eternity."Here Thomas delineates six types of sleep:
(1) The sleep of nature, or death
(2) The sleep of vital powers
(3) The sleep of eternal glory
(4) The sleep of contemplation in this life
(5) The sleep of sin
(6) The sleep of negligence.
For each type of sleep, he provides a corresponding Scriptural reference, showing that there is Biblical precedent for the extended use of the term. It seems that sleep in itself signifies a lack or a rest from something. Some thoughts:
1. The sleep of nature is cessation of the natural operation of living as a thing composed of form and matter. Scientists now debate the precise time of death. Part of the difficulty is that many do not acknowledge a spiritual soul, so they do not identify death with the separation of the soul and body. But this definition only points to the difficulty of determining when that separation takes place. If one holds to a plurality of forms, the question would then be multifold: what indicates that the rational soul has separated from the body? Is that separation the definition of "human" death if a lower form remains?
2. The sleep of vital powers is rest from the waking operations of the animal soul, such as sensing. This is ordinarily what we would call "sleep."
3. The sleep of eternal glory is rest from the operation of living in this life, which is not properly an operation but a combination of them; or we could say it is a rest from life in the fallen world. This is more properly said to be a waking state, because in eternal glory the person and his faculties is most fully actualized.
4. The sleep of contemplation in this life is rest from all activities that are contrary to contemplation. Some of the mystics who experienced extraordinary graces in prayer including St. John of the Cross and St. Teresa of Avila, speak about how there are some moments of contemplation in which the faculties are suspended. In this life, the body, affected by original sin, is a hindrance to the quies contemplationis. Indirectly, of course, the body helps a person begin a life of contemplation because one learns through the senses. In the next life, however, the resurrected body enjoys, in its own mode, the contemplation of the soul which is the beatific vision.
5. The sleep of sin is the cessation of living in a state of grace. From this sleep some can wake by their own power, or ordinary grace: the remedy of venial sin found in prayers, sacrifices, and so on. But others cannot wake from this sleep without an extraordinary grace: to go from the state of mortal sin to that of grace is greater than the creation of the universe out of nothing.
6. The sleep of negligence is rest from doing the good one ought to do. We can identify this with sloth.
Sleep: deaths ally, oblivion of tears
Silence of passions, balm of angry sore
Suspense of loves, security of fears,
Wrath's lenitive, heart's ease, storm's calmest shore
Sense's and soul's reprieval from all cumbers,
Benumbing sense of ill with quiet slumbers.
---St. Robert Southwell, St. Peter's Complaynt
Thursday, April 7, 2011
"Inspired Metaphysics"
Much of continental "post-modern" philosophy stands in great need of being disabused of its prejudiced notion that ancient and medieval philosophy is simply onto-theology that seeks only to valorize "presence" by suppressing absence and alterity, all in order to secure a foundation of mastery and control over the totality of the contexts in which human life is lived
.... Inspired Metaphysics serves as a valuable introduction not only to the thought of Siewerth in particular, but also to the hermeneutic manner of reading both the Thomistic and continental traditions in general. Not the least of the book's many merits is its exposition of the unfortunate manner in which Siewerth himself, seeking to distinguish Thomistic metaphysics from that which Heidgger took to be onto-theology, failed in hermeneutical charity by being content to demonize Scotistic metaphysics as the source of Western philosophy's alleged forgetfulness of Being. In like manner, as Wiercinski points out, much of contemporary Catholic theology likewise fails hermeneutically by uncritically accepting Heidegger's equation of metaphysics with onto-theology and an alleged valorization of "presence", a term that is in fact highly equivocal and that need not at all be understood as Heidegger himself understood it. Contemporary Catholic theology therefore needs to find its own way back to a hermeneutically sensitive appropriation of Scholastic thought, which would involve first, the effort to recognize Thomism and Scotism as mutually complementary, rather than mutually exclusive, manners of philosophical and theological thinking, and second, the effort to recognize the continuity as well as the discontinuity that obtains between the Scholastic and continental traditions.... The goal of Inspired Metaphysics is precisely to make philosopher and theologian alike better capable of engaging in the ongoing conversation that ought never to cease both within and between the Scholastic and continental traditions.
Not the least of Wiercinski's contributions to the facilitating of dialogue both between philosophy and theology and between the medieval and continental traditions is his recognition of the baneful effect of Siewerth's reductive and misleading critique of the ontology of Duns Scotus as thought that valorizes conceptually unitary "presence" at the expense of ontological difference and that therefore initiates Western philosophy's forgetfulness of Being. Wiercinski accomplishes for Scotus what Ferdinand Alquie accomplishes for Descartes: a "metaphysical rehabilitation" that shows that Scotus and Thomas can be related to one another in a complementary rather than in a reductively oppositional and antagonistic manner. Wiercinski indicates the possibilities for the renewal of ontology in a post-Heideggerian age that could arise starting with a dialogical reading of the Thomistic and Scotistic metaphysical traditions.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Analytic Appropriations of Univocity
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Scotus on the Incarnation
"The Incarnation of God did not happen in Bethlehem 2000 years ago. That is just when we started taking it seriously. The incarnation actually happened 14.5 billion years ago with a moment that we now call "The Big Bang." That is when God actually decided to materializeand to self expose."
I know it is no longer words, doctrines, and mental belief systems that can or will reveal the fullness of this Cosmic Christ. This earth indeed is the very Body of God, and it is from this body that we are born, live, suffer, and resurrect to eternal life. Either all is God's Great Project, or we may rightly wonder whether anything is God's Great Project. One wonders if we humans will be the last to accept this."
Christ, for John Duns Scotus (1265/66-1308) was the very first idea in the mind of God, and God has never stopped thinking, dreaming, and creating the Christ. "The immense diversity and pluriformity of this creation more perfectly represents God than any one creature alone or by itself," adds Thomas Aquinas (1224-1274) in his Summa Theologica(47:1).
God remains in immediate sustaining attentiveness to everything that exists, precisely in its 'thisness.'" -- John Duns Scotus
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Words to Live By: Thomas Aquinas
Further, we should not only listen to one person but to many people, because as the Apostle says: there are a variety of graces. One man is not accomplished in all things. Blessed Gregory knew morals the best, blessed Augustine solved questions [the best], and blessed Ambrose allegorized the best. What you do not learn from one, you learn from another; thus in Ecclesiasticus: Stand in the midst of the wise elders, and join yourself from your heart to their wisdom, that you may listen to the discourse of God. What one does not tell you, another does. I am not saying that I believe that it is useful for those who are beginning to first listen to any sort of knowledge for the sake of listening to different people, but they ought to listen to one person until they become well versed, and when they have become well versed, then they should listen to different people so that they might be able to pick flowers from different opinions, in other words, those things which are helpful.
--Sermon, "Puer Iesus", 3.6
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Scotus and Aquinas on the Possibility of Real Relations between God and Creature
In Asello's recent post, a commenter and I discussed a comment made in the post noting the common opinion among the scholastics that there was no real relation between God and creatures, although there are real relations of creatures to God. The scholastics of course are willing to admit relations of reason, such as calling God "lord", but these are, or were, generally considered to be relations of reason. So taking Scotus and Aquinas, the two we discuss most on this blog, I examined their texts and found some germane remarks. Interestingly, their respective approaches on the matter reveal something of their general methodologies. Scotus relies on metaphysical arguments, here primarily on the nature of necessity, while Aquinas spends a great deal of time discussing physics. The sense of 'relation' here is undoubtedly the Aristotelian one, or at least is of Aristotelian origin; Scotus at one point in his discussion says that the only kind of relation that God could have to a creature is that from the third kind of relation, of measure to measured. One could, I suppose, simply criticize the scholastics as being too Aristotelian, as did then Cardinal Ratzinger in his Intro to Christianity where he says the scholastics failed by not seeing that human beings are essentially relational beings, or perhaps argue that since Christians already except one special case of non-Aristotelian relations, the Trinitarian persons, why not posit another kind of non-Aristotelian relation to take care of God's relation to creation? But this is not the path followed by the subtle and angelic doctors.
Duns Scotus, Reportatio I-A d. 30 q. 2 (ed. and transl. Wolter-Bychkov 2, 259-60):
Therefore, I say that there is no real relation to the creature in God. This is clear, first of all, from the perfection of his necessitu. Indeed, something that possesses perfect necessity cannot, on account of something other than itself, be otherwise [than it is], no matter whether one argues by assuming the possible or the impossible. But God is a perfectly necesssary being. Therefore, he cannot be altered, nor changed, nor be otherwise [than he is] except through [the agency of] a greater necessity, which should not be posited. However, if he were related really to creatrues outside [himself], then he would be come different [from what he is], once the creature has been posited; therefore, etc.
Also, this is confirmed [in the following way]: no matter how often the philosophers postulated that there are other necessary [things] apart from God, they always postulated them to be less necessary than God, because they stated that they were somehow dependent on him, and not vice versa. However, a gerater necessituy cannot be altered by a lesser one, as has been said, nor become different [from what it is]. This is also clear from [the words of] Augustine, Bk. XI of The City of God, chapter 10.
The second demonstration is from the perfect simplicity of God, as a result of which he ‘is what he has.’ [Assuming this,] if some real relations to creatures existed in God, they would be really identical with the divine essence. But a real relation to [something] outside necessarily co-requires an external term; therefore, that which is perfectly identical with the divine essence would require something external, and consequently the divine essence would not be necessary to the highest degree, because it would make a difference to it whether the creature has been posited or not. Therefore, if the creature were eliminated, [God] would cease to be [what he is, i.e.,] God.”
Thomas de Aquino, De potentia Dei q.7 a.10 (ed. Marietti)
“I respond: it should be said that relations, which are said from God to a creature, are not really in him. For the understanding of which it must be known that, since a real relation consists in the order of one thing to another thing, as it was said; in those things only a mutual real relation is found in which from each side there is the same principle of order of one to another: which indeed is found in all relations consequent on quantity. For since the principle/notion[ratio] of quantity is abstracted from all sensible [things], quantity is of the same kind[ratio] in all natural bodies. And for the same reason by which one having quantity is really referred to another, also the other to it. [...] God however does not act through a mediate action, which is understood as proceeding from God, and terminated in a creature: but his action is his substance, and whatever is in him is entirely outside the genus of created being, by which a creature is referred to God. Nor again, does some good accrue to the creator from the production of a creature, whence his action is maximally free as Avicenna says. It is clear also that he is not moved to this that he acts, but without all change he makes changeable things. Whence it is granted that in him there is not some real relation to a creature, although there is a relation of a creature to him, just as effect to cause.”Thursday, September 16, 2010
The Object of Hope in Thomas and Scotus
Explaining himself in further detail in his Disputed Questions on Hope, Thomas says that there are two objects (material and formal) to both hope and faith. Quoting Thomas:
The hope of attaining eternal life has two objects, namely eternal life itself, which someone hopes, and the divine help, by which (quo) he hopes; just as even faith has two objects, namely the thing which he believes and the first truth to which it [faith] corresponds.
In this case, the formal object of hope is divine help and the formal object of faith is first truth, that is, God as first truth speaking.The material object of hope can be subdivided: primarily, it consists in eternal life for oneself; secondarily, eternal life for others. Now eternal life is one's attainment of God.
Similarly, Thomas distinguishes between the material object of hope (the attainment of God) and the material object of charity (God in Himself as supremely good). The scholar says, "Thomas distinguishes hope from charity without reference to hope's formal object."
Now, in order for Thomas' later statement to be consistent with his earlier statement, he must say that the attainment of God is the same as God understood under a particular ratio; in this case, one might say, God as attainable. But it does not seem that God as attainable can be man's primary object of hope. On the one hand, God is the same as eternal life: "And this is eternal life, to know you, the only true God." On the other hand, we can distinguish between the attainment of God with God in Himself, for it is one thing to will to be united with Him as He is with no mediating creature, and it is another to will God in Himself to be what He is. In other words, there are two distinct objects of the will: God in Himself and union with God in Himself. And because there are two objects, there must be a distinction between things. From this it follows that man has two different objects to his hope: one is for God in Himself, another for the attainment of God. Clearly eternal life (or attainment of God) as an object of hope must be subordinated to God in Himself, the supreme Good, who is the primary object of hope. Therefore, there does not seem to be a real distinction between the material object of hope and the material object of charity, for both are God in Himself.
Even if the reasoning above is invalid, there still remains a problem with St. Thomas' position that there is a difference between the material objects of hope and charity. The scholar notes that Scotus
"considers the suggestion that hope has as its object the divine goodness for oneself, whereas charity has its object the divine goodness in itself. He rejects this view because, 'that condition or circumstance "to whom" is not a per se condition of the object, but rather such a condition can be added onto the object with the same formal nature of the object remaining.'"
In other words, God considered as "attainable" is not part of God's formality, it is a part of man's relation to God. God has no relation with creatures, but they have a relation to Him.
"The reason why such a circumstance does not partake of the object's formal character is that this circumstance merely belongs to the order of reason and does not really exist in the object, which is God. A being of reason does not make a formal difference in the object. The reason why faith, hope, and charity are not differentiated by their objects' formal ratio is that no real or formal distinction in God explains their difference."
Furthermore, we must insist that a circumstance does not specify a being; neither does it individuate a being. Here I can quote the philosophy thesis of another scholar (who will remain anonymous until he reveals himself):
Scotus lists five possibilities which have been raised by previous thinkers [to explain individuation]: the nature is individuated through 1) an aggregation of accidents, 2)quantity, 3) matter, 4) actual existence, or 5) the relation of the individual to its efficient cause.
Diverse as they are, Scotus finds that the proposed principles all have something in common: they are accidental to the thing they are supposed to individuate. Each one adds something extrinsic to the nature in the form of an accident. Because of this he can argue against all of them as a group.
An aggregate of accidents, or of substance together with accidents, is not a per se being but an accidental being, and as such is not the primary individual. The individual substance “is prior by nature to every accident,” therefore the accidental cannot provide unity for the substantial or determine it;[3] rather substance is what unifies its accidents and provides the ground for them. The aggregate of accidents, like any individual accident, is posterior to the substance it belongs to. Matter[4] and quantity in a thing fluctuate, are replaced or augmented, come and go, while the this they belong to endures; nor are they general enough to individuate everything.[5] Existence belongs to everything actual indifferently, regardless of whether it is this or that, and is determined by rather than determines this. Relation also depends on substance, which is not relative, but absolute.[6] Finally, each of these prospective individuators violates category boundaries.
When I ask why Mittens is not the same as Whiskers, even though both are cats, I’m looking for a difference within “cat,” not outside of it, just as someone asking about the difference between dogs and cats wants a difference falling within the genus “mammal.” But no accident is a difference within that to which it is accidental; accidents rather are extrinsic and posterior. If cats belong to the category of substance, nothing regarding its catness will be altered or differentiated in any given cat by the addition of some accident or property from another category; rather, “that subject will remain universal and will not become any more individualized after the [added] determination than before.”[7]
[3] “Scotus argues that the individuation of something belonging to one of Aristotle’s categories . . . cannot be explained by something existing in another of the categories.” Richard Cross, Duns Scotus (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999), 142.
[4] Matter is not an accident in the same sense as quantity, etc. Matter is included in the quiddity, but only in general. Both humanity and Socrates must have matter to exist—-humanity is such-and-such a form in such-and-such a material—-but it is not any more essential that Socrates be made up of this particular bit of matter than it is that the nature humanity exist in some particular matter. Indeed his eating, breathing, and elimination show that there is a constant exchange of matter in Socrates without disrupting his continuity as this man. See Scotus, Metaphysics, VII.16.40.
[5] “In the case of physical entities, matter would be a candidate for the principle of individuation, but it would never do in the case of nonphysical entities.” Jorge Gracia, “The Problem of Individuation,” in Individuation in Scholasticism: The Later Middle Ages and the Counter-Reformation, 1150-1650, ed. Gracia (New York: State University of New York Press, 1994), 3. Although at this point Scotus is technically only asking about the individuation of material things, one would like to produce a theory which can expand to become more general.
[6] Scotus, Meta., 190-197.
[7] Ibid., 199.
What is important for my analysis is that 1) Thomas' understanding of the primary object of hope seems inadequate in light of his own principles, 2) Scotus' critique is more encompassing — not only does he show that Thomas' distinction between the theological virtues is problematic, he shows that the deeper problem is Thomas' explanation of how objects of the will are specified. Interestingly, one of the major points of dispute among modern Thomistic moral theologians, a topic which has taken up reams of paper, is how objects of the will are specified according to St. Thomas.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Distance from God and Ourselves
Friday, May 14, 2010
God and Other Intelligent Designers
Here I would like to discuss whether or not J. R. R. Tolkien's account of Creation in the first chapter of his Silmarilion is compatible with St. Thomas' in ST I, q. 65, aa. 3-4. This will help to elucidate certain principles about the work of God and creatures in the making of things.
First, we can establish the conclusions of St. Thomas in these articles.
Art. 3
1. Respondeo “All bodies were created immediately by God [ex nihilo].”
2. No creature can create anything from nothing; angels did not create anything in the strict sense.
Art. 4
3. Respondeo: Matter obeys God’s bidding as its only proper cause.
4. “The corporeal forms that bodies had when first produced came immediately from God.”
5. “Even corporeal forms are derived from spiritual substances, not as emanating from them, but by movement (as the term of their movement).”
6. R. Obj. 2. Therefore, if things have their forms from angels through movement, it is because the idea of the thing was first in God, then in angels, and finally implanted in corporeal things like a seed.
Second, we can see if these conclusions are respected at least implicitly in Tolkien’s text, Ainulindale.
(I assume the identity of Illuvatar with God and the Ainur with angels.)
In regard to the first conclusion, “All bodies were created immediately by God [ex nihilo].” :
Illuvatar said, “EA! Let these things be! And I will send into the void the Flame Imperishable, and it shall be at the heart of the World and the World shall Be.” (p.9)
The second conclusion, that no creature can create anything from nothing; angels did not create anything, is respected because only Illuvatar made the world be, and “He made first the Ainur, the Holy Ones, that were the offspring of his thought” that is, the angels. (p.1)
The third and fourth conclusions:
Matter alone obeys God’s bidding as its proper cause.
“The corporeal forms that bodies had when first produced came immediately from God.”
Illuvatar said to the Ainur, “I know the desire of your minds that what ye have seen may verily be, not only in your thought, but even as ye yourselves are, but other. Therefore I say EA! Let these things be!” (p.9)
Comments: The Ainur were powerless to cause their thoughts to have real, as opposed to merely mental, existence; only Illuvatar could order formalized matter to come into being. These new things came immediately from Him as their primary efficient cause. They also came from Him directly as their formal cause, because the Ainur affected the forms only by “adorning” the theme already set for them by Illuvatar (cf. next section).
The fifth conclusion, “Even corporeal forms are derived from spiritual substances, not as emanating from them, but by movement (as the term of their movement).”:
“Of the theme that I have declared to you, I will now that ye make in harmony together a Great Music…ye shall show forth your powers in adorning this theme, each with his own thoughts and devices, if he will.” (p.1)
Comments: The forms of things are a product of the movement of the Ainur’s thoughts and will, an exercise of their power, not emanations of their substance.
The sixth conclusion, "if things have their forms from angels through movement, it is because the idea of the thing was first in God, then in angels, and finally implanted in corporeal things like a seed.":
“And [Illuvatar] spoke to them, propounding to them themes of music; and they sang before him.” (p.1) Illuvatar said to the Ainur, “Behold your music! This is your minstrelsy; and each of you shall find contained herein, amid the design that I set before you, all those things which it may seem that he himself devised or added.” (p.6)
Comments: The content of the Ainur’s song is their development of Illuvatar’s theme: their originality is only secondary and subordinate. Complete originality, apart from the theme of Illuvatar, is portrayed as corruption: “It came into the heart of Melkor to interweave matters of his own imagining that were not in accord with the theme of Illuvatar…some of these thoughts he now wove into his music, and straight-way discord arose about him.” (p.4) This implies that apart from Illuvatar’s theme there is no harmony, because He is the source of harmony. Thus, the forms of things were passed from Illuvatar to the Ainur and finally into reality; at each stage, Illuvatar was the primary mover.
In sum: yes, Tolkein's account of creation in the Silmarilion, at lest the part we discussed here, seems compatible with Thomas' account in ST I, q. 65, aa. 3-4