Sunday, April 29, 2012

St. Josemaria Escriva's Reaction to Slander



Initially he wouldn't hear of it. His followers would send him notes about rumors they were hearing, grumblings from those who did not understand his methods and aims. In response, he tore up the notes and threw them away. But as time went on, the talk became harder to ignore. So St. Josemaría sent the notes to his bishop, having no fear because he knew the accusations against him were false. He directly told his bishop of the slander but did not judge anyone’s motives or complain about them. He was concerned with the good of the apostolate and those who followed him. In order to stem the tide of rumors and innuendo, his confessor suggested that he talk directly with another priest, Fr. Carillo, S.J., who had very likely been spreading them.

“He did so. He told Father Carillo of the rumors being attributed to him, and explained to the best of his ability the work being done with students . . . And then he tactfully gave the priest a way to save face. He proposed an agreement: if either of them heard any pejorative criticism in the future [about their respective apostolates] he would tell the other as soon as possible” (De Prada, Founder of Opus Dei vol. II, 318).

The passionate, Spanish saint would then repeat a verse to himself: “Many waters cannot quench love” (Song of Songs 8:7). This meant two things for him: “One, that the multitude of my past sins cannot separate me from the Love of my God; and the other, that the waters of the persecution we are now undergoing will not impede the apostolate” (ibid., 322). Here is a good summary of his manner.
Father Josemaría’s reaction to the persecution was both very human and deeply supernatural. At first he refused to believe people do such evil things. Later, when forced to acknowledge the facts, he tried to put a good face on their intentions. (“I know his intention isn’t bad,” he said of one of the rumormongers, “but he doesn’t understand anything about our spirit, and he gets everything confused and mixed up.”) And as a last resort, in the face of irrefutable evidence, he could only forgive and forget. “Although I don’t want to mention this,” he writes, “I will just say that it is hard to believe in the good faith of those who systematically spread calumnies. I forgive them with all my heart.”

One day he ran into Fr. Carillo, the one whose loose tongue instigated much suffering.
With no rancor and perfect naturalness he shook Father Carillo’s hand and said, “I’m pleased to see you, Father. God bless you!” Aware that Father Carillo, instead of keeping their pact to communicate criticisms, was going around calling him “either crazy or evil,” he added, “Don’t you remember our gentleman’s agreement?”
“I already spoke about all that last night, at nine, with the vicar general,” Father Carillo answered hurriedly, breaking away.
On the next day the founder wrote in his journal:
Nov. 15 . . . In the afternoon, I found myself experiencing a deep interior joy on account of that tribulation. And I feel a greater love for the blessed Society of Jesus, and sympathy and even affection for the religious causing this whole mess. Besides, I understand that he is a very likeable man, and certainly a very good person. May God bless and prosper him! (Ibid., 322-3).

Nearly a year later, the slander continued, this time from different quarters. Opus Dei was accused of being “Masonic”, “devilish”, “demented”, etc. In response, Josemaría wrote a letter to his early community:
            My dear children:

The Lord has permitted that people, very dear to my heart, are slandering us and doing us harm. Should you also find yourselves affected by the storm of persecution—a divine seal authenticating supernatural undertakings—I give you these instructions, that are so in keeping with the spirit of Opus Dei:
(1)   Always heed the directives of the ecclesiastical authority, i.e., the archbishop and his vicar general;
(2)   Never say anything to anyone outside the house about such events, if they take place;
(3)   Be very charitable, never on any pretext saying one word against the persecutors;
(4)   Much joy and much peace;
(5)   Much prayer, much study, and many small mortifications.

Everything is going very well. I didn’t know that the Lord love us this much. . .  (ibid., 343-4).

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

John Punch on the Eternal Being of Creatures

In my efforts to determine the influence, if any, of Peter Thomae's questions on intelligible being, I have begun leafing through the voluminous pages of the baroque Scotists.  In this post I am just going to list a series of conclusions that the Irishman Punch defends (for bio, see the 'Franciscan authors' website).

Ioannes Poncius, Cursus philosophiae, disp. 2 q. 5 (p. 902ff.)

'De esse creaturarum ab aeterno'

Conclusio I: Creatures have no real being simpliciter from eternity.

Conclusio II: All creatures have some being from eternity

This can scarcely be denied, because they were understood by God from eternity and they terminate the act of divine cognition; therefore they had some being according to which they terminate that cognition, whether they terminate it primarily or secondarily.

Conclusio III: That being which they had from eternity, for example a man, does not consist in extrinsic denomination taken from the omnipotence of God, nor in non-repugnance, nor in some ratio, whether real or rational or actual or aptitudinal.

This is of the Doctor [=Scotus] above, and commonly against some Thomists, who seem to say that that being is nothing other than possibile being and that that possible being comes about from  denomination taken from divine omnipotence.

Conclusio IV: That being, which creatures have from eternity, is diminished being, a quasi medium between being of reason and being simply real.

Conclusio V: That diminished being is not produced by the act of the divine intellect. [Both Petrus Thomae and William of Alnwick would agree with this].

This is against many Scotists and it seems to be against Scotus, above, but it is not, as will be proved.

It is proved first, because an object of speculative knowledge is not made by that [divine act] but rather is presupposed to it; but the knowledge, by which God knows creatures from eternity, is speculative; therefore it does not give that being to creatures according to which it knows them.

Monday, April 23, 2012

Leonine Edition of Thomas's Summa - In Print


As many are already aware, the Internet Archive has posted electronic scans of the Leonine Edition of St. Thomas's Summa theologiae (except for volume 5) and his Summa contra gentiles. A friend has prepared hardcover print editions of these volumes for his own use some months ago, but because of the Internet Archive's Terms of Service was unable to share these publicly. 

Now, however, he has happily received permission from Internet Archive to reprint these volumes publicly. For those of you who may be interested, therefore, please find below links to where the individual volumes are available. 

Summa theologiae, with the Commentary of Cajetan

Summa contra gentiles, with the Commentary of Franciscus de Sylvestris Ferrara

Sunday, April 22, 2012

Franciscus de Mayronis on Analogy

Franciscus de Mayronis, Conflatus, Prologus q. 12 (ed. Venezia f. 8rb):

Whether being is said analogically of those things of which it is said.

I say that there are four ways of speaking. Some [people] say that it is said univocally because according to one notion [rationem]. Others say that equivocally because according to diverse notions. Others say that analogically because per prius of one and per posterius of others. Others say that [it is said] ambiguously. They distinguish this, however, from analogy because a certain thing is something according to one notion is said of two, nevertheless more perfectly of one than the other. For the other kind of analogy is what is said of one proprerly and of others by attribution to it. And that is reduced to equivocal.

With this premised, it is said that every term either is equivocal or univocal because when the definitions of some things are given by immediate contraries, they are immediately contrary; but equivocals and univocals are of this kind; therefore, etc.  But this is one definition, if being is said equally or unequally of its inferiors.

To this [argument] [we answer/respondetur] with four conclusiones. The first is that being is not predicated according to more and less. The second is that it is not predicated according to prior and posterior. Third that it is not predicated inequally. Fourth that it is not predicated dissimilarly.

They prove all those conclusions with one argument:  because when there is some essential predication, it cannot be varied per posterius; but quantitity of power is attended to according to more and less, prior and posterior, equal and unequal, similar and dissimilar.  All these are posterior to being and also those of which being is predicated; therefore they do not vary the predication of being which is essential. When therefore something is said to be more perfect than being, it is by something posterior to being and consequently in that prior in which the predication of being is made, it will be uniform.

[that's all, folks. It turned out to be less exciting than I had hoped when I initially saw the question title.]

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.]
Quid: 1 Evil is something, and it is a being of reason, but not a real being. 2 Evil is not a pure negation, but the privation of a good. 3 Nothing is evil essentially, nor through participation, but through the privation of participation.
Comparatio: 15 It is impossible for a greatest evil to exist. 16 Thus there is no greatest evil. . . . 18 It is impossible for evil to be a first principle.
Causa: 23 Evil is not a cause, except per accidens. 24 Evil is a cause per accidens in two ways: as a deficient good, or doing evil aside from one’s intention.
Effectus: 30 From evil good arises, and the converse; nevertheless, occasionally and not directly.
Divisio: 31 Evil is twofold: evil in itself and partaking of evil. . . . 40 The evil of pain is opposed to the good of the creature, but the evil of fault is opposed to the uncreated good, not as it is in us, but as it is in itself.
Naturae: 43 In natural things, the evil of the agent arises from the evil of the actions, but in voluntary things the converse is the case. [e.g., a tree is called “bad” because it bears rotten fruit, but a person’s actions are called “bad” when the person who performs them is rotten morally]
Mali: 59 Evil persons are worse than beasts are like to them, for they follow passions like beasts, for they love bestial things. 60 Evil people pretending to be innocent are worse than public sinners. . . . 63 The company of the evil is to be avoided for many reasons, and the company of the good is to be desired for many reasons.

Here, then, are some thoughts on Carlson’s Words of Wisdom:
A)    His definition of “evil” is poorly worded. He begins, “Not merely the lack of good . . .”Definitions should always state positive content and not mere negations of something else. 

B)    His definition does not explain why good “ought” to be present. The other scholastic dictionaries note that it is a lack of something due to the nature of the thing

C)    His definition is breezy and thin. He divides evil into two categories (natural/physical evil and moral evil) but discusses only moral evil. And his definition of moral evil (“involving bad moral acts” [redundant] “which result specifically from defective uses of the will”) leaves out the crucial matter. Why are moral evils defective? Because, as Signoriello points out, it diverges from right reason. But, as Wuellner shows, this counts only for formally evil moral acts; other evil moral acts are such intrinsically, that is, aside from the intention of the person. Oddly, Carlson has an entry instrinsic(ally) evil that is not linked to the main entry on evil; he defines intrinsically evil according to its object, which is more precise than Wuellner’s focus on deviation from “the norms of morals . . . and eternal law”. 

D)    His historical analysis is somewhat convoluted and thereby unhelpful. He says, “Historically, questions have been raised about the ‘real existence’ of evil. Here the perennial tradition follows and clarifies the position of St. Augustine: evils are ‘real’ as privations, but they do not ‘exist’ in the sense of being themselves metaphysical subjects of being.” First, as throughout the dictionary, he does not explain which voice in the “perennial tradition” makes the claim that he does. Apparently he knows the “perennial tradition” so well that he can confidently be its voice. He then nods to St. Augustine without providing any citation, leaving one unconvinced that the Church Father would have nodded back and agreed that Carlson accurately summarized what he meant. Finally, Carlson’s understanding of “real” and “subject” is confused. Peter of Bergamo claims that, according to St. Thomas, “Evil is something, and it is a being of reason, but not a real being.” Bergamo’s citation is I, q. 48, a. 2, the relevant section of which reads, “evil is neither a being nor a good,” and Thomas gives the example of an morally evil end which deviates from the order of reason. Hence, one could conclude that evil is a being of reason (i.e., a privation of right reason and an acceptance of specious reasoning). Thus, contrary to Carlson, a privation is not “real” being. Furthermore, Carlson’s use of the word “subject” implies that being is an accident that inheres in a thing. But this is a controverted philosophical claim, one discussed in detail by the scholastics. If he wanted to follow Thomas, it would have been preferable to say, as Bergamo says, “Nothing is evil essentially, nor through participation, but through the privation of participation.” Whether or not one accepts Thomas’s understanding of participation, this at least does not presume that the “perennial tradition” agrees that a subject is “something that exercises being or existence,” itself a problematic definition (I leave it to my fellow bloggers to discuss it).

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

Samuel Johnson inaugurated the age of the English dictionary, or "word-book" as he would say, and as it becomes easier and easier to mechanically reproduce texts, there are more dictionaries now than ever. There's nothing like a computer to help the book industry, right?

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.
In sum, the bibliography gives evidence of what the title implies: this is not a scholarly dictionary. It seems to me that the best feature of Carlson's dictionary is its bibliographic introduction. This helps readers find other dictionaries that will probably be more helpful.

My next post on this book will examine the dictionary entries themselves.

Saturday, April 7, 2012

What Plato Couldn't Know About Christ

As Easter is almost upon us, this is a good time to consider what Plato predicted about Christ--and what he could not have predicted. Whether or not the early Church Fathers were correct in saying that Plato borrowed from the Hebrews, the Greek philosopher had a partial glimpse into what the prophets foretold.

First, what he did predict. Having experienced some of the depths of the wickedness of men, Plato understood that an absolutely just man would have suffered absolutely at the hands of his neighbors. He says through Glaucon:
Though he do no wrong he must have the repute of the greatest injustice, so that he may be put to the test. ... But let him hold on  his course unchangeable even unto death, seeming all his life to be unjust though being just. ... Such being his disposition the just man will have to endure the lash, the rack, chains, the branding iron in his eyes, and finally, after every extremity of suffering, he will be crucified. (Republic II, 361c-e passim)
Here Plato's  account is practically a prophecy. Although its precision is astonishing, it remains in the natural order, since inspiration is not required to see the logical conclusions of sin.

What Plato did not predict, what he could not have predicted, was that the absolutely just man would live again after his crucifixion and death. St. Justin Martyr points out that there are pagan analogues to Christ's resurrection -- Odysseus coming back from the underworld, the rising of the phoenix -- but the Greeks did not imagine that a Jewish man could physically rise from the dead by his own power (see First Apology  chs. 18-20). Once again we find that the two central mysteries of Christian faith are the Incarnation and the Resurrection of Jesus Christ.

Monday, April 2, 2012

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

On Arguments and Arguing

The other day we were talking about how so many contemporary "philosophers" do little more than present old arguments dressed up in new clothes. There is nothing wrong with this as such. Modern manufacturers, in order to sell an alarm clock, create a new plastic casing for a device that has barely been improved upon in decades.  A danger of declination in thought lurks here, however, in three stages.
1. "Philosophers", by focusing on the presentation, forget about the substance of what they are exploring.
2. In order to persuade others of the truth as they know it, they confuse philosophy with rhetoric or apologetics.
3. They end up thinking that there is little difference between reason and passion. 

About forty years ago Fulton Sheen noticed that contemporary self-professed "thinkers" typically rely less on reason and more on feeling in order to persuade others. Here is part of what he had to say.

There is one lost art that has not been definitely recovered, and without which no civilization can long survive, and that is the art of controversy. The hardest thing to find in the world today is an argument. Because so few are thinking, naturally there are found but few to argue. There is prejudice in abundance and sentiment too, for these things are born of enthusiasms without the pain of labor. Thinking, on the contrary, is a difficult task; it is the hardest work a man can do—that is perhaps why so few indulge in it. Thought-saving devices have been invented that rival laborsaving devices in their ingenuity. Fine-sounding phrases like “Life is bigger than logic” or “Progress is the spirit of the age” go rattling by us like express trains, carrying the burden of those who are too lazy to think for themselves.
Not even philosophers argue today; they only explain away. A book full of bad logic, advocating all manner of moral laxity, is not refuted by critics; it is merely called “bold, honest, and fearless.” Even those periodicals that pride themselves upon their open-mindedness on all questions are far from practicing the lost art of controversy. Their pages contain no controversies, but only presentations of points of view. These never rise to the level of abstract thought in which argument clashes with argument like steel with steel, but rather they content themselves with the personal reflections of one who has lost his faith, writing against the sanctity of marriage, and of another who has kept his faith, writing in favor of it. Both sides are shooting off firecrackers, making all the noise of an intellectual warfare and creating the illusion of conflict, but it is only a sham battle in which there are plenty of explosions but never an exploded argument.
The causes underlying this decline in the art of controversy are twofold: religious and philosophical.
Modern religion has enunciated one great and fundamental dogma that is at the basis of all the other dogmas: that religion must be freed from dogmas. Creeds and confessions of faith are no longer the fashion; religious leaders have agreed not to disagree and those beliefs for which some of our ancestors would have died they have melted into a spineless humanism. Like other Pilates they have turned their backs on the uniqueness of truth and have opened their arms wide to all the moods and fancies the hour might dictate. The passing of creeds and dogmas means the passing of controversies. Creeds and dogmas are social; prejudices are private. Believers bump into one another at a thousand different angles, but bigots keep out of one another’s way, because prejudice is anti-social. I can imagine an old-fashioned Calvinist who holds that the word “damn” has a tremendous dogmatic significance coming to intellectual blows with an old-fashioned Methodist who holds that it is only a curse word. But I cannot imagine a controversy if both decide to damn damnation, like modernists who no longer believe in hell.
The second cause, which is philosophical, bases itself on that peculiar American philosophy called pragmatism, the aim of which is to prove that all proofs are useless. ... As a result, there has sprung up a disturbing indifference to truth, and a tendency to regard the useful as the true, and the impractical as the false. The man who can make up his mind when proofs are presented to him is looked upon as a bigot, and the man who ignores proofs and the search for truth is looked upon as broad-minded and tolerant.
Another evidence of this same disrespect for rational foundations is the general readiness of the modern mind to accept a statement because of the literary way in which it is couched, or because of the popularity of the one who says it, rather than for the reasons behind the statement. In this sense, it is unfortunate that some men who think poorly can write so well. Bergson has written a philosophy grounded on the assumption that the greater comes from the less, but he has so camouflaged that intellectual monstrosity with mellifluous French that he has been credited with being a great and original thinker. To some minds, of course, the startling will always appear to be the profound. It is easier to get the attention of the press when one says, as Ibsen did, that “two and two make five,” than to be orthodox and say that two and two make four. (Read the rest here)
Sheen is firmly in the tradition of the British Catholic convert controversialists, which gained great prominence with  St. Edmund Campion and, later, manifest brilliance with Bl. John Henry Newman, and wise humor with G. K. Chesterton. These three have not been surpassed though they have often been imitated. And imitation is not bad, as we find with classical music. Just because music is old does not mean it is not worth playing again. But let's not confuse the work of philosophy with the work of apologetics. The object and method of both are different. Apologetics aims at showing the rationality of the faith (or at least the absurdity of arguments against the faith); it does this through philosophical, Scriptural, and strictly theological arguments, occasionally employing history and art as helpful resources. Philosophy, on the other hand, aims at explicating the truth about being; its tools and methods are those to which every mind naturally has access in principle. 

Apologetics is a fine and noble task. But it is not philosophy. This brings me to consider a lesser Catholic light, an apologist, one worth looking at in this context: Sir Arnold Lunn, himself a convert to the faith. His biographer notes:

Lunn always believed that, as a means of communicating the truths of Catholicism to non-Catholics, debates are incomparably more effective than lectures. Debates tend to attract the unconverted who will rarely attend the formal lecture held under Catholic auspices. ...

Lunn's motto as a debater was St. Augustine's precept, "Love men, slay errors." "Intolerance of error," Lunn pointed out, "must not be equated with intolerance of men in error." Controversy must not lead to quarrelling, and Lunn's tact and composure before this Australian university audience were highly impressive. Indeed, so poor a representative was he of the Church's alleged intolerance that Glanville Cook voiced the opinion that Lunn was not a typical Catholic. "Some men," he remarked, "are better than their creeds" - a suggestion which amused Lunn hugely and prompted the reply that "no man was good enough to live up to the Catholic code or bad enough to live down to atheism." (Read more here)
 The saints would agree with Lunn's claim -- they were no strangers to controversy when such proved more powerful and necessary than good example alone. Occasionally a person rises above the surface of his freely-chosen swim in ignorance enough to realize that certain arguments would be bad for his "intellectually" held position -- and even worse for his personal life. So he avoids arguments at all costs and protests loudly against reason. It is no surprise that pro-abortion professors are unwilling to debate pro-life students. Art has its place in converting souls, but let's not pretend that it can substitute for reason. Pro-life movies might play a role in converting some, but people convinced by movies often have few solid answers to many difficult questions. The mind has powers the passions know nothing of. Yes, we can agree that arguing is rarely helpful, but argumentation, understood as an appeal to reason, compliments a man and can even save his soul. It assumes that he has a brain and it encourages him to use it, even for his own good.

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Gilson on the Essence-Existence Distinction

I don't normally like to rag on Gilson since he was unquestionably a great scholar, but I can't pass up the following comment on De ente et essentia where Gilson gives the essence-existence distinction the status of a first principle, which, conveniently enough, can't be proven but only seen. Tough luck for those less subtle and impure minds like Scotus, Henry and the myriads who foolishly wanted proof of the disitnction.

Gilson, The Christian Philosophy of St. Thomas Aquinas, 82:


The large number of Christian philosophers and theologians, even among the so-called Thomists, who have rejected the distinction of essence and existence understood in its Thomistic meaning, clearly shows that no demonstration is here at stake. Above all, the careful procedure of Thomas Aquinas himself in handling the notion invites us to consider it less as the conclusion of some dialetical argument than as a prime source of intelligibility whose existence is known by the very light it sheds upon all the problems in metaphysics. So Thomas Aquinas will not attempt to prove it, but we shall see him progressively leading us to it, stating from the very demonstrations of the existence of God, as if it were for him a question of purifying our sight until it becomes able to stand the light of the first principle.

Monday, February 20, 2012

The Opera Theologica of John Duns Scotus

A new volume of studies on Scotus is out, part of the Quadruple congress that went on in 2008. It is edited by Richard Cross (yours truly set the text) and contains essays by several famous scholars and an edition of the anonymous De cognitione Dei. Price: 47 euros.

Here is the publishers blurb:


On 8 November 1308, the great Franciscan scholastic thinker, John Duns Scotus, died and was buried in the friars' convent in Cologne. Building upon the intellectual heritage of his Franciscan predecessors in Paris, Alexander of Hales and Bonaventure of Bagnoregio, Scotus extended this peculiarly Franciscan approach to the philosophical and theological traditions of western Christianity in new and bold directions with unique emphases and implications. These ramifications became the foundation for an important alternate current of philosophical thought known through history as Scotism. On the occasion of the 700th anniversary of the death of John Duns Scotus, international scholars from around the world gathered together to celebrate in a comprehensive manner the life, work and intellectual legacy of the Subtle Doctor. This gathering took on the form of a Quadruple Congress, comprising four conferences, treating four different themes, associated with the intellectual journey and legacy of Scotus, namely Oxford, Cologne-Bonn, Strasbourg and the Franciscan Institute at St. Bonaventure University, New York. The corresponding four volumes represent the current state of international Scotus scholarship and will remain an invaluable tool for years to come.
Part 2, offering investigations into the theology of John Duns Scotus, contains contributions by Robert Andrews, Oleg Bychkov, William J. Courtenay, Richard Cross, William A. Frank, Tobias Hofmann and Ludger Honnefelder. Robert Andrews's article provides, for the first time, a complete text of the Scotistic De cognitione dei.

Friday, February 17, 2012

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.

Thursday, February 16, 2012

Analogy

Here is Steve Long discussing his book on analogy. I wonder what the relation of all this is to Aristotelian third-mode relations. Recall that the third mode of relations are one-way. The example is that of human knowing: one can know an object and consequently there is a relation from the knowing mind to the object but not from the object to the knowing mind.  This isn't so hard to understand. My thinking about a rock isn't going to affect the rock ex natura rei but it is going to affect my thinking. So to return to Long, could one dispense with this talk of analogical analogy and univocal analogicity simply by saying that the relation of God to creatures and e converso is an Aristotelian third-mode relation? This is course what Henry and Scotus do, though they also feel the need to discuss analogy and univocity, so perhaps not.

Thursday, February 9, 2012

New From ND Press

Sorry about all the news, but here's another that really made me laugh. A dictionary of the "perennial tradition" which of course means "Thomism". But wait, there's more! Not only terms of Thomism are defined, but those movements with which Thomism has engaged.  So I suppose we will get "univocalist metaphysics" and "necrophobia at the heart of the liturgical city" as well as "Scotus".

From ND press:

New dictionary offers precise and accessible definitions of over 1,000 key philosophical terms

In his encyclical Fides et ratio (1998), John Paul II called on philosophers, "to have the courage to recover, in the flow of an enduringly valid philosophical tradition, the range of authentic wisdom and truth." In Words of Wisdom, John W. Carlson responds to the late pope's call for the development of this tradition--often called the "perennial tradition" or "perennial philosophy"--with a much-needed dictionary of terms. Available in paperback and e-book formats, this is a resource for students in colleges, universities, and seminaries, as well as for their teachers.


In addition to key philosophical terms, the dictionary includes:

-- significant terms from philosophical movements with which Thomism has engaged

-- a comprehensive bibliography of works by Aquinas in English

-- examples from the writings of the philosophers and theologians mentioned in dictionary entries and

-- discussions of perennial themes



"The introduction to this work shows how carefully its aim and method have been thought through. The rest of Words of Wisdom demonstrates how well the aim has been achieved and the method employed. An invaluable resource." --Aidan Nichols, O.P., University of Cambridge



368 pages

ISBN 978-0-268-02370-6 / Paper / $45.00

ISBN 978-0-268-07693-1 / E-book (Adobe PDF) / $29.00

More information and to order

Table of Contents

Read an excerpt



Established in 1949, the University of Notre Dame Press is a scholarly publisher of distinguished books in a number of academic disciplines; in poetry and fiction; and in areas of interest to general readers. The largest Catholic university press in the world, the Press currently publishes fifty to sixty books annually and maintains a robust backlist in print. Visit our website to see our full array of available titles.

University of Notre Dame Press
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Notre Dame
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Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Another Scotus Grant

From Medieval News. I don't think they reported the Opera Theologica Parisiensia grant, but they did hit the following:


University of Scranton Professor Andrew LaZella, Ph.D., received a development intercession grant from the University for a research project focused on medieval philosopher John Duns Scotus and his analysis of some of Aristotle’s major works, especially “The Categories.” The project is titled “Univocity, Equivocity, and Proper Concepts in Duns Scotus’s Quaestiones Super Praedicamenta Aristotelis.”

Dr. LaZella, an assistant professor in philosophy, said that he researched “in the general area” of this topic for his doctoral dissertation and is excited to delve further into the subject. He said that an interesting part of this project is the difference in Scotus’ ideas in his early works compared to his later writings.

“This is a very early work of (Duns Scotus),” Dr. LaZella said. “The question becomes did he change his mind, or are the early and late works compatible?