THE THOMIST
A SPECULATIVE QUARTERLY REVIEW
OF THEOLOGY AND PHILOSOPHY

EDITORS:

THE DoMINICAN FATHERS OF THE PROVINCE oF ST. JosEPH

Publishers: The Thomist Press, Washington, D. C. 20017

VoL. XXXVI

JULY, 1972

No.3

THEOLOGY'S METHOD AND LINGUISTIC ANALYSIS
IN THE THOUGHT OF LANGDON GILKEY

I. Introducing the theme: the issues linguistic analysis raises
for contemporary theological method.

L

KE ANY SIGNIFICANT thinker, Langdon Gilkey
owes much to an historical legacy. In his case it is
clearly to the classical Protestant sources that he owes
most. But intimately bound up with these theological sources
is a philosophical heritage also. One sees this latter in his work
on Whitehead for his doctoral dissertation, his continual use
of language analysis throughout his writings, in his espousal of
some of the main principles of phenomenology, and in his latest
interest in science's philosophical methodology. Linguistic analysis, however, clearly seems to be his main interest, and through
its use he has tried to enable contemporary theology to become
" contemporary" again. Convinced, like Gilkey, that the analytic method has real relevance for theology, and convinced,
too, that Gilkey's particular use of that method has more
relevance, this essay will attempt to situate wherein that
relevance lies.
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It is probably safe to say that, if we wish to understand linguistic analysis, we need to know something of the British
empirical tradition. In fact, linguistic analysis is largely a result
of the vicissitudes of that tradition. 1 Passmore begins his classical history of the movement with John Stuart Mill but adds
that, although Mill probably never studied Hume, he clearly
follows in the latter's tradition. Undoubtedly the increasing
importance of science and the Industrial Revolution had a great
deal to do with British philosophers' insistence on the senses
as knowledge's starting point, but they were also clearly reacting to what they considered the dead end of Idealism, as
exemplified by Bishop Berkeley.
Hume clearly insists that the senses are our only real access
to knowledge. Any expression, then, which is to be meaningful,
must result from sense perception. Our ideas are copies, albeit
less vivid, of sense impressions, following Locke's unum nomen,
unum nominatum. If we cannot ultimately trace our knowledge back to sense impressions, or at least to a comparison of
ideas derived from sense impressions, then our knowledge must
be fraudulent. Experience alone, then, is the key to knowledge,
and not reason. For example, this means with respect to the
principle of causality that we cannot know by reason a causal
relationship between X and Y but only by experience a temporal and spatial sequence in which X and Y appears.
Mill follows in Hume's tradition, although his predecessors
differ. He came to accept a form of empiricism through his
study of associationism, utilitarianism, and Comte's positivism.
And his System of Logic, an attempt not just to describe but
to justify the methods of science, clearly reflects these schools
of thought. The key to his thought, consequently, is that
knowledge is not a matter of intuition but of observation and
experience, and he attempts to prove this in his study of logic,
the science of evidence. Naturally enough he develops a theory
1 We will rely here on J. Passmore, A Hundred Years of Philosophy (1957), esp.
chapters 1, 3, 6, 9, 15, 16, 18; and B. Gross, Analytic Philosophy: An HiBtorical
Introduction (1970), introduction.

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of connotation, according to which propositions derive their
meaning from the regular association of certain experiences;
and a theory of inference, according to which man always reasons from the particular experience to the universal, and not
vice versa, as was commonly thought of syllogistic reasoning.
Against this developing empiricism the Idealists reacted, especially in the person of F. H. Bradley. 2 He criticizes the
empiricists on two counts. First, their theory of thinking is too
psychological. It is not enough to say that our experiences in
some way "picture" experience. We must know, in addition,
what those pictures mean. Secondly, though our experiences
may seem separate, their reality is a united whole internally.
Later linguistic philosophers were to accept Bradley's first
criticism, but the latter they rejected.
It was, then, from this background of empiricism vs. idealism
that what we today call "linguistic analysis" developed. For
our purposes it will be sufficient to broadly outline this developmenU Commonly, philosophers distinguish five stages in the
analytic movement. First, early realism and analysis, mainly
as Moore and Russell at first practised it. The emphasis
falls here on placing questions precisely, striving for clear
answers, and attempting to formulate propositions in such a
way that their meaning is evident. Secondly, logical atomism,
as exemplified by Russell's work from 1914-1919 and the early
Wittgenstein. What was now attempted was the construction
of a language whose syntax would mirror or picture the world's
structure. But because this effort seemed to imply a metaphysics, the British empirical tradiction did not take long to abandon
it and accept the work done by the Vienna Circle. This " Circle " began the third stage, known as logical positivism. The
attempt is now made to construct a formal language which will
both satisfy the needs of the empirical sciences and positively
exclude any metaphysical statements. Although this group
• The Idealist strain was a strong but minor group in British philosophy. J.
Passmore, ibid., 46-94, adequately traces this development through Lotze, Stirling,
Ferrier, Grote, Caird, Green, Bradley, Seth, McTaggart, Ward, Bosanquet and
Royce. In many ways, these thinkers develop the thought of Kant and Hegel.
8 See B. Gross, op. cit., 18-14.

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claimed Wittgenstein as its main inspiration, he seems to have
held himself aloof from it. 4 Wittgenstein and Ryle ushered in
the fourth stage. A concern is now present to explain away
philosophical problems by showing the linguistic traps into
which philosophers have fallen. Philosophy is seen as therapyan activity which dissolves, rather than solves, problems. 5 Formal languages are no longer the concern, but rather the ordinary
languages of men. The fifth and current stage was initiated
by Austin. Ordinary language is still of chief interest, but
philosophy's task shifts from dissolving problems (therapy) to
studying the diversities of different languages, attempting to
illustrate how many of them say identical things, and systematizing the results.
Hopefully, the above synopsis will indicate the complexity
of this philosophical movement. For the purposes of this essay
we would like to " isolate " several key principles held more 01
less in common by these philosophers, whatever group they
might ally themselves with. First, there is a concern for the
empirical. A conviction that, if knowledge is possible, it lies
close at hand, experience being its "home," and not speculation.
Conceptualization alienates one from the real. Secondly, 6 philosophy's goal, whether it be understanding, solving or dissolving problems, can be achieved only through a careful analysis, or reform, of the use of language. Thirdly, the study of
language is not ancillary to philosophy but very possibly its entire field of concern. And finally, because the empirical is the
starting point, some form of the famous verification principle
serves as the heuristic axiom of this movement. Although, aside
from the logical positivists, this principle may not be explicitly
affirmed, "operationally" it is well in evidence. Briefly, we
may state this principle for our purposes as
. . . the meaning of a word is its use in its context. The meaning
of a statement is to be found, and is identical with, the function
• J. Passmore, op. cit., 871.
• See L. Wittgenstein, Philosophical Investigations (1958), 808.
6 B. Gross, op. cit., 19.

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of that statement. If a statement has a function, so that it may
in principle be verified or falsified, the statement is meaningful. ... 7
The above principles will lead to some very definite questions
which analysts will address to theologians, and so to Langdon
Gilkey. Before taking them up, however, I would like to briefly
indicate why this movement is symptomatic of the current cultural situation facing theology today. Gilkey himself, and Karl
Rahner,S give us an excellent portrayal of how this movement
forms part of a larger cultural whole.
What I am asking now is why linguistic analysis seems, in
the minds of many, to be a viable, if not the only viable, manner
of doing philosophy. Why, also, such theologians as Gilkey
and van Buren will make it the main tool of their theological
methods, and why it seems so compatible with the modem
" Spirit." A significant fact is that it flourishes in those western
countries where the scientific advance has been keenly felt:
America, Britain, Canada and Australia. When we see what the
modem scientific transformation of consciousness means, the
reason is not difficult to see.
7 P. van Buren, The Secular Meaning of the Gospel (1963), 104-5. I have
chosen van Buren's phrasing of this principle both because of its simplicity and
because it contains the key idea that what can be empirically affirmed is logically
open to being denied. Although the possibility of denial of empirical religious
assertions is questioned by some (for example, J. Hick, "Theology and Verification,"
The Philosophy of Religion [B. Mitchell, ed., 1971], 53-71), this liberty taken by
a theologian does not seem to have met with general approval among philosophers.
Both J. Passmore, op. cit., 369-393 and B. Gross, op. cit., 106-122, explain the
development of this principle. Briefly we can trace this principle from Waismann
and Schlick for whom a proposition must be reducible to an experience, the
circumstances of which would make it either true or false. Carnap weakens this
somewhat and will hold that propositions can be meaningful, not only when they
are actually capable of being affirmed now but when they could be shown to be
so, were the data sufficient. Ayer will demand only that some empirical observation
should be relevant to the determination of a proposition's truth or falsity. Because
this principle raises epistemological and metaphysical questions, even Ayer seems
to avoid its use in his later writings and, like most analysts, contents himself with
language itself (see J. Passmore, op. cit., 392-3). But the principle seems to
pervade the" atmosphere" of present day analytic philosophy, at least operationally.
8 K.
Rahner, " Experiment:
Man," Theology Digest, sesquicentennial issue
(1968), 58-9 and L. Gilkey, Naming the Whirlwind: the Renewal of God-Language
(1969)' 40-71.

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Karl Rahner points out the following in the new scientific
consciousness. First, science has enabled man to transform his
very environment. No longer is one's environment simply
"there" to be accepted but rather a raw material to be changed
and transformed by man. Nuclear energy is harnessed, houses
and food are manufactured. Secondly, man is transforming
himself. We see this most clearly in the fields of biology, biochemistry, and genetics: through the use of eugenic sterilization
to prevent defective births, of birth control, and of DNA-RNA
to establish sperm banks and breed only the " desired." We
see it in the fields of medicine, pharmacology, and psychopharmacology, in which, through prosthetics (artifical kidneys,
aortic valves, heart-regulating transistors), man is able to manipulate himself. In the field of psychology, through the use of
drugs, mass media, and electric brain stimulation. In sociology,
where man is learning to apply biogenics and medicine on a
social scale, in order to stabilize the earth's population. And
finally, in the political field, where a future world government
and world bank could enable man to even manipulate his world.
As a result of the above, a new human consciousness is
developing, one which Rahner calls " anthropocentric," as distinct from "cosmocentric." In the latter view reality seems
" ideally " predetermined. The forces and structures of the
cosmos rule man, and man finds his security by respecting those
ideal structures. Philosophy becomes the quest for the " form "
or" essence" of reality, a quest for the ideal and predetermined
essence of what reality should be. In the anthropocentric mind,
reality does not control man, but man creates reality. Reality
does not contain an ideal essence which man should respect,
but is rather a " brute fact," to be changed as man sees fit.
Philosophy becomes no longer the quest for an ideal or predetermined form but a means for enabling man to rationally
control himself and his world. It becomes a kind of analysis
of science, rather than a metaphysics which sits in judgment
upon science. Thus, linguistic analysis, with its exclusion of
metaphysics and its emphasis upon the empirical, finds a con-

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fortable home in today's world. Unlike metaphysics, which can
seem rather imperialistic, analysts are modest and simply analyze what is at hand in the current society.
Gilkey further clarifies the current mood. If for Rahner the
present Geist is anthropocentric, Gilkey will tell us what that
more fully means: a sense of (I) contingency, (2) relativity,
(3) temporality, and (4) autonomy. A sense of contingency,
because the real for modern man is not an inherent ontological
structure in things but the given, the brute fact which, far from
being predetermined by the nature of reality, man can and
does change by himself. A sense of relativity, because modern
man's world is not "finally given" but open to change, to
alteration, and to disintegration. A philosophical search for
essences is futile, for there are none. This naturally leads to
a sense of temporality; that is, the changing character of things.
And although this sense is not new, its all-pervading character
is. That is why any philosophy which seems built upon static
categories, any philosophy which searches after ideal essences,
is suspect. And finally, modern man has a sense of autonomy.
He is not the world's; the world is his. If anything of significance happens, man causes it to happen. In other words, man
is " left alone " in this world, and any reliance upon a God or
upon an ideal and predetermined form of what the world should
be is a false consciousness, an ideology. Thus, language analysis, with its modest claims, its desire to be realistic, and its
acceptance of the language current man, especially current
scientific man, uses, seems compatible with the present Geist.
With the above, then, as our background, we are now in
a position to understand the weight of the questions which
language analysts will address to today's theology. We will
mention those questions now, at this essay's beginning, in order
to set its proper tone and in order to develop Gilkey's thought
in such a way that he will be able to respond to each of these
questions. 9

*

*

*

• Here we will follow as our main guide D. Hudson, in his Ludwig Wittgenstein
(1968), esp. 58-71. What he there states is representative of the kinds of questions

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"Grammar tells us what kind of object anything is. (Theology as grammar)," 10 said Wittgenstein. This means that
being a believer, and even more so a professional analyst of
belief (theologian), entails participation in a certain universe
of discourse. And as any language entails its grammer, so the
language of belief has its grammar. It is with the latter that
theologians are said to deal, according to analysts. Basically,
then, a theologian examines " what it does, or does not, make
sense to say in a religion." 11 Following from this, and basing
ourselves on analytic principles, this means theology must
face a number of rather basic questions.
First of all, the theologian must attempt to delineate, through
philosophy's aid, the technique involved in using religious
language. For example, the ordinary believer will almost naturally speak of God as " caring," " loving," and " providing "
for the world. The theologian must examine this usage and
attempt to make sense out of it in the face of evil, hunger,
starvation, etc., which he finds in the world. If God is said
to be " caring," this word must be used in a number of different
ways, if the theologian is going to make sense out of its application to God. And yet, if its Christian usage is to be meaningful,
it must not be allowed to die the death of a thousand qualifications.12
Explaining the technique of religious discourse, then, involves
two aspects. First, what analysts call the " guidance " of this
linguistic usage must be studied, in order to delineate its consistency. And secondly, the theologian must uncover the
" depth grammar " of this technique, which for Wittgenstein
involves (1) uncovering the tacit presuppositions of religious
current linguistic analysis is addressing to theology. For further clarification, see
Christian Philosophy and Linguistic Philosophy,"
New Theology No. 9J (1965), 50-61; A. Flew and A. Macintyre, eds., New Essays
in Philosophical Theology (1955); A. Plantinga, The Ontological Argument (1965);
B. Mitchell, op. cit.
'" L. Wittgenstein, op. cit., p. 878.
a H. Hudson, op. cit., 58.
and Falsification: A Symposium," B.
u Inspired by A. Flew, "Theology
Mitchell, op. cit.,

J. Woelfel, "'Non-Metaphysical'

THEOLOGY'S

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discourse and (2) showing the limits of its logical frontiers.
For example, continuing our above example, when a believer
says that " God cares," in what hidden sense is the believer
using this word? If it means exactly what "Mom cares"
means, then why doesn't God " care enough" to stop evil, as
a mother would ordinarily protect her child from evil? Such
would be uncovering tacit presuppositions. Discovering the
logical frontiers of religious discourse enables one not to confuse religion with science, with metaphysics, with history and
the like. It involves a program similar to Ryle's: "If the seeming feuds between science and theology ... are to be dissolved
at all, their dissolution can come not from making polite compromises but only from drawing uncompromising contrasts between their businesses." 13
Secondly, discussions of the technique of religious discourse
are not enough. Language analysis also forces theology to
consider the question of the actual existence of the object of
religious discourse. Hudson claims that this question is equivalent to asking " Does God really exist?," where " really exist "
is indefinable. This is true because knowledge must result
from physical experience. If, then, we say "X really exists,"
what we mean is that " X is a part of physical experience."
But since X can only be known in the first place as a part of
physical experience, our expression reduces itself to a tautology:
" X (a part of physical experience) is a part of physical experience." Certainly we wish to say something more than a tautology when we assert that " X really exists " or that " God
really exists," but it seems indefinable on analytic grounds.
Obviously one can see here, in Hudson's analysis, the "operational " influence of the verification principle.
Hudson also advances another difficulty in this matter of
"really exist." Namely, to know whether something "really
exists " seems to arise " from the fact that people sometimes
talk as though it made sense to speak of getting outside all
conceptual schemes whatsoever and discoverng what really
18

G. Ryle, Dilemmas (1954), 81, as quoted by Hudson, op. cit.,

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exists." 14 But to do this on linguistic grounds, we would need
another conceptual scheme which is adequate for ontological
assertions like " X really exists," and another one adequate for
metaphysical assertions to justify the ontological ones, ad
infinitum. In other words, we would be caught in an infinite
regress, which, to an analyst, results in meaninglessness. In the
end, all that can be said about the assertions of religious discourse is that they are spoken, that this language game is
played. This is as "ultimate" as linguistic analysis will allow
one to be. As Wittgenstein once said, "Its advantage is that
if you believe, say, Spinoza or Kant, this interferes with what
you believe in religion; but if you believe me, nothing of the
sort." 15
Thirdly and finally, three further questions force themselves
to theological discussion as a result of the above mentioned
issues. First, how do we logically distinguish talk about God
from talk about Santa Claus? Presumablythetheologian would
wish to make a distinction. Secondly, in a cosmocentric world
view, in which man sees himself as controlled by forces external
to himself, it makes sense to speak of God as controlling and
providing for the world. But how can religion maintain its
meaningfulness within an anthropocentric culture in which man
seems to look only to himself for answers? Should we apply to
the discource of religious language Wittgenstein's principle that
some language games become " obsolete and get forgotten " ?
Thirdly, how rational is it to maintain a religious belief?
Ordinarily, the rational man can be skeptical and modify his
views as his knowledge grows. But there appears to be a limit
to the skepticism allowed a religious believer. That is, can
ibid., 64-65.
As quoted by D. Hudson, ibid., 67. Perhaps it would be good to point out
that not all analysts shy away from the metaphysical questions mentioned here.
The movement toward " ordinary " language analysis, as distinct from the
constructing of formal languages, is at least a tacit attempt to give a place to
religion (and the metaphysics it necessarily contains). An analyst positively
inclined toward metaphysics and religion is John Wisdom. See J. Passmore, op. cit.,
434-440.
14 D. Hudson,
15

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one still remain a believer and remain skeptical about the influence of Jesus Christ?
Thus, the anthropocentric shift in self-consciousness, which
the analytic movement through the above issues seems to
manifest in striking form, forces theology back to the very
foundations of its thought. Back, that is, to its methodology.
For the above mentioned questions are asked, not simply academically but personally, by a modern man who finds theology's answers problematic. Gilkey expressed the seriousness
of this situation in these terms: 16
When, however, we question the meaning of the statements of faith
or of metaphysics-when we say, " I do not even know what you
mean by the word 'God,'" or "I find metaphysical propositions
meaningless "-we are not only questioning the actuality or validity
of these conceptual systems as explanatory of the experienced
world. Rather, we are doubting even that they are intelligible at
all as potential modes of understanding the world, we are doubting
their possibility as explanatory or assertive conceptual systems.16

It seems that theology is back to the three choices expressed
by Karl Barth in his From Rousseau to Ritschl. 17 Although
Barth is referring to Kant and his challenge to metaphysical
thinking, the thought of linguistic analysis is just as applicable.
As a first choice, theology can choose to " remain itself," to
repeat the great theological tradition, and, rather than accept
the current critique of linguistic analysis as an indication of
the real, to sit in judgment upon that critique. Secondly,
theology could accept the current critique, " play " the language game of religious discourse, and act " as if " God actually
exists. Here the logical difference between" God" and" Santa
Claus " is either bracketed or ignored. Thirdly, theology could
accept the critique of linguistic analysis as an indication of the
real, and yet attempt to establish both the meaningfulness and
validity of religious discourse on the terms of that philosophical
method.
L. Gilkey, op. cit., 17.
K. Barth, From Rousseau to Ritschl (1959), 150-196, as used by B.
Wilson, " The Possibility of Theology after Kant: An Examination of l(arl
Rahner's Geist in Welt," Canadian Theological Journal, 12 (1966),
16

11

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Sociological theorists 18 have demonstrated, however, the difficulties involved in the first two approaches. The first option,
known to sociologists as " cognitive defiance," would seem to
work only were man a-social. But in fact he is highly socially
determined and living within a social milieu which avoids
closed systems of knowledge and accepts open systems in competition and communication with each other. The second option, too, is fraught with social difficulties. To theologize " as
if " God exists, but not to really face the issue, is to make a
"tactical modication" in one's thought. But such "tactical
modifications "-as sociological analysis reveals-lead to "cognitive modification." That is, if God's existence is" tactically"
ignored, it will soon be " cognitively " ignored. As Peter Berger
states: " ... once one starts a process of cognitive bargaining,
one subjects oneself to mutual cognitive contamination." 19 It
seems, then, that the third alternative is the only way in which
theology can avoid the two above difficulties and remain sociologically " plausible."
But can the above be done? The rest of this essay will be
devoted to Langdon Gilkey's attempt to answer that question.
A study of all of his basic writings will be attempted in order
to see, first, if he accepts linguistic analysis as an indication
of the real; and secondly, if he is able to effectively answer the
questions put to contemporary theology by that philosophy.
Then we will be in a position to know which alternative for
theology Gilkey accepts, and whether his conclusions are sociologically " plausible."

II. A study of Langdon Gilkey's use of linguistio analysis.
The problem of language has interested Gilkey since the
writing of his first book. 20 However, we can trace a clear
development from his early writings, in which the language
question is quite secondary, to his more recent work, in which
18 P.

Berger, A Humor of Angels (1969), 1-34, for what follows.

Ibid., 27.
•• Maker of Heaven and Earth (1959).

10

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it becomes central. 21 Indeed-although too much could be
made of this-Gilkey's treatment of language exhibits the two
tendencies most striking about contemporary language studies.
That is, the tendencies to see language either as an " instrument," which aids one in living rationally, or as itself a "primary form " of life.22
To explain those above tendencies, we might ask the following question: "Has man language at his disposal or is man at
the disposal of language?" 28 If one chooses the first alternative, he will have a tendency to view language as an instrument for dealing with the world, a method of rationalizing
one's life. Clearly the logical positivists and many language
analysts have chosen this option. We can see this, for example,
in their view of language as a system of signs; of syntax, as
the relation of signs to each other; and of semantics, as the
relation of the signs to the thing signified (meaning). A clear
proposition embedded in this option is the classical separation
between thought and language/ 4 the defects of the latter need21 His earlier writings:
Maker of Heaven and Earth (1959); How the Church
Can Minister to the World without Losing Itself (1964); Shantung Compound
(1966); "Cosmology, Ontology and the Travail of Biblical Language," JoU1·nal of
Religion, 41 (1961), 194-205; "The Concept of Providence in Contemporary
Theology," Journal of Religion, 43 (1963), 171-192; his later writings, in the main:
"Dissolution and Reconstruction in Theology," Christian Century, 82 (1965), 135139; "A New Linguistic Madness," New Theology No. :8 (1965), 39-49; "Secularism's Impact on Contemporary Theology," Radical Theology: Phase Two, C.
Christian and G. Wittig, eds. (1967), 17-23; "Modern Myth-Making and the
Possibilities of Twentieth Century Theology," Theology of Renewal, I, L. Shook,
ed. (1968), 283-312; Naming the Whirlwind: the Renewal of God-Language (1969);
"The Universal and Immediate Presence of God," The Future of Hope, F. Herzog,
ed. (1970), 81-109; Religion and the Scientific Future (1970). Content has determined whether a writing is " early " or " late," not date of publication.
22 For what foilows see the highly informative
article by F. Mayr, " Language,"'
Sacramentum Mundi, 3 1969), 268-274.
23 Ibid., 270.
2 ' Seen, in the classical tradition,
in Aristotle (names of speech are calculi used
for reckoning); in the Stoic distinction between logos and lekton (meaning as
uttered); in Boethius and medieval logic (siguification as a proprietas terminorum);
in realism and nominalism; in modern empiricism and rationalism (language as
based on mathematics and science); and in the modern idea of language as a
calculus, a tool and information-giver. Vd. ibid., 270-71.

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ing to be eliminated through the construction of a formal or
ideal language.
Although it would be too much to say that Gilkey explicitly accepts the first alternative, still his earlier writings, in
the main, treat language more as a theological tool, ancillary to
the real business of theology, than as a fundamental manifestation of theology itself. For exmple, in his earliest book, 25 in
which he attempts an explanation of the meaning of creation,
discussing the objections brought to that Christian doctrine
by modern philosophy and science, Gilkey will use language
as his instrument for clarifying what theology does and does
not mean by this doctrine (thus avoiding category mistakes).
He states:
People ask many kinds of questions about the origin of things,
and these are often radically different from each other in meaning
and intention. Consequently the answers to these questions can
be in quite distinct realms of discourse. It is, therefore, in terms of
the differences in kinds of questions men ask that we can most
easily see the distinction between scientific, philosophical, and
theological answers, and can most easily apprehend the different
kinds and levels of truth that each one seeks.

Throughout this first work Gilkey develops in a progressive
way the kinds of language used by theology to clarify what it
means by the creation doctrine? 6 After stating that theology
can never escape the essential concerns of philosophy (the
analysis of meaningful ideas and the rules of valid and coherent
meaning), since these are its tools,21 Gilkey quite helpfully
explains that the level of discourse used by theology is chiefly
"myth." This is meant in the technical sense as a religious
language in which personal and historical analogies are used
of God, but used paradoxically, 28 to express in a dramatic manMaker of Heaven and Earth, op. cit., 16.
Ibid.,
33-4, 54, 69 fl'.,
98 fl'., 152 n. H, 163 fl'.,
316 fl'., and esp.
319 ff.
21 My italics; ibid. 33-4.
28 One
can see in this understanding of religious language as paradoxical
especially the thesis of I. Ramsey, Religious Language (1967), for whom religious
25

26

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ner an understanding of God. Such language must be analogical, because theology deliberately denies that its language
can be taken in a
sense. It is paradoxical, because the
human mind is forced to its limits with an experiential language
meant non-experientially.
Although Gilkey is careful to add that an ontological reference lies behind theology's mythical discourse (though he does
not yet attempt to validate this in the light of linguistic analysis), he gives five reasons for theology's need to speak mythically. First, it preserves the utter transcendent reference of
such language. Secondly, it preserves the religious relevance
and validity of theology. The religious relevance, because theology has to do, not with cosmological facts, but with personal
commitment. The validity, because quite clearly, mere theological discourse taken literally would contradict scientific
data. Thirdly, such language preserves the dialectical tensions
or paradoxes of Christianity (God as transcendent and yet
involved in history) . Fourthly, such mythical language, because it is personal and dramatic, is true to the biblical tradition in which God is known in personal and historical
encounters. And finally, such language is true to the manner
in which believers know their God: not as fact, but personally.
Gilkey's second work continues this "instrumental" use of
language, although his application of it now is to the Christian
fact of the church. 29 The problem he sets out to treat is the
relationship of the current type of American Protestant denomination to its culture. He considers mainly those churches
known as denominations (which grew out of the Old World
" sects ") and sees the problem in the following terms: unlike
the church-type (Roman Catholicism, Lutheranism) most
though not all denomination-type churches (Congregational,
discourse is the peculiarly odd language of discernment and commitment. Cf. also
J. Macquarrie's God-Talk (1967), 168-248; and I. Crombie, "The Possibility of
Theological Statements," B. Mitchell, op. cit., 23-52, who tries to establish the realm
of religious discourse as that of the anomalous.
•• How the Church Can Minister to the World without Losing Itself, op. cit.,
esp. ch. 6, "Theological Epilogue: Language and the Church," 128-146.

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Presbyterian, Baptist, Episcopal, Methodist, Quaker, etc.)
have no sacred hierarchy, no holy sacraments, no holy dogmas;
and unlike the Old World sects, they possess no separated
communal, moral, and intellectual life. "Having no separated
areas which might be able to preserve the holy from the world,
and thus be enabled to mediate the holy to the world, this
church is in fact in imminent danger of being engul£ed by the
world." 80
In the light of that problem which Gilkey sets for himself,
he will demonstrate how helpful language analysis can be in
"clarifying" a very complex problem. In contemporary
churchly experience, Gilkey sees, in the main, three different
language systems in use when people speak about " the church."
The first he calls " down-to-earth," "operational," or "empirical." It is the American denomination as it is in fact thought
to be. We see people speaking on this level when they ask how
many people attend church or Sunday school, how large the
collections are, and how the parish plant can develop more
effectively. The second language system is that used by the
denominational officials to describe themselves. " Examples are
the ... common Methodist definition of the church as ' a community of regenerate Christians going on to perfection,' or
the Disciples of Christ view that ' the Church is guided in faith
and practice solely by the precepts of the New Testament.'" 81
Gilkey feels that this language is almost a dead one, because,
although it once could have been described as truly "empirical" or " operational," few modern church members even
seem to know anything about this level of discourse. 82 The
third language system Gilkey calls " ecumenical " discourse
about the churches. Examples would be the following: " the
Church is one," or " it is the fellowship of love among all those
whose Lord is Christ," or " it exists wherever the Word is
purely preached and heard and the Sacraments duly adminisIbid., 19-!W.
Ibid., 132.
•• Ibid., 133.

so
31

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tered," etc. 33 This third system becomes problematic because
it entails a " category mistake," confusing symbols which express God's relation to the church's life with the substantial
elements out of which the church is actually made. The ecumenical search for the common '' essence " of all churches thus
becomes a universal abstraction, having little or no concrete
relation to what the churches actually ("empirically ") are.
But, because Gilkey's criticism is always constructive, he
recommends, first, an empirical investigation of the actual life
of the current American denominational church, and secondly,
an historical and theological analysis of this data in the light
of Scripture and each denomination's own history. Only in this
way can the denominations relate the " Holy " to the actual
life of their members. But the important conclusion for our
purposes is Gilkey's proposal, quite amenable to linguistic analysis, that" if the church's life has in fact ... become dominated
by secular activities with secular goals, then it is quite understandable that secular operational language about the church
should be used by laity, clergy, and scientific observer alike,
and that any other form of language should become unintelligible for both the ordinary layman and the active minister." 34
With this last proposal, Gilkey has seemingly set for himself
the task which will cause him to become much more fully
concerned with linguistic analysis and which will cause him to
balance his early " instrumental " use of language with a view
of language as a fundamental form of life (and so of religion)
itself. The result will be his excellent work, Naming the Whirlwind: the Renewal of God-Language.
It is important to recognize that Gilkey will continually
utilize the helpful distinctions which his early " flirtation " 35
with language analysis caused him to develop. He will still
•• Ibid.
•• Ibid., 145.
35 Examples of this earlier flirtation with language analysis can also be found in
" Cosmology, Ontology and the Travail of Biblical Language," art. cit., and "The
Concept of Providence in Contemporary Theology," art. cit. However, from a
linguistic point of view, they do not go beyond what has been said here.

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remain committed to the place of myth in religious discourse
and simultaneously of the need of myth to be an " operational,"
living, and empirical language. In fact, showing how that can
be done, and still avoiding a category mistake, could be called
the chief point of his later writings.
One can see the elements for Gilkey's later writings developing in the period 1965-1968. First, in his Shantung Compound,
the recounting of his experience at a civilian internment camp
in North China during the war against Japan. His thesis is
that this "empirical" experience laid bare life's essential structures " by subjecting life to greatly increased tension." 36 What
results from this experience for Gilkey is a strengthened belief
in the specifically religious dimension of human life, without
which human living becomes impossible. An excellent feature
of this book is its " empirical " nature, beginning, not with
theological presuppositions but with life as it is actually lived.
This probably helped in convincing Gilkey that the religious
dimension is compatible with linguistic philosophy. Secondly,
Gilkey now becomes much more concerned with the problem of
secularity, and feels that its challenge to Christianity can only
be met by positive experiences of religion on the same level. 81
He also thinks that the attempt of van Buren to radically
secularize the Gospel fails either to do justice to the specifically
transcendent religious dimension of man or to the principles of
linguistic analysis purportedly accepted by van Buren. 88 Thus,
36 Shantung Compound, op. cit., ix.
Gilkey's conclusions from this experience
are the following: (1) man cannot live meaningfully without an open future; (2)
nowhere is it possible to escape the deeper issues of life; (3) man is immensely
creative, but under pressure he loves himself more than he cares to admit; (4) a
man's morality or immorality comes from his deepest personal resources; (5) the
real question in life is not whether a person or society chooses to be religious-no
choice is given here-but what kind of "god" one wants to worship; (6) one's
center of loyalty-if it is to give hope--cannot be a human creation; (7) the
structure of meaning is made possible only by a transcendent God. See esp.
223-242.
37 See "Dissolution
and Reconstruction in Theology," Christian Century, art. cit.
and "Secularism's Impact on Contemporary Theology," Radical Theology: Phase

Two, op. cit.
88 Vd.

"A New Linguistic Madness," art. cit.

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the foundations have been established for Gilkey's recent turning to linguistic analysis as his central object of concern.
By way of introducing the " later " Gilkey, it would be well
to return to our earlier question: " Has man language at his
disposal or is man at the disposal of language?" Just as accepting the first alternative brings one to an instrumentalist
view of language, and so to the concerns of logical positivism,
semantics, and logic, so the second alternative more clearly sees
language, not as a tool but as linked with life in such a way
that it is one of man's fundamental ways of coming to be. That
is, prior to man's deliberate use of language (understood as a
tool), one's language has already in some way constituted
one's being-in-the-world. Such a view clearly calls to mind
Heidegger's understanding of language as revelatory of Being, 89
but, within analytic circles, it also clearly reflects the concerns
of the later Wittgenstein.
We will recall that one of the concerns of the logical positivists was the overcoming of the ambiguities of ordinary discourse through the formation of an ideal language. Wittgenstein himself shared this concern in his Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus. But, owing to the later rethinking of his views,
Wittgenstein was able to notice the one-sidedness of this approach. Not wishing to separate language from life, he advanced the principle " that prior to conscious distinction between 'thinking' (concept) and 'speaking' (word) language
exists in a number of ' language-games,' that is, in various
different 'forms of life' each with its own usage." 40 "Usage
is meaning," among the analysts, has almost become axiomatic
since the later Wittgenstein. Clearly a slogan which indicates
the close linkage between language (meaning) and life (usage).
Thus, there is a movement among analysts away from formal
languages to " ordinary " discourse, as the place where one is
•• See his "HOlderlin and the Essence of Poetry," Existence and Being (1970),
also K. Rahner, "Poetry and the Christian," Theological Investigations, 1.
(1966), 857-867, and "Priest and Poet," op. cit., 8 (1967), 294-817, for a
theological application of Heidegger's themes.
'"F. Mayr, art. cit., 271; L. Wittgenstein, op. cit., pgs. 7, 28, 67, 226, 241.

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in touch with the real. Dallas High 41 has brought out this aspect of Wittgenstein's thought by emphasizing (1) that a
" language game does not mean a different set of words, but
a different usage of ordinary words" and (2) that " the differences between language games are fully balanced by their
similarities and the great overlapping between different modes
of speech."
It is, then, in the light of the above that we should understand Gilkey's quite remarkable Naming the Whirlwind: the
Renewal of God-Language. The work is quite large, and so an
attempt will only be made to explicate his methodology. Briefly, Gilkey is considering the anthropocentric situation facing
theology today. He submits that Neo-Orthodoxy preserves
God's transcendence at the expense of his immanence; liberalism, his immanence at the expense of his transcendence;
while radical (death of God) theology brings to a head the
radical secular elements of the Geist of today's man while seeming to compromise the transcendent in the Gospel. Put in
analytic terms, if " God " as used by a believer is a particular
use of an ordinary word, N eo-Orthodoxy has threatened its
"ordinariness," while liberalism and radical theology have
made it all to ordinary (How is this word different from " Santa
Claus"?).
From the beginning, Gilkey sees theology's key problem in
analytic terms. It is the problem of meaning. Whereas to ask
whether God exists is true or not at least implies some basic
understanding of this assertion, to question the meaningfulness
of such an assertion is much more radical: It is to doubt even
its very possibility .42 Gilkey continues: " What the historical
process of secularization means linguistically is that religious
discourse is no longer regarded by secular man as a discourse
either essential for or even useful in the course of his daily
life in the world (except perhaps when he is very upset!), in
"D. High, Language, Persons, and Belief (1967), 72 ff. and 86 ff., as quoted by
L. Gilkey, Naming the Whirlwind: the Renewal of God-Language, op. cit., 236, n. 4.
•• L. Gilkey, ibid., 17.

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politics, economics, family affairs, personal mores, or cognitive
inquiry." 43 Gilkey then proposes a quite complex, five-point
methodology to restore God-language to the realm of " ordinary
discourse."
First, Gilkey maintains that secular man's self-understanding
is in tension with his actual existence. Making no non-secular
assumptions but challenging secularism on its own grounds, he
holds that secularism on the level of felt existence raises questions which only religious dicourse is capable of fruitfully
thematizing. Thus, without religious symbols, secular life cannot be intelligibly understood or creatively lived. Secondly,
Gilkey uses the distinction of linguistic analysis of the difference
between the question of language game's meaningfulness and
the validity of particular propositions within that field of discourse.44 This will enable him to remain on the secular level,
without introducing non-secular assertions, such as " God exists." Thirdly, in order to establish the meaningfulness of the
language game of religion, Gilkey will move to a form of phenomenology. He feels this step is necessary because, although
linguistic analysis will say that use determines meaning, we
need further criteria to show that a particular use is a " living "
use, so that the linguistic symbols one uses actually relate to
one's felt experience as a whole. Language analysis cannot itself
supply these criteria, if it wishes to avoid the metaphysical pitfalls of the verification principle, and so Gilkey turns to phenomenology. Fourthly, in order to uncover the regions of our
felt experience which religious symbols thematize, Gilkey will
perform an "ontic" (phenomenological) analysis, uncovering
the "sacral" dimensions as they manifest themselves through
other things that appear directly (our on tic feelings, the tones
•• Ibid., 237. For what follows, see 147-470, upon which I am relying heavily.
•• The evident influence here: M. Schlick, "Meaning and Verification," Readings
in Philosophical Analysis, H. Feigl and W. Sellers, eds. (1949), 148, 154; L.
op. cit., pgs. 43, 77, 340, 116, 328; A. Ayer, The Concept of a Person
and Other Essays (1963), 17-18; P. Strawson, "On Referring," Essays in Conceptual
Analysis, A. Flew, ed. (1956), 30-31-all as quoted by L. Gilkey, ibid., 263, n. 4,
n. 5; 264, n. 6.

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of our living, our behavior patterns, etc.). In accordance with
phenomenology Gilkey asserts the primacy of " intuition "
through which analysis "can disclose what is there and point
to it; it cannot prove that it is there." 45 Fifthly and finally,
Gilkey points out that religious discourse is not a language
game separate from other ordinary language games but a religious and thus unusual use of ordinary words. Unusual, because it is multivalent, pointing both to an ordinary experience
and through that to a sacral dimension. Thus, along with moral
and existential aspects of religious discourse, we should expect
it to be abstract too (as pointing to a sacral dimension beyond
the ordinary experience) .
In order to more clearly spell out the character of the " sacral" dimension, or what he elsewhere names "ultimacy," Gilkey specifies it in four ways. It is, first, the experience of the
source of what we are, known in those moments when we are
aware of our being and its meaning as fundamentally given,
not subject to our control or direction. It is, thus, not an
individual being itself but such a being's pre-supposition.
Secondly, it manifests itself when we are aware of our limits;
aware, that is, of our fundamental limits, such as the experiences of threat and helplessness. Again, it is a reality beyond
our control and so transcendent. Thirdly, we lmow it as the
source and basis for our values, because, as the presupposition
of our being and meaning, without it we have no value. Fourthly, because of its transcendent character, it has about it an element of mystery, which accounts for religion's unusual use of
ordinary words.
This character of" ultimacy" is then discovered, for Gilkey,
in the secular experiences of contingency, relativity, temporality, and autonomy. Contingency, the radical experience of
knowing that existence is " given," beyond our control, is experienced by modern man as ultimate when he expresses a deep,
underlying joy at living or when he expresses a fear that he will
finally lose his life. Joy or fear: both are ultimate, because
•• L. Gilkey, ibid.,

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both are quite beyond our control. Again, the experience of
relativity opens up to the ultimate. For, regardless of how
relative things are, man cannot live without meaning if he is
to be creative and active. Something must become non-relative
for man, to be able to endure the relativity o£ things, and to be
able to overcome the threat of life's ultimately being meaningless. Again, in his experience of the threat of mortality, or in
his search for what will last, modern man's sense of temporality
reveals the ultimate. a reality quite beyond his control. And
finally, even modern autonomous man, precisely to be free,
needs relevant possibilities which act as ultimate norms for
guiding his life. Norms, that is, which obligate and judge us,
as well as condemn us.
Hopefully it is clear from the above that these " sacral
dimensions " of ultimacy can be experienced by man negatively
as well as positively. That is, they can be ultimate threat as
well as ultimate possibility. Thus, faith will always be demanded of the secular man, if he is to affirm the positive interpretation of the experience of ultimacy. Gilkey clarifies this:
Our first certainty, then, of the reality of this dimension of experience comes from our sense of the terribleness of an ultimate
emptiness, from the shattering effect of not finding anything sacred
as the source and ground of our life. And much of what we do,
like the debris on the surface of the ocean, reflects this cataclysm
at the depths of our lifc. 46

In the light of the above methodological presuppositions,
then, Gilkey is able to make his case for religious discourse.
Fundamentally his case hangs on the fact that the experience
of the "ultimate" is needed by man and society for their
very continued existence. However, those experiences are largely unnamed and unthematized. But if they are to be maintained by a culture over the long run, and if a culture is to
•• Ibid., 310. It should be evident that Gilkey's analysis of the ultimate dimensions has features strongly similar to Paul Tillich, F. Schleiermacher, and others,
and closely approaches B. Lonergan, Insight, 1957; P. Berger, A Rumor of Angels,
1969; and D. Burrell, "God: Language and Transcendence," God, Jesus, Spirit,
D. Callahan, ed. (1969), 35-47.

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be able to understand itself and so creatively cope with itself,
those experiences must be thematized in symbols. This, of
course, immediately raises the question of which symbols adequately thematize these experiences. And thus we must asK
the question of the validity of religious discourse, as distinct
from its meaningfulness (hopefully already clarified) .
In approaching the question of the validity of religious discourse, Gilkey quite clearly does not consider secular or metaphysical symbols as adequate to modern man's need to thematize the "ultimate" in his experience. His argumentation
is complex, but I will try to present the essential features here. 47
Two modern secular myths which attempt to give man a
vision of life as a whole, explaining man's nature, obligations,
and destiny in the light of that vision, are cosmic evolution and
Marxist dialectical materialism. Gilkey, however, sees two
problems with each, which in the end invalidate their usefulness. First, neither can admit its status as a myth but seeks to
appear in the guise of science in order to be credible to modern
man. By doing so, they are forced to meet empirical requirements they cannot meet. In other words, they have made a
"category" mistake. Secondly, because they seek to imitate
the univocal language of science, these myths cannot adequately
handle the " sacral " dimensions of human existence-mystery
and transcendence-for which a multivalent or analogical language is necessary. Sensing these difficulties, modern man has
tended to replace these myths with a new anthropocentric one
(given above), that of the new scientific man. But this myth,
too, based upon its assumption that a continual increase of
scientific knowledge will open up reality to man, mistakenly
thinks man himself can exhaustively be understood as an
object of study. It, too, overlooks those sacral dimensions of
man, which quite defy scientific analysis.
The case for metaphysical symbols is quite complex, and, as
"Although Gilkey treats the secular symbols throughout chapters three and four
of part two of Naming the Whilrwind, I will more heavily rely on his succinct
"Modem Myth-Making and the Possibilities of Twentieth Century Theology,"
art. cit., esp.
His treatment of metaphysics: op. cit., 415 fl'., esp. 444.

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Gilkey thinks, in form they are no different from religious
symbols. However, metaphysics itself, if it accepts Gilkey's
analysis of the sacral as truly transcendent, as truly the presupposition of being and meaning, must presuppose and rest
upon that sacral dimension when it speaks of " God." If
" God" is truly being's presupposition, then its reality cannot
be an element within any metaphysical system but rather that
system's ground. It seems, then, that religious symbols alone
can adequately thematize the dimensions of ultimacy in human
existence. First, because they can account for the fact that
man can respond to those dimensions of ultimacy either negatively (as the terrible Void) or positively (as one's source of
creativity). Secondly, because where man responds positively,
nothing has intellectually compelled him to so respond, but
rather something "redeeming" has so entered the individual's
life through an experience that he does so respond. The appropriate language for this experience, then, is not " proof " but
" confession." And with this we have the validity to which
religious discourse can appeal.
While Naming the Whirlwind: the Renewal of God-Language mainly addresses itself to the philosophical community,
Gilkey's latest work, 48 while substantially repeating the argumentation of the former book, seeks to relate to the scientific
community. Gilkey's concerns are still with religious discourse
or myth, but he is now attempting to illustrate that the scientist himself, as scientist, needs religious myth. The book centers around an analysis of the scientist's knowing process, which
itself for Gilkey leads to the experiences of the sacraJ.49
•• Religion anrl the Scientific Future, op. cit., upon which I rely here. An
extremely interesting feature of this book is Gilkey's historical analysis of theology's
dependence on science: with Enlightenment science, Deism tries to escape
scientific contradiction by relegating theology's field, not to present matters of fact
but to the past (creation) and the future (eschatology).
Uniformitarianism
restricted theology to the past (man's origin). However, as science became more
historical, and especially after Darwin's scientific explanation of man's origin,
it can neither be science nor be
theology needed a new self-understanding:
separated from science and maintain meaning.
•• The influence of B. Lonergan, op. cit., and M. Polyani, Personal Knowledge
(1964), is evident.

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First of all, even the scientific enterprise itself is increasingly
seen as a human, personal, theoretic act, based on a drive to
know and personal insight. Its purely objective and impersonal
nature is increasingly questioned. Secondly, within this personal dimension of the scientific act the scientist encounters
the "sacral" or "ultimate." We see it first in the scientist's
affirmation of the fact that knowing is possible. Secondly, in
the scientific community's shared commitment to know (their
belief in the reality of order, in the need for scientific integrity,
in the desire for utter simplicity, in the trust in evidence alone).
Thirdly, in the acceptance of an absolute; namely, the validity
of data and evidence, which alone enables the scientist to proceed. Fourthly, in the pronouncing of judgment, in which the
scientist overcomes the relativily of his own knowing. And
finally, in the compulsion to judge, in the inability to refuse to
judge, and thus in the acceptance of the non-relative and
ultimate, once the data is sufficient. In the light of this Gilkey
then repeats his arguments from his earlier book in which only
religious mythical discourse is capable of handling adequately
this sacral dimension encountered by the scientist.

III. Gilkey's response to the issues raised by linguistic analysis.
Linguistic analysis, as we have indicated earlier, is modest.
This final section of our essay asks if Gilkey, in his use of the
analytic method, has been equally as modest. Just as language
analysis, by moving away from an instrumentalist view of language under the later Wittgenstein's influence, sees ordinary
language as constitutive of life, so Gilkey has strongly maintained that a religious use of ordinary language is equally constitutive of life. And this applies, not just to the ordinary believer but to the scientist and philosopher as well. In the light
of this claim, then, we will examine the answers Gilkey's analysis would seem to give to the issues mentioned earlier which
language analysts are addressing to theologians.
Our first question has to do with the " technique " of religious
discourse. That is, with (1) its "guidance" or consistency
and
its " depth grammar" or hidden presuppositions and

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logical limits. For Gilkey the answer lies in the multivalent
nature of religious discourse (" myth ") , according to which
religious language is not explanatory of the relation of finite
events to one another (as in science), and also according to
which such language must express ultimacy to be religious. 50
Thus, religious discourse becomes inconsistent whenever it tries
to " explain " as a scientist would, or whenever it fails to make
reference to the ultimate. Its tacit presupposition is that, when
the believer speaks, he is using the language of myth (polyvalent) , and its logical frontier is the region of the ultimate as
experienced in the finite. To the objection that religious discourse dies the " death of a thousand qualifications," Gilkey
would seem to plead " guilty " if one limits human experience
to the non-ultimate, and " innocent" if one sees human experience as much richer, with a depth that can only be described as
"sacral" or "ultimate." The objection's limitation Gilkey
would regard as an a priori assumption which takes into account neither the empirical experience of the scientist as he
faces ultimate horizons nor the experience of secular man as
questions of ultimacy confront him through contingency, relativity, temporality and autonomy. In other words, the "technique " of religious discourse is dependent for its meaning upon
whether secular man experiences life as one-dimensional (in
which case a univocal scientific language is adequate) or as
multi-dimensional (in which case a multi-valent or "mythic"
language is needed) .51 Thus, the assertion " God cares," although resulting from an experience just as empirical as" Mom
cares," brings to expression man's experience of the ultimate.
Secondly, linguistic analysis forces theology to go beyond
considerations of " technique " to the question of the reference
of religious discourse. That is, what kind of statement is the
believer really making when he says " God really exists " ?
Different thinkers, of course, handle this question in various
50

See Naming the Whirlwind:

the Renewal of God-Language, op. cit., esp.

51 See H. Marcuse's
criticism of language analysis precisely because of its onedimensionality: One-Dimensional Man (1964),

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ways. R. M. Hare/ 2 in response to Flew's parable of the
gardner in which the believer's assertions are said to "die
the death of a thousand qualifications," explains the " really
exists " as the result of a blik, a kind of religious consciousness
from which the believer interprets life. Flew's response, that
this does not do justice to the traditional assertive claims of
christianity, seems well taken. R. Braithwaite 58 will explain
such assertions as " intentional moral " assertions, while the
prestigious I. Ramsey 54 neither clearly affirms nor denies the
ontological reference of such assertions. Hudson, as we have
seen, thinks the statement "
really exists " is either indefinable or tautological, and to try to define it presumes that
one can get out of his conceptual scheme of reference.
Gilkey's approach to the above issue, as we might suspect
from his methodology, is quite complex. First, it should be
understood that Gilkey maintains the assertive claims of many
religious statements, and certainly of the statement "God
really exists." 55 He clearly states:
. . . religious language is necessarily assertive. It does not, while
functioning religiously, concern merely pretty or salty stories,
fables, or artistic or moral allegorical homilies-religious mythology
becomes this only for later ages for whom the religious character of
the myth has dissolved. Many propositions, though not all, in
religious discourse claim to say something about the nature of the
real, and thus they purport both to give expression to some form
of cognition and to be classifiable according to the canons of truth
and falsehood; and such a claim is not characteristic of the language
of mathematics or of imaginative art.

To Gilkey's mind, there is no question of "proving" God's
existence, since "proving" itself is always based an epistemological and metaphysical assumptions. He rather seeks to show
the meaningfulness of religious language by phenomenologically
52 A. Flew, R. Hare, and B. Mitchell, "Theology and Falsification," B. Mitchell,
op. cit., 13-22.
53 R. Braithwaite,
"An Empiricist's View of the Nature of Religious Belief,"
ibid., 72-91.
•• I. Ramsey, op. cit., lOS.
55 L. Gilkey, op. cit., 287.

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uncovering the regions of ultimacy which religious symbols
thematize. "God really exists" then means "Man experiences
dimensions of ultimacy," a statement which is clearly neither
tautological nor indefinable, nor one based on a desire to get
out of the empirical scheme of reference, contra Hudson. In
other words, Gilkey, without accepting the metaphysical implications of Russell's theory of descriptions, 56 has performed
a descriptional analysis of "God really exists."
In turning now to our remaining questions, Gilkey's approach should be clear. In the first place, distinguishing " Santa
Claus " from " God " becomes impossible in a one-dimensional
frame of reference, but necessary in a multi-dimensional one,
where experiences of ultimacy possess significance. Thus, the
religious believer can assign " Santa Claus " to the class of
fables and "God" to that of myth (in the technical sense).
In the second place, to the question of whether religious discourse can maintain meaningfulness in an anthropocentric culture, Gilkey will respond with his thesis that secularism, on the
level of felt existence, raises questions which only religious
discourse can fruitfully thematize. The "ultimate " questions
which become all the more pressing in a secular culture are the
" home " of religious discourse, secular and metaphysical categories being inadequate to this work. And finally, to the claim
that the rational man is a sceptic at least to the extent that
new data can modify his views, while the believer can admit
of no doubt on fundamental christian issues, Gilkey offers perhaps his most interesting insight. That is, the "ultimate"
is experienced not just as the " Good " or the " Meaningful "
but as the "Void " and the " Meaningless." Thus, the ultimate
itself demands "faith" of the believer. It is affirmed, not as
one assents to the conclusions of a syllogism but as a highly
personal act of commitment despite the Void. And just as the
rational man's views change with the increment in data, so the
believer's commitment changes with variations in the experience of ultimacy.
56

See J. Passmore, op. cit., 227-241.

892

WILLIAM

THOMPSON

IV. Conclusion.
We have travelled a long route, but there seemed no other
way to enter into a significant thinker's mind. We might state
our conclusions in the following way. First, from a linguisticanalytic point of view, it seems that Gilkey has remained
true to the fundamental spirit and principles of that philosophical method. For he has demonstrated a high concern for
the empirical, avoiding metaphysical and theological assumptions. He has, at least in his later writings, seen language not
as ancillary to philosophy and theology but as a much more
profound aspect of human existence and becoming. And finally.
he has remained true to the strictures of the verification principle, at least as we have stated it. Even the possibility of
denying religious assertions has been accepted, for the experience of ultimacy admits of either a positive or negative response.51
Secondly, from a general philosophical point of view, Gilkey
has done at least two things. First, he has avoided affirming
the questionable assumptions upon which all metaphysics are
based, namely, the mind's ability to know reality and the
isomorphism of thought and reality. Instead he has chosen the
more modest claims of linguistic analysis and phenomenological
" intuition." And secondly, he has met the, to my mind, best
critique of linguistic analysis, that offered by Herbert Marcuse.
For he has shown to the analysts the possibility of going beyond a one-dimensional, linguistically univocal universe to a
multi-dimensional, linguistically mythic universe. 58
Thirdly, from a theological point of view, Gilkey has much
to contribute. He has clearly taken up the challenge to return
57 In my opinion Gilkey has changed his mind on this point.
In his Maker of
Heaven and Earth he affirms the position that theological assertions cannot be
denied, because they are of an order different from that of science. See
n. 14.
However, his Naming the Whirlwind: the Renewal of God-Language seems to
accept the possibility of their denial, for experiences of ultimacy can be both
explained as a Void, in which case religious discourse is negated, ar as what
Christians call " God," in which case religious discourse is affirmed through an act
of faith.
58 For Gilkey's comments on avoiding these metaphysical assumptions, see ibid.,
esp.
For Marcuse's critique, op. cit., esp. 144-199.

THEOLOGY'S

METHOD

AND LANGDON

GILKEY

393

to theology's methodological presuppositions. In doing so, he
has at least plausibly shown not only what kind of language
theology speaks but also why it needs to be spoken. In this
way he has shown himself capable of belonging to Barth's
category of those who both accept the current secular Geist as
an indication of the real and yet maintain a really effective
place for theological assertions.
Some problems remain, however. First, by relegating the
"home" of religious discourse to the experiences of ultimacy,
or to limit situations, has he thereby accepted the view that
one's faith is operative only in those limit situations? This
need not be the case, for indeed one's faith-affirmed as the
result of experiences of ultimacy-can play a determinative
part in all of one's activities, as Hare's blik nicely illustrates.
And this seems to be Gilkey's view. 59 But a lingering question
remains: are man's daily experiences, and not just experiences
of ultimacy, in themselves experiences of faith, or only faithexperiences because of the possible influence of experiences of
ultimacy? If the second alternative is accepted, does this mean
that the religious believer is only at times in a faith situation?
And finally, what of the absolute claims made traditionally
by Christianity for the person of Jesus as the real explanation
of the meaning of ultimacy? Can the mythic thematizations
of the Bhuddist or Hindu be as adequate to experiences of
ultimacy as the Christian's? It seems that Gilkey has not
adequately dealt with this problem. 60
In conclusion, we can safely say that Gilkey's modest claims,
inspired by the modesty of language analysis, have raised immodest questions. Perhaps that is the greatness of the man
and his work.
WILLIAM THOMPSON,

s. s.

St. Michael's College
University of Toronto, Canada
•• Thoughout Naming the Whirlwind: the Remewal of God-Language, but
particularly in "The Universal and Immediate Presence of God," art. cit., where
he strongly disagrees with Moltmann's placing of God only in the future, and
affirms God's constitutive activity in the past and present.
•• A comment inspired both by C. Davis, Christ and the World Religions (1970),
and by Prof. W. J. S. Farris, Knox College, University of Toronto.

THE PERFECTOLOGICAL

I

ARGUMENT

N THIS AGE when the weight of philosophical opinion
appears to be overwhelmingly against the soundness of
any theistic arguments; when everyone knows that Kant
or somebody else laid them low once for all; when even theologians decry them as rationalistic subterfuges; when at a
place like M. I. T. one cannot, according to Huston Smith, even
get the students into a decent bull-session on the subject; it
may seem foolhearty in the extreme to proffer still another
argument for the existence of God and to claim besides that the
argument may have something new about it to commend it.
That is the inevitable risk to be confronted in putting up one's
wares for inspection.
Yet there are reasons for doing so, and I believe they are
reasons not only of the heart. One reason would be that the
argument I propose to present might inject some variety and
altered direction into the monotonous turnpikes of the subject.
While the opponents of the theistic arguments claim to have
brought the runaway proofs into the philosophical slaughterhouse, there is no evidence that they have stopped whipping
the dead animals. Refutations abound and introductory texts
repeat them faithfully so that every new generation of philosophy students will learn of the feeble efforts of theistic reasoners. One would think on moral grounds that so embarrassing a folly might be allowed to die out in favor of more
fruitful undertakings. But the fracas continues, and as long
as it does one might as well add some fresh booty to the spoils.
Occasion might at least be given for sharpening a different
set of tools.
Such a reason, however, is superficial and open to the charge
of mere professionalism. More justification is needed. It ought
to be a sufficient justification-and doubtless would be in
394

THE PERFECTOLOGICAL

895

earlier times-to say that one finds the argument persuasive
and hence commends it to others for acceptance. But such a
reason-so simple and straightforward-is even more suspect
than the other nowadays, is accused of mere subjective rationalization, and in any case is regularly interpreted, by friend
and foe alike, as an instance of dressing up in argumentational
form what one has already adopted on faith.
Therefore I think the main justification for proposing any
new argument today must be its furtherance of whatever
human value is held to belong to the enterprise of theistic
argumentation. It is widely held that there is some sort of
value in such exploration, even though there is divergence
about the character of that value and about the results of the
inquiry to date. For my part I think that rational investigation of theism is a value in itself as an expression of the logos
within us and as an inquiry into the logos in nature. In thi:>
context it is well to keep somewhat distinct the question of
the arguments themselves, i. e., whether they are valid and
whether anything at all can be said on behalf of their premises,
and the question of how many folks accept the arguments and
how many of those folks were formerly believers rather than
skeptics. 1 No doubt these questions cannot be kept apart ultimately; but a great deal more needs to be known about the
conditions for accepting arguments. All of this, the whole
matter of the function of theistic arguments, needs a separate
study to present an author's outlook. I shall not pursue this
farther in the present essay but will limit the discussion to
my proposed argument. On the wider question it must suffice
as a justification to appeal to the generally received, though
divergently interpreted, conception of a human value in the
rational enterprise. 2
1 I have considerable
sympathy on this point with James Ross's discussion of it
in his Introduction to the Philosophy of Religion (London: The Macmillan
Company of Collier-Macmillan, Ltd., 1969), pp. 9-!'W.
" FOl' an interesting new approach to theistic arguments, emphasizing their personrelated character as well as their logic, see George I. Mavrodes, Belief in God (New
York: Random House, Inc., 1970), especially Chapter II. See also Mavrodes'
comments on Ross in his article, "Some Recent Philosophical Theology," The
Review of Metaphysics, XXIV, 1 (Sept., 1970), pp. 82-111.

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DONALD WALHOUT

I

THE ARGUMENT

The perfectological argument, as I shall call the argument
I wish to present (in obvious parallel to the other well-known
arguments), begins from a certain aspect of the world and
reasons to the existence of God. The aspect of the world in
question is its valuational aspect, as distinguished from its
factual aspect. The term " perfectological " is coined from
" perfectio " and suggests that perfection is the specific valuational feature employed in the argument. "Perfection " in
this case is used not in a moral sense but in a metaphysical
sense to explicate the general nonmoral notion of " good."
Also " perfection " is used not in reference to the world as a
whole, as in " the perfection of the world," but only in reference to particular things within the world. The former reference would not in all contexts involve an inappropriate expression, but it is not relevant to my argument in this exposition.
My procedure will be to set forth the basic statements of
the argument altogether in a brief compendium and then discuss the premises in more detail. In proceeding thus I am not
unmindful of the criticism that theistic arguments reveal a
certain arrogance in their proponents by claiming to accomplish so monumental a task, so momentous a result, in so short
a space. 3 But I shall assume, with all good logicians, that
logical validity is not a function of spatial dimensions, so that
even if the argument could be extended to seven or eight volumes, requiring years to study, it would not gain one whit in
logical validity, though it might have the advantage of not
being read and therefore not being refuted. If an argument
is valid, or has value despite invalidity, its length is immaterial
to that validity or value.
The argument is as follows:
(I) In human life intrinsic goodness is most adequately
interpreted as the perfection of man's being, i.e., as the ful8 Cf. J. J. C. Smart, "The Existence of God," in New Essays in Philosophical
Theology, eds. Antony Flew and Alasdair Macintyre (New York: The Macmillan
Company, 1955), pp. 29 f.

THE PERFECTOLOGJCAL

897

fillment of the potentialities of the essential nature of individual
persons. 4
(2) It is reasonable to consider other beings, and not just
those with sentient feelings, as having some intrinsic goodness.
(S) All instances of intrinsic goodness must, besides possessing the perfection constituting intrinsic goodness, include
that which is referred to by the most general sense of " good "
which applies to every sub-sense of "good."
(4) What is referred to in the most general meaning of
"good" is the situation of being reasonably favored or approved by a conscious mind by virtue of some aptness or
fitness for being so favored. The aptness alone would be potential good; the full relational situation including favor toward
aptness is the actual good.
(5) Therefore all actual instances of intrinsic goodness,
including the nonconscious ones, are characterized by reasonable favor of a conscious mind toward their perfection.
(6) In human instances of intrinsic goodness, which we
experience as intrinsic values, it is possible to account for the
requisite favor or approval by man's own favor toward the
satisfaction he finds in intrinsic values. But this is manifestly
not possible in the case of nonconscious instances of intrinsic
goodness; that is, these beings could not themselves exhibit
the requisite favor or approval toward their perfection.
(7) Nor could the requisite favor or approval in the nonconscious instances of intrinsic goodness come from any contingent beings whatever, for then their intrinsic goodness would
be the variable byproduct of the comings and goings of other
beings, which is not what we apprehend its character to be.
(8) Therefore the requisite favor or approval in such instances of goodness can only derive from a noncontingent mind,
which is a considerable part of what is meant by God and may
therefore be called God for brevity's sake.
(9) While this noncontingent mind might be interpreted as
'The name of the argument comes from the central idea in this premise.

398

DONALD W ALHOUT

merely a conceptual necessity of our thought rather than as
a really existing being, it makes more sense to interpret it as
a really existing being, since otherwise we should have to say
that real instances of intrinsic goodness are actualized by relation to an unreal entity, which appears contradictory.
(10) Therefore the conclusion that God exists is a reasonable conclusion.

II ITs CoNSISTENCY
The soundness of an argument depends, as everyone knows,
on the reasonableness of its premises and on its internal consistency. I shall focus on the premises, as the more crucial issue,
in greater detail in the next section. Meanwhile what about
consistency?
The first premise is a synthetic valuational proposition expressing a normative conception of the nature of intrinsic
goodness. It requires a dialectical justification. This premise,
though relevant, is logically independent of the second premise,
which is the real starting point for the argument and the key
premise in it. I have included the first premise only because,
if it is acceptable, it can be harnessed up to lend some additional support to the second premise.
The argument proper begins, as I said, with the second
premise, which is also a synthetic valuational claim, this time
about the ontological status of intrinsic goodness. It too requires a dialectical justification.
The third premise is merely an analytic statement about the
usage of the word "good." I should like to think that the
fourth is analytic also, simply explicating the most general
meaning of " good." But since this premise is likely to be quite
controversial, and since I do not want to consider it as a purely
stipulative definition, the premise might better be interpreted
as an empirical statement about the usage of " good " or
possibly even a metaphysical assertion. In any case it is to
be considered correct or incorrect and therefore in need of
justification. The statement about potential and actual good

THE PERFECTOLOGICAL

899

is intended as a linguistic clarification of the main premise
and as such would share in the controversial character of the
premise. It may in fact be the focal point of the controversy.
But that is a matter of substance, not consistency.
The fifth premise is an intermediate syllogistic conclusion
from (8) and (4) : since all intrinsic goods are instances of
good, and since all instances of good involve reasonable favor,
therefore all intrinsic goods involve reasonable favor. This is
valid. And since the minor term refers to all intrinsic goods,
it includes, of course, the nonconscious instances of intrinsic
good mentioned in (2) . This inclusion could also be stated
syllogistically but is obvious enough to be taken as implicit.
The sixth premise is an analytic observation concerning the
use and application of the term " reasonable favor or approval."
It is an important clarification but does not affect the formal
consistency.
The seventh premise is a synthetic metaphysical contention
and must be independently defended. Its function is to raise
(implicitly) the only two ways of explaining the requisite favor
cited in (5) and clarified in (6), and then to rule out one of
those alternatives.
Proposition (8) then draws the disjunctive conclusion from
(7) and stands as the main conclusion in the argument. It
derives validly from (7) and completes the thought contained
in (5) and (6).
The ninth statement is a piece of informal reasoning coming
from reflection on (8) , and the tenth statement puts this result
in a simple, popular form.
The formal rivets of the argument are thus (2) , (5) , (7) ,
and (8). The other premises give necessary clarifications or
are materially vital in the argument but are fonnally subservient. The nub of the formal logic may be summarized as
follows: (2) there is real intrinsic goodness apart from the
human order; (5) the ocurrence of this must include reasonable favor or approval; statements (7) and (8) deal with the
only two ways in which the requirement of (5) can be completed, and (7) rules out one of these; therefore (8) is left as

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DONALD WALHOUT

the only reasonable conclusion. Or, in short, if
(5), and
(7) are true, (8) must be true. I shall attempt to argue
informally that
(5), and (7) are indeed true and that
therefore the conclusion is true.
Admittedly the argument contains both formal and informal
reasoning throughout, and this is one of its distinctive features
as compared with the attempts at complete rigor in the past. I
shall attempt to make good on the informal reasoning shortly.
But as for formal consistency, I do not see that there are any
formal contradictions or gaps here. More than this, it seems
to me that the beginning of the argument leads definitely
to the conclusion, as contrasted with a random conjunction of
premises. If this is so, we have direct sailing to the premises
themselves as the crucial points to be established. We have
cleared the decks, as it were, for the main controversies.

III ITs PREMisEs
My procedure in regard to the defense of the premises will
be to offer some rationale or some gloss, as appropriate, for
each of the premises in turn. The contentions in this section
come under the heading of dialectic in Aristotle's sense. It
is assumed, albeit dolefully, that deductive proof of the premises
would be out of the question because of the infinite regress that
would be engendered. By the same token, a critics's dissatisfaction with the premises would not "prove " the adequacy of
his own alternative premises.

(I) The first premise asserts a particular theory of the good,
namely, the perfection theory, as it has been called. 5 It is in
the Aristotelian tradition. The reason I said earlier that this
premise is logically independent of the second is mainly to
emphasize that the second premise can be held without the
first, which may not be so obvious as the fact that the first
can be held without the second. The argument could just as
well start then from the second premise. More specifically,
5 A lengthier treatment
of this theory is given in my article, "A Perfection
Theory of the Good," Philosophy, XXXIII, 124 (Jan., 1958), pp. 20-28.

THE PERFECTOLOGICAL ARGUTh1ENT

401

one could hold that the concept of the good applies to the nonhuman realm, as the second premise asserts, without affirming
a specific per£ectivist 6 analysis of the good, as in premise (1).
For example, one might, as a panpsychist, claim that the good
is a category with universal application because feeling is universal and the good is linked up with feeling. I myself have
rejected this course, not because panpsychism is repugnant to
me but because the feeling theory of the good does not seem
entirely adequate. And this theory does not seem entirely adequate partly because I think we need a more comprehensive
concept to unify disparate value-feelings, and partly because
of what I shall say in premise (3) and following about the
general nature of the term " good."
Why then include the first premise if the argument could
begin with the second? Because if the first is correct it can
be used to help support the second through an analogical argument, as will be seen.
Meanwhile my reasons for upholding the first premise, i. e.,
the perfection theory of the good, are three.
The first is epistemological. The many value-experiences
that we have and that are named and listed as intrinsic values
makes it necessary for us, if we are to understand the good
generically, to identify some underlying characteristic, some
basic value-trait, which all of these values have in common
and which is the reason why they are properly and as a class
considered intrinsic values. The feeling of happiness has been
proposed by the hedonists as the generic trait in question.
But this tends to be only one feeling among others, e. g.,
moral feeling or aesthetic feeling. And following this lead, there
seems to be no candidate other than perfection or self-fulfillment which does not turn out to be one of the particular values
themselves. So the contention here is that the perfection theory
provides the needed unifying concept by interpreting all partie6 I
prefer the term " perfectivism " and its derivatives to " perfectionism "
because the latter term has moralistic connotations not appropriate in the present
context.

40fl

DONALD WALHOUT

ular values as contributory to the fulfillment of essential potentialities in the self.
The second reason is psychological. It appers to me that
an increasing number of psychotherapists, like Victor Frankl,
Erich Fromm, Karen Horney, and A. H. Maslow, are speaking
the language of self-fulfillment in trying to articulate the goal
involved in the cure of the soul and the health of the soul.T
They may not be very Aristotelian about it, because for one
thing there has been a shift from emphasis on the abstract
essence of human nature to the centrality of the individual.
They may speak not of individual perfection but of self-realization.8 But I believe the emphases belong to the same family.
Now one cannot argue that the working notions of psychologists are ipso facto a normative account of the good. Nevertheless, notions which have proven to be helpful in understanding
the conditions of individual health may be taken as prima facie
or informal support for the theory in philosophy to which they
are akin.
The third reason is moral. The ideal of self-fulfillment, or
the actualization of one's essential nature as a person, chimes
in well, as Ninian Smart likes to phrase things, with certain
other ideals we hold in the moral sphere, for example, the dignity of the individual, authenticity in being oneself, individuality in personal growth, and the ideals of democracy. Again
we cannot make a strict deduction here; but the perfection of
the individual would seem to be what these moral aspirations
seek and what they presuppose as their normative justification.
(2) The second premise asserts at the outset of the argument what is perhaps the most controversial thesis of all. What
can be said in support of it?
7 For an illustration
of this see A. H. Maslow, "The Good Life of the Selfactualizing Person," in Moral P·roblems in Contemporary Society, ed. Paul Kurtz
(Englewood Cliffs, N. J.: Prentice-Hall, Inc., 1969), pp. 67-76.
8 Self-realizationism as a theory of the good does not, of course, mean egoism as
a theory of the right. It is quite compatible with altruism, i.e., the belief that
it is sometimes right to sacrifice one's own self-realization, one's own good, for the
good of others.

THE PERFECTOLOGICAL

ARGUMENT

408

If the perfection theory of the good is plausible, as maintained in the first premise, then it can be utilized in constructing an analogical argument for the second premise, i. e., that
goodness is occurrent in the nonhuman realm. A hasty attempt
at such an argument might run as follows: intrinsic good in
man is to perfection in man as intrinsic good in things is to
perfection in things. This is symmetrical and expresses an
analogy, but it misses the main thesis. That is, whereas in the
first premise we could simply take it for granted that man's
life involves goodness, so that the only question was to unpack
the meaning of this concept, in the second premise it is the
very existence of goodness in the nonhuman realm that is at
issue and that needs establishing. We need to have not merely
a conceptual comparison but an argument to support an existential thesis.
The analogy can be restated, however, so as to exhibit the
thesis and its analogical support. We may put it thus: there
is the possibility of perfective attainment in man's nature,
and this is reasonably asserted to be intrinsically good; there
is likewise the possibility of perfective attainment in other
beings, and therefore this too, by analogy, is reasonably denominated as intrinsically good. That is, if it is reasonable to
make the connection between perfection and goodness in the
first instance, it is reasonable in the second because of the
analogy to the first; and it is reasonable in the first instance
(as argued in the discussion of the first premise), so it is in
the second as well.
One principal objection to this analogical argument might
be that what is essential in intrinsic goodness in man is the
feeling of one's own self-fulfillment, and since this is absent
in the case of nonhuman beings, at least the nonconscious ones,
there is really a powerful negative analogy or disanalogy which
nullifies any positive analogy. Here the panpsychists face no
problem because of their belief that feeling is in fact universal
in all beings. I have chosen not to employ this belief as the
strategy for replying to the objection. There is another reply.
I grant that it is plausible to maintain that the good is somehow

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DONALD W ALHOUT

related to conscious feeling-a point to be discussed later. I
would not want to claim that a bare natural perfection in a
world without any feeling is intrinsically good, or that a universe totally devoid of any awareness whatsoever would have
any good in it. But what is not evident, and is only assumed
in the objection, is that the requisite feeling must be the
feeling of one's own self-fulfillment. Could it not be that the
awareness needed for intrinsic goodness is in some instances
constituted by the awareness in one being of the perfection in
another? We seem to have many experiences of this sort, in
which we feel that things are worthy of existing in themselves,
even though we would not say that their goodness exists apart
from appreciation, any more than we would say that a child
can exist without a relation to parents even though it is a
distinct being from its parents. Not only God looks upon creations and sees that they are good. If this claim is sound, the
objection need not be fatal.
The second premise is not, however, tied to this particular
analogy. There are other considerations in its behalf, even if
the analogy fails or indeed even if the first premise is not accepted.
One of these other reasons is to be found, I believe, in the
intuitive valuational feelings of men. I am referring in particular to the widespread response to nature and to nonhuman
things as if they were value-laden, somehow good in themselves
and not merely as instrumentalities for manipulation. For
every person who is indifferent to nature and the nonhuman,
there appears to be another who relates to it aesthetically,
appreciatively, perhaps even tenderly or awesomely, a£ if there
were qualities there worth knowing and admiring for their own
sake. For every hardened thinker who sides with Russell in
saying that " the world of fact, after all, is not good," 9 there
is probably a Jamesian who will say: " To anyone who has
ever looked on the face of a dead child or parent the mere
• Bertrand Russell, "A Free Man's Worship," in Selected Papers (New York:
The Modern Library,
p. 5.

THE PERFECTOLOGICAL

405

fact that matter could have taken for a time that precious form,
ought to make matter sacred ever after." 10
For a number of years I have been collecting quotationspoetic, testimonial, philosophical-which give expression to this
human response to a felt goodness in nonhuman existence.
They come from poets, religious devotees, students, scientists,
even philosophers. The sentiment is extensive, and I am persuaded that we have to do here with a feeling that cannot be
regarded lightly in determining axiological truth. There is space
in this discussion for only a few of these expressions.
The first indicates a very primordial valuational response:
" It is hard to reproduce the companionship which children
establish with nature, but certainly it is much too unconscious
and intimate to come under the head of aesthetic appreciation
or anything of the sort." 11
The second is a more poetic expression: "As I look at the
hazy, gray shadows on the smooth snow-so pure and bright,
as I raise my eyes to the soft clouds and sunny blue sky under
which bare branches sway in the winter wind, I think how
exciting and yet peaceful are these natural things." 12
The next expresses the characteristic classical view of the
subject: "All natures, then, inasmuch as they are, and have
therefore a rank and species of their own, and a kind of internal
harmony, are certainly good." 13
And to balance the theologian, here is a statement of what
even materialists can say: " ' If matter is all there is,' they
would say, ' what wonderful stuff it is! ' And why not, indeed?
If material things can be literally beautiful, why should not the
behavior of material things, and dispositions of behavior, be
literally good? " 14
10 William James, Pragmatism (New York:
Longmans, Green & Co., 1907),
p. 95.
11 Jane Addams, Twenty
Years at Hull-House (New York: The Macmillan
Company, 1910), p. 17.
1 " From a student paper by Robert Hansen.
18 St. Augustine, City of God, in Basic Writings of St. Augustine, Vol. Two
(New York: Random House, Inc., 1948), p.
"C. A. Mace, " Some Implications of Analytical Behaviorism," in ContemporanJ

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DONALD WALHOUT

To be sure, the response is not universal or unanimous. But
we know enough by this time to realize that there is much
in our being of which we may not be aware, or which we may
even distort, at the level of surface consciousness. Could it be
that a thorough phenomenological understanding of the encounter of man with reality would lead us to a primordial
awareness, a prehension, that fact is also value, that being is
somehow also good? If so, phenomenology would yield, not of
course a proof but an inescapable datum which would count
as a good reason in the present topic.
A further reason for affirming the universality of good derives from metaphysical reflection on the concept of being,
leading particularly to what medieval philosophers called the
transcendentals. In seeking to identify what characterizes being as such, universally, we may accept as fulfilling this designation any trait for which (a) there seems no ground to limit
it to some special realm of being, and which (b) seems, upon
rational contemplation, actually to be applicable to every particular being. Thus space, for example, is limited to the physical realm and is not applicable to all modes of being, e. g.,
number or obligation. Other categories, like unity or individuality, are not thus limited and are applicable to all beings.
The good, understood as fulfillment of potentiality, may on this
basis be conceived of as entering the group of transcendentals,
and so indeed has the Aristotelian tradition interpreted it.
These three reasons-analogical,
phenomenological, and
metaphysical-conjoin, I believe, to support this all-important
premise.
(3) The third premise is a tautology. When we speak of
intrinsic goodness, as in the previous premise, we have in mind
only one of the senses of " good." There are various other
senses, such as "instrumental good " or " moral good." Every
sub-set of any given set belongs to that set by virtue of what
is common to the entire set. The term " intrinsic good," therePhilosophic Problems, eds. Y. Krikorian and A. Edel (New York: The Macmillan
Company, 1959), p. 428.

THE PERFECTOLOGICAL

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407

fore, as a sub-meaning of " good," will have to include within its
meaning the common meaning of " good " in general as well as
its own particular meaning. Likewise actual instances of intrinsic goodness will exemplify that which is referred to by the
common meaning of " good."
(4) This premise attempts to state what that common
meaning of "good" is that is mentioned in the third premise.
To use the word " good," in the most general sense of " good,"
is in the first place to commend or favor something. Thus
" good " is sometimes spoken of as the most general term ot
commendation. But secondly, there is the connotation that
the word is used with some ground and not just arbitrarily or
fancifully. Not merely favor but "reasonable favor" 15 is involved. The ground for the commendation, that which makes
it reasonable, is simply the character of what is being commended. The referent is said to be good because of what it is,
its properties and traits; it is commendation-worthy. Thus to
say something is good is to say it is reasonably favored by
virtue of its commendation-worthiness according to the speaker.
I would thus contend that the word " good " is both a performative word and an indicative word simultaneously, and
that the two aspects of meaning are inseparable. By using the
word " good " we both express our favor toward something and
indicate that that something has qualities eliciting such favor.
If this analysis is correct, it would seem to imply that whatever is good has a relation to a favoring or commending consciousness. To be good, in the most general sense, is to be a
fitting object of reasonable favor. But whether all goodness
does involve such a relation to consciousness or not is a controversial point, and more must be said on this.
There is a traditional Scholastic view that goodness pertains
to things themselves and is in no way contingent upon any
favor or approval that might or might not be taken up toward
15 This phrase is from A. C. Garnett, Ethics, a Critical Introduction
(New York:
The Ronald Press Company, 1960), pp. 350-51, though the idea, of course, is
very common.

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DONALD W ALHOUT

it. In this view the term " good" is indicative of a thing's
character in itself, with only a possible relation to consciousness. It involves an aptitude for being valued, i. e., a potential
valuation by consciousness, and not necessarily an actual valuing. The goodness of something no more requires a conscious
favoring of it than would the squareness of an object require
somebody's approving of the squareness. Thus the most one
could infer from the meaning of " good " is a potential relation
to consciousness, not an actual one. The use of the word
" good " is obviously a conscious act, but in using it we may
refer to either an actual valuing or a potential one. The aptness
for a possible favoring is all that is needed to say something
is good.
·
I am sympathetic to this doctrine of objectivity of goodness.
The present argument depends on utilizing, albeit reconstrucing, this doctrine. The question at issue here is, however,
I believe, whether in a context without consciousness of any
kind the term " good" could have any referential significance
at all. It is not a question of whether specific acts of favoring
or valuing, like yours or mine, are always attached to things
that are good: we may grant that they need not be. It is a
question of whether goodness by its very nature is interrelated
with consciousness as such. " Good " is a valuational word even
more primordially-more analytically, if I may speak so-than
it is a favoring word or a grounded favoring word, and the
question is whether such terms are consciousness-entailing as
such.
On this point empirical usage may seem to be ambiguous and
to leave us at a stand-off. We do speak of things as good
without any apparent tie to any actual favoring or valuing.
We speak of a good pen, a good house, a good horse, a good
tree, a good world, or a good God, without intending that these
would lack their goodness if a particular speaker happened to
have different favorings from those he in fact has. Actual
favorings seem to be dispensable addenda.
One way of explaining this usage, however, would be to say
that it is simply a shortcut expression with a reference to con-

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409

sciousness implicit. Thus a "good" house, a "good" world, etc.,
would mean " good as appreciated by conscious beings," " good
as apprehended by an impartial spectator," " good as viewed by
valuing beings generally," or something of that sort. A more
classical way of putting the matter would be to say that, just as
we must distinguish between potential and actual favoring, so
we must distinguish between potential good and actual good.
Without any consciousness there would be potential good only,
or the ingredients for goodness. But actual good is realized
only through the marriage of these ingredients with conscious
appreciation.
This is a claim that we cannot at all assert dogmatically.
In fact, it is difficult to know how to defend it further, except
through a thought experiment reminiscent of G. E. Moore. 16
Let us imagine a completely material universe with no possibility of consciousness-divine, human, or animal-in it. Could
anything in such a universe be good? Of couse, nothing could
be said to be good or felt to be good; but could anything even
be good? It seems that the very question of good, the very
occurrence of good, does not even arise apart from some apprehension or judgment. Nat ural perfection of kinds of things
there might be (as would be judged by conscious beings). But
are they good? For example, would it be better that they exist
rather than some other patterns or forms? The question seems
somewhat unintelligible with no consciousness involved. Such
questions founder in a stark valuational neutrality in a completely material universe. But bring in conscious appreciation
and the questions become meaningful. It is better that the
universe contain conscious appreciation of some forms rather
than of others, as judged by consciousness itself. The union
of the material with the conscious actualizes the potential good.
The two form a union, and the good is born.
One motive for upholding the purely independent status oi
goodness might be the fear that if goodness were related to con16 Cf. G. E. Moore, Principia Ethica (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press,
1903)' pp. 81-85.

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DONALD WALHOUT

sciousness it would become merely instrumental goodness subservient to conscious needs and enjoyments; that is, there
would be no goodness of being as such left. But this interpretation need not result. To appreciate a thing's being, to take
note of its perfection, to acknowledge it as something worthy
to be, to see it as commendation-worthy in itself-all this is
not to view it as fulfilling man's need or pleasure (though
it may do that as well). We should distinguish between what
might be called beheld goodness and need-fulfilling goodness.
To recognize the involvement of consciousness in goodness is
quite compatible with a beholding situation and not only with
a need-fulfilling situation. Obviously religion thinks this is
so when it accepts the teaching that God looked upon the things
he had created and saw that they were good, not meaning that
their goodness was a contribution to his own needs, nor that
their goodness (or even their being for that matter) had any
existence independent of his own being, but rather that their
goodness was simply a perfection worthy to be as experienced
by appraising consciousness, his own. 17 Men can have such
experience of beheld goodness too.
Another motivation in the classical doctrine may be the
fear that making the good depend on conscious favor will also
make it subjectively variable and individually relative. The
theme is brought out nicely in Plato's Euthyphro/ 8 Socrates
insists that piety (or, we may add, goodness, rightness, etc.)
is simply what it is in its own essence, and is favored because
of what it is rather than being what it is because of a projected favoring. There is something distasteful in thinking
that value qualities have no status of their own but depend on
gods lurking behind the scenes and darting in their rather
fickle favorings and disfavorings. Socrates is surely right, and
the same thesis can be reasonably extended to human approvings and even to a more unified divine will than Euthyphro
could imagine.
17 Cf. Gen. 1: 31. This point is, of course, only an illustration
and could not be
used in the argument without circularity.
18 Cf. Euthyphro, lOA ff., any edition.

THE PERFECTOLOGICAL

411

Yet we must remember that Socrates was looking simply for
an objective meaning, an essence of something, and just because an essence does not consist in any external, extraneous
favorings, this does not entail that the essence involves no
consciousnes what ever. For example, the essence of piety includes, whatever else it is, a kind of revering, and this is a
conscious act. Likewise goodness, while not consisting of any
additional external favorings, may nevertheless be bound up
with conscious appreciation as such. Furthermore, if goodness
involves consciousness in some fashion, this need not lead to
subjective variability and individual relativism. There can certainly be objective judgments, and criteria for these, in matters
involving conscious awareness. In fact, the idea of reasonable
favor based on the thing itself permits a framework for objectivity (though we cannot deny that the word" good" is sometimes used for private taste and preference). I do not think,
therefore, that the present view succumbs to the Socratic
criticism.
I suspect that what I have said about this premise will
appear superfluous to the modern subjectivist and insufficient
to the Scholastic defender. Nevertheless, it seems to me that
the view outlined here does considerable justice to metaphysical interest, to valuational objectivity, and to empirical usage.
In any event I hope that more has been accomplished than
would be so in the backdoor tactic of saying that one's premise
might still be the case even if one's dialectical defense of it
were missing, which, though true enough (provided there is
no contradiction or known falsity) , yields little enlightenment
and no persuasion.
(5) This intermediate inference from (4) and (3) applies
what is true of good in general to intrinsic good in particular,
including that of nonconscious beings. It relates the movement
of thought back to the opening wedge of the argument in premise (fl) . It sets the stage for completing the further specific
implications of the view that all good involves relatedness to
conscious mind.

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DONALD WALHOUT

(6) This premise merely takes note of the fact that, since
reasonable favor is an awareness of conscious minds, it could
not be displayed by lower nonconscious beings. The point in
noticing this tautology is that it highlights the problem now
confronted at this stage of the argument. More particularly,
there would seem to be no problem at all if we could confine
the discussion to human good; for to speak of intrinsic goods
in human experience, e. g., knowledge or happiness or virtue,
is to indicate simultaneously that they are reasonably favored
by the reflective experiencers of these goods. There is no need
to account for the reasonable favor in these cases, for man
himself finds certain values desirable in themselves and favors
them imminently. There is no need to go outside of man to
understand why his human values are considered intrinsically
good: he simply experiences them that way by virtue of his
nature.
But we have contended in premise (2) that there is intrinsic
good in the nonhuman realm as well. And this situation does
present us with a problem, for in the nonhuman realm there are
innumerable beings which do not-because they cannot- exhibit imminent favor toward their own realization or perfection.
Therefore we need to account for this aspect of the good in a
way different from that in the case of human value. We need
to go outside these beings for the answer. The conscious
appreciation actualizing their perfection into complete goodness lies beyond their own being.
(7) Still there would be no problem if we could quite plainly
say-as no doubt philosophers of conventional wisdom today
are inclined to say-that any goodness in nature merely reflects man's attitude of favor. In that case there is nothing
good or bad in nature but human thinking makes it so. Man
likes certain things and so he calls them good. This is all the
favor there is, and nothing remains to be accounted for. Pre·
mise (7) maintains that such an explanation is unsatisfactory.
Its purpose is not to suggest that we have direct experience of
divine consciousness. Its function is, firstly, the logical one of

THE PERFECTOLOGICAL

413

pointing out that, without imminent awareness in nonconscious beings, only two alternatives remain for the requisite
favor toward their perfection: that of other contingent beings,
or that of a noncontingent consciousness. Secondly, the first of
these alternatives is rejected as inadequate, contra the conventional wisdom. It is this rejection that needs defense, since it
is a metaphysical claim and not a tautology.
There is first of all a minor linguistic difficulty in the conventional view mentioned above. This view seems to make intrinsic good into instrumental good. The nonhuman becomes good
only when useful to man, only when it suits his likings or interests. But we ought not, I suppose, to switch the meanings
of terms in this way.
Obviously this linguistic remark is insufficient by itself, because the real question is whether instrumental good is all the
good there is out there. But at least it reminds us that we
cannot begin with an affirmation of the intrinsic goodness of
beings and then treat them as only good for people's likings
and uses. The phrase "good for," incidentally, has a double
meaning: it may mean " good as serving likings and uses,"
or it may mean " good from the point of view of an impartial
appreciator." Our present view of intrinsic goodness involves
a "good-for "-ness inasmuch as reasonable favor is included,
but only in the second sense and not the first. Goad-in-itself
and good-for are not incompatible in the second sense of " good
for," but the first sense would make intrinsic good into instrumental good.
But what more, of substance, can be said on behalf of the
view that contingent beings like man do not afford an adequate explanation of the reasonable favor involved in the intrinsic goodness of nonconscious beings?
If a being's goodness were dependent solely on the states of
mind of other contingent beings, for example, on human feelings, then apparently such goodness could come and go with the
comings and goings of these other contingent beings (not to
mention the fluctuating and often fickle favorings and moods
of these other beings while they do exist). Any sense of a truly

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DONALD W ALHOUT

objective good pertaining to the being itself would seem to
vanish. So the crucial question is whether, in our apprehension
of the goodness of things, this is what we apprehend it to be.
We must carry the deliberations of premise (2) further and
ask not only whether there is goodness in being but whether
such goodness is variable with the favorings of contingent beings or whether it is more inherent than that.
The answer to this question must be found, I believe, in
phenomenological description. There is no scientific or a priori
proof that is possible. We can only describe what appears to
be man's general experience as exemplified in us and then
appeal to others for comparison with what they find in their
attempts at impartial, introspective attention. It is not a case
of one person disclosing secret doctrines which have been revealed to him. Neither is it a case of describing the behavior
or of sampling the attitudes of people who have never thought
about the topic. It is a case of public, albeit introspective,
inquiry into the marks and presuppositions of lived experience,
in this instance man's valuational response to the world.
I propose (and appeal for corroboration) that there are two
foci in our valuational experience which direct us away from a
mere dependence of a being's goodness upon other contingent
beings. The first is that in focusing on the goodness of something we are forced to focus on the thing itself, as if the goodness pertained to it and not to other beings. As with appreciating a work of art, where our attention is directed not backward to our subjective reactions but forward to the work of
art itself-its form, qualities, harmony, substance; so too with
a stone, a flower, a cell, an atom, a galaxy. The perfection we
apprehend and favor as good is inherent in the thing. In the
act of valuation we are noticing, we are contemplating, we may
even be spellbound by, the being itself.
The second factor is that in seeking to trace out the locus
of the reasonable favor needed to complete the meaning of
" good " in these nonhuman situations, we feel a sense of the
utter inadequacy of thinking that our own private feelings, or
those of other finite beings like ourselves, could be enough to

THE PERFECTOLOGICAL

415

endow beings with intrinsic goodness. Our sense of finiteness
makes us realize that we are not the masters of existence as
such, not the determiners of what is good in other beings. We
cannot seriously believe that the good of things swims in and
out of existence depending on the favor that we ourselves happen to bestow upon or withdraw from them. We cannot believe
that the intrinsicness, the internality, the perduringness of the
good is so precarious a shadow of the flow of outer attitudes,
often whimsical, in :finite, contingent beings. The intrinsic good
in things would have to be related to a more impartial, stable,
persisting, conscious appreciation, such as would have an enduring grasp of a thing's nature and what it may contribute to
the universe just by being what it is. This is not an experience
of God; it is simply a realistic awareness of the character and
limits of finite attitudes.
(8) Here we have the main conclusion of the argument.
It follows validly if the previous premise is correct. Assuming
the contingent and noncontingent to be exhaustive, the requisite favor or appreciation must emanate from a noncontingent
mind if it cannot be accounted for by contingent ones.
Since this is the main conclusion of the argument, the following summation may be in order: There are nonhuman beings which constitute a fulfillment of potentiality, an integral
harmony, an internal perfection. It is appropriate to designate
such perfections, when they occur, as good. 19 But since "good "
in its most general sense means "reasonably favored or appreciated," there is no actual goodness totally apart from
conscious mind. The condition of reasonable favor in the nonhuman good cannot be fully explained either imminently or
by external contingent attitudes. Therefore the enduring awareness of a noncontingent mind is implied.
Admittedly the concept of noncontingent mind is not equiv19 The assertion of this point does not deny the occurrence of evil resulting from
the impingement of beings upon one another. There is no intention here to deny
either the reality of evil or the need, on moral grounds, to curtail some perfections
for the good of others.

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DONALD WALHOUT

alent to the concept of God. There are certainly systems of
philosophy, notably in India but also Aristotle's, in which there
appears a supreme noncontingent mind which is nevertheless
not God in the traditional monotheistic sense. One may reply,
however, that noncontingent mind is so considerable a part
of what is meant by God that the transition seems natural and
inescapable. Furthermore, when we recall that what is involved
in this conclusion is an eternal, prehending purview of all finite
perfections by an appreciating, favoring, contemplating mind,
we must conceive of such a mind not only as noncontingent
but also as omniscient and perhaps omnipresent, and this does
bring us closer to the conception of God. In any case, anyone
who has accepted the steps of the argument up to this point
will probably not balk at calling this noncontingent mind God.
In fact, it will probably be granted by all that we are properly
referring in this conclusion to God, so that the main controversy lies not here but with the steps leading to this conclusion.
(9) Still all would not be well unless we arrived at God
as really existing and not as a conceptual product only. An
objector might contend, for example, that even if the argument
held up it would involve only a necessity in our thought and
not an existential claim. Such an objection, however, is more
relevant against an ontological form of argument in which one
begins with something conceptual in the first place. In contrast with this, the present argument begins with a feature of
the real or extra-conceptual world, namely, its goodness. This
goodness requires a real favor and not just a conceptualized
one. Hence that real goodness could not be what it is without
that real appreciation, and this could come only from a really
existing being. If such a being must be a noncontingent mind,
then this mind must be real. Proposition (9) makes this point.
Another consideration on this point is that, with a conceptual
necessity only, the needed favor would be located in us, i.e., in
our own imagination or thought. But this would make it contingent, which violates premise (7). The conclusion must lead
then to real existence if the previous steps are correct.

THE PERFECTOLOGICAL

417

(10) This concluding proposition is stated in this informal
manner so as to accentuate the point that the argument does
not claim to be a strict deduction but rather purports to be
a reasonable argument in some informal sense. The argument
contains both deductive and informal or dialectical elements;
so it could not claim to be a strict demonstration. The claim
is that the argument renders the conclusion more plausible,
more likely, than its negation. I am assuming, of course, that
if a conclusion is reasonable, then what it asserts is justifiably
held to be true. The reasonableness here is not intended to
suggest merely that the conclusion follows from the premises
in some abstract, formal, nonexistential way. Rather, since the
conclusion is existential, we may say that if the premises are
acceptable and if the conclusion follows from them, then God
really exists and it is reasonable to believe this. That is the
whole point in supporting the premises.
This completes my commentary on each of the statements in
the argument. There is one further matter of exposition that
may be helpful in regard to the argument.

IV ITs ANALOGUEs
I shall conclude with a brief comparison of the perfectological argument with other types of argument that have been
frequently discussed.
We may begin by comparing the argument with the five
proofs of Thomas Aquinas. It has a similarity to each of them
but is not identical with any of them.
The perfectological argument has an affinity with all of St.
Thomas's arguments collectively inasmuch as it begins from
some characteristic of the empirical world and moves to the
existence of God. It might be objected that goodness is not
an empirical characteristic of the world, as is motion or causation, and that therefore there is a basic difference. It is true
that beginning with goodness makes the argument closer in
this one respect to the fourth proof, where degrees of perfection is the starting point. Yet it can be reasonably insisted
that none of St. Thomas's starting points is empirically obvious

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DONALD WALHOUT

in the way in which sensuous properties like color and shape
are. His starting points are all abstractive concepts coming
from reflection upon the world. Even the seemingly obvious
of them have been denied to be real by some philosophers,
e. g., motion by Bradley, causation by Hume, contingency by
Spinoza. In this sense goodness is like the other starting points.
The ambiguity can be avoided if we say we are beginning from
" characteristics of the empirical world " and not " empirical
characteristics of the world." In any case there is a similarity
here between these proofs and the present argument.
There is a further similarity to the first three proofs in that
there is an eventual appeal to the distinction between contingent and necessary being. The focus, however, is different.
The perfectological argument does not try to show that because
contingent beings exists there must be a necessary being.
Rather it finds contingent beings unsatisfactory as a solution
for another problem, namely, the completion of the nature
and meaning of nonhuman good, and therefore moves to necessary being as the only alternative mode of completion. The
existential aspect of the necessary being is already taken care
of earlier in the argument through the intermediate conclusion
that what is needed to complete the good is conscious mind,
whether it be contingent or necessary. The only way in which
the contingency-necessity distinction comes in is in the decision
as to which is involved in the completion; it is not the direct
point of the argument. In other words, if the requisite being
must exist, and if then it must be necessary, then a necessary
being exists. But the argument does not proceed per se from
contingency to necessity.
There is a similarity to the fourth way inasmuch as the concept of perfection is employed as fundamental to the notion of
good. But there is no movement in the present argument from
degrees of perfection to an absolute perfection. Rather our
argument seeks to complete the very meaning of perfective
good, i.e., what is required for good to exist in actuality.
There is a similarity to St. Thomas's fifth way in that both
arguments appeal to a conscious intensionality beyond nature

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ARGUMENT

419

in order to account for some feature of the natural order of
things. But in the present argument the feature in question is
not teleological activity toward goals requiring a cosmic purposer, but rather a felt intrinsic goodness in things which needs
completion by conscious favor or appreciation. The fifth way
of Aquinas is something of an orphan in post-evolutionary
philosophy: the perfectological argument preserves at least one
strand of this way.
The present argument has a similarity to the ontological
argument in that the idea of perfection appears in both, and
both seek to complete a certain notion by appropriate explanation. But the perfection we are dealing with in our argument
is not the perfection of God, as in the ontological argument,
but rather the natural perfection of finite beings. And the
notion to be completed is not the idea of God as leading to the
existence of God but rather that of the reality of goodness as
leading to God. In this respect the argument is closer to the
cosmological than to the ontological type of reasoning.
There is a similarity to the teleological argument in that both
involve a movement of thought to a being of conscious intensionality which is most reasonably interpreted as purposeful.
But the starting point in the present case is not finite purpose
and order but rather valuational responses to the goodness of
being. 20
The perfectological argument is best classified perhaps as a
form of valuational argument. It proceeds from valuational
responses, though it also employs some concepts central to
other arguments.
DoNALD WALHOUT

Rockford College
Rockford, Illinois

20 The appeal
to conscious intensionality as explanation would seem to make
these arguments belong together logically in at least one respect, namely, that it
would seem to be incongruous to reject the present argument on the ground that
consciousness is not necessary to nonhuman good, and then to accept the teleological
argument on the ground that consciousness is necessary to nonhuman order.

ARISTOLE'S INCOMPLETE CAUSAL THEORY

I

N THIS STUDY I wish to show that in the Physics
Aristotle holds what in effect are two incompatible theses
as regards causality. These theses are (A) that actual
causes are simultaneous with their effects, and (B) that the
efficient cause of a thing's coming-to-be is identical with the
efficient cause of its being (existence). Further, I want to show
that as a result of his commitment to these incompatible dicta,
Aristotle's doctrine of causality is schematically or in its broad
outlines incomplete. And yet, it need not be such. For once
the inconsistency is removed by denying (B) , the way is then
cleared for making Aristotelian causal doctrine structurally
complete. Third, I shall contend that as a matter of fact it was
Aristotle's medieval disciple St. Thomas Aquinas who, while
retaining (A), both denied (B) and offered a positive prescription for completing the Philosopher's doctrine of causality.
Finally, I suggest that Aristotle's commitment to (B) is occasioned by his failure to keep clearly in mind the distinction
between a thing's essence and its act of existing.

I
In order to bring out clearly the incompatibility referred to,
I shall first spell out the precise meaning of efficient causality
in Aristotle. This is all the more necessary in view of the fact
that, since some scholars deny that Aristotle ever held (B) to
begin with/ they would deny that any inconsistency of the sort
being alleged here can be found in his thought. To help eluci1 In his The Doctrine of Being in The Aristotelian Metaphysics
(Toronto, 1963)
J. Owens, for example, says: "Efficient cause is introduced as a correlate of cllange,

not of Being. It is repeatedly characterized as ' that from which movement
originates.' No ground is given in the text for reading into it later notions like
·that which gives existence.'" (p. 193 n. 103)

420

ARISTOTLE's

INCOMPLETE

CAUSAL THEORY

421

date Aristotle's notion of efficient causality and at the same
time to see why some critics mistakingly deny that the Stagirite
upheld (B) we might answer the questions, (I) "What, according to Aristotle, is the function of an efficient cause?" and
(2) "What, generally speaking, is an efficient cause the efficient cause of for Aristotle?" To answer the first question, we
shall find, is automatically to answer the second question.
Aristotle identifies an efficient cause with the agent in any
change or coming-to-be. In his formal definition of the four
causes in the Physics he equates an efficient cause with the
source of change or coming to rest. 2 And the examples of efficient causes he gives there (or elsewhere) are agents in a
change. The man who gives advice is the efficient cause of
some change in the advisee, and the father is the efficient cause
of the child. In general, he says, efficient causes are " What
makes of what is made and what causes change in what is
changed." From this definition alone it is clear that Aristotle
views an efficient cause, as he views each of the other three
types of causes, as a necessary factor in the explanation of
change or becoming. If there is to be becoming at all, Aristotle
commonsensically insists, there must not only be something
which comes into being and something which becomes it, i.e.,
form and matter respectively, but also something which, by
working on the matter, makes a certain form come to be out of
the matter. Thus, by working on the building materials the
builder makes the form of a house come to be out of this
material.
Nor is it sufficient to define an efficient cause simply as that
which actualizes a given potentiality in a thing. For while it
is true that the builder qua building is actualizing the form
of a house which exists in a potential way in the building
materials, still, the potentiality of the builder to build is
itself actualized by the final cause according to Aristotle. 3 In
• See Physics, 194b 11. fl9-81.
• Aristotle holds that the final cause is the cause of the causality of the efficient
cause. See Metaphysics, Delta 1018b 11. 8-lfl.

JOHN PETERSON

fact, if the efficient cause causes fonn to come to be in matter
only because its own potentiality to do this is being actualized
by the final cause, then it follows that the final cause is logically
prior to the efficient cause when it comes to the mater of actualizing potentialities. To distinguish it from a final cause,
then, we must say that an efficient cause is that which actualizes a given potentiality in a thing for the sake of achieving
some end. But the end itself or the final cause does not actualize a potentiality in the efficient cause for the sake of some
end; rather, it is the end for the sake of which a given potentiality is being actualized by the efficient cause. Or, put differently, Aristotle's distinction between an efficient and a final
cause comes to this: an efficient cause is the source of change
in the sense of being the agent or" that by which" the change
takes place, whereas a final cause is the source of change in the
sense of being the end or " that for the sake of which " the
change takes place.
Given his own definition of an efficient cause then, and given
the fact that in a work on mobile being Aristotle first introduces
the four causes as necessary factors in the coming-to-be of
anything, it is undeniable that Aristotle viewed the function of
an efficient cause to be that of actualizing fonn in matter for
the sake of some end. But from this it follows that his answer
to the second question, viz., " What, generally speaking, is an
efficient cause the efficient cause of " ? can only be that an
efficient cause is the cause of the becoming of something and
not that it is the cause of the being or existence of something.
It is, then, with solid textual support that some scholars deny
that Aristotle ever held that an efficient cause is the cause of
a thing's being or existence to begin with. Hence, these critics
would rule out as groundless the sort of inconsistency here
being ascribed to Aristotle.
And yet, between what a philosopher by the logic of his own
position should say, and what in fact he does say, there is often
a gap. As human beings, even great systematic thinkers are at
times capable of making assumptions which compromise the
consistency of their thought. Specifically, and in the case in

ARISTOTLE's

INCOMPLETE

CAUSAL THEORY

4!23

question, from the fact that an efficient cause in Aristotle is
originally or even primarily viewed by the latter as being a
necessary factor in the explanation of the becoming, and hence
as being a cause of becoming, it does not follow that Aristotle
did not assume that an efficient cause was a cause of a thing's
being or existence as well. That it is just possible that Aristotle
made this asumption is indicated by the fact that, in the case
of formal and material causes at least, the Stagirite does indeed
hold that these are causes of a thing's being as well as of its
becoming. That Aristotle as a matter of fact assumed (B),
that he also held to (A) , and finally that (B) is incompatible
with (A) , shall now be shown.

II
After having drawn his famed four-fold distinction of the
types of causes in Chapter Three of Book Two of the Physics,
Aristotle goes on to make two further distinctions as regards
causality: he differentiates proper from incidental causes on
the one hand and actual from potential causes on the other.
Any of the four causes may be proper or incidental, actual or
potential. And proper or incidental causes may be either actual
or potential causes. Combining these last two sets of distinc·
tions and applying them to, say, efficient causality, it is possible to ask what the efficient cause of something's coming-to-be
is, say a statue, in four rather specific ways: (1) "What is the
efficient, proper and actual cause of the statue's coming-to-be? "
(2) "What is the efficient, proper and potential cause of the
statue's coming-to-be? " (3) "What is the efficient incidental
actual cause of the statue's coming-to-be?", and finally, (4)
"What is the efficient incidental potential cause of the statue's
coming-to-be?" The answers to these questions may be read,
respectively, as follows: (1) a sculptor sculpturing, (2) a
sculptor, (3) Phidias sculpturing and (4) Phidias.
It is clear from this example that the actual efficient cause
of anything's coming-to-be, be it a proper or an incidental
cause, is simultaneous with its effect. The sculptor sculpturing

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JOHN PETERSON

or Phidias sculpturing is simultaneous with the statue being
sculptured. Moreover, that Aristotle held that actual causes
in general are simultaneous with their effects or, in other words,
that he subscribed to (A) above is evident from his explicit
statement to that effect in Physics 195b 1.17-21.
That the Stagirite also adhered to (B) is no less clear. For,
as a matter of fact, Aristotle commonly cites as the efficient
cause of the being of a thing the very same thing he calls the
efficient cause of that thing's coming-to-be. For example, to the
questions " What is the proper efficient potential cause of the
coming-to-be of the house?" and" What is the proper effiicient
potential cause of the being of the house? " Aristotle would give
the same answer, namely, "housebuilder." This is clear from
Aristotle's explicit statement in the Physics to the effect that
the house builder is both the potential efficient cause of the house
being built 4 (or of the coming-to-be of the house) and also the
potential efficient cause of the house itself 5 (or of the being of
the house). Again, that Aristotle spoke of an efficient cause as
being the cause of thing's existence as well as of a thing's
becoming is evident from his account in the Physics of the
various causes of a statue. The Stagirite there tells us that the
art of the sculptor is the efficient cause of the statue qua statue
and not in virtue of anything else that it may be. 6 But clearly,
to say that the art of the sculptor is not the cause of the statue
qua bronze, qua tarnished, qua dusty, or qua anything else,
but that it is the cause of the statue only qua statue, is to
say that the art of the sculptor is the cause of the being (and
not in this case, the coming-to-be) of the statue. For unless a
statue already existed, it would be nonsense to distinguish
• In Physics, 195b ll. 4-6. Aristotle says: "llapa ?Tavra lie Kat ,.a, olKelws hf'}'op..€va. Ka.L -rO. KarCt crvK{3ef3TJK6s, ,.a, p.€v Ws Ovv6.p.eva AE')'eTa.t rCt. 8' Ws €vep"'(oDvra., olav
Toil olKoliop,e<crOat olKlav olKooop,os i/ olKoiJop,wv olKoiJ6p,os." (my italics)
lie TocrovTov, lln ,.a, p,ev
Kal. oVK lcrrt. Kal. Wv at·na-olov 88' 0
Kat lllie 0 olKoliOP,WV Tci>lie T4'> oiKo/Jop,oVp,EVOJ-Ta af:

• In Physics, 195b ll. 19-21. Aristotle says: "lita¢op«
€vep'Yofnrra KaL TO. Ka8'

iaTpEUWV Tci>oe Tci>

fip.a

KaTa cruvap,LV OVK aei. iJ.>OelpeTaL -yap ovx iJ.p,a "' otKla KaL 0 olKoi56p,os." (my italics)

• See Physics, 195a l. 5 fl'.

ARISTOTLE's

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the causes of it qua statue from the causes of it qua something
else that it may be. To distinguish the causes of the statue's
being brazen or the cause of its being tarnished from the causes
of it qua statue is to presuppose that the statue already exists.
It is, then, by noting textual evidence of this sort, I suppose,
that some observers conclude (as I do) that Aristotle viewed
an efficient cause as being the cause of a thing's existence as well
as of its coming-to-be. 7
But now, just because he identified causes of being with
causes of becoming in the case of potential efficient causes, are
we entitled to infer from this that Aristotle also made this
identification in the case of actual efficient causes? It seems
that we are indeed entitled to assume as much. For clearly, if
the potential proper efficient cause of the coming-to-be of a
house and the being of a house is one and the same thing,
namely, the housebuilder, (which Aristotle claims it is) then
the actual proper efficient cause of the coming-to-be of the
house and of the being of a house must also be one and the same
thing, namely, the housebuilder building. For since any potential efficient cause becomes an actual efficient cause only by
actualizing its potency, and since by Aristotle's own admission
the coming-to-be of a house and the being of a house have an
identical potential efficient cause (be it proper or incidental) ,
it follows that they must also have an identical actual efficient
cause. But if so, then Aristotle's view must necessarily have
been that not only are the potential causes of a thing's being
identical with the potential cause of a thing's coming-to-be,
but also that the actual causes of a thing's being are identical
with the actual causes of a thing's coming-to-be. In other
words, he must necessarily have subscribed to the general principle expressed in (B) .
And yet, if he did accept (B) , how can he reconcile this with
7 W. D. Ross, for example, says of Aristotle's four causes:
"We have, then, to
think of his 'causes ' as conditions necessary but not separately sufficient to
account for the existence of a thing .... " (See W. D. Ross. Aristotle: a complete
exposition of his works and thought (New York, 1959), p. 75. Needless to say,
Ross' view on this point conflicts with that of Owens.

426

JOHN PETERSON

his belief in (A) ? For if, following (B) , Aristotle holds that
the actual efficient cause of the being of a house is the housebuilder building, how can he simultaneously hold, as he does,
that actual causes are simultaneous with their effects, i.e., that
actual causes exist and do not exist simultaneously with the
existence and non-existence of their effects? For surely, though
it is true to say that housebuilder building and house being
built exist and do not exist simultaneously, it is never true to
say that housebuilder building and the house built exist and
do not exist simultaneously. So long as the housebuilder is
building the house does not exist, and the house exists after
the housebuilder building has ceased to exist. To the question,
then, as to how Aristotle could reconcile his belief of (B) with
his belief of (A) the answer is that he could not do so. And
yet, there can be no doubt that he clung to both (A) and (B)
in the Physics. 8
Now the effect of this exposed incompatibility is that it
leaves Aristotle's causal theory fundamentally incomplete. Specifically, it leaves unanswered the broad question as to what
is the actual efficient cause of a thing's being, as opposed to its
coming-to-be. For if the incompatibility in question is resolved,
as it must be, reasserting the truth of (A) but denying the
truth of (B), and if, further, we accept Aristotle's claim that
the actual efficient cause of the coming-to-be is the housebuilder
building, what can then be cited as the actual, efficient cause of
the being (existence) of the house? As we have seen, Aristotle's
own answer here is really no answer at all since it openly conflicts with the obvious truth of (A) , a thesis which Aristotle
himself surely could not and would not have abandoned. But
then, how shall this question be answered? Or, what comes to
the same thing, how shall the Aristotelian doctrine of causalitv
answer questions as to the actual efficient causes of the being
8 Nor is there any 1·eason to believe that Aristotle ever abandoned
either (A)
or (B) in later treatises. On the contrary, from his comment at Metaphysics A,
988a I. 84 we can only assume that Aristotle viewed his own treatment of the
fonr causes in the Physics as being quite complete and sufficient.

ARISTOTLE'S

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427

of things (and hence be made fundamentally complete) without running afoul of (A) or the principle that actual causes are
simultaneous with their effects?

III
Now as a matter of fact it was Aristotle's medieval commentator and disciple St. Thomas Aquinas who finally rounded
off and completed Aristotle's doctrine of causality in a way that
not only did not conflict with (A) but that also fully utilized
(A). For, unless I am mistaken, the starting point of the
medieval doctor's famed argument for the existence of God in
the De Ente et Essentia is that very question the answer to
which would bring the Aristotelian causal theory to completion.
Concretely, what Aquinas is asking for in the fourth chapter
of that work is the actual efficient cause of the being (esse) of
ordinary objects like houses, trees, men and statues. This is
evident from the very language of the proof. Aquinas is not
there asking what has caused or what can cause the act of
existing in ordinary things but what is causing this existence.
This is also obvious from the fact that he there rules out the
possibility of an infinite regress of causes. 9 And his conclusion
is that this cause can only be God, or more exactly, God conserving. The proof reads:
Now, whatever belongs to a being is either caused by the principles of its nature, as the capability of laughter in man, or it comes
to it from some extrinsic principle, as light in the air from the sun's
influence. But it is impossible that the act of existing be caused
by a thing's form or its quiddity, (I say caused by an efficient
9 Aquinas holds that in a causal series in which the various efficient causes and
their effects are not simultaneous an infinite regress of causes is possible. For
example, a man may be generated by another man and the latter by still another
man to infinity. But in a causal series in which efficient causes do not precede
their effects in time but are rather simultaneous with their effects an infinite regress
of causes is impossible according to him (see Summa Theologiae I, q. 46, a. 8, ad
7.) But only actual efficient causes exist and do not exist simultaneously with
their effects. Hence, if Aquinas rules ont the possibility of an infinite regress of
efficient causes in the argument in question it can only be because he is seeking the
actual efficient cause of the ease of ordinary things.

JOHN PETERSON

cause), for then something would be the cause of itself and would
bring itself into existence-which is impossible. Everything, then,
which is such that its act of existing is other than its nature must
needs have its act of existing from something else. And since every
being which exists through another is reduced, as to its first cause,
to one exising in virtue of itself, there must be some being which
is the cause of the existing of all things because it itself is the act
of existing alone. If that were not so, we would proceed to infinity
among causes, since, as we have said, every being which is not the
act of existing alone has a cause of its existence. Evidently, then,
an intelligence is form and act of existing, and it has its act of
existing from the First Being which is simply the act of existing.
This is the First Cause, God.10
Now since, following Aristotle, Aquinas holds that actual
causes exist and cease to exist simultaneously with their effects
(i. e., (A) above) he would insist that when God qua conserving an object ceases to be the object ceases to be ( and vice
versa) and that when God qua conserving an object exists the
object itself exists (and vice versa) . But unlike Aristotle,
Aquinas denied that the efficient cause of a thing's coming-tobe is identical with the efficient cause of its being (i.e., (B)
above), and in so doing he avoided the internal incompatibility
which marred the Stagirite's treatment of causality in the
Physics. At the same time, by avoiding this same inconsistency
Aquinas was then able to go on to give a genuine answer to a
question like " What is the actual efficient cause of the being
of an object? "-a question which could not be answered with
consistency, and hence which could not be answered at allby Aristotle himself. Thus, looked at from one point of view
this argument of Aquinas for God's existence can be seen as
being at once grounded in and as completing the Aristotelian
doctrine of causality. It is grounded in that causal doctrine in
the sense that, recognizing the distinction between actual and
potential causes and the simultaneity of actual causes with their
effects, it asks for the actual efficient cause of some mobile
thing's existence; and it completes that same doctrine in the
10 St. Thomas Aquinas, On Being and Essence, translated by A. Maurer (Garden
City Press Co-operative: Toronto, 1949).

ARISTOTLE's

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sense that it answers the Aristotelian question it asks in the
only way it can be answered, even though, as we have seen,
the same question received no such answer from Aristotle
himself.

IV
It remains only to show why Aristotle mistakingly assumed
that the efficient cause of a thing's being is indistinguishable
from the efficient cause of its becoming. One factor which may
have contributed to his making this assumption can be traced
to Aristotle's own acute analysis of becoming in Book One of
the Phy8ics,-an analysis, by the way, which immediately precedes his celebrated discussion of causality. For in the first
Book of the Physics Aristotle states that the principles or
causes of a mobile thing's being or nature are in matter and
form. These are the elements in the definition of a mobile thing.
But this is so only because the mobile thing in question has
come to be from matter and form. For a necessary condition
for something's having come to be, according to Aristotle, is
that it share a common element with that from which it has
come to be. This, of course, is the thing's matter. And a further
necessary condition for something's having come to be for
Aristotle is that the form which that thing acquires be already
present, albeit potentially, in the object which undergoes the
change. For example, the statue which has come to be not only
shares matter (say bronze) with that from which it has come
to be, but it also in a sense shares form with that form which
it has come to be. For, before it actually comes to be, the form
of a certain statue exists potentially in the bronze. Hence,
Aristotle urges, whatever comes to be must come to be from
form and matter both. But since the form and matter from
which a thing comes must be both essentially present in the
thing once it has come to be (otherwise, there could have been
no change), it follows that the principles or causes of a mobile
thing's being or nature are identical with the principles or
causes of its becoming. Aristotle even voices this conclusion
quite explicitly:

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JOHN PETERSON

Plainly then, if there are conditions and principles which constitute natural objects and from which they primarily are or have
come to be-have come to be, I mean, what each is said to be
in its essential nature, not what each is in respect of a concomitant
attribute-plainly, I say, everything comes to be from both subject
and form.... 11
There can be no doubt, then, that Aristotle identifies the
material and formal causes of a thing's being with the material
and formal causes of its becoming. Nor is there any reason to
suspect that Aquinas would disagree with this identification.
But it cannot be assumed that just because the distinction between causes of being and causes of becoming collapses in the
cases of formal and material causes that it also collapses in the
case of an efficient cause. And it appears that Aristotle was
lulled into drawing this (to him) all-too-easy inference in the
Physics. But that the assumption in question is false is shown
most readily by the fact that it conflicts with (A) , the truth
of which, to repeat, Aristotle himself explicitly recognizes.
And yet, if Aristotle did pass illegitimately from the identity
of causes of being and causes of becoming in formal and
material causes to that same identity in efficient causes, was not
this invalid inference on his part really symptomatic of a much
deeper, if less formal, flaw in his thought? More specifically,
if, as is commonly held, what more than anything else marks
off the Thomistic from the Aristotelian metaphysics is the
former's investigation of and emphasis on the essence-existence
distinction, then it is not at all surprising that Aquinas did
whereas Aristotle did not refrain from making the erroneous
assumption in question, namely, that the efficient cause of a
thing's becoming is identical with the efficient cause of its
being ((B) above). What I am suggesting is that Aquinas
more than Aristotle must have been aware of the shift in meaning of the word " being " in the expressions, " formal cause
of a thing's being" and "material cause of a thing's being"
on the one hand, and "efficient cause of a thing's being" on
11

Physics, 190b. II.

ARISTOTLE'S

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431

the other. In the first two expressions " being" has the sense
of " essence," whereas in the third phrase " being " has the
sense of "existence." Formal and material causes are causes
or principles of a thing's essence but not of a thing's existence,
while efficient causes are causes of a thing's existence but not
of a thing's essence. Now this sensitivity to the essence-existence distinction on the part of Aquinas would just in and of
itself have served as a warning signal against inferring from the
fact that causes of being and causes of becoming are identical
in formal and material causes that they are also identical in
moving or efficient causes. For to begin with, it is not the same
sense of" being" that is being talked about each time. This is
not to deny, of course, that Aristotle is totally unaware of the
distinction between a thing's nature and its existence. 12 Indeed, since he holds that a mobile object's essence or nature is
entirely definable in terms of its material and formal constituents, Aristotle could only have meant by saying that something or other was the efficient cause of some object that it was
the efficient cause of the existence of that object. Still, it is
just because his awareness of the essence-existence distinction
is always implicit instead of explicit, always vague instead of
precise, that he is at times capable of obscuring that distinction
altogether. In most cases, I suspect, the effect of this obscurity
is ontological incompleteness alone, but in the case of his analysis of efficient causality Aristotle reaps for his blur the dual
evils of inconsistency and incompleteness. As I have tried to
show here, it is because (A) and (B) above are inconsistent
that Aristotle's causal theory is rendered schematically incomplete as well. But what led Aristotle to pronounce (B) to
begin with was his failure to keep clearly in mind the distinction between being in the sense of nature and being in the
sense of existence. To conclude with a touch of irony, if we
can say with Aristotle that the questionable ontological con12 Still less is this to imply that
Aristotle was unaware of the thoroughly
equivocal nature of being even within the order of essence. A single reading of the
Metaphysics would quickly dispel any such notion.

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JOHN PETERSON

elusions of some of the Pre-Socratic philosophers issue from
their vague conceptions of the four causes, we can also say
of Aristotle that his specific error of identifying causes of becoming with causes of being in efficient causes can be traced
to an equally vague awareness on his own part of the essenceexistence distinction.
JOHN PETERSON

University of Rhode Island
Kingston, Rhode Island

SUAREZ'S STRUGGLE WITH THE PROBLEM OF THE
ONE AND THE MANY

F

RANCISCUS SUAREZ WAS a man of his time and a
theologian. This explains his peculiar position with
respect to the unity and the analogy of the concept of
ens. The uproaring optimism generated by a series of striking
scientific achievements based on inductive empirical methods
had indeed restored to the individual the kind of relevance
that Aristotle and St. Thomas had reserved exclusively for
the universals: the status of being the object of knowledge.
On the other hand, Philosophy itself, engaged in a trend initiated by William of Ockham in the fourteenth century, was
following suit and trying to cope with the new epistemological
facts. No philosopher could feel at ease with old-fashioned
metaphysical conceptions any more. Philosophical thought,
one might say, was already bound in the direction of empiricism, and Theology, which seemed to need the old metaphysics,
was losing ground.
Suarez could not be an exception, except on one count. He
became fascinated by the individual-oriented epistemologies
and by the inductive kind of abstraction which were in vogue,
but at the same time he could not go along with the mounting
disrespect for analogy and metaphysics. He undertook, therefore, to reconcile both trends in one theory. The concern could
not be more legitimate, but was it going to lead to a successful
solution? This is the problem that we must tackle. But it
would be unfair to blame him if he were not to succeed, as we
cannot ignore that his self-imposed task was a monumental
one.

I.
Suarez's conception of the universals is paramount in order
to fully understand his stand with regard to the " objective
433

434

FRANCISCO

L. PECCORINI

concept " which in turn is the key to his position on the
univocity of the concept of ens. Ultimately, indeed, the solution to his puzzling reconciliation between the simplicity of the
ontological concept and its analogy will have to be found in
his conception of the process of universalization, which applies
to the formation of the concept of ens as well.
Now, his whole theory on the universals rests on three main
tenets: (1) "Essence" and "Haecceity" are distinguished
"formally," but not "ex natura rei"; (2) in forming the universals the mind works on some antecedent basis provided by
the things themselves, on account of which the things may be
said on their own part to be universal " in potency " and thus
give rise to the mental operation whereby universals are actually created; (3) it being well understood, though, that the
disposition to be in many things, that the mind recognizes in
the universal, is nothing in the nature, insofar as it exists on
the part of the things, and does not belong to the common
nature of itself prior to the understanding's operation; it is only
a certain indifference or non-repugnance which has its basis in
the nature of itself but does not actually belong to it except
insofar as it undergoes the abstraction of the intellect.
As can easily be seen, therefore, by means of (1) Suarez rejects the " Common nature " which served as the justification
of the objectivity of universal conceptions in Scotus's theory,
whereas the proofs of (2) and (3) enable him to show that
such objectivity is not impaired by his own approach. Yet,
one might wonder whether it was necessary for him to go
through such an elaborate account to salvage the objectivity
of the universals, if a much easier explanation had already been
made available by St. Thomas Aquinas without resorting to
the " common nature." But we should not forget that, having
defended the direct intelligibility of the individual and curtailed
the role of the agent intellect to the size of a mere picturing
job, it was absolutely impossible for him to go thomist in the
theory of abstraction. We must, therefore, take Suarez's epistemology as it is and confine our efforts to evaluate its explanatory power.

SUAREz's

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435

A. As for " essence " and " haecceity " being " formally "
but not " ex natura rei " distinct, here is the problem as Suarez
saw it. He realizes that both Thomists and Scotists agree,
"teaching that a formal unity, in some way distinct from
numerical unity, is to be found in real things," 1 but he is
not less aware of the disagreement among the aforementioned
authors as to the way of explaining this formal unity. Their
disagreement reduces to two main issues: 1) whereas the
Thomists hold that the formal unity of nature can only be
distinguished from the numerical unity of the individual by
reason, the Scotists maintain that they differ from each other
also "ex natura rei" ; 2) " Secondly, they [the two bands J
differ in that Scotus does not think this formal unity or the
nature considered as having this formal unity, is multiplied
in the individuals themselves, but that all the individuals of
the same nature have one and the same formal unity, one (I
say), not only mentally but really; or that the nature insofar
as it really exists in many individuals, has only one formal
unity." 2
Concerning this peculiar discussion Suarez does not hesitate
to go along with the Thomists. He maintains, with them, that
in Peter, for instance, there is a formal or essential unity in
addition to his numerical unity, and that this would be so even
if no one ever thought of Peter and of these two unities of his.
The reason is that to any kind of real distinction there must
correspond a real kind of unity, since " unity " means " lack
of division." Peter, for instance, is numerically one because he
is not really different from himself, but he is not numerically
one with John and Andrew, because he is really distinct from
them. Now, insofar as Peter is a man, he is not really different
from John and from Andrew. Therefore, in Peter, John, and
Andrew there is a formal unity which is the unity of their es1 Disputationes Metaphysicae, VI, s. I, n.
in Franciscus Suarez, On Formal and
Universal Unity, translated with an Introduction by J. F. Ross (Milwaukee:
Marquette University Press, 1964), p.
p. 30.
• DM, VI, s. I, n.

436

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L. PECCORINI

sence.3 This, of course, does not mean that in Peter the formal
and the numerical unities are really different from each other.
The foregoing argument bears out no more than a distinction
of reason between these two unities of Peter's. They are conceptually distinct because formal unity belongs to the concept
of the essence, whereas individual unity does not. In other
words, it is possible to conceive the essence without the individual unity, but not without the formal one. 4 On the other
hand, positive reasons forbid Suarez to further emphasize such
a distinction. For one thing, he says, formal and individual
unities cannot be distinguished ex natura tei, since, the essence
and the individual that they respectively " unify " are not
really distinct from each other. This assumption, of course, was
a real point of rally for all philosophers of his time. No one,
indeed, would have dared to hold that an essence can exist
apart from an individual in which it would be " individualized." 5 This is tantamount to saying that, despite their formal
unities, existent essences are entirely incommunicable and that,
since they retain their formal unities throughout their existence,
the formal unities themselves are incommunicable too. 6 This is
a basic conclusion. It does away with the "common natures"
and thereby sets Suarez against the second part of Scotus's
position, according to which, as pointed out by Suarez himself
in the statement of the problem, "the nature considered as
having this formal unity is [not] multiplied in the individuals
themselves." We are, therefore, left only with the via similitudinis as a real foundation for the universalizing process:
". . . it is one thing to speak of formal unity and another to
speak of the community of this unity . . . no unity which is
found in reality is common ... , but there is in singular things
3 Ibid., n. 8; pp. 88-84.
• Ibid., n. 9; p. 84.
5 Ibid., n. 10; p. 84.
• Ibid., n. 11; p. 85: "Thirdly, whatever exists on the part of the thing is

singular, and consequently incommunicable ... ; but this unity is real and exists
in its own way on the part of the thing . . . ; therefore it is singular; therefore it :S
not common in reality."

SUAREZ'S

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437

a certain similarity in their formal unities on which the community which the intellect can attribute to such a nature as
it is conceived, is based." 7
Now we can determine in what sense it is possible to say
that the remote foundation of the universals is given by reality
itself. The problem reduces to these two questions: How can
reality provide us with the remote foundation for the element
of unity which is included in a universal nature? How can it
provide us with the element " communicability " which characterizes universals? Suarez thinks that the necessary condition
to conceive " one " nature is to form in our minds " a notion
or basic similarity." 8 As he himself put it: "several things are
said to be of the same nature either by their identity in notion
or by the fundamental unity which consists in similarity." 9
But, since in order to form such a common notion or basic
similarity "the formal unity, which the nature has in any individual whatever along with the similarity of all such unities
among themselves is enough," 10 it follows that the basic condition for the conception of " one " nature is the formal unity
that we met with before. Indeed, " it arises from this that the
intellect conceives and defines that formal notion in one common concept." 11 Yet, if we considered this basic similarity
alone, we would never be able to come up with the conception
of that nature as being "communicable," " ... for although
the specific nature may not be further divisible through essential divisions, it is nevertheless divisible further through
individual differences, and in each individual it has its formal
unity, distinct from that which it has in others; and this suffices
that such unity cannot be common in reality." 12 Consequently,
the formal unity is a necessary condition but not a sufficient
one, " for the essence precedes in the thing but not indeed with
respect to that condition, namely, community which the nature
demands in order for us to define it; for this is had solely
Ibid., n. 12; p. 36.
Ibid., n. 15; p. 38.
• Ibid., n. 13; p. 36.
7

8

10 Ibid.
11Ibid.
10 Ibid., n. 14; p. 37.

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through the thinking of the mind." 18 In other words, the consideration of the formal unity is enough to form the concept
of a nature but not to define it. For this, the mind must add a
logical step. However, in so doing it needs only take another
look at the same basic similarity from another vantage point.
For when the mind realizes that it is not repugnant for the same
nature to multiply itself in an incommunicable manner many
times in as many individuals, and that, on the other hand, it
would be absurd " that those things which share that formal
unity should not be alike in it and agree among themselves," u
then we manage to conceive that nature as being communicable
and universal.
B. It is safe, therefore, to say that according to Suarez
there is no real distinction between the essence and the haecceity in the same individual, although the essence keeps its
own formal unity while it gets multiplied and individualized in
its inferiors. Furthermore, as we just saw in the foregoing
section, it is in virtue of the formal unity that reality can be
said to provide the basis for the universalizing process of the
mind. In this sense we must add that the intellect finds somewhere a true "universal-in-potency" on which it works when
it creates the " universal-in-act." And yet, since formal unitywhich is the steady signal on which the mind must keep an
eye-can be considered at different levels, a further and more
accurate determination of the "universal-in-potency" is needed.
Suarez understood it perfectly well. " Again," he wrote, " if
by 'universal-in-potency'
one means, whatever does not
have actual universality explained in the mentioned manner
[namely, as it shows up in the intellect], but does, however,
furnish a basis to the intellect for its conceiving or imagining
it, it is thus also certain that the "universal-in-potency'
is
found in reality, since some basis is given in things for the
abstraction or universal conception, which the intellect produces. But of what kind is this basis? For in this is the point
Ibid.
"Ibid.

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of controversy." 15 Is it the formal unity as it is considered
at the physical level, we might ask paraphrasing his question,
or rather as it is envisaged at the metaphysical or at the logical
levels? The mere possibility of these alternatives already suggests and outlines the three historical positions that Suarez
is about to examine and evaluate.
1. Against Scotus, he flatly denies that the universal-inpotency is some universality which of itself and really belongs
to the essence as it is prior in nature to its inferiors which
contract it. According to this view, the formal unity of "man,"
for instance, is certainly not separated from Peter, John, and
Andrew, and nevertheless it is common to them in the sense
that Peter, John, and Andrew do not possess individualized
formal unities of man but rather share in the only one that
there is. As it is found in its inferiors, therefore, a nature
expresses, in addition to its formal unity or negation of division
in itself, indifference and community with regard to many
things. And thus this universality, although with regard to the
universal-in-act
"it is called dispositional or fundamental,
nevertheless, with regard to the singularity or the individuation of the nature is true real and actual universality." 16
Suarez does not deny probability to this position. He even presents the arguments in its support in full light, according to his
custom. He understands its patrons to reason like this: " ... human nature of itself is not incommunicable, otherwise it could not
be numericaly multiplied; therefore it is communicable; between
the communicable and the incommunicable no medium is found
with respect to the same nature, for they are contradictory opposites." 17 Therefore " the fact that it is communicable to many,
it also has of itself; therefore, of itself and prior to every intellect it is one ' in many and of many,' in which the notion
universality consists, as Aristotle writes, Post., text fl5; therefore the nature has of itself and in the things themselves some
15 Ibid., n. 5; p. 42.
'"Ibid.
17 Ibid.

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universality, which is its real property, and not merely of reason." 18 Furthermore, they add, since a nature is not of itseH
" this " and individual, and however exists only as " this " and
individual, it follows that it not only is disposed to be contracted through individuating principles but positively requires
them. And, since this disposition cannot be fitted only to the
individuating principles of this particular individual, because
" such a nature is not adequately contractible through one
individual difference alone-indeed this is repugnant to it; therefore, this repugnance, which such a nature has to being contracted to one single individual, is based upon the natural
disposition which it has to being in many things; this disposition therefore really belongs to it of itself." 19
But, to grant probability to a position is one thing, and to
agree with it another quite different one. And Suarez certainly
does not agree with Scotus's position. What he most abhors in
it is the fact that it identifies the " formal unity " of the nature
with its "universal unity." This leads him to state that (I)
formal unity is different from universal unity-to use his own
words: " ... the two things which we proposed in the title
of the question must be made clear; first, in what way the unity
which is necessary to the universality of nature differs from
formal unity "-; and he is led to this conclusion precisely because he must state also that (II) the disposition for being in
many things, which is essential to universal unity, is not included in formal unity-or, as he puts it: "secondly, how the
disposition to being in many things accrues to a nature which
is thus one"-, which carries with it the following conclusion,
namely, that (III) the universality of the nature cannot be
found in the things themselves-which is what the following
quotation amounts to: "From these there is established a
third, specifically, the manner in which the universality of the
nature cannot be found in the things themselves." 20
Ibid.
Ibid., n. 6; pp. 4fl-43.
20 Ibid., n. 9; p. 44.

18

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In order to prove the first two statements, in which the core
of his reasoning lies, he must first carefully establish the
notions involved. We know already that formal unity means
undividedness in itself. As for universal unity, he assumes with
Aristotle that the nature of universality as such consists in two
things, namely, in unity and in communicability. "For, if the
nature were not in some way one, then it would not be universal at all, but would be a multitude or aggregate of things;
if, however, it were not disposed to be in many, it would not be
universal, but singular; and it is indeed necessary that it be
in many things in a maner opposed to singularity or individuality, that is, that it be in many inferiors which can be multiplied
and ennumerated under this common notion. Therefore, these
two, unity and community, are to be explained in such a way
that it will be clear that the aspect peculiarly constitutive of
the universal is not to be found in things apart from the intellect." 21 Now, given his previous thesis, whereby it was shown
that formal unity gets individualized in the inferiors, it is easy
for him to prove " that formal unity of itself alone is not enough
for the unity which the universal nature, insofar as it is universal requires and is accorded, but that another and greater
unity is required." 22 It is enough for him to remind his reader
of the double fact that formal unity is multiplied in the individuals with the nature itself, whereas the unity which is
peculiar to the universal nature as universal cannot be multiplied in inferiors, and that therefore the universal nature as
such has another kind of unity besides formal unity. But he
adds another argument which is independent of his own position regarding the multiplication of the formal unity in the
inferiors: "So I argue thirdly, that since formal unity bespeaks
only the formal or essential undividedness of that thing which
is thus said to be one, it is thus irrelevant to that unity whether
the thing be singular or common; but universal unity indeed,
intrinsically, bespeaks undividedness of several things in that
21 Ibid.
•• Ibid., n. 10; p. 44.

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thing or aspect which is denominated universally one, so that
none of those inferiors which are contained under such a notion,
taken by itself has that whole universal unity, but all the things
are one under that notion." 23 In replying to an objection, he
brings out the basic misunderstanding of his opponent, namely,
the confusion between the mere compatibility of a nature with
its multiplication, and its actual demand for communication.
The latter, he says, is given to that nature only through a
mental operation.
fl. The second alternative that he considers and rejects contemplates the nature at the metaphysical level and dubs it at
that point a true universal. It holds "that the nature existing
in individuals is not actually universal, but nevertheless by no
means derives its being universal from the intellect alone but
rather is actually universal of itself and prior to any operation
of the intellect and prior to any contraction to individuals, and
moreover, prior to any existence whether in the intellect or
in fact itself." 24 This position, which was held by Fonseca, he
rejects for the same reasons that lead him to embrace the third
alternative which is left.
3. The third opinion, which, as he puts it, " is the common
opinion of the ancient and the modern philosophers," holds
" that natures become actually universal only through the
operation of the intellect, although there is some antecedent
basis on the part of the things themselves on account of which
the things may be said on their own part to be universal in
potency." 25 He traces it, not only to St. Thomas and Aristotle
but also to Avicenna, who made it famous by his rejection of
the middle position through his immortal saying: " Horseness
of itself is merely horseness, not one or many." By the way,
Suarez himself had already picked up this suggestion on the
occasion of his proving that formal unity and, therefore, the
nature itself as considered at the metaphysical level cannot be
•• Ibid., n. 10; p. 45.
•• Ibid., n. 7; p. 43.
•• Ibid., n. 8; pp. 43-44.

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a universal unity, because "since formal unity," as he then
said, " bespeaks only the formal or essential undividedness of
that thing which is thus said to be one, it is thus irrelevant
to that unity whether the thing be singular or common; but
universal unity indeed, intrinsically, bespeaks undividedness
of several things in that thing or aspect which is denominated
universally one, so that none of those inferiors which are contained under such a notion taken by itself has that whole universal unity, but all the things are one under that notion." 26
This leaves him with the following valuable result: in real
things there are only two kinds of unity, namely, numerical
unity, which is the negation of universality, and formal unity,
which does not measure up to the qualifications a true universal unity should have. This, of course, entitles him to
harvest as a simple corollary the truth of the third position.
" On the basis of the preceding," we can read in his Disputatio
VI, " I say secondly that the unity of the universal nature, as
universal, is not real, nor is it in things in so far as they exist
in reality itself and precede every operation of the understanding." 27
Against the semblance of unity that some philosophers see
in the individuals as such, he has a rather strong rebuttal. He
points out that "this is not really unity, but merely similarity;
for nothing is truly one and undivided in reality ... in this and
in that human nature, but there is merely something in this
one to which something is similar in the other nature . . .
Whence, several things can be called, on the part of the thing,
' of the same nature,' that is, alike; for when this identity is
said to obtain between distinct things, it cannot in fact be
anything beyond a similarity, by reason of which they are also
said to share or to have the same definition, fundamentally indeed by reason of the mentioned similarities, formally, however,
through reason, for definition is the work of reason." 28 Besides,
•• Ibid., n. 9; p. 45.
21 Ibid., n. 13; p. 47. See also n. 15; pp. 48-49.
•• Ibid., n. 13; pp. 47-48.

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he says, the relation of similarity is neither necessary nor
sufficient to the actual constitution of the universal as such. It
would be necessary only if the notion of universal called for
the actual existence of this in many things, but, as he holds
against St. Thomas, " the natures of heaven and of Gabriel are
universals, whether several of those individuals exist in reality
having the aforementioned similarity or not." 29 It is not
sufficient, either, for two reasons. First, " because by force of
that similarity taken all alone, whether in act or in potency,
nothing is conceived as one thing common to many, but many
things are conceived as alike among themselves"; and, secondly, because" the universal, as universal, is conceived as actually
undivided, insofar as it is such, and as dispositionally divisible
and communicable; however, things insofar as they are really
similar in nature, are actually divided and dispositionally or
fundamentally' unifiable' (as I say) in one nature universally
conceived." 30 The only use that such a similarity can offer concerning universality is that it makes it possible for us to understand that nature as common.
C. We know at this point that the " oneness " proper to the
universal remotely comes from the formal unity which is found
even at the physical level. We know also that the element
" communicability " must be provided by the intellect, although in this task it is guided by reality itself. The question
now remains as to what is the essence of that disposition to be
in many things, in which communicability consists.
First of all, says Suarez, it is nothing in the nature insofar as
this exists on the part of the things. This, of course, was to
be expected, " because on the part of the thing there is nothing
except what is singular and individual, and in the singulars
themselves, nothing is distinct from them ex natura rei. In the
nature, therefore, insofar as it exists on the part of the thing,
there can be no disposition for being in many things." 81 But
29 Ibid., n. 14; p. 48.
•• Ibid.
81 Ibid., s. IV, n. 2; p. 59. See also nn. 3 and 5.

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he points out that neither does the disposition to have existence
in many things belong to the common nature of itself and prior
to the work of the understanding. He rejects this opinion outright because its patrons cannot think of this disposition except as being a certain postive mode that belongs to the nature
of its own right and in virtue of which it is not repugnant for
that nature to be in many things at the same time. "Yet,"
they say, "this mode is not actual, but potential, that is, such
that it cannot belong to a nature which is actually existing but
only to a nature in potency or to one existing objectively. By
which it also happens that such a mode is not entirely inseparable from the nature, but rather separable, since the nature
when actually existing does not have such a disposition or such
a mode of being." 32 It would not be contained within the
ambit of real beings, he says, since it would be something with
which the act of being is entirely incompatible. In other words,
he cannot understand how, being a " positive " mode of the
nature as such, it could not filter through to the very individuals themselves.
As a conclusion, he is led to posit that disposition as being
only a certain indifference or non-repugnance which has its
basis in the nature itself but does not actually belong to that
nature except insofar as the latter undergoes the intellectual
abstraction. This position is the necessary outgrowth of his
understanding "non-repugnance to being in many" (communicability) in its capacity as the contradictory opposite of
" repugnance to doing so." Based on this insight he argues as
follows: ". . . repugnance to being in many things belongs to
an existing nature by reason of the individual difference; there ..
fore for a nature to be disposed to being in many things through
non-repugnance is nothing else than to be disposed to existing
in many things through abstraction or isolation from every
individual difference." 33 On the other hand, before the nature
reaches the logical level it is not cut off yet from its individual
•• Ibid., n. 6; p. 63.
•• Ibid., n. 11; p. 67.

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differences, since even at the metaphysical level it still remains
indifferent to be identified with this or that particular inferior. 34
But we should add that, in his view, this does not prevent
us from saying that, even if no one thought of it, there still
would be many individual men and many individual dogs,
because "the disposition to be in many things is fundamentally
and remotely in things themselves (not, however, proximately), insofar as it expresses the indifference and indeterminacy
of the common nature to one thing .... " 35 Suarez, though, is
very careful in determining the way in which the remote basis
of such disposition of universality is found in the nature itself.
For one thing, he says, " this property is not some disposition
of the common nature as such, which is understood as a certain
potency capable of actualization through several differences,"
or as a disposition or potency belonging to the nature existing
in things, such that it " is removed under an act in behalf of
others." 36 In other words, it is not a positive potency which
can be actuated by many acts but only successively and by an
act at a time, as a piece of iron can in turns be hot or cold,
because then we would have only one common nature in reality
and that common nature would not even be common to a crowd
of things but rather to a temporal series of individuals. It goes
without saying-and Suarez does not even bother to point it
out-that it cannot be a positive "essential" of that nature,
because if it were so, it would have to be found in reality
and we would have the troublesome " subsistent universal as
such " once again. The only way of speaking of a property
which is both in the nature itself and of some service to the universalizing process of the mind consists in positing it as a
purely " negative " essential property which as such would
still be able to filter throught to the individuals without
jeopardizing their individuality and without impairing the actual multiplication of individuals within the same species. To
•• Ibid.
Ibid., n. l!l; p. 68.
•• Ibid.

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put it in Suarez's words, we must consider it as" a limitation or
a condition of things which are such that they include nothing
in their own being by reason of which it is repugnant to them
to have other things like them or equal to them in perfection." 87
As a result, the Eximius Doctor can add: "this basis of indifference or non-repugnance is not to be imagined only in the
common nature by itself, but in the individuals themselves and
in singular things since, granted that the nature is determined
in each individual to that individual alone, it is, nevertheless,
in that thing in such a way that it is not by force of that
repugnant that it be in another like thing or, rather, that a
similar nature be in another individual; and this alone is a
sufficient foundation for the indifference and disposition to have
being in many things which belongs to the common nature as
abstracted through the intellect; there is not some indetermination which the nature itself has by itself or in individuals." 38 In other words, the mind has a perfect guide in the
formal unity that individual things show to it, and this is so
despite the fact that formal unity, considered at the physical
level, is " incommunicable." The reason for this is that the
incommunicability the formal unity puts on at the physical
level comes, not from itself, but rather from numerical unity.
" Although the whole nature," says Suarez, " along with the
formal unity which is in the individual is incommunicable, and
although it is repugnant for it to be in many things, nonetheless
it does not have the repugnance by virtue of the formal unity
of the nature but by virtue of the individuation." 39

n.
What Suarez is doing, of course, is struggling desperately to
find an account of the universals without at the same time and
in the process indulging in the recognition of a real parallelism
between the abstract and the concrete orders. This, on the
•• Ibid.
•• Ibid.
•• Ibid., n. 10; p. 66.

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other hand, is nothing else but the natural outcome of his
basic nominalism. It was bound to happen once the first mental
operation had been posited as a mere spiritual picturing of the
individual as such. Where there is no " objective abstraction "
of the agent intellect and no " apprehensive abstraction " of
the possible mind (to use Lonergan's enlightening terminology), the universality of the nature could not be" read" in the
phantasm through a reflexive " formative abstraction " but had
to be effected altogether by the formative abstraction alone, and
thus, any continuity between the " id quod " of the universal
as such and the individual reality had to be torn down. But
this approach cannot help but lead to insoluble difficulties. For
one thing, Suarez is forced to asert some features that really do
not fit in the whole of his explanation, thereby turning the
latter into an ineffective account. It is true, for instance, that
the Eximius attributes to the formal unity-even as it is found
in the individuals-a guiding virtue concerning the universalizing task of the intellect. This is so, because the only clue that
our mind has immediately available for its work of universalization is the non-repugnance of the nature to be in many individuals at the same time. Now, the latter, which is inseparable
from the formal unity of the same nature, is made accessible
to us only through the concepts of the individuals, which are
the only direct concepts that Suarez allows to us. Of course, he
explains that these concepts can still do the job, inasmuch
as the individuals that they represent do retain their formal
unity intact along with the incommunicability of their individualized essence because such incommunicability accrues to them
from their numerical unity and not from their formal unity.
But then the question arises: of what use is this to the intellect if there is no way for it to perform an apprehensive abstraction of the form and its unity? Suarez is forced to posit the
concept of the nature as a mere representation of the " likeness " of things obtained by comparing many individuals among
themselves. But then, the same difficulty reappears. For those
individuals, that we are supposed to know in an intelligible way,
can be known to us only as individuals, not as endowed with

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this form and with this formal unity, since we are denied a
direct concept of their essence. How, then, can we discern
which likenesses, in them, are purely accidental and which ones
are really essential? Not to mention that the very notion of
" likeness," which is essential to the comparative process that
Suarez hangs on, cannot be accounted for within a nominalistic
epistemology such as that of Suarez. We are left with the following disappointing balance: the very formative abstraction or
" positive " disregard for all individuations-which, as Suarez
pointed out so rightly, is essential to the constitution of universal unity-is thereby made impossible to the extent that we
never can know whether we have really done away with the
true individual differences.
It would seem, therefore, that the reference to the remote
foundation provided by the negative disposition shown by the
formal unity amounts, purely and simply, to a mere lip tribute
to the moderate realism of the Angelic Doctor. For, if we look
into it more closely, a real dilemma faces Suarez on this count.
Indeed, either the grasping of this disposition is carried out
through a true apprehensive abstraction, or not so. If it is
the result of a real abstraction, then it makes sense to say that
it contributes to make fully intelligible the universality of the
nature, but, by the same token, it belies Suarez's nominalistic
epistemology; if, on the other hand, it is not dependent on an
apprehensive abstraction, then it is useless and totally unrelated
to formative abstraction, which then would proceed entirely on
the basis of particular concepts compared among themselves,
with all the problems and riddles that this entails. In that
case the reference to the negative disposition would be a pure
show of allegiance to Aquinas. Again, if the first horn of the
dilemma were to be favored, then what Suarez is saying would
not differ too much from what the supporters of the disposition as found in the nature in itself are saying. After all, what
the mind sees when it realizes that through abstraction it has
isolated the nature is precisely that disposition inasmuch as
from now on it is " fully unobstructed," and it sees it in the
nature in itself. Of course, it does not see that disposition as

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an "essential mark " but only as an " essential property " of
that nature, nor does it detect the universality of the nature
until it relates it to the possible many, which cannot happen
except at the logical level where the mind reflects on such a disposition. Perhaps if we draw a distinction between an essential
or potential universality-the universality in potency, which is
rooted in the essence itself-and an existential or actual univerality-the universal as a real object of thought " existing" in
the mind alone, we would be able to dissipate the Suarezian
reluctance to grant that disposition to the essence in its absolute state. Unless we do so, it is difficult to see how an abysmal
gap between abstract knowledge and concrete reality could
be avoided. Because, how could the mind give a universal existence to a nature if the same nature were not already universalizable of its own and if it could not be isolated as such in the
individual through abstraction? Idealism, therefore, haunts
Suarez's nominalism as it threatens that of Ockham. 40
40 See Joseph Marechal, Le point de depart de la metaphysique,
(Paris: Desclee·
De Brouwer, 1964), I, pp. 11!2-115: "Ce n'est plus ici une abstraction naturelle et
primitive, operee immediatement sur le sensible par le seul fait de l'immaterialite de
.. . ; c'est, des l'abord et exclusivement, nne abstraction
l'agent intellectuel;
reflechie ... : c'est une induction proprement dite ... Et c'est done une operation
qui, bien loin de jaillir de la rencontre meme des conditions ontologiques respectives
du sujet et de l'objet, procede au contraire d'une initiative subjective, toujours
insuffisament controlee par la comparaison des perceptions singulieres. Des lors, le
probleme de la valeur objective des abstractions intellectuelles en vient a dependre
tout entiere du probleme de la valeur objective des inductions incompletes ... II
[le realiste] ferait observer d'abord qu'une induction generique ou specifique est
toujours incomplete, et qu'ici, n'etant pas fondee sur !'abstraction directe d'un type
naturel, elle ne marquera jamais de limite certaine entre l'individu et l'espece; car
elle garde, si poussee qu'on la suppose, une part inevitable d'arbitraire. En efiet,
supposons les concepts individuels a, b, c, d, .... J'en abstrais !'element common,
on dirait presque 'le plus grand commun diviser,' m. Que represente m? Un point
de vne subjectif, qui groupe a, b, c, d? Sans aucun doute. Une unite d'etre, un
faisceau de proprietes invariablement liees? Qu'en sais-je? et quelle garantie puis-je
avoir que l'indice collectif m s'etende, ou meme puisse s'etendre, au dela des
individus a, b, c, d? Peut-etre le lien unique de ce groupe est-il une particularite
individuelle qui, fortuitement, s'est rencontree en a, b, c, d ... Le processus peut
s'etendre a l'indefini, car nulle part, dans des voies de !'induction purement reflechie,
je ne rencontre, entre l'individu et l'espece, une delimitation soit empirique, soit
metaphysique, qui s'impose." J. F. Ross, in" Suarez on the Universals," Journal of

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As for Suarez's latent fear, which seems to be at the root of
his nominalism, namely, that indulging in parallelism would
lead us to platonism, a fair interpretation of St. Thomas's stand
can prove it to be totally unfounded. Furthermore, lest we
fall into riddles of an idealistic brand as Rousselot did, 41 we
must accept a moderate parallelism. Without its help, indeed,
it is impossible to hold fast unto that sound objectivity of our
concepts which is borne out by the whole of St. Thomas's
epistemology. Only thus can we affirm that our universal representations, while not representing the whole reality of things,
do not contain anything that is not real. Furthermore, only
thus is it possible to preserve the genuine univocity of specific
concepts. For, as Marechal points out/ 2 if individuation is a
real "essential difference "-as Suarez, openly breaking with
St. Thomas's tradition, unequivocally taught us-and any
essential degree has an impact on the other degrees and finally
alters the essence as a whole, it follows that Peter and Paul
are "essentially different" and, consequently, humanity, as
affected by the individual difference of Peter is essentially
different from humanity, as affected by the individual difference of Paul. As a result, all the comparative process of induction can find as content for the concept of " man " is a very
striking resemblance of essences which somehow and through
Philosophy, 59 (1962), 747-748 calls Suarez a "realistic conceptualist." The
remark is correct. But Marechal has just shown that the justifying link between
his " realism " and his "conceptualism " is missing altogether.
41 G. Picard, "L'intellectualisme
de Saint Thomas par Pierre Rousselot, S. J.,"
Archives de Philosophic, vol. 3, pp. 95-96: "Mais une nouvelle question se pose
immediatement, concernant encore le concept lui-meme. Etant general, peut-il rester
un? Etant abstrait, peut-il se presenter comme !'apprehension immediate d'une
chose? De cette 'essence absolute,' de cette nature que I'esprit pergoit comme
indivise, sans individualite pourtant comme sans pluralite, peut-on dire, puisqu'elle
n'est pas un etre qui existe, que I' esprit la voit et la vit 'telle qu'elle est'? "
•• Marechal, opus cit., p. 116: "Le concept residue!: 'homme,' rapporte aux
individus, n'est plus qu'approximativement exact; et quand je prononce les jugements suivants: Pierre est homme, Paul est homme, etc., ou bien l'attribut
'homme' n'est pas univoque, il signifie autre chose en Pierre qu'en Paul,--ou bien
je le declare univoque, je lui donne reellement la meme signification, mais ce
n'est plus qu'au prix d'une erreur acceptee, c'est-a-dire, en egalant a zero les petites
differences objectives d'etre."

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a true "coup d'etat," we might say, justifies us in declaring
that concept to be a univocal concept in the sense that it allows
us to divert our consideration from the tiny "essential disparities " that hinder a uniform predication. But thus we are
cornered once again against a very serious difficulty we encountered before: how can we be sure that such similarity,
despite its striking appearance, is indeed an essential similarity
and not rather an accidental one?
None of these pitfalls really threatens St. Thomas's theory
where the inductive process of " formative abstraction" finds
itself wisely guided, strongly supported, and fully guaranteed
by " apprehensive abstraction." The latter, in virtue of the
ontological activity of the agent intellect, establishes a real link
of continuity between sensations and things, on the one hand,
and insights and definitions, on the other. It is in apprehensive
abstraction, indeed, that the glue by which all parts of thomistic epistemology are put together is to be found. Specifically,
the truth of our definitions-which is based upon the conciliation of the identity between the id quod exists and the id quod
is understood and predicated with the diversity between the
modus quo it exists and the modus quo it is apprehended 43is made fully intelligible only through the naturally pre-adapted
cooperation between the ontological and the psychological factors, as takes place in the operation of the agent intellect.
To start off, the least we can do is to take seriously the
verbs "considerari" and "intelligi," and the adverb "truly,"
"without falsity "-which so often recur together on Aquinas's
pages-as being totally different in meaning from "fingi."
Therefore, when the Angelic Doctor tells us that our mind considers and understands the same nature at different levels,44
•• See Summa Theol., I, q. 13, a. 1!'!, in corpore.
•• See De Ente et Essentia, cap. 4; Quodl. VIII, q. 1, a. 1: "Secundum Avicennam triplex alicuius naturae consideratio. Una prout consideratur secundum esse
quod habet in singularibus; sicut natura lapidis in illo lapide. Alia vero est
consideratio alicuius naturae secundum esse suum intelligibile; sicut natura lapidis
consideratur prout est in intellectu. Tertia vero est consideratio naturae absolute,
prout abstrahit ab utroque esse."

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or when he insists that, " despite the fact that in real existence
there is nothing abstract, the intellect is not useless and untrue . . . and therefore it is possible to consider and say that
which is really specific in a determinate individual, i. e., that
whereby it is like unto other individuals, without at the same
time considering the individuating principles that make it different from everything else," 45-we must take that to mean
that a real nature, common of itself, is there in the phantasm
for the intellect to consider and know; in other words, that the
mind did not fictionally create from scratch the immaterial
form that it is contemplating but rather that the intellect found
it and unwrapped its intelligibility-and thereby its universality- upon making it immaterial as befits its being.
Consequently, it is perfectly clear that, according to St.
Thomas, the puzzling " hoe est ab inteUeetu," i.e., what the
intellect adds of its own, is to be understood only as the restoration of immateriality to something that is there, in the individual, tied up and imprisoned, as it were, by designated matter.
This is so much so that he can even speak of its likeness,
which-due to the different powers that specify the faculties,
not owing to its own being-can be received by the intellect and
not by the sense. As he puts it in Summa Contra Gentiles,
" there is no incompatibility between the fact that universals
•• See De Anima, a. 3, 8: "Ad octavum dicendum, quod secundum Platonicos
causa huius quod intelligitur unum in multis, non est ex parte intellectus, sed ex
parte rei. Cum enim intellectus noster intelligat aliquid unum in multis; nisi aliqua
res esset una participata multis, videretur quod intellectus esset vanus, non habens
aliquid respondens sibi in re; unde coacti sunt ponere ideas, per quarum participationem et res naturales speciem sortiuntur, et intellectus nostri fiunt universalia
intelligentes. Sed secundum sententiam Aristotelis hoc est ab intellectu, scilicet
quod intelligat unum in multis per abstractionem a principiis individuantibus.
Nee tamen intellectus est vanus aut falsus, licet non sit aliquid abstractum in
rerum natura; quia eorum quae sunt simul, unum potest vere intelligi aut nominari,
absque hoc quod intelligatur vel nominetur alterum; licet non possit vere intelligi
et dici, quod eorum quae sunt simul, unum sit sine altero. Sic igitur vere potest
considerari et dici id quod est in aliquo individuo, de natura speciei, in quo simile
est cum multis, absque eo quod considerentur in eo principia individuantia,
secundum quae distinguuntur ab omnibus aliis. Sic ergo sua abstractione intellectus
facit istani unitatem universalem, non eo quod sit unus in omnibus, sed in quantum
est immaterialis."

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do not subsist outside the soul, and that in understanding universals the intellect understands things that do exist outside
the soul. The intellect's understanding of the generic or specific
nature apart from the individuating principles is due to the
condition of the intelligible species received into it, for the
species is immaterialized by the agent intellect through being
abstracted from matter and material conditions whereby a particular thing is individuated. Consequently, the sensitive powers are unable to know universals; they cannot receive an immaterial form, since whatever is received by them is
received in a corporeal organ." 46 " Therefore," he concludes
in the De Anima, " this is the way in which the intellect produces this universal unity through its abstraction, namely, not
by making that nature actually exist in all, but simply by
making it immaterial." 47
In this way everything makes sense. The intellect (a) "sees"
in its own way, i.e., "understands" something that of itself
is universal, namely, the form itself, (b) it knows that form
which is universal in that individual to which, without losing
aptitude to be in many, it has been contingently contracted,
but (c) while knowing that form which is universal of its own
tendency it does know it as existing " in a universal way "
either in the individuals or in thought. As a matter of fact,
through apprehensive abstraction alone, the mind does not even
know yet the individual itself. Objectivity, therefore, has been
preserved, no error has slipped into the abstracting process.
And the basic assumption that without being mentioned has
made this whole construction possible is that the essential
universality of the form has remained all along while the form
itself existed "in an individualized manner." Obviously, then,
it is this assumption that comes to focus: is it absurd or is it
intelligible? Can a form which is universal exist as individualized in a thing which is numerically one?
Rebollo Pefia does not see any inconsistency in the proposed
II Cont. Gent., c. 75, n. 8. See also Summa Theol., I, q. 85, a. 2, ad 2m.
n De Anima, a. 8, 8.

46

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situation. He writes: "Abstract and concrete do not get so
identified as to one of them to absorb all the properties of the
other: pure platonic form or pure singularity." 48 But he does
not give any reason why it should be so. He rather seems to
discourage any attempt to understand the assumed constitution of the individual when he tries to refute the only serious
and altogether sound effort that we know to have been made
to break quite open the ontology of the suppositum, namely,
that carried out by Marechal. It is true that he does not object
to it on the grounds of its positive merits- as a matter of fact,
he seems to accept it inasmuch as it is a thomist account-,
but only because it is presented as the only logically possible
explanation. We will not discuss this charge-although we
sincerely believe that by now the History of Philosophy has
had plenty of time to show, and in fact has shown, that there
is no other way which would be consistent with all the aspects
of epistemology to account for the universals-, and thus, we
pass immediately to present Marechal's position on this point.
The objectivity of the universals, he believes, requires, beyond the distinction between the " id quod " and the " modus
quo," a determinate correlative constitution of both thing and
mind which should be of such a structure as to fully guarantee
the most rigorous and perfect identity between the id quod
exists and the id quod is being thought through apprehensive
abstraction. Now, such an identity would be in jeopardy if,
either the mind by dematerializing a sensible object did not
manage to strip it of its individuality, or the left-overs consequent to an effective dis-individualization were not ontologically identical and did not respond to one unique objective
law, which is tantamount to saying, "if, within the same
species, there were some differences in the objects other than
their individual differences." We know by now that if condition
one does not hold true-as in the case of the " abstraction
re:[lehie " theory-, neither does condition number two take
'"Ambrosio Rebollo Pefia, Abstracto y concreto en la filosofia de Santo Tomas
(Burgos: Publicationes del Seminario Metroplitano de Burgos, 1955), pp. 185-186.

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place. But, says Marechal, it is not less clear that the simultaneous happening of both conditions will never be possible as
long as individuality remains essentially independent of materiality, because, on the one hand, if we fail to posit this connection, the spiritualization of the singular in the way the
Augustinian and the Suarezian schools love to maintain becomes outright possible and the inductive process of generalization, with its consequent destruction of univocity, gets the
status of only and necessary means for universalization; whereas if, on the other hand, we posit it, dematerializing automatically turns out to be dis-individualizing and, the remotion of
matter being standard procedure, abstraction results in inevitable univocity. Consequently, only the essential link between individuality and materiality, such in a way that " de-materialization " will necessarily bring about " dis-individuation," will
be able to justify our universal knowledge. We join, once again,
says Marechal, the conclusion that designated matter is the
principle of individuation. 49 Is it too high a price to pay for
the objectivity of our abstract thought? Perhaps, but it is
the only one that will do it within an Aristotelian framework.

III.
We are now better equipped to evaluate the unity with which
Suarez credits the concept of ens, because we know that the
only procedure through which he can form it in his mind 50
could not yield a " perfect unity " as he claims it does. And,
since his whole thesis on the analogy of ens is based on this
would-be indisputable simplicity of its concept, one should say
that his position has already been totally undermined and
wrecked. However, it is always interesting to follow his reasoning step by step.
Let us insist first of all on the fact that the basic unity of
•• See Marechal, opus cit., I, pp. 108-109.
50 See opus cit., I, p.
" Et la rneme operation, analytique et generalisatrice,
pourra se reiterer jusqu'a rejoindre la generalite rneme de l'etre predicamental, ou
peut..etre de l'ens tout court."

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the concept of ens depends exclusively on a logical process
which, as shown above, is entirely disconnected from real objects. This calls for a careful determination of the meaning of
objective concept in Suarez's vocabulary. Tons of pages have
been written on this subject, but we will place ourselves on solid
ground if we rely on the decisive interpretation offered by a
specialist in this particular topic. According to Eleuterio
Elorduy, S. J./ 1 the formal concept is nothing else but the
verbum mentis insofar as it is indissolubly linked to the action
whereby knowledge is produced. The objective concept, on the
other hand, is neither the external reality which triggers the
cognitive process nor the " species expressa '' of the mind,
which is an accident of the same and constitutes understanding
in its capacity as an image of the object, but is rather the very
thing ina8much as it is actuaUy known and permanently kept in
the intellect by means of certain intelligible " species impressas " of which future formal concepts can avail themselves.
Hence, while the verbum is not a "medium in quo cognoscitur
res," the objective concept is both a medium quo and a medium
in quo, i. e., a natural sign of the extra-mental thing.
It follows that there is a close relationship between the formal
and the objective concepts. The former gets specified by the
latter at the production of which it is entirely aimed. It would
be outright unconceivable, therefore, that an objective concept
perfectly one should terminate a formal concept that would
not be as perfectly one itself; and, vice-versa, a perfectly one
formal concept can give rise only to a perfectly one objective
conception. More pertinently still, a perfectly one abstract objective concept can only be the outcome of a factitious formal
concept-never of an adventitious formal concept-which must
be produced by the possible intellect making use of its twofold power, namely, the abstractiva virtus and the confusiva
virtus, that it exercises in a reflective manner upon many singular formal concepts. The formal concept of ens, according to
51 See Eleuterio
4 (1948)' pp.

Elorduy,

El concepto objetivo en Suarez, in "Pensamiento,"

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this, is nothing else but the mental unification of the direct
formal concepts of all singular things compared to each other
as to their fundamental likenesses. This is what suarezians call
" abstractio confusiva." 52
There does not seem to be any doubt in his mind as to the
perfect unity of the objective concept of ens. 58 The reason is
that the content of universal concepts is endowed with the
formal unity of essences, and this, in the form of common
likeness, is what the mind detects first in the process of inductive generalization. 54 Therefore, the content of the concept of
ens, which amounts to the concept of perfect likeness of all
things, is perfectly one. He adds one more argument, which
is somehow puzzling. That likeness among all things, he says,
is founded upon existence which thereby belongs essentially to
the concept of ens. Now, we have an objective concept of esse
which is perfectly one. Therefore, the resulting concept of ens
must be one as well. A very serious problem arises from this assertion. For accordingly, this objective concept of esse not only
precedes the formation of the concept of ens but makes it possi52 See DM, II, s. I, n.ll:
"Sicut mens nostra praescindendo ea quae in re non
distinguuntur, in seipsa realiter distinguit conceptus formales suos, ita e converso
confundendo et coniungendo ea, quae in re distinguuntur, quatenus in se similia
sunt, unit conceptum suum, formando ilium re et ratione formali unum: hoc
autem modo concipiuntur entia hoc formali conceptu entis: sumit enim moos
ilia omnia solum ut inter se similia in ratione essendi, et ut sic, format unam
imaginem unica repraesentatione formali repraesentautem id quod est, quae imago
est ipse conceptus formalis. Est ergo ille conceptus simpliciter unus re et ratione
formali et secundum earn praecisus ab his conceptibus, qui distinctius repraesentant
particularia entia seu rationes eorum."
53 See ibid., s. II, n. 14:
"Ultimo, ex re ipsa, et quasi a priori probatur nostra
sententia contra omnes praedictas, quia omnia entia realia vere habent aliquam
similitudinem et convenientiam in ratione essendi; ergo possunt concipi et repraesentari sub ea praecisa ratione qua inter se conveniunt; ergo possunt sub ea ratione
unum conceptum obiectivum constituere; ergo ille est conceptus obiectivus entis ...
Item ilia convenientia fundatur in actu essendi est veluti formale in conceptu entis,
uncle etiam sumitur argumentum, quod, sicut conceptus obiectivus ipsius esse
existentiae unum est, ita etiam conceptus entis."
54 See ibid.:
"unitas conceptus obiectivi en tis non consistit in unitate reali et
numerali, sed in unitate formali seu fundamentali, quae nihil aliud est quam
praedicta convenientia et similitudo."

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ble. Furthermore, it makes possible all other generalizations. 55
But, in order to be able to do such a fundamental job, the concept
of esse must be either a direct primitive concept which would
have to be prior to all generalizations, or else, the very first general concept we form in our life time. It would seem, though, that
the assertion of either of these would never fit in Suarez's system. We cannot say that it is a primitive direct concept because it was beyond any doubt as the fundamental thesis of
epistemology that the very first concept is of a singular. On
the other hand, if it is supposed to be the very first general
conception and at the same time the most necessary condition
of possibility for " all " generalization process, how could it
be the result of an inductive discourse itself? Is it not in this
conception that Suarez places the very notion of " likeness as
such," which was proven beyond any doubt by Plato in the
Phaedo to be indispensable to any comparative procedure? If
it were to be the result of an induction it would have to be on
the basis of the inspection of entia qua entia, but then, far
from supporting the formation of the concept of ens, it would
presuppose it, which offsets outright the foregoing doctrine:
" illa convenientia fundatu,r in actu essendi qui est veluti formale in conceptu entis." Finally, if it were to be obtained
through abstraction, it would have to be univocal, as it is in
the nature of the method of abstraction advocated by Suarez
to wind up in univocity or at least in the perfect unity of a true
concept. But this would hardly be accepted by any serious
philosopher.
Perhaps Suarez sensed all of these difficulties. The fact is
that he seems to go rather in the direction of the establishment
of the perfect unity of the formal concept of ens as a way
to the objective unity of the same, as we saw before. Fortunately for him, the close interdependence that his epistem55 See ibid.:
"Prima consequentia est per se satis clara, tum quia omnia entia
sub ilia ratione [the concept of esse, that is] et convenientia sunt cognoscibilia; tum
etiam quia hac ratione aliae res, quae habent inter se convenientiam aliquam, sub
ea concipiuntur unite et conimunctim, magis vel minus pro ratione maioris vel
minoris convenientiae; . . ."

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ology establishes between formal and objective concepts enables him to find a way of proving such a unity. He figures that
if all generalization takes place through formal concepts perfectly ones, the generalization which results in the conception of
ens-which differs from all others in extension only, not in
quality-must do exactly the same. Consequently, the formal
concept of ens is one. On the other hand, since the generalization that ends up in a unified conception of all entia is a matter
of experience, he can say that the unity of the verbum mentis
that ends the process of induction and makes possible the
objective concept of ens is also somehow guaranteed by experience itself. Thus, we have a twofold clarification: the fact
of the unity of the objective concept of ens becomes indubitable
in terms of its essential correlation to the perfect unity of
the corresponding formal concept whose certainty is somehow
empirical, and the meaning of the unity of the formal concept
of ens becomes better understood when the corresponding unity
of its objective concept has been proved and thereby dilucidated. Hence, the following conclusion, which is also a premiss: the objective concept of ens cannot help but being per-·
fectly one, since it is the outcome of a perfectly one formal
concept. 56 This conviction that possesses the mind of Suarez
will account for his once expressed readiness to give up the
analogy of the concept of being rather than its perfect unity
if he ever thought that they were not compatible with each
other .... 57
In fact, he held both theses as being compatible with each
other. At what price? It would seem that he did so at the
price of " inconsistency " and finally to the detriment of analogy. Indeed, a very serious problem ensues from this ap56 See ibid., n. 8: "Quia conceptus formalis habet totam suam rationem et unitatem ab obiecto; ergo, ut sit unus, necesse est ut tendat in obiectum aliquo modtt
unum; sed conceptus obiectivus nihil aliud est quam obiectum ipsum, ut cognitum
vel apprehensum per talem conceptum formalem; ergo si conceptus formalis est
unus, necesse est ut obiectivus etiam unus sit." See also: Jesus Iturrioz, " El
tomo al ockamismo de Suarez," in Estudios Eclesiasticos, 19 (1945), p. 107.
•• See DM, II, s. II, n. 86.

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parently contradictory stand. For the objective concept of
ens cannot be truly and simply " one " if it does really contain,
at least implicitly, its ultimate differences in its own intension.
Suarez grants it since he defines accordingly the word ens as
meaning only " aptum ad existendum." But, on the other hand,
not to contain them at all, not even implicitly, amounts to
getting trapped by univocity . . . To put it otherwise: what
difference is there between a real univocal concept and the
objective concept of ens if, as Suarez would have it, the concept
of ens does not actually contain any of its inferiors in its intension but includes them only potentially in its extension?
Suarez does not seem to catch the problem. He replies that
both are different in the way they prescind from their differences. Whereas in the former, he says, there is an " abstractio
praecisiva," which is perfect because it is mutual, in the latter
we can find only an " abstractio confusiva," which is less perfect
in the sense that it is not bilateral. Ens, indeed, can be isolated
from its differences by the mind, but, since it transcends also
its differences, these cannot be thought of without including
the notion of ens in their intension. 58 It would seem, though,
that this is an illegitimate procedure, because it constitutes an
abandonment of the logical level-at which only the problem
arises and was stated-and sneakingly focuses only on the
physical level, not precisely in order to test and double-check
the rightness of the notion of ens that the mind has formed
through abstraction but rather to confirm what already has
been decided and prejudged in advance: the perfect unity of
the concept of ens.
Suarez, of course, cannot deny the transcendence of ens, but
then, confronted with an amazingly variegated reality to which
his logically pre-fabricated notion of being must contract without losing its simplicity, he is forced to literally twist another
notion, namely, the notion of "difference of perfectly simple
concepts," in order to show us that his conception of ens is
both correct and transcendent despite its simplicity. Magnified
•• See ibid., XXVIII, s. III, n.

XXXII, s. II, n. 15.

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through a comparison, his inconsistency and his arbitrariness
amount to those we find in the following hypothesis. Suppose
that a tailor tries to sell to a grown person a coat that he had
originally tailored to a baby, contending that in fact the babycoat suits the grown person because he has so decided. Useless
to insist on the non-sense of the tailor's claim, but it makes
sense to view Suarez' contention in the same light. After all,
the Eximius does not seem to be acting less inconsistently when
he insists that his concept of ens perfectly suits all entia despite
its uncompromising simplicity because according to his own
epistemology it must do so.
This is evidently not the right course of action to be taken
here. In connection with the present objection, which confines
itself to contend that the logical format given by Suarez to his
objective concept of ens is not different from that of univocal
concepts, the reply, if it is to be conclusive, is to be taken
from the logical structure of concepts alone. Obviously, the
right method to be used must consist in inquiring what is entailed in the fact that a concept enjoys a content which is really
" common " and can do without real logical differences. Supposing that the outcome of an inquiry of the kind were to be
that a concept like that is in fact a true univocal concept, it
will be of no use to insist, to bet, and even swear that such a
concept is indeed included in the concepts of its differences
lest it be not compatible with the fact of transcendence as it
should, because the essence of univocity will not change only
by the intensity of our emphasis.
Now, from a purely structural point of view and considering
only the essentially discriminating job of logical differences, the
transcendence of being does not make any real difference between the suarezian concept of ens and a univocal concept
whatsoever. From a logical point of view they differ from each
other only in terms of the different sizes of their respective extensions. In other words, if we look closely into the whole of
Suarez's doctrine and try to extract what it entails, we observe
at once that, if the differences of his concept of ens cannot disengage themselves from the concept that they are supposed to

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differentiate, it is not insofar as they are its differences but only
inasmuch as they are simultaneously its inferiors. This is to say
that, if they were not its inferiors, the precision would be perfect. It happens with them, with respect to the concept of ens,
as with the notion of " dog " with respect to the concept of
"animal." Dog is contained in animal, not as the difference of
this-which it certainly is not, since far from differentiating
animal it is itself a differentiated animal-but only as an
inferior of it, that is, potentially only. If by an impossible
situation " dog " were both an inferior and a difference of
" animal," then it would enjoy the same logical status that
Suarez has designed for the differences in his concept of ens:
it would not be able to prescind from animal, although animal
would still be a universal concept, i. e., would be perfectly
separable from dog.
The Suarezian School, though, replies that even from a
logical vantage point there is in the structure of the concept
perfectly one of ens a characteristic that cannot be found in
any univocal concept whatsoever. 59 No genuine univocal concept, they say, contracts of its own to its inferiors as the concept of ens does, as can be seen from the fact that even its
differences are entia. But, is this not the repetition of the same
methodological blunder regarding the other side of the coin,
i.e., in order to salvage the contractibility of the pre-fabricated
concept of ens because the pressures coming from the transcendence of being threaten to leave bare open its inconsistency
with reality? As a matter of fact, it would be enough to
counter-reply with a simple question: should the suarezian concept of ens-which is supposed to be absolutely pure and simple-contract of itself? Furthermore: could it do so? Whereas
in the thomist solution this is not only a possible way of contraction but even the only one which is possible, this claim
sounds odd and even shocking coming from the Suarezian
School. On the one hand, indeed, it is not the ratio ens as such
•• See Jose Bellin, La analogia del aer y el conocimiento de Dioa en Suarez
(Madrid, 1947), p.

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that diversifies being, but rather the particular concepts of
" such entia," as is obvious. If, therefore, on the other hand
those particular concepts, precisely inasmuch as they are particular concepts, were not somehow contained in the content
of ens-as Suarez so emphatically taught us-, how can one
speak of contraction per expressiorem conceptionem eiusdem
realitatis concerning the suarezian concept of ens? Only a contraction per compositionem metaphysicam is available to it
as it is to all univocal concepts. Hence, the inextricable dilemma: if the concept of ens is absolutely simple, then, either
the ontological predication in the case of particular subjects is
to be carried out by means of as many different concepts of
ens totally equivocal with regard to the abstract concept of
ens ut sic, or else, with Scotus, we avoid such a paradox by
sacrificing both transcendence and analogy in a row. At any
rate, univocity is logically unavoidable despite the suarezian
claims of allegiance to analogy. 60
60 Even the notion of "abstractio
confusiva" leads straightforward to univocity.
In it, as we know, there is no separation of notions, but rather a confusion of
concepts. This happens such in a way that at the end we are left only with
one concept which is entirely new and does not contain the others " as such," i.e.,
as others, even implicitly. It is like a crown resulting from the melting of several
different rings and containing none of them even in a hidden way. But such an
abstraction necessarily leads to a concept of ens which (1) is univocal and (2)
must coincide with the genuine scotist concept of ens, lest it be trapped in the
snares of a flagrant contradiction.
(1) It leads to univocity, because it is supposed to be a "ratio simpliciter una"
which formally transcends to its inferiors-from which, by the way, it comes via
confusion. Indeed, being " simpliciter una," its content is supposed to remain the
same throughout its transcendence, unless it is proved that its being predicated of
different things drags with it a slight change in meaning here and there; but,
including in its intension no relation to the essences of its inferiors, not even an
implicit one, there is no reason whatsoever why, when predicated of its inferiors, it
should mean now this, now that which is slightly different from this. Therefore, it
is a ratio that suits its inferiors by identity, i.e., it is a univocal concept.
(2) Again, being a univocal notion, it does not transcend to its differences. If
it did, indeed, we would incur a flagrant contradiction: as entia, its differences
would not prescind mutually and perfectly from the ratio entis, but, at the same
time, as real differences-as befit a univocal concept-they would. Only the scotist
position, therefore, can remove this threat once and for all ... See: Jose Hellin,
"Obtenci6n del concepto del ente, objeto de la metafisica," Pensamiento 17 (1961),
pp. 160. ss.

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Suarez, therefore, tried to disfigure the notion of " logical
difference " in an attempt to sell us the simplicity of a concept of ens in which there would be no trace of univocity. A
further attempt is now going to be made in the same direction, by distorting the notion of analogy, i. e., by tearing it
into pieces and rebuilding it to the measure of the suarezian
concept of ens. And this position will bring Suarez both to
a certain agreement with Scotus, to the extent that he will
disagree with St. Thomas, and to a kind of nominal disagreement with the Doctor Subtilis, to the extent that he will go
along with the Angelic Doctor's analogy. "For [Scotus] is
right," he says, " when he proves that ens means both substance and accident through one and the same formal and objective concept, but we object to this being sufficient reason
to say that it is a univocal concept, without adding that it
should be also perfectly one in habitudine et indifferentia ad
inferiora." 61 This is so, " Because the univocal is so indifferent,
that it descends to its inferiors equally and without any order
or proportion from one to another." 62 The implication, as
Hoeres puts it, is that "the difference in rank and order of
the actualization of being does not derive from the essence of
substance and accident alone; the concept of being is of itself
already directed to this order of precedence among its inferiors." 63 Correlatively, therefore, analogy necessarily must consist in this, namely, "that the formal content of being (ratio
formalis entis) does not descend to substance and accident in
a fully equal degree, but in a certain order and in a relation
which it demands of itself; that is, the ratio formalis is actualized in the substance absolutely and then in the accident
with reference to the substance." 64
Knowing Suarez's methodology and insisting upon the state•• DM, XXXII, s. II, n. 15.
•• Ibid., XXVIII, s. III, n. 17.
68 Walter Hoeres, "Franciscus
Suarez aud the teaching of John Duns Scotus on
Univocatio Entis," in Studies in Philosophy and History of Philosophy, (Washington: Catholic University of America Press), vol. 8, p. 272.
•• DM, XXXII, s. II, n. 14.

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ment of the problem as pointed out before, we should ask
accordingly: that order of dependence, is it logically established and logically recognizable, or is it only a matter of fact
rooted in the ontological order alone? Whereas we can easily
see how the thomist concept of ens, in virtue of its own constitution, mirrors the organized order of reality, we must question whether the suarezian version of the same concept can,
despite its essentially unified structure, contain the law of
dependence that reigns among real entia. It is not enough to
say that the perfectly unified concept presented by the suarezians precontains the recipe for the hierarchical order of reality
because it must do so if it is to be objective; it must be appropriately structured to that end. Now, the suarezian concept
does not seem to qualify in this respect. It certainly does not
according to Hoeres who outright dismisses as vain the attempt
to reconcile unity with analogy: "Without internal differentiation and structure in the concept of being itself," he writes,
" it is impossible for the concept to give rise by itself aloneand that is the point in question-to a different habitudo ad
inferiora. We have seen, according to Suarez, that the unity
and simplicity of the concept of being establishes just the opposite of that different habitudo, namely, the unica et prima
impositio for all of them." 65 This is a real difficulty, indeed;
and we must confess that not even an eminent suarezian such
as Luis Martinez Gomez, S. J., while recognizing that this is
the most troublesome objection ever encountered by the peculiar thesis of Suarez, has been able to come up with a convincing rebuttal. 66
There are other serious difficulties that ensue from that
suarezian tenet. For one thing, in terms of Suarez's own admission, ens ut sic, inasmuch as it only means aptum ad ex•• Hoeres, opus cit., p. 273.
•• Luis Martinez Gomez, "Lo existencial en la analogia de Suarez," Pensamiento,
4 (1948), pp. 238, 241; see Martin 0. Vaske, An Introduction to Metaphysics
(New York: McGraw Hill), p. 245. See also my book: Gabriel Marcel: "La
Raz6n de Ser" en la "Participaci6n" (Barcelona: Editorial Juan Flors, 1959),
p. 157, footnote 30.

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istendum, applies univocally to God and to creature, to substance and to accident; however, the same mark, aptum ad
existendum, when identified with its differences in all of those
subjects, gets essentially diversified. In other words, the concept of ens can be called univocal when used dialectically,
and analogical when considered metaphysically. 61 However,
one should wonder whether one and the same concept can
undergo the status of univocity and the status of analogy according to the different circumstances under which it is considered at one time or another. One would have no quarrel
against the identity of the concept throughout its variegated
uses if the changes could be accounted for in terms of metaphysical compositions. But that, according to Suarez, is out
of the question, and besides it would leave us only with a
univocal concept all the way. If, on the other hand, it is the
same concept, aptum ad existendum, that now does not mean
the essential differences, and later on does, there is only one
explanation that possibly could be given by Suarez, namely,
the order of precedence which was enacted as a law by the concept of ens ut sio makes possible the diversification of the
meaning of ens as the predication descends to the different
entia. But this leads us straightforward to a dilemma. Either
this making possible is to be understood in the sense that
ens ut sic precontained already all the diversified meanings of
concrete entia, or not. If it is, why did it not mean all of them
when used dialectically, thus making it impossible to call it
univocal at that stage as we were allowed to do? If it is not,
how can it now mean different things at the concrete level? Not
including even implicitly in its intension any reference to the
essences of things, it must keep exactly the same meaning when
applied to all of them at no matter what level the consideration
may take place. Therefore, even if we take seriously for a
01 See DM, XXVIII, s. III, n.
" Dici potest ... ens ... in ordine ad usum
dialecticum dici posse univocum, quia et potest esse medium demonstrationis et
simpliciter ac sine addito dictur de ente creato et increato, et secundum nomen
et conceptum commune est. Metaphysice vero esse analogum, quia non aequali
habitudine et ordine est in inferioribus ut declaratum est."

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moment and for argument's sake the inherence of the law of
ontological precedence in the content of the concept of ens, still
we must posit, it would seem, two kinds of concept of ens
totally equivocal to each other, namely, the concept of ens ut
sic and the concepts of ens a se, ens in se, ens in olio, etc.

IV.
If we trace this strange position on analogy to its roots, we
find that it depends, on one hand, upon a strong conviction
about the unity of abstract concepts, imposed by his epistemological tenet about the inductive genesis of the same; and, on
the other hand, upon his " reistic" conception of esse. The
former, as shown by Marechal, works on the assumption of a
delusion, namely, that induction can provide us with perfect
unity. But the latter is not less unfounded. In addition, it is
most damaging to analogy because, as he told us, the concept
of esse lies at the core of the concept of ens which means only
aptum ad existendum· Accordingly, depending on the way he
conceives esse, his concept of ens will have to be either analogous or univocal. If he had understood esse as the ultimate
act or perfection of the individual, as St. Thomas did, he
never would have indulged in a conception endowed with
perfect unity. But he could not grasp the real purport of the
key word of thomistic metaphysics, perhaps because the
thomist tradition had already ben clouded to excess by the
misleading expressions of Giles of Rome which tended to
present esse as a thing. So, as Ockham before him, he preferred
to take esse to mean only a state of the essence, hoping to
put an end to what he sincerely believed to be an inveterate
thomist non-sense. Whether or not he was right in crediting
the thomists with such an enormity does not concern us here;
his inability to get hold of esse as an act, though, is most
relevant to our study on the roots of his analogy-theory.
It is most evident in his tight reasoning against the thomistic
thesis of the real distinction between essence and existence in
the same individual. Without following his discourse all the
way through, let us at least touch upon it in order to bring

SUAREz's

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about his inability to interpret the thomist stand. His basic
argument against the latter shows as yet most clearly that he
has not managed to grasp the kind of ens quo the thomists do
now refer to and St. Thomas had in mind. Had he grasped it,
he never would have argued that it is impossible for a thing
to be intrinsically and formally constituted as a real and actual
being by something else really distinct from itself, because
being really distinct from each other as two things (tamquam
ens ab ente) , each one of them would have to be an ens of its
own precisely inasmuch as it is distinct from the other and,
therefore, not formally and intrinsically by virtue of the other. 68
The same unfortunate misunderstanding surfaces once again
through the reasoning he conducts in order to establish that
the essence of an existent is itself actu ens and that, therefore,
its esse essentiale is an actuale esse.69 The first argument to
that end purports to show that if the essence were not actual
by itself, i. e., if it were actual only by virtue of an esse really
different from itself, then we would have to grant the absurd
conclusion that the actual esse does also differ from itself as
potential because it is actually united to an essence and not
in virtue of its own entity. 70 His favorilte reason, though, is
still more clearly based on the false assumption we mentioned
above. If the actual essence, he figures, were not actual of
itself, then it would have to be so because esse was added to
itself when it was purely potential, which is impossible, smce
•• Ibid., XXXI, s. I ,n. 13.
69 Ibid., s. II, n. 11. Suarez gives us there a detailed account of his ontological
vocabulary. He distinguishes several kinds of esse. There is first the " esse
essentiae," which is nothing but " essentia quatenus praescindit ab existentia."
Next comes the "esse subsistentiae," which is not to be mistaken for the "esse
existentiae substantiae," because it does not constitute the nature " in ratione
actualis entitatis " but is only an " esse" which constitutes the thing " in ratione
essendi in se," and is therefore the counterpart of the " esse inhaerentiae," whereby
the accident as such becomes constitued. In the third place we have the " esse
existentiae," which constitutes the nature " in ratione actualis entitatis." Finally
he mentions the " esse veritatis p1·opositionis," which is nothing real but only
" obiectivum quid in intellectu componente."
•• DM, XXXI, s. III, n. 7; s. VI, n. 3.

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nothing can really be added to potential essence because as
such it has no entity at all by definition. 71
As we stated before, we were not interested in upholding the
thomistic side of the question. 72 It was enough for us to show
that Suarez could not understand esse as an act or positive
perfection and thereby had to decide in favor of the perfect
unity of the concept of ens. For it is only when esse is considered as a perfection in which all entia share and become
constituted as entia, and simultaneously essences are thought
of as those different measures of participation in esse whereby
things get constituted as different, that both equivocity and
univocity become impossible and analogy emerges as the only
kind of community inherent in the concept of ens. If esse is
not conceived as the ultimate perfection or act, then it is not
perfect unity but crude equivocity that imposes itself as the
only way out, despite the delusion of oneness to which Suarez
was led by his inductive process of generalization and abstraction. In other words, if esse is not a perfection, or if it is so
it is nevertheless identified with the essence, then an all-encompassing atomism becomes inevitable. This is self-evident in the
second alternative because then no real common ground in
which all things could be unified would be left, since the very
acts of esse would be essentially different from and irreducible
to each other as the essences with which they would be one and
the same reality. But it would be not less clear in the first
case. If esse is not indeed an act or perfection, then it must be
understood as a mere state or fact of being outside the causes.
As a result, the suarezian concept of ens would boil down to
Ibid., n. 5.
For the thomistic account of real distinction, see Andre Marc, Dialectique de
l'affirmation (Bruxelles: L'Edition Universelle; Paris: Desch\e, De Brouwer, 1952),
pp. 866-367; Auguste Valensin, A travers la metaphysique (1925), p. 150 (cited by
Marc, opus cit., pp. 494-495); James F. Anderson, Reflections on the Analogy of
Being (The Hague; Martinus nijhoff, 1967), pp. 48-49; Bernard Montagues, 0. P.,
La doctrine de l'analogie de l'etre d'apres Saint Thomas d'Aquin (Publications
Louvain: Universitaires; Paris: Beatrice-Neuwelaerts, 1968), pp. 156-159; Cornelio
Fabro, Participation et Causalite selon S. Thomas d'Aquin (Publications Louvain:
Universitaires, Beatrice-Nauwelaerts, Paris, 1961), pp. 260-816, mainly pp. 814-816.
71

72

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this sole mark: " aptum ad existendum " = " capable of being
outside the causes." But then there would be no guarantee
whatsoever that the " being outside the causes " proper to ' A '
is not a reality totally equivocal with respect to the " being
outside the causes " proper to 'B '. Besides, this would cut off
all the channels leading to the knowledge of God, since God has
no causes and therefore ought not even to be said to exist. 73
It would seem that Suarez's legitimate concern with escaping
from the snares of "ultrarealism" wound up in a would-be
analogy which, if shaken enough, would collapse and, upon
crumbling, would unfurl the ugly face of equivocity.
FRANCISCO

L. PECCORINI

Cal-ifornia State University
Long Beach, California

•• See George P. Klubertanz, Saint Thomas Aquinas on Analogy (Chicago:
Loyola University Press, 1960), p. 12 and p. 134, footnote 24; Hampus Lyttkens,
The Analogy between God and the World: An Investigation of Its Background and
Interpretation of Its Use by Thomas of Aquino (Uppsala: Almqvist and Wiksells,
1952)' pp. 234-241.

A NOTE ON DIVERSITY AND DIFFERENCE

T

HE PURPOSE OF this note is to delve into a problem
resting in the borderline area between logic and metaphysics. Although it certainly has to do with words,
it is not primarily an exercise in linguistic analysis in the sense
of common language analysis. Neither should it be construed
as primarily an historical work, even though reference is made
to certain historical figures to whom the question of the meanings of the terms diversity and difference was of special importance. My purpose, rather, is to discuss as concisely as
possible the following alternatives with respect to the mutual
logical relations between diversity and difference: Is diversity
the genus and difference its species? or Are diversity and
difference two species of some higher genus? or Are diversity
and difference members of different genera?
The importance of the answer given to these questions is
brought out very well by Professor Joseph Owens in his A.n
Elementary Christian Metaphysics. 1 As part of his discussion
of the way the human mind apprehends being, the author has
reason to differentiate diversity from difference with respect
to the difference between a thing and its being. The being
of sensible things, he states, "is not just different in every case
and at every moment, but is diverse in the fullest sense of
the term. Things are said technically to be different if they
coincide in a specific or generic trait while they are distinct
through some further characteristic. ' Diverse ' is a wider term
and applies also to things that do not coincide in any specific
or generic feature." Noting the difference between these two
terms is of great importance in the correct understanding of
an authentic Thomistic philosophy of being, even though such
a distinction is not generally made in colloquial speech. In
1

(Milwaukee, 1963), p. 5!!.

472

A NOTE ON DIVERSITY AND DIFFERENCE

478

opposition to several other important thinkers of the past
Aquinas did not regard being as a genus. Being is not a
universally common nature of some especially shallow comprehension present in all that is and grasped by means of a single
concept. Rather, the being of each individual essence is not
only really diverse from that essence but diverse with respect
to every other instance of essence and existence. This diversity
can and must be apprehended separately in each and every
case, and in each successive period of time, by means of
judgment. As Fr. Owens states elsewhere," Being is diverse in
every instance, yet is most common to all things." 2 And," To
signify the actual existing, it has to be referred back in every
separate instance to a judgment in which being is grasped in
its actual diversity." 8
Now, what would happen if the being of things was not
diverse but only different? If such were the case, being would
have to be viewed as some sort of thing, a super-genus, an
especially denuded essence, underlying all that is. In fact,
not just underlying in some prime matter sense but actually
identified with all that is as a genus is identified with its species.
Being would be the genus for everything. This view of being
is productive of two main results.'
One would be Pantheism, a polite form of atheism. This
follows directly from taking being to be a genus, indeed the
genus, for everything that is. As a genus, being becomes a
unifying principle for every one of its subdivisions. Just as
being animals is what makes men and dogs alike, so being
in the genus being would make all beings alike. In the end,
everything would be identified with everything else under the
same summum genus.
Indirectly, regarding being as a genus leads to the affirmation
of nonbeing as an extramental reality if one wishes to explain
•" Diversity and Community of Being in St. Thomas Aquinas," Mediaeval
Studies, 22 (1960), p. 801.
• Ibid., p. 802. Cf. "The Causal Proposition Revisited," Modem Sckoolman, 44
(1966-1967), p. 150, note 12.
• See E. Gilson, Being and Some Philosophers (2nd ed., Toronto, 1952), ch. IV.

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F. F. CENTORE

change. One could, of course, accept the univocity of being,
i.e., take being to be a genus-concept equally applicable to
all beings and deny any and all alterations, as did Parmenides.
However, if one accepts both the univocity of being and the
existence of change in the world, one must also seek to
change by bringing in nonbeing as a major factor. This follows
because nonbeing is the only possible contrary for being; it
must be brought in in order to account for the differences
inherent in any change. Since being as a genus accounts for
sameness, something else must account for differences, and the
only possible something else would be nonbeing. But how
can anyone affirm that: what is not, is? How can a nothing
have extramental reality? Is this not absurd and is not any
philosophy founded upon an absurdity worthless from the outset? To know, then, that diversity is not difference is of great
importance, but what of the positive logical relationship (if
any) between the two? This has never been expicated in any
great detail in those very philosophies where it plays such a
major role.
If one were to look into Aristotle's Metaphysics, Book V,
chapter 9 and Book X, chapter 3, one would find basically the
same approach to difference-diversity
as later found in
Aquinas. In Book V, when discussing the meaning of "the
same," Aristotle states:
Things are called diverse if their species or their matters or the
definitions of their essences are more than one, and, generally,
diverse has meanings opposite to those of the same. Different is
applied to those things which though diverse are the same in some
respect, but not in number but in species or in genus or by analogy,
and to those things whose genus is diverse, to contraries, and to
all those things that have their diversity in their essences. 5

In this passage, Aristotle seems to be regarding difference as
a species or a kind of diversity. Different things are those
which though diverse are the same in a certain way. The
sameness is not numerical so that when counting one would
count the same thing twice. Rather, it is primarily in their
• 1018a 10-14.

A NOTE ON DIVERSITY

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genus and species as when one says that dogs and men are the
same insofar as they are animals. In this sense the essence
of the species contains both its genus (which gives sameness)
and difference, thus placing the diversity in the essence.
Contraries, too, since they are always in some particular genus
of accident or substance, can be called different.
What Aristotle says in Book V is confirmed by what he
states in Book X.
The diverse, therefore, and the same are thus opposed. But
difference is not the same as diversity. For the diverse and that
which it is other than need not be diverse in some definite respect
(for everything existent is either diverse or the same), but that
which is different is different from some particular thing in some
particular way, so that there must be something identical whereby
they differ. The identical part is genus or species, for everything
that differs does so in genus or species, ... 6
The implication here is that diversity is some wider category
which embraces difference as a subdivision. To be diverse two
things need not have anything in common, whereas to be
different two things must have something in common.
Aristotle's thoughts were later turned to good use by
Aquinas. When discussing whether or not there is any matter
in God, for instance, Aquinas condemns the madness of the
ignorant David of Dinant who tried to prove that God was
equal to prime matter. Dinant's troubles stemmed from his
failure to distinguish difference from diversity, claims Aquinas.
Referring to Aristotle, Aquinas explains that difference always
involves a relation, because everything different differs by
something.
Something is called diverse, however, absolutely, from the fact that
it is not the same. Difference, therefore, must be sought among
those things that agree in something, for we must point to something in them according to which they differ: for example, two
species agree in genus and must therefore be distinguished by
differences. But in things agreeing in nothing we need not look for
that by which they differ; they are diverse by themselves." 7
• 1054b ftl-ft9.
7

1 Contra Gentiles, c. 17, 7.

476

F. F. CENTORE

Within the context of the same issue discussed elsewhere, he
again faces the argument that God is prime matter and therefore enters into the composition of everything. His answer is
that
Simple things do not differ by added differences, for this belongs to
composites. Thus man and horse differ by their differences rational
and irrational, which differences, however, do not differ from each
other by other differences. Hence, to be completely accurate, it is
better to say that they are not different but diverse. Hence, according to the Philosopher, things are said to be diverse absolutely, but
things which are different differ by something. 8

Consequently, since God and prime matter are diverse rather
than different, it is not necessary that they be the same in
some way. Again we see it affirmed that only things that are
the same can be different. If there is nothing the same about
two things, they cannot be called different. To say two things
means that there must be something the same about them in
order to place them in the same category (thing) and, inversely, that there must be something not the same about them
in order to have two things rather than one.
In another place, when concerned with whether or not the
human soul is a part of God, Aquinas again answers the argument that they are the same by differentiating between
diversity and difference. He informs the reader:
That which differs, properly speaking, differs by something, so that
we look for difference where we also find sameness. Consequently,
things which differ must be somehow composite, since they differ
in something and are the same as each other in something. In this
sense, although all things that differ are diverse, yet all things that
are diverse do not differ, as is said in Metaphysics [V, 9).9

The implication that diversity is the genus of difference is
very strong here. 1 ° Concentrating on the last sentence quoted,
Summa Theologiae, I, q. 3, a. ad 3.
• Ibid., q. 90, a .1, ad 3.
10 In addition to setting up diversity as the genus, Aquinas goes on to reiterate

8

what he had previously affirmed, namely, that, although things that differ contain
diverse factors, the factors are not different; i. e., since they are never alike, diverse
factors cannot be different.

A NOTE ON DIVERSITY AND DIFFERENCE

477

what Aquinas is saying can be rewritten as "Although all things
that differ are diverse, some things that are diverse are different
and some things that are diverse are not different." The expression is perfectly parallel with something such as " Although
all things that are men are animals, yet all things that are
animals are not men.-Although all things that are men are
animals, some things that are animals are men and some things
that are animals are not men." Obviously, Aquinas is here
warning us against converting simply an A proposition. The
genus can be predicated of the species but not vice versa. It
would appear, then, that diversity is to be considered as the
wider, genus, term while difference is a narrower, species,
term. 11
The reason why the simple conversion of an A proposition
is forbidden is that, in order to be genus, a class must have at
least two species. A category with no subdivisions based upon
essential, as opposed to accidental, differences would not be a
genus at all but an infima species. To simply reverse the order
of terms in an A proposition, then, would be in effect to ignore
the existence of at least one of the other species in a given
genus.
Assuming now that we accept diversity as the genus and
difference as the species, what would the other species in the
genus diversity be? It is here that we encounter a serious
difficulty. Neither Aristotle nor Aquinas seems to make any
provision for at least one more species within diversity as a
genus. If diversity refers to simple things which are in no way
the same, have nothing in common, and cannot be compared,
while difference always involves compounds which are partially
the same and partially not the same, then one would think
that the difference added to the genus to give the species
should be sameness. "Not the same" would be the common
element that difference would have with diversity, while sameness would be the distinguishing characteristic. On the surface
of it, though, this hardly seems satisfactory. If diversity means
11

Cf. J. Owens, art. cit., p.

note 1.

478

F. F. CENTORE

" not at all the same," adding sameness to it would not give us
one species to be contrasted with another but would instead
introduce a contradictory note into the genus which would, of
course, destroy it.
On the other hand, and assuming for the sake of argument
that the genus would not become an impossibility, the only
note that would be left to found another species would be
non-sameness, the lack of identity, or something of the sort.
This, however, as can be easily seen, would not constitute the
required second species but would merely be a repetition of
the genus. That is to say, we would not have another species,
but we would be back where we started, with one subclass.
A second difficulty follows upon the first. In a genus-species
relationship what is true of the genus is true of the species but
not vice versa. But can this be the case with the relationship
between diversity and difference? If diversity is characterized
as absolute lack of sameness, while it is a necessary trait of
difference that there be sameness in at least one respect, it does
not seem possible to regard the latter as a species of the
former. In order to do so it would be necessary that absolute
lack of identity be applicable to difference. Such a move,
however, has been ruled out ex hypothesi. One could not say,
therefore, that what is true of the genus is true of the species.
As a result, there appears to be at least two strong reasons for
rejecting the notion that diversity is to be construed as a wider
class with difference as a subclass.
What then is their relationship? Perhaps both diversity and
difference are species contained in some higher genus, and it
is the case that diversity is wider in scope in the sense that its
extension is greater than that of difference. This latter possibility, I think, can be immediately put aside because it would
be impossible to decide the issue. In order to reach a decision
one would have to know what the factual situation was with
respect to the number of simple as opposed to compound
entities in the universe. Such information is simply not available to us.
Returning to the former possibility, the first question that

A NOTE ON DIVERSITY

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479

naturally arises is what could the higher genus be. The most
likely candidate for the office is distinction. A distinction does
not necessarily represent a physical separation or division in
time and place but merely means that two or more parts or
aspects of something are not identical. "Moreover," Aquinas
notes, " as was shown above, God knows the distinction of
things. But negation is found within the notion of distinction;
for those things are distinct of which one is not the other." 12
For Aquinas, the knower or knowing mind alone distinguishes.
Whether this mental operation is nothing more than a selfgenerated internal operation or is founded upon an extramental
situation is a further question. Outside the mind, things may
be distinguishable but they are not distinguished. 13 But what
kinds of things are distinguishable? Those things which are
in fact diverse or different. Clearly, since negation is in the
notion of distinction, distinction cannot apply to things which
are one in reality, i.e., without plurality or multiplicity. However, where there are diversities or differences distinctions are
possible. If the various diverse factors (e. g., essence and existence in one thing) or different factors (e. g., your height and
weight) are within one being, there is no physical separation.
If the various diverse factors (e. g., essence and existence in two
different creatures) or different factors (e. g., the matter of
John's body and the matter of Mary's body) are not in the
same being, there is a separation in time and/ or place.
We now ask whether or not distinction will do as a genus for
diversity and difference. It would seem that it is not suitable.
First of all, the terms operate within two different orders, the
intramental and the extramental. Distinctions give a reflection
of diversities and differences rather than telling us what is
common to them.
Secondly, and assuming for the sake of argument that distinction, diversity, and difference could be considered as all in
12 I Contra Gent., c. 71, 5. Distinction,
it might be noted, was not a term used
by Aristotle.
10 See F. A. Cunningham,
"Distinction According to St. Thomas," The New
Scholasticism, 86 (1962), p. 288.

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F. F. CENTORE

the same order, one would still have to face the situation that
in such a case what is true of the genus could not apply equally
well to both of its supposed species. It might be said that the
note " one thing is not the other " can encompass both " in no
way the same " and " in at least one way the same and in at
least one way not the same " since difference is merely adding
the note of sameness to distinction. The nature of the added
note, however, rules out this possibility. One cannot add
identity to non-identity without destroying the genus. Nonidentity cannot abide even a partial identity and still retain its
integrity. Our efforts, then, at establishing the proper logical
relationship between diversity and difference are again frustrated.
Another approach is not to attempt to regard diversity and
difference in some kind of genus-species relationship. Perhaps
there is some other interpretation that can be put upon the
terms which will both account for the impression Aristotle
and Aquinas seem to have had that diversity is wider in scope
than difference and account for the fact that, even though it
may appear to be the genus, diversity cannot be a genus to
difference.
The solution to our problem is already embedded in what
has gone before. For something to be different from something
else it must be the same as the other in at least one way and
not the same as the other in at least one way. This means that
a thing different from another thing must be compound, i. e.,
composed of sameness and non-sameness. Furthermore, the
non-sameness is not the same as something else in some way.
That is to say, the non-sameness aspects of the two things are
not different from something else or from each other. If they
were themselves different, they would have to be the same in
some way. This would lead to an infinite regress in which every
set of non-sameness factors would be both the same and not
the same. Rather, the non-sameness aspects are in no way the
same. But what is it to be absolutely not the same if it is not
to be diverse?
Consequently, the proper way to express difference is as a

A NOTE ON DIVERSITY

AND DIFFERENCE

481

composite of sameness and diversity. And, as strange as it
may sound at first hearing, the same formula would hold for
similarity. In order for one thing to be similar to another thing
it must be diverse from it in at least one way. Only things which
are diverse can be similar, just as only things which are the
same can be different. The difference in terminology results
from one's point of view and emphasis. If diversity is being
emphasized, the items are called different. If sameness is being
emphasized, the items are called similar.
It is now possible to understand why diversity might seem to
be a genus. Taking identity or sameness and diversity or nonsameness as contraries, one can put them together, so to speak,
in order to obtain difference (and similarity) . Since diversity
has a kind of prior logical existence and has its comprehension
increased by an addition, it can easily give the impression of
being a genus. However, given the nature of diversity and the
nature of the addition, we can also see why the genus to
species transition can only be a pseudo operation. 14
Our conclusion may be stated in several parts. Diversity
cannot be the genus of difference. Diversity and difference are
not species of some wider class. Neither are they members of
different lower genera or diverse summa genera. Instead, both
identity and diversity should be regarded as contraries constituting summa genera in their own right. Difference (and
similarity) would then result from a composing of the two
contraries either within one being or between at least two
physically separate things. Finally, it is proper, based upon
what has been said in this study, to speak of the difference
between diversity and difference. Difference is diversity, but
not only that, just as man is animal, but not only that. What
diversity and difference have in common is non-sameness. In
diversity, non-someness exhausts its whole meaning, whereas
in difference it does not. They are also totally unlike in that
14 We also see now why we did not give consideration
to difference as a genus
to diversity. A genus gives rise to a species by an added determination. If diversity
were to be derived from difference, however, something would have to be subtracted, namely, sameness.

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F. F. CENTORE

difference has a sameness element, while diversity has none.
By the same token, it would not be proper to speak of the
diversity of difference and diversity since they do in one way
agree, even though the agreement is not in a specific or generic
trait.

F. F. CENTORE
St. Jerome's College
University of Waterloo
Canada

REVIEW ARTICLE: ESPRIT SAINT ET L'EGLISE

L'Avenir de L'Eglise et de L'rEcumenisme (Actes du symposium organise
par L'Academie internationale des Sciences Religieuses; Paris: Fayard,
1969) 350 pp.

T

HIS VOLUME PRESENTS the papers read and discussed at a symposium organized by the International Academy of Religious Sciences
held at Heverlei-lez-Louvain in 1966. The literary style, brief papers
resuming the thought of an author on a specific point, as well as the
purpose of this symposium, ecumenical dialogue, influence greatly the
content as well as the quality of such a publication. Since what we have
here is a dialogue among experts, knowledge of the specific topics under
consideration is presupposed. Most, if not all contributors have already
published extensively in their own fields. What they present in this
volume are merely certain highlights of a particular aspect of the various
questions treated. They themselves make this point repeatedly in the course
of the discussions which followed every paper.
The reader should keep this in mind as he tries to evaluate the contents
of this book. He cannot expect detailed analysis in this type of a work.
What he can expect, and what he finds in fact, are the major insights and
intuitions of a scholar on a given point, insights which are based on many
years of study and research. As for the value of these insights, perhaps
the best commentary is to be found in the discussions among peers which
follow each paper. Here, either objections are raised, or one or more
aspects brought out in the paper are elaborated upon, or else the ecumenical
meaning of the findings are expounded upon. In a word, what we find in
this book is dialogue in action. Not many solutions are found, but the
major points still at issue are discerned and thus an orientation for further
research is indicated. A student of Ecumenism will find a wealth of research
topics in the present volume.
The specific topic of this volume is the Holy Spirit and the Church, a
topic which all ecclesiologists will recognize as of prime importance both
from the point of view of the notion of the Church and from the point of
view of contemporary ecumenical dialogue. We need evoke here merely
the questions of the relation between the work of the Spirit and the visible
Church, charisma and structure, the roles of Christ and of the Spirit in
the Church, etc. The participants in the Symposium chose to treat of the
question of the Holy Spirit and the Church according to the Acts of the

483

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THOMAS R. POTVIN

Apostles, St. Paul, Liturgical Tradition, Greek Patristic Theology of the
first four centuries, St. Augustine and Augustinianism, the Theology of
the Greek Fathers of the "Filioque." The first six papers, then, are in
the domain of Positive Theology. Three dogmaticians then treated of the
Church as Epiphany of the Holy Spirit, the Mission of the Church, and
finally of the Holy Spirit and Christian Anthropology.
E. TROCME, "Le Saint-Esprit et l'Eglise d'apres le livre des Actes," 1-27;
Discussion, 28-44.
The main trust of Professor Trocme's paper is that, although we find
the Holy Spirit mentioned some sixty times in Acts, Luke is merely
repeating the traditions found in the Early Church without either trying
to coordinate them or, still less, presenting a personal pneumatology. In
other words, according to this author, Luke is not much of a theologian.
Consequently, it would be very difficult to try to extract from the works
of Luke a clear notion of the Spirit and of the Church and to establish
the relationship which would exist between the two. What Luke is
interested in is the progress of the Mission of the faithful seen especially
from the point of view of the churches of Pauline tradition.
The role of the Spirit in the Mission of the Church is, nevertheless,
essential, since it is the Spirit who grants inspired testimony to the
disciples in favor of Jesus Christ, which testimony is given either before
the people in general or before tribunals.
Luke does borrow from tradition the teaching that the Spirit is granted
to all at Baptism. If any exceptional manifestations of the Spirit accompany Baptism, they are to be found in a missionary context. Luke also
receives from tradition the teaching that the Spirit is present in the
Community as a trans-individual reality.
During the discussion Professor Trocme admits that Luke does introduce
within history certain elements of eschatology, of prophecy, and even of
radically reinterpreted apocalypse, as well as the notion of "economy."
However, Professor Trocme maintains that Luke is not a " theologian " of
the caliber of a Paul or a John. For instance, Luke does not expound upon
the link between the gift of the Spirit and the unity of the Community.
Professor Trocme makes it amply clear that his point of view is that of an
historian and not that of a theologian and that his considerations are
necessarily conditioned by the limits imposed by the literary style of his
paper.
It is a well-established fact that Luke is dependent upon tradition
for much of his material in both the gospel and Acts (Lk. 1: 1-4; Acts.
1: 1-2). It is also evident that Luke did develop certain elements in his
works which are worthy of our considerations. On the other hand, the
fact that he does repeat traditions found in the Early Church makes his

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485

works of great value as precisely a source of these traditions even if Luke
himself did not coordinate them as perfectly as one would like. By the
same token, if Luke is found to be so close to the traditions of the
Early Church, " Early Catholicism " must be a phenomenon of the very
Early Church. It is only too evident that the insights of Professor Trocme
need to be verified and developed at greater length.
E. SCHWEIZER, " Esprit et communaute chez Paul et ses disciples," 45-70;
Discussion, 71-84.
Professor Schweizer's expressed intention in the present paper is to
study the Pauline Communities in order to ascertain what Kerygma, what
Proclamation is realized concretely in their organization. His study is
divided into twelve points:
I. The Spirit of God determines the whole life of the believer (Rom.
8: 3-4; I Cor. fl: 6 ff.) . The Lordship of the Spirit dominates Christian life
and Christian knowledge in faith and wisdom of Christ crucified.
fl. Consequently, the charismata, considered as gifts of the grace of God,
are, according to Paul, decisive for the building up of the Community.
Where we speak of "ministry," Paul speaks of "charisma." When determining the general meaning of charisma, our author states that it
signifies the power of God which is inseparable from his action (Kasemann).
Nevertheless, all gifts, all charismata belong to the Community (I Cor. 1:7;
Rom. 1fl:3 ff.; I Thess. 5:19-flO).
3. The charismata are not given for the building up of the individual
but for the building up of the Community. The measure of authentic
charismata is the Confession of the Lordship of Jesus (I Cor. 1fl: 1-3) as
well as the common good of the Community (I Cor. 12: 7; cf. 14; Rom.
14:1 ff.; 15:1 ff.).
4. This is the reason why the charismata do not exclude but rather
include right order. Grace is always a concrete reality, it is manifested in
that a person is installed in a new function in which he is to remain
without seeking to accumulate all the functions (Rom. 12:3). The notion
of order is also manifested by the fact that the charismata are subjected
to the prophets (I Cor. 14: 32-33) , for indeed, God is a God of peace.
Right order in the Community then is founded on the fact that the
"grace-given" is realized, incarnated, differentiated, and expressed in the
social character of the Community so that my brother is the measure of
the action of the Spirit in me.
5. Such an order of things should favor and not restrain the free
activity of the Spirit (I Thess. 5: 19-21; I Cor. 14).
6. Community order implies that certain members are designated for a

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THOMAS R. POTVIN

special service for an indeterminate length of time (I Cor. 8: 18-19; 14:
Q6-33; Rom. 16:1; Phil. 1:1; I Thess. 5:1Q).
7. The decisive point is that the gifts of grace are primary and that
their acknowledgement by the established order comes subsequently in that
it recognizes the existence of a new service, or it recognizes the person who
is called to assume a given service.
8. Consequently, Ordination is excluded by Paul since, for him, there
exists no other order than that of the layman. The most we can admit to
is an installation, founded on the indications given by the Spirit, in a
service which, for practical reasons, should be ordained in a visible manner.
The Greek terms usually used to designate an office-holder are absent in
the Epistles of Paul. On the other hand, " diakonia " is a term used to
designate that which every member of the Community is called to exercise
(Rom. 1Q:3; I Cor. 3:5; 1Q:7, 11, 18; Eph. 4:7). "Diakonia" then would
be without any specific determination. Nor is any service qualitatively
higher or other than that which is fundamental to all.
9. However, certain services, which are of special importance for the
Community, must be acknowledged with particular gratitude, and this is
the case especially of the service of the Word (Rom. 1Q:6-8; I Cor. 1Q:8-10;
QS-30; Eph. 4: 11-1Q). Professor Schweizer, however, finds no evidence of
a predetermined order or hierarchy.
10. The special position of the Apostles comes from the fact that they
are witnesses of the apparitions of the Resurrected
(I Cor. 15:3-8).
Professor Schweizer interprets the term " Apostolos " to mean missionary
preaching in the name of Christ who, in turn, establishes the power of
the apostle. This missionary aspect of the term " apostle " would derive
from Pauline influences. But, the question arises as to whether or not
" apostle " in this sense is transmittable?
11. The Apostolate becomes a function which takes on special importance due to the pre-gnostic " enthusiasm " of the milieux of Ephesus and
Colossae. Due to lack of time Professor Schweizer does not develop this
point. However, we recognize here the influence of that school of thought
which ascribe gnostic and pre-gnostic thought to New Testament times
even though no literary trace of such a phenomenon can be found prior to
the second century.
1Q. The Pastoral Epistles and the Johannine Epistles, while combating
different dangers to the faith, constitute the extreme solutions possible in
the Primitive Church: Institutionalism on the one hand and the free
direction of the Spirit on the other. However, we must acknowledge the
role of the Spirit in the Pastoral Epistles and that of Institution in the
form of Apostolic Tradition (I Jn. 1: 1-4) in the Johannine Epistles. The
proper balance between these two tendencies is to be found in the Pauline
Epistles, excluding the Pastorals.

" ESPRIT SAINT ET L'EGLISE "

487

The discussion which followed this paper appears to have been quite
lively. It makes for very enlightening reading.
Professor Th. F. Torrance points out that the Church, according to the
New Testament, is not born merely of man's answer to the Spirit or to the
Proclamation of the Word but also of the Word-Incarnate who, in Jesus,
has taken on a structured human existence which, in turn, furnishes the
Church with its basic form and immutable structures. It will be recalled
often throughout this Symposium that, in dealing with the reality of the
Church, we must seek to integrate not only the role of the Spirit but also
that of the historical and risen Christ. The Mission of the Incarnate Son
as well as the Mission of the Spirit give substance to the reality of the
Church.
Professor J. J. von Allmen speaks of the necessity of taking into consideration not only the theological structure of the Church but also the
sociology of such a structure. He also points out the tension which
exists between the marked eschatological aspect of Pauline thought as
compared to the other writings of theN. T. and asks why preference should
be given to Paul.
According to Prof. Schweizer, the fundamental structure of the Church
is that presented by Paul. He agrees that the attitude of Paul is not
uniquely ethical but also juridical. However, it is juridical according to
the Spirit. As for the role of the Spirit, it is found in other books of
the N. T. but not, as in Paul, as determing the whole life of the believer.
In passing, Prof. Schweizer states that the ecclesiology of Ignatius of
Antioch is not Johannine.
It is a representative of the Eastern Church, Professor B. Bobrinskoy,
who points out the importance of the Eucharist for a correct interpretation
of the structure of the Church, the Body of Christ. The Spirit works in
the charismata as well as in the ministries towards the edification of the
Church.
Fr. B.-D. Dupuy objects to the distinction which Prof. Schweizer made
in his eighth point between installation and ordination on the grounds that
it first appeared merely at the end of the 2nd century. Professor Schweizer
answered that all members of the Church are ordained insofar as they
have a service to perform. However, they are instituted in their service
by the Spirit and ordained or acknowledged by the Church. As for the
apostolicity of a given group, it is to be judged by their fidelity to the
Apostolic Tradition and not limited necessarily to the official institutional
Church which may, in certain circumstances, be unfaithful to the Spirit.
Even the Canon of Scriptures is, for this author, not a law but the
testimony of my brothers in Christ that the Spirit speaks in such writings.
There will always be a " Diakonia " of the word, but not limited to a
few. The Church, as Body, demands an organization, but one which is
free. Even the power of the Apostles must be considered as eschatological,
in relation to the Kerygma of Christ and dependent upon the Spirit.

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THOMAS R. POTVIN

Professor von Allmen expresses the opinion that Professor Schweizer, in
his treatment of the Church, emphasizes unilaterally the Proclamation of
the Word and the Diaconia without taking sufficiently into consideration
the Eucharist which was instituted within the framework of a religious meal
presided over by a president, the head of the family, the master of the
household, or some responsible person.
Finally, Professor Th. F. Torrance asks how we are to consider the
relationship between the Church as Soma, Body, and Jesus Christ himself.
Is there not a relationship of being between them? And does not this
relationship imply continuity in time and space between the Church-Body
and the historical and resurrected Christ? It is from this vantage point
that we can shed light in the problems of oikodomia, diakonia and
eucharistia.
Professor Schweizer agrees with Professor von Allmen that the Eucharist
is a very important basis for an Ecclesiology, but the topic under discussion
is the Spirit and the Church. Professor Schweizer also agrees that the
question put forward by Professor Torrance is very important. The fact
that the Church is included in Christ, the Second Adam, contains, in some
fashion, a statement on the manner of existence of the Church. The
question which remains open for further discussion and research is how
can one conceive this inclusion of the Church in Christ without implying
a " continuation " of Christ.
In resume, we can say that the major objections formulated against
Professor Schweizer's paper are:
I. The absence of an explicit link between the historical and resurrected
Christ and his Body, the Church, throughout time and space.
2. The absence of an explicit reference to the Eucharist in the making
of the Church and as an indication of its structure.
8. A marked and perhaps unilateral preference for an eschatological and
pneumatological notion of the Church which he proposes as being that
of Paul.
The contribution of Professor Schweizer to this Symposium and to the
ecumenical dialogue is of great importance. For many, including myself,
he may be too unilaterally eschatological in his ecclesiology in that he
seems to have a tendency to overlook the fact that we have received not
the plenitude of the Spirit but his first-fruits (II Cor. 1:22; 5:5; Rom. 8:28;
Epl. 1: 14). He seems also to conclude a little too hastily as to the temporary nature of the various " services " granted by the Spirit. His preference
for Pauline Ecclesiology, although legitimate to a certain extent, can
hardly be exclusive since Paul himself condemns all such partisanship
(I Cor. 1:12-18; 3:4-15; Gal. 1:8-9; 2:2 fl'.). On the other hand, Professor
Schweizer's contribution lies precisely in the domain of not merely valid

" ESPRIT SAINT ET L'EGLISE "

489

apostolate but of a true and authentic apostolate, one which is moved and
guided by the Spirit who is not limited by or in the structures he creates.'
PAUL EVDOKIMOV, "L'Esprit Saint et l'Eglise d'apres Ia tradition
liturgique," 85-111; Discussion, 112-Hl3.
This paper by Prof. Evdokimov presents the position of the Eastern
Church on the Holy Spirit and the Church seen from the point of view of
the liturgical celebrations in which the dogmas of the Church are lived.
The intention of Professor Evdokimov, judging from what he himself will
say during the Discussion, is to treat of this subject not so much as an
historian but as a dogmatician. His paper is divided into four major points.

I. Oriental Triadocentrism.
Oriental tradition is centered on the dogma of the Trinity from which
comes, by means of elaboration, Christology and Pneumatology. It is from
this same point of departure that Ecclesiology receives its structure which
is, consequently, essentially Trinitarian. It is in accordance with the image
of Trinitarian Love that the Church appears as the Community of mutual
love.

II. Christological Aspects of Ecclesiology.
The characteristic trait of Oriental Soteriology is its emphasis on
Redemption realized thanks to the principle of Regeneration. Reparation
is made not so much for sin. It is human nature itself which, in Christ, is
cured.
As the Body of its divine Archetype, the Church, in its Mystery, reproduces Christ and exists only in the unity of its members, a unity which
is directed towards its Head who is the principle of integration :md of
recapitulation.

III. The Holy Spirit and the Church.
I. We can speak of the Kenosis of the Holy Spirit who manifests
himself in the gifts and charismata he grants to the Church while dissimulating his Person in his very manifestation.
2. The relationships which exist between the Son and the Spirit. Greek
Theology insists on the Monarchy in God: the foundation of unity, the
principle and the final end are the Father. The Spirit is the Image and
1 See:
Y. Congar, L'Eglise Une, Sainte, Catholique et Apostolique (Mysterium
Salutia 15; Paris: Cerf, 1970), 192-215. Idem, "Apostolicite de ministere et
apostolicite de doctrine," Volk Gottes (Freiburg: Herder, 1967), R4-lll. G.
Hasenhiittl, Charisma.Ordnungsprinzip der Kirche (Okumenische Forschungen I·
Ekklesiologische Abteilung Band V; Freiburg: Herder, 1969).

490

THOMAS R. POTVIN

the manifestation of the Power of the Son. It is he who engenders Jesus in
the souls of the baptized.
3. Holiness is hypostatized in the Spirit, the Giver, and the Kingdom.
The Spirit is "All Holy," the quality of divine Sanctity by nature and
not merely by appropriation. The Spirit is the Giver of Love since it is
he who actualizes the Life of Love, its eternal circulation in the depths
of the Trinity. In the Church, the Spirit is the Giver of Love in us in
that he grants us to participate in the common Love of the Trinity.
Although the Spirit comes from Christ, it must also be remembered that
he precedes Christ in that he is already at work in the Incarnation and
the marvels worked by Jesus. As for the presence of the Spirit in the
sanctified soul, one must speak not merely of grace but of a substantial
presence.
4. The eternal Processions and the temporal Missions. Only the hypostasis of the Father produces the other divine Persons. In the case of
the temporal Missions the Spirit is sent by the Father and communicated
by the Son. As for the Church, she is founded by both the EucharistWord and Pentecost-Spirit. Both the Word and the Spirit manifest the
Father while remain ineffably distinct Persons. The Spirit is in no way
subordinate to the Son, nor is he a function of the Word but rather the
Second Paraclete. Likewise, Pentecost is not simply a consequence or
continuation of the Incarnation but a second act of God, the ultimate end
of the trinitarian Economy of Salvation. In a sense then, Christ can be
considered as the Precursor of the Spirit since their Missions are intimately
linked together and appear as mutual services converging on the Lordship
of the Father.
5. Diversifying action of the Spirit. It is Christophanic in that our
union with Christ is realized not through some form of pan-christism but
rather in the Spirit. It is Epicletic in that it is the Spirit who is at work
in Salvation History.
6. The Spirit is an interior fact of the New Creation. Without confusion, the Spirit identifies himself with us. Thanks to the vivifying
energies of the Spirit, the Church is rendered essentially dynamic.
7. A brief resume of the Ecclesiology of the Fathers as regards the
Spirit. The Glorified Christ continues his priestly intercession as High
Priest in Heaven. However, it is the Spirit who guarantees and assures the
" charisma veritatis certum " of the Church. The " Stone " upon which the
Church is built is the first Eucharist celebrated by Peter after Pentecost.
This Eucharistic power is passed on to the Bishops whose individual
episcopal sees are the " Cathedra Petri." It is the role of the Bishop to
witness to the authenticity of the Lord's Supper. Thus we may say that
it is with Pentecost that the history of the Church began while inaugurating
the Parousia and anticipating the Kingdom. The Church, which is the

" ESPRIT SAINT ET L'EGLISE "

491

work of the Trinity of Persons, is also created to their image, and this
fact has repercussions on the government of the Church. There must exist
unity without destroying the perfect equality which must exist. Yet, the
Father is the one who presides within the trinitarian life of Love. In an
analogous manner, we can speak of a primacy of Love in the case of
the Pope.

IV. The liturgical dimension of the Theology of the Holy Spirit.
I. The Holy Spirit in the Sacraments. The Orient sees in the Sacraments
primarily the Epiphany and the effusion of deifying energies.
2. The Holy Spirit, in the Liturgy, grants us participation in the
glorified Body of Christ and to live in communion. The Spirit realizes the
Eucharist and illial adoption.
3. As for the Epiclesis, it signifies that the operative power of all
sacred rites is attributed to the hypostatic intervention of the Third
Person of the Trinity. This personal intervention of the Spirit is also
found in another domain: just as there exists an ontological relationship
between the Word and the humanity of Jesus, there exists a dynamic
relationship between the Spirit and deified humanity in general.
One cannot help but noting, in this paper of Prof. Evdokimov, many
points which have been the subject of discussion between the Eastern and
Western Churches for centuries now. Aside from the question of the
"Filioque," to which Father Le Guillou will return later, there is the
question of the Epiclesis, that of created and uncreated grace, the date
of the beginning of the Church, the primacy of the Bishop of Rome,
etc. These questions, it would seem, have not, as of yet, been resolved
to the satisfaction of all. We cannot develop them here. However, we
should note, with Fr. A. Scrima, that the attribution of the deification of
all humanity including that of Jesus to the Spirit does not seem to take
sufficiently into account the reality of the Hypostatic Union. Nor, according to this scholar, does Prof. Evdokimov seem to give to the role of the
priest in the Liturgy its full importance when he claims that it is the whole
community which is the minister of the Eucharist and that the priest does
not act " in persona Christ " but merely " in nomine Christi." This last
distinction is merely verbal since the expressions are synonymous. Prof.
Evdokimov does, on the other hand, admit that the priest is the president
of the Community.
Prof. A. Benoit regrets that Prof. Evdokimov has, in his dogmatic
treatment of the subject, neglected the historical development which is
at work in the Greek Tradition upon which he has based his conclusions.
Fr. J. Hajjar is of the same opinion and adds that he regrets the absence
of such witnesses of the Greek Tradition as St. Maximus the Confessor
and John Damascene, not to mention the Syrian, Alexandrine, Armenian
and Nestorian Liturgies.

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THOMAS R. POTVIN

Prof. Th. F. Torrance is of the opinion that the differences between
the East and the West concerning the notion of the " Filioque " are based
on semantics. The West, in affirming the "Filioque," wishes to emphasize
the divinity of Christ who, as the Son, is equal in divinity with the
Father. The East, on the other hand, wishes to avoid any implication that
either the Spirit is a creature or that he is merely the proper spirit of
Christ and not a person distinct from him. Yet, the East admits that the
Spirit is sent by the Father " in " and " by " Jesus Christ, the Son. He
suggests that a solution might be found by exploring the Christological and
Soteriological notions which are behind the " Filioque."
As Prof. J. J. von Allmen so aptly put it, the paper of Prof. Evdokimov
can be resumed in two major points: The Church is the place where
Eschatology is present, where the forces of the Kingdom of God are
accessible in the present world. Man cannot cause this presence of the
Kingdom. The Church must implore the Holy Spirit to realize it in its
midst. In his final remarks terminating the discussion period, Prof.
Evdokimov will develop his thought on the Eschatological nature of the
Church in relation to the world. In brief, the role of the Church is not so
much to enter into the world as to manifest to the world its true being
and destiny, to help it to pass through the symbols to reality which
is the Holiness of the Kingdom.
A. BENOIT, "Le Saint-Esprit et l'Eglise dans tMologie patristique
grecque des quatre premiers siecles," 125-141; Discussion, 142-152.
Prof. A. Benoit's paper is limited to the study of the writings of the
Greek Fathers of the first four centuries on the Holy Spirit and on
the Church. His first remark is that the Fathers of this period, while
treating of the reality of the Spirit and of the Church, did not consider
directly the relationship between the two, and that, consequently, we must
seek indirect references to such a subject. They indeed insisted on the
divinity of the Holy Spirit, and developed an Ecclesiology, but did not
see the necessity of establishing a link between the two. The same would
seem to be true of the N. T.
If we turn to the Symbols of Faith, the Creeds, we do find in an
ancient Roman Symbol of the 3rd century mention of the Church after
the Spirit indicating, thereby, a relationship between the two. However, the
Spirit alone is found in an Oriental Creed of the same period, and we
can conclude merely to an implicit relationship between the Spirit and
the Church affirmed here. A comparison between the Nicene Creed (325)
and that of Constantinople (381) reveals that it is only in the latter that
the Church is mentioned after the Holy Spirit. Thus we can conclude that
it was only after the Theology of the Spirit had been developed that the
relationship between the Spirit and the Church was elaborated.

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Prior to this time, our best witness of the role of the Spirit in the Church
remains St. Irenaeus. In his Adversus Haereses III, 24, 1, he attributes to
the Spirit the conservation of Faith in the Church, which Faith is precisely
his gift. It is also the Spirit who unites us to Christ and guarantees
incorruptibility and hope for eternal life. Besides, where the Church is,
there is the Spirit, and where the Spirit, the Church. The Gospel and the
Spirit are the column and the foundation of the Church (Adv. Haer. III,
11, 2). The Spirit is a gift of the Church which in turn grants him to
others through Baptism and the Eucharist (Adv. Haer. V, 18, 2). The
Spirit illuminates the faithful of theN. T. and grants them comprehension
of Scriptures (Adv. Haer. I, 10, I). The Apostolic Succession assures that
the Church transmits well the Spirit (Adv. Haer. V, 26, 1). In a word,
St. lrenaeus considers the Holy Spirit in the context of God's action in
history and in favor of mankind. The Spirit is a gift made to the Church.
This line of thought will prevail among the Greek Fathers until the
Council of Nicaea and will be resumed in the 3rd article of the Nicene
Creed.
After Nicaea, the question of the divinity of the Spirit came to the fore,
but this time as seen within a theological reflection on the Trinity itself.
Before, the Spirit was considered as a passive reality, the power of God
working in the Church. Now, he is considered as a personal subject, a
Person, an active reality. These considerations have repercussions on the
relationship of the Spirit and the Church. A distance is established
betewen the Spirit and the Church: it is no longer question of the
Spirit in the Church but of the Spirit and the Church. The Spirit is the
Lord of the Community (Constantinople 381) which adores and prays to
him. In such a context, the Holy Spirit and the Church appear as two
realities facing one another. In passing, Prof. Benoit presents the hypothesis that if such Fathers as Athanasius and Basil refrained, in the 4th
century, from explicitly affirming the divinity of the Spirit, it is perhaps
because they were then unable to elaborate the relationship which exists
between the Spirit and the Church. At any rate, from the 4th century
onward, we witness a transformation from the genitive of object, i. e., the
Father gives the Spirit, to a genitive of subject, i.e., the Spirit gives and
is the subject of the gift. In other words, the personal role of the Spirit
comes to the fore as in Cyril of Jerusalem's Catechism (16-18) which is a
commentary of the 3rd article of the Creed.
During the Discussion, Msgr. Philips regrets that Prof. Benoit's Paper
does not take sufficiently into consideration the living faith of the Church
concerning the relationship of the Spirit and the Church such as found in
the Divine Liturgy. He also finds that the role of the Spirit in the life
of the individual Christian and in the case of ministerial ordination is
neglected.
Father E. Melia points out that St. Athanasius did affirm that the

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THOMAS R. POTVIN

Spirit is a subsistent Person, and this in the context of Soteriology and of
" Theosis." He also mentions the role of the monastic movement in the
development of the notion of the Spirit as a Person. Prof. Benoit replies
by pointing out the dangers inherent in studying the notion of the Spirit
as a Person in a static context and no longer in the context of Soteriology
and History of Salvation. Without mentioning the problem explicitly,
Prof. Benoit seems to be referring to the discussion on " Functional
Theology" versus "Ontological Theology."
Father Le Guillou, on the other hand, affirms the theological necessity of
developing the perspective of the Spirit and the Church in order to
safeguard the perspective of the Spirit in the Church.
Prof. Torrance is of the opinion that the notion of the Spirit is developed
by the Greek Fathers in opposition to Gnosticism, Stoicism, and Platonism.
Furthermore, he sees the theory of the Spirit as Soul of the Church as a
species of the Macedonian Heresy which considered the Spirit from the
point of view of creation while the Greek Fathers considered the Spirit
from the point of view of the Creator. Prof. Benoit admits that this
interpretation might be right from a systematic point of view, if not
from an historical one, since this theory is posterior to the writings of the
Fathers under review.
Prof. Benoit's paper manifests clearly the role of the life, worship, and
thought of the Church in drawing out the implications contained in
Scripture. In the present case, we see the advantages a definition of the
divinity of the Holy Spirit has for our understanding of the relationship
which exists between the Spirit and the Church. It would seem that such
a definition should also have repercussions on the debate over uncreated
and created Grace. In both cases our theology must take into consideration
the fact that the Holy Spirit is a divine Person, Lord and Giver of Life.
Nowhere in revelation is there question of a hypostatic union between the
Spirit and the Church or the Christians. If we do use the image of the
Spirit as soul of the Church, this in no way must imply that he is a
creature but must be understood rather in the line of thought of his
dynamism, his grace, while maintaining that it is the one Spirit who is at
work in Christ and in Christians.
HENRI RONDET, "L'Esprit saint et l'Eglise dans saint Augustin et dans
l'augustinisme," 153-178; Discussion, 179-194.
Following the lead of Lumen Gentium, Father Rondet divides his paper
into three sections: The Mystery of the Church; The Church as the
People of God; The Church as instrument of Salvation.

I. The Mystery of the Church.
Followers of Augustine, such as Bellarmine and Petau, considered grace
and predestination of the individual without explicit reference to the

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495

Church. Others, such as Anselm and the Nominalists, developed the notion
of the Vicarious Suffering of Christ in juridical terms. For Augustine, on
the other hand, the Theology of Grace is intimately linked to that of
Redemption and is dependent upon the Theology of the Incarnation and his
Ecclesiology. Augustine's development of the Pauline New Adam Typology
is well known as is his teaching on the Whole Christ, i. e., Christ and his
members.
As for the union which exists between the members of the Body of
Christ, it is the result of charity which is poured forth in our hearts
by the Holy Spirit. In this sense, we may speak of the Spirit as the soul
of the Church. The Spirit incorporates us in Christ by whose mediation we
return to the Father. Here we note that Augustine's Ecclesiology is linked
to his Theology of the Trinity. As for the Incarnation, it is prolonged by
the mission of the Church.

II. People of God.
This terminology is familiar to Augustine, but it is not for him of top
priority. He prefers the expression "City of God" which signifies a
humano-divine Community whose antecedents go back to the Just Abel
and the faithful angels of God. In a strict sense however, Abraham is
the Father of the faithful. With him begins the history of the People of
God and Revelation properly so-called.
As for the role of the Spirit, he is given primarily for the sanctification
of the individual and for the mission of the Apostles. The Spirit is given
from the very beginning, but always in reference with the Passion and
Resurrection.
The Church is born at Calvary, it is drawn from the side of the Crucified
Christ. With Pentecost, it is manifested to men and spreads throughout
the world thus becoming "the Catholica." The Church is the Mystical
Body of Christ and yet it is a strongly structured, visible society containing the one and the many at once, just and sinners, and united in Charity
and by the Apostolic Succession.
The Sacramentology of Augustine is linked to his Ecclesiology in that
the efficacity of the sacred signs is tied in with their relationship with the
Body of Christ. Moreover, there is a strong and intimate link between
the Eucharist and the Church.

III. The Church, the unique means of Salvation.
For Augustine, the Spirit is not found outside of the frontiers of the
visible Church or Body of Christ, the " Catholica." There is a Church
prior to THE Church: it is the Church of this world, a structured
society as well as the Body of Christ, and which is virtually the Celestial
Church. It is the sole Ark of Salvation. It contains, until Judgment Day,
both the just and the sinner. The role of the Spirit in this Church is to

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THOMAS R. POTVIN

grant us to be able to call out "Father," to preserves us in the unity
of the Body of Christ and to lead us back to the Father.
During the discussion, Msgr. Philips expresses the wish that more
attention be given to the Spirit's unifying function both in the Trinity
and in the Church. For Augustine in relation with Rom. 5:5, the Spirit
is Charity, Love, and Love is participation in God. On the other hand,
he notes that Augustine never affirms that the Spirit is the " soul " of
the Church but that what your soul is and does to your body, the Spirit
is and does to the Church. Furthermore, Augustine's position on the
equality of the Churches of the Old and New Testaments seems to stem
from his discussions with the Pelagians who contended that the members
of the Old Covenant were saved without Christ. Augustine replies that
they were saved by Christ and were already members of the Body of
Christ. But then, what becomes of the realism of the Incarnation and of
Pentecost found in the Greek Fathers? For Augustine, Pentecost signifies
that the Spirit is given with greater abundance and is more visibly present.
In reply, Fr. Rondet remarks that Augustine spoke of the presence of
pagans in the Church prior to the Pelagian Controversy.
There followed a long discussion on the teaching of Lumen Gentium on
the efficacity of the Sacraments of Baptism and Eucharist celebrated outside of the Catholic Church. Finally. Prof. Torrance invites us to always
go beyond the images of the Church to the reality they signify and thus
proceed in an exact and scientific manner. In the case of Augustine, his
poetical and metaphorical terms cannot be taken purely and simply as
dogmatic statements. This is a timely warning especially if we make an
inventory of the numerous and varied theories which all claim Augustine
as their father. A greater awareness is called for, and this is probably
the major contribution of Fr. Rondet's paper and the discussion which
it provoked.
M.-J. LE GUILLOU, "Reflexions sur Ia theologie des Peres grecs en
rapport avec le Filioque," 195-219; Discussion, 220-234.
In this paper, which is billed as an abridged form of a chapter of a
forthcoming book entitled L'experience ecclesiale de l'Esprit, Fr. Le
Guillou, starting with the Greek Fathers of the IVth and Vth centuries,
attempts to determine methodologically the object of their investigations
thus manifesting how the problem concerning the Spirit came into being
and its development until the time of John Damascene. This work is
divided into three major sections.
I. The Holy Spirit according to the Greek Fathers of the IVth and

Vth centuries.
1. Basing his remarks on texts of St. Basil and St. Gregory of Nyssa,

Fr. Le Guillou affirms that, firstly, "Theology"

is an intrinsic require-

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497

ment of "Economy," and, secondly, the elaboration of the Trinitarian
Dogma. by the Fathers took place in two phases:
a.. From the "Economy," one ascended to God the Father, the Source
of all revelation. From the Spirit received as Gift, one turns to the Son
who communicated him, and from the Son to the Father. The experience
of the Church commands the whole trinitarian reflection of the Greek
Fathers.
b. The second phase, which began with the Arian Crisis and which
ends with the Second Council of Constantinople (553), is maked by a
reflection on the trinitarian processions which attempts to recapitulate the
divinity in itself. It is this phrase which is the object of the present
study especially in the domain of Pneumatology.
fl. Theological considerations on the procession of the Holy Spirit.
Nicaea proclaimed the divinity of the Son who is generated by the
Father and thus consubstantial with him. But, what of the Spirit whose
task it is to make the Church divine?
a. The life of the Church is wholly dependent upon the action of the
Spirit who is God by nature. All affirmations concerning the divinity of
the Spirit seek essentially to defend the reality of the spiritual life of the
Church. In order to grant participation in divine life, the Spirit must
possess it by nature.
b. The Spirit is to the Son what the Son is to the Father. The Greek
Fathers of this period concentrate their attention especially on the
consubstantiality of the Spirit with the Father and the Son and his
procession from the Father. They do not consider specifically the relationship between the Spirit and the Son, although we do find some indications
in, for instance, the linear presentation of the Trinity where the notion of
"Inclusion" of the Persons is present.
II. Elements of a more elaborate reflection on the relationship between
the Holy Spirit and the Son. Fr. LeGuillou enumerates and develops
briefly three such elements, and concludes with the reason why this
reflection was not continued.
1. The Holy Spirit is said to be in the " middle " of the Father and
the Son in the sense of consubstantial with them. Yet a relationship oi
origin would seem to be implied due to the quotation of Jn. 7:38; 16:14 in
the present context.
fl. In the communication of the divinity to the Spirit, the Son has an
active role to play. We find texts affirming this in Epiphanius, Gregory
of Nyssa, and Leontius of Byzantium.
3. The Holy Spirit is dependent upon the Father and the Son for his
being. There are a few but seemingly certain texts in this line of thought.
However, this point is not fully and explicitly developed. Why?
4. The refusal to continue this type of theological investigation accord-

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THOMAS R. POTVIN

ing to the indications already furnished. Theodoret, who died in 460,
refused to accept the saying that the Spirit holds his existence from the
Son or by the Son. The existence of the Spirit comes from the Father.
The Son gives the Spirit to the faithful. The motive for this stand is the
refusal to go beyond that which is affirmed in Scriptures. In other
words, there was, at this point in time, a refusal to continue the effort
already begun in the case of the Son at Nicaea to coordinate the
"economy " with a " theology." Thus these Fathers wish to testify to
the great respect in which they hold the Mystery of the Trinitarian
Processions. But, the question remains, why stop at the Spirit after a long
theological effort has been made in the case of the Son? At any rate, it
seems clear that an effort must be made to deepen our knowledge in faith
of the relationship which exists between the Son and the Spirit. Theologians, on the other hand, must elaborate in greater detail the relationship
which exists between the "economy" and "theology."
The discussion, as one can imagine, was centered mostly on the
differences which exist between the Eastern and Western Churches concerning the relationship between the Son and the Spirit. However, one
question was asked of the Reformed Churches which sheds some light on
the implications of this problem. Why, it was asked, did the Reformed
Churches accept the "Filioque "? Because it was augustinian, was one
answer. In order, among other things, to maintain the Christological aspect
of the Church and thus avoid " enthusiasm " which, it is claimed, would
follow from the position that the Spirit proceeds uniquely from the
Person of the Father and not from the Divinity.
Prof. Torrance had some very pertinent remarks to make. He points
out that, when Greek thought defended itself against the notion of
" Filioque," it tended to become a prisoner of impersonal images such as
a fountain of water, the sun, and light which were used to illustrate the
" homoousion " of the Son but which needed to be broadened in order to in·
elude the " homoousion " of the Spirit. Augustine, with his more personal
representations of love and knowledge, was able to overcome this difficulty
in that the Spirit is said to come from the" koinonia" which exists between
the Father and the Son. But, even for the Orient, epistemologically the
doctrine of the Spirit is based on the mutual relationship which exists
between the Father and the Son. If such be the case from the epistemological point of view, does it not also hold true from the ontological point of
view? Furthermore, it would seem that the Greeks hold to the reality of
the " Filioque " since they teach that Salvation comes to us from the
Father, by the Son, in the Spirit. This "by the Son" signifies also
" in " the incarnate Person of the Son.
Fr. Bobrinskoy would have liked to have seen the principle of the
Monarchy of the Father emphasized more in the paper of Fr. Le Guillou,
for he claims that this principle is at work even in the few texts of the

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499

Greek Fathers where indications of the notion of " Filioque " are to be
found. Furthermore, he is of the opinion that these rare texts treat
rather of the economy of the Missions in time than of the eternal,
ontological processions within the Trinity. He also speaks of the Church
having overcome the temptation of the " Filioque " thanks to the Bible,
the Liturgy, and the realization that the Spirit as person is at work in
sanctification and in the fulfilment of the sacraments. There is a direct
relationship, on the one hand, between the Spirit and the faithful, the
Spirit and the Church, and, on the other hand, between the Spirit and
the Father. The Spirit is both a Person and the gift of the Three Persons
of the Trinity. If we admit the "Filioque" then we must admit also
the "Spirituque" which would oblige us to distinguish between the Spirit
as Person and the Spirit as energy. The notion of causality can be used to
distinguish between the Son and the Spirit but as a metaphysical notion it
is foreign to the biblical, spiritual, and liturgical outlook.
Fr. Scrima suggest that we consider once again the passage from the
" oikonomia " to the " Trinitas." While the notion of consubstantiality did
have an important role to play in the problem of the inner-trinitarian
relations, Christology was, for the Greek Fathers, the more central aspect
of the Economy. Now, Eastern Christology is dominated by the idea of the
"Mysterion" being realized in the flesh of Jesus in the sense that human
nature is deified in Christ by the Spirit. Occidental Christology, on the
other hand, is more corporeal in the sense that Christ is seen especially as
an instrumental cause. This latter type of Christology would seem to place
a "distance" between Christ and the Spirit and, consequently, lead to
two types of conceptual passages from the" oikonomia" to the" Trinitas ":
by way of analogy as in Augustine, and by way of analogy and causality as
in Medieval Scholasticism. Whereas Thomas can state that the only real
distinctions between the Persons is based on relations of opposition,
the Greek Fathers carefully situated the properties of the Persons, the
" gnorismata," and the relations, " skesis," in that the former cannot be
deduced from the latter without extrapolating a temporal model into
the absolute eternity of the Living God. For the East, the Three Persons
are given " a priori " whereas the question of origin is not treated in
terms of causality but of "taxis" and "perichorese."
In his reply, Fr. Le Guillou willingly admits to the importance of the
Monarchy of the Father in the thought of the Greek Fathers. On the
other hand, he is of the opinion that the manifestations of the Trinity in
time do refer back to their eternal foundation within inner trinitarian
life. He also recognizes that, in later Orthodox thought, the notion of
causality while speaking of the Trinity fell into disgrace, but such was not
the case with Gregory of Nyssa and other Greek Fathers. As for the
notions of " gnorismata " and " skesis," they would require a long technical
discussion which would lead beyond the scope of the present contribution.

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THOMAS R. POTVIN

He does note, however, that the later development in oriental theology
which led to the distinction between the eternal processions and the
eternal manifestations runs the risk of dissociating the Mystery of God
from its manifestation in time and of ignoring the link clearly affirmed by
the Fathers between the Economy and Theology. He also agrees that
Christology has an important role to play in the passage from Economy to
Trinity, but he finds that an Augustine for one maintained such a link.
He also recognizes the need for a deeper investigation of the notions of
analogy and causality. But, he maintains that there are points or at least
indications which are common to both traditions and which should be
explored. The Western Church continued its reflection on the "Filioque"
to the point of making it a dogma with deep spiritual implications. We
could possibly find a better expression, but it is hard to see how the
question of origin can be avoided. As for Photius's expression: " only of
the Father," the "only" is embarrassing unless it signifies the Father as
" fons," "origo."
Fr. J. Hajjar remarks that the "Filioque" controversy, on the one hand,
began in Judaea thanks to a conflict between the monks of Saint Sabas
and the Frankish monks of Mount Olivet some sixty years after the
death of John Damascene who had lived at Saint Sabas and who had
rejected the " Filioque." Two monks from Saint Sabas went to Charlemagne
in order to ask him to prevent his monks from inserting the " Filioque "
in the Creed. Thus this question got caught up within the larger controversy which pitted Charlemagne against the Byzantine Emperors. However, we cannot neglect the important influence of the liturgy attributed to
Severns of Antioch, during the Vth century, with its insistence on the
monarchical relationships which exist between the Father and the Son and
the Father and the Spirit. It is in such a liturgical tradition that should
be sought the basic origin not only of the theological doctrine concerning
the " Filioque " and the Holy Spirit but also the teaching on the Church.
For indeed, the imaginative and figurative style of the Oriental Theology
and Liturgy is more than merely a notion of theology based on the Bible.
It is a type of semantics, a literary expression of a liturgical experience.
Fr. Le Guillou terminates the discussion by reaffirming his conviction
that there is a need for the passage from the Economy to Theology, that
there cannot be a God " for us " unless there is a God " in himself." All
would seem to agree that there is a need for the theological elaboration of
the relationships which the Spirit entertains with the Father and the Son.
S. DOCKX, " L'Eglise, epiphanie de l'Esprit saint,"

Discussion,

The revelation of the Spirit as a Person is the ultimate revelation, that
which is granted by the Father by the Resurrected and Glorified Son and

" ESPRIT SAINT ET L'EGLISE "

501

destined for the believer and the Church. Such is the gist of the opening
statement of this paper which is divided into nine points.
1. The Mission of the Word of God.

It is only with the New Testament that the Word of God appears as a
Pen•on distinct from yet identical with God. This revelation is granted to
man progressively in Jesus of Nazareth. The Incarnation then reveals to
us both the duality and the unity of God. God expresses himself totally
in his Word who is distinct from him by a relation of opposition. It is the
temporal mission of the Word in this world which reveals the procession
of the Son in the heart of God.
Q.

The Mission of the Spirit.

The Spirit is the other Intercessor. He is not merely the creative power
of God hut the Spirit who subsists as an intelligent and free person
distinct from the one who sends him as in the case of the Son. He is
distinct from both the Father and the Son who send him. The temporal
mission of the Spirit in the world leads us to the knowledge of his intradivine origin from the Father and the Son indistinctly.
3. That which is proper to the Son and to the Spirit.

The Son is the subsistent Word of God in whom God is expressed fully.
The Spirit is the Love of the Father and of the Son giving themselves
wholly one to the other. The Son addresses himself to our intelligences in
order to reveal to us the Mystery of God which is his love for us. However, this love can only be understood if we are enlightened interiorly by
the Spirit. It is the Spirit of Pentecost who grants a loving knowledge of
the love of the Son on the Cross.
4. The Epiphany of both the Word and of the Holy Spirit.

At present, we know only the manifestation of the Incarnate Son in
his human nature. Once we have put on spiritual and immortal bodies,
we shall know him in his Glory. Between these two manifestations of
the Son lies the time of the Church, the Epiphany of the Spirit. The
Spirit is present in the individual soul through charity. Mutual love among
members of the Church makes the Spirit visible to the world. In other
words, just as the assumed humanity of Christ manifests the Son, the
Body of Christ which is the Church manifests the Spirit. It is only in the
Church that the Spirit of Truth is manifested. The Father and the Son
are one not only in the divine nature but also in the Spirit who is the
subsistent Common Love of the Father and the Son. Christians also are
one in the unique Spirit of Love who, in turn, is manifested by the Church.
The Spirit belongs to the " eschaton " as does the Eucharist. Thus the

THOMAS R. POTVIN

Spouse and the Spirit cry Maranatha. It is because of the prayer of the
Spirit that the Son comes in that ecclesial Parousia which is the Eucharist.

5. The Work of the Spirit in the Church.
According to Acts, the first effect of the gift of the Spirit is to have the
Church render witness to the Son. The Apostles witness to the events of
the Life of Christ and the Spirit grants them their meaning. He is a
Spirit of Prophecy, the Guide to total truth which will be revealed at the
Parousia. It is he who brings us to the Son.
6. The teaching of the Liturgy concerning the proper mysteries of the

Son and the Spirit.
The Liturgical Year is dominated by the feasts of Easter and Pentecost.
Easter reinterprets the Jewish Passover in the light of the passage of
Christ from death to Life and his return to the Father. Pentecost reinterprets the Jewish Pentecost in the light of the Person of the Spirit who
is the first-fruits of the gifts of God to his people in his Son, Jesus. The
Spirit who is given is not merely an intervention of God which, through
appropriation, would be termed the Spirit of God. It is the very Person
of the Spirit who constitutes the first-fruits of Glory.
7. The Spirit and baptism of water in the name of Jesus.

Baptism incorporates man into the group of those who place themselves
under the influence of Jesus and share in his Spirit. The whole Trinity is
at work in Baptism because of the gift of the Spirit who is the Spirit of
the Father and of the Son. Man is justified because of the presence of the
Spirit in him who unites man to Christ who in turn makes that man becomes
the son of the Father. Thus the whole Trinity, considered as three
distinct Persons in intimate communion among themselves, is at work in
Justification and Baptism.
8. The Holy Spirit and Baptism in the Spirit.

The gift of the Spirit does not imply merely filial adoption but also the
power of miracles and prophecy. Prophecy works in the Church and filial
adoption in the individual. Through Baptism of water in the name of
Jesus, each member is incorporated in the Church of God through the gift
of the Spirit in Person. Through Baptism of the Spirit, the Spirit descends
on the Church itself granting charismata to the members for the good of
the Church of this world.
9. Personal presence of the Spirit in souls and in the Church.

Through Charity, the Spirit in person is given. Such is not necessarily
the case with the charismata. This, according to Fr. Docla:'s book, Fils

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503

de Dieu par Grace, is the teaching of St. Thomas which he received from
the Greek Fathers. Divine operations ad extra such as grace, which have
for effect to unite us to divine Life, should not be considered merely under
their aspect of created effects but also in their relationship with the
reality with which we are united, God. Thus, in charity, man is united
to the Spirit even though this union is the fruit of the common will of
the Three Persons. Through the one Spirit, all are united to Christ,
become members of his Body, the Church.
A rather long discussion followed the reading of this paper. It was
emphasized over and over again that theological considerations did not
pretend to demonstrate the Mystery of the Trinity but merely manifest it,
and that such a passage from the Economy to the Trinity was necessary in
order to preserve the Mystery of the Trinity from false interpretations, to
deepen our knowledge in faith of so central a mystery, and to be better
prepared to proclaim it as a saving reality to the Church so that our
Doxology might be all the more intense. It might be of some use here to
enumerate some of the inadequacies of a theological system pointed out
in the discussion.
Fr. Bobrinskoy finds that Fr. Dockx's treatment of the Logos in the
Trinity is too exclusively intellectual without taking sufficiently into
account the dynamic aspect of the Logos of God found in the Bible. He
also thinks that there is not sufficient biblical evidence to attribute Love
exclusively to the Spirit as a personal property. Fr. Dockx replied that
both St. Augustine and St. Thomas, while remain faithful to Revelation,
attempted to formulate a cohenent system of thought on the Trinity
realizing full well that the Mystery of the Trinity remains intact. Indeed,
even the Bible reverts to a multiplicity of divine names in order to express
the reality of God. According to Fr. H. de Lubac, even though our
theological systems, all of which are inadequate, differ, our Faith and the
Spirit are one and the same. On the other hand, there has always been an
effort to go beyond a mere functional theology and to elaborate a
systematic theology which remains in close contact with Scriptures.
Fr. E. Melia expresses the wish that the Western Church be attentive to
the testimony of the Eastern Church, namely, that if we hope to deepen our
knowledge of the Father, we must deepen our knowledge not only of the
Son but also of the person of the Spirit, of the Mystery of the Spirit, and
that if we overlook the place of the Spirit in doxology, we shall lose from
sight the Father. Doxology, invocation and prayer must come to the aid
of Theology.
Fr. A. Scrima added two remarks to this discussion. First of all, it is
important to realize just how much the realities sought through the use
of theological notions continue to exist and to operate even though they
do not always verify our categories and systems. Secondly, it is important
that we recognize, in a system which would be other than ours, the pivotal

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points of meaning which seeks to express the Mystery of God. The motivations as well as the end sought might then converge, and then a pluralism
of theological expressions would find their justification and the perils of
conceptualism would be avoided. Concepts are necessary for our understanding of the Mystery of God in this world. But, although they are
limited by their logico-grammatical articulation, they can attain a degree of
lesser inadequacy to express the Mystery to a kind of symbolic transparency. A power of evocation should penetrate theological reflection.
The concept, assumed by the meaning of the mystery, would be granted an
ever-renewed antinomic equilibrium between interiority and transcendence,
between the proper and necessary coherence of theological language and its
radical limitation which would be transformed in a no less coherent
evocation of a plenitude of meaning. This is a project for a type of
theological thought intimately linked with a certain notion of the Church
such as that found in the Orient.
Prof. Torrance suggests that, since there is no " eldos " of the Spirit, we
revert in speaking of him to such categories as translucence and transparency since the Spirit is, in a manner, the light with which the Father
illuminates the face of the Son thanks to which we grasp the face of the
Father reflected in the face of the Son. However, it is in and with this
knowledge of the Father and the Son that we perceive the Spirit through
the splendor of the light which he is. The Spirit can also be conceived as
perfection or " telei:Osis" of divine operation in so far as it is brought to
its fulfilment and achievement in us in relationship with its source in God.
While agreeing in substance with this position, Fr. Bobrinskoy draws our
attention to the names which the Spirit does receive in Scriptures,
especially that of Paraclete, and states that they should be taken into
consideration in any Pneumatology.
Fr. G. Dejaifve returned to the question of the relationship which exists
between the Mission of the Son and that of the Spirit implying that, for
the Eastern theologians, the return of the Spirit to the Father does not
seem to pass through the Son Incarnate. Fr. Bobrinskoy, in reply, points
out that there is a reciprocal relationship between the two Missions. The
Holy Spirit is the one who gives us Christ through his work in the Incarnation, Baptism, Resurrection, and Ascension of Christ, as well as the one
who is sent by Christ. It is nevertheless true that the Spirit brings us
back to the Father by the Son. Nor, according to Fr. Scrima, does the
Oriental Church neglect the role of the Incarnation since it teaches that
with the Incarnation Christ took on the whole of the " olkinomia," deified
the whole of human nature in himself. Already at this level we find an
essential connection between Christology and Pneumatology in that ChristPneumatophore comes with the plenitude of the Spirit, and the Spirit comes
to manifest him fully.

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505

TH. F. TORRANCE, "La mission de l'Eglise," 275-294; Discussion, 295306.
Prof. Torrance divided his paper into five major points.
1. The Sending of the Spirit and the Mission of the Church.

We can speak of a double mission: that of the Spirit and that of the
Apostles. Christ himself was the Apostle of the Father, but not merely a
representative of God. He is the very Word of God. Jesus, on the other
hand, sent the Apostles as his representatives, other than himself, in order
to testify to him and his word throughout history. Christ sent also the
Spirit, the Spirit of Truth as his personal representative. Thus, Christ is
present in his Church through the Mission of the Spirit and through
apostolic testimony which is the reflection and the echo of the self-witness
of Christ before the world.
2. The Church is communion with the Spirit.

Communion in the Spirit should be understood in a manner analogous
with the union of God and man realized in the Incarnation, the life and
the deeds of Christ. For man, there are not two types of union with
Christ: one realized in the Incarnation and the other with Christ by the
Spirit and faith, but one union which Christ creates between us and himself
in which we participate through the Spirit whom he gives to us. The
Church then is the corporate union with Christ realized through communion with the Sprit.
The union realized by Christ through his Incarnation and work of
Redemption concerns the whole of creation, and this fact determines the
scope of activity of the Spirit. But, since the Spirit is sent by Christ, he
is at work in a special manner where the name of Christ is invoked, i. e.,
the Church.
On the one hand, this union between Christ and the Church is to be
considered as a whole, as the Body of Christ. The Church is the inner
circle of Christ's relationship with all men, the place where communion
with the Spirit operates in the very heart of created social relationships.
The promise of the gift of the Spirit is to be found within the unique
Body of Christ. There exists a strict correlation between communion with
the Spirit and corporeal union with Christ.
On the other hand, we must also recognize the union which exists
between Christ and the individual believer. The Son of God assumed an
individual human nature through which all men come into contact with
the Father in a personal and historical manner. The Spirit works in
harmony with this particular man, Jesus, and in and by him with all men.
Moreover, it is through the word, that means of personal communication,
that Christ wished to come into contact with all men. To this word, the

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THOMAS R. POTVIN

Gospel, the Glorified Christ joined the Mission of the Spirit so that the
word become the Words of the living God, the Words which are Spirit and
Life.
Yet, both the corporate and the individual aspects of union with
Christ are intimately linked since Christ is the one and the many at
once; the one who includes the many, the many who include one another.

3. The Church and the Community of the New Covenant.
The exterior form of the Covenant according to the New Economy is
manifested in the sacraments, especially those of Baptism and the
Eucharist. The interior form is communion of the Spirit. The total
substance of the New Covenant is Jesus Christ to whose Body the faithful
are united in the Spirit.
4. The Church is the Kingdom of Christ.

The Glorified Christ rules by his word and his Spirit. The Church is
the sphere of his rule as well as his instrument. It is the provisional
New Creation in the midst of the old. It should be oriented by the Spirit
towards all those for whom Christ took on flesh. The life and the
existence of the Church is coextensive with the activity of the Spirit and
the reign of Christ. There is tension between the Church and the world,
and, in the Spirit, the Church judges the world until the triumphant
Return of Christ. And yet, at the same time, the Church is sent to the
world to proclaim Christ and his Gospel.

5. One Spirit and one Church.
Since there is one Christ and one Spirit, there is one Body which is
organically united to Christ by the Spirit. By the outpouring of the Spirit
Christ continues to be present in the midst of the Church of which he
constitutes the essence. Christ is the foundation of unity upon whom the
Spirit builds. There is one Mediator, one Incarnation, one Expiation, one
Spirit and thus one Church, the Body of Christ. Consequently, unity
reveals the very essence of the Church both in its exterior and interior
life. The Church must bring this message of Reconciliation and of Unity
to a divided world, thus continuing the mission of the Apostles. This
nature of the Church is revealed and realized in the ministry of the Word
and in the celebration of Baptism and of the Eucharist. Those who
preach the Word and celebrate the sacraments derive their authoritave
mission immediately from Christ through his Spirit and mediately from
Christ through the apostolic foundation of the Church. As for intercommunion, although eminently desirable, it requires at the same time that a
solution to differences be found before communion in order to achieve
reconciliation, and a solution must be found in and through communion in
order to realize together the reality of unity.

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507

During the discussion Prof. Schweizer remarks that the whole development of Prof. Torrance is centered on the notion of " body " which is to
be found in the paraenetic sections of the Major Pauline Epistles whereas
there are many other images used to describe the Church in the N. T.
such as People of God. He expresses the fear that with the exclusive use
of the notion of the body we end up with an identification of the Church
with Christ. It is true that Christ is said to be in all things in Col. 1: 15-fW,
but Prof. Schweizer is of the opinion that this text is a preexistent hymn
with strong stoic overtones which Paul or a disciple nuanced in the course
of the same Epistle. He believes that the category of the Lordship of
Christ is better suited for dialogue between Christians since it manifests
the requirement of man's obedience. In reply, Prof. Torrance maintains
that the notion of the Body of Christ is characteristic of the N. T. and
expresses very well the relationship which exists between the Eucharist
and the Church. Furthermore, the notion of the New Adam and of
incorporation in Christ through Baptism is to be found in Rom. 5-6 which
are not merely paraenetic but descriptive of the essence of the union which
exists between Christ and the Church. If we ask where is the Church, we
must answer it is that humanity which Christ has assumed in all things
going so far as to take on sin in order to cure and sanctify man. As for
incorporation, it implies both union and communion together.
Brother Max Thurian took up the objection anew pointing out that the
term " soma " is not applied univocally to the Church and to the
Eucharist in the N. T., and that it was not a popular term in ecumenical
dialogue especially with its connotation of organization, institution, and
structure. Prof. Torrance answers that he does not think that the N. T.
notion of Body is so easily grasped. He points ·out the intimate link which
exists between Baptism by which we are incorporated in Christ and the
eucharistic eating of his Body and drinking of his Blood. Besides, behind
the notion of the eucharistic Body there is a vast Hebrew background with
corporate implications. But, the real problem here seems to be a methodological one. If we adopt a scientific method, we seek through a passage
from the multiple to the simple to penetrate to the very heart of the
question. The notion of the Body of Christ may be considered as a
theological explicative model which reaches past description to the reality
signified. Turning to the question of the Apostolicity of the Church, Prof.
Torrance states that two aspects must be taken into consideration: the
relationship between the Church and the Resurrected Christ in the Spirit,
and an historical succession which would preserve the link between the
historical Christ and the Church throughout time and space.

B.-D. DUPUY, "Esprit saint et anthropologie chretienne,"
cussion,

Dis-

Christian Revelation, according to Fr. Dupuy, has given us both a

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THOMAS R. POTVIN

Theology and an Anthropology. The latter, although it has been developed
throughout the tradition of the Church, has not been the object of conciliar
declarations. Yet, theological considerations are intimately linked with
the development of a christian Anthropology 88 we shall see in the three
sections of Fr. Dupuy's paper.

I. Considerations on the apophatic situation of Christian Theology.
Theology experiences great difficulty in speaking of the Spirit since the
very tenn used to designate him, " spirit," does not characterize that
which is proper to him nor his mode of procession within the Trinity.
The Spirit is perceived in the life of the faithful rather than confessed in
words. This fact entails two major consequences.
a} We can speak of the Spirit only by speaking of his "works" or
" activity " in the Church. Theologians then must concentrate on the
" Economy " and hold together as one the operations of God and man.
b) Because of the unknowability of the Spirit and the Trinity as a
whole, we turn to such images 88 light, water, the faculties of intellectual
beings. This is legitimate, but we must remember that we are in the
domain of simple analogy. The advantages of such images lies in the
fact that, detached from the Economy, there is less danger of confusing
divine principle with human effects, and, being more intellectual, they
are accessible to an aware and purified mind. However, they may lead
merely to apropriation, to the manifestation of "aspects" of God. No
matter what approach we take, we must recognize as essential the apophatic
character of the Trinity and even of the doctrine of man and of the Church.
II. Towards an anthropological Theology.
We lack a Christian anthropology based on the Mystery of God and
animated by the Mystery of the Holy Spirit. Man is the lieu of the divine
Economy, of the action of the Spirit. The fundamental question is that
of the regeneration of man by the Spirit and of his incorporation into the
unity of the Church.
Examining the anthropological signification of the doctrine of the
divinity of the Spirit, we find 1) that when the Church confesses the
divinity of the Spirit, she recognizes his action in creation stating that he
is the Creator and not a creature; 2) when the Church confesses that the
Spirit is the Creator and the Sanctifier, she recognizes his proper personality. She recognizes the unknowable and adores him. This is knowledge
by negation in that the Church knows the Spirit 88 other than the Father
and the Son. We are granted the capacity of recognizing the action of the
unknowable God since, if the Spirit bids his own hypostasis, he reveals it
by granting us to know the Son and by revealing to us the Father through
the Son; 8) when the Church confesses the personality of the Spirit, she

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509

recognizes in God the source of all " communion " since the Spirit is
known only in his relationship to the Father and the Son.

III. Towards an anthropological Pneumatology.
The Church is the manifestation of the Holy Spirit at work in humanity.
1. Christian faith implies a certain sense of the spiritual " person " as
well as the Mystery of the Holy Spirit. Judeo-Christian revelation prepares
the way for modem existential philosophies in that it conceives of the
person as existing through an actual and ever-renewed communication of
being. Indeed, Christian Anthropology always had recourse to the Spirit
in order to speak of the spiritual person. There is a transcendency or
mystery of spiritual being which is a person. Christian Theology seeks to
see the person in his singularity. He is a spiritual creature called to
encounter God and thus incorruptible, immortal, and destined to Glory.
This notion of " person " is linked to a certain regime of knowledge in
faith. Consequently, there exists in knowledge in faith a personal and
apophatic moment which should be taken into consideration in the genesis
of the formulations of faith and dogmatic definitions.
2. Christian faith grants us a vivid meaning of the notion of the
liberty of man. The Fathers of the Church have a philosophy not only of
being but of created being and especially of spiritual creatures. For
Origen, for instance, the Father grants existence to all creatures; the
Logos furnishes reason and liberty to intelligent and free beings; the
Spirit crowns the divine work in giving to the Saints to participate in himself. It is also interesting to note that the role of the spiritual will was
recognized in the light of the doctrine of the two wills in Christ. But, even
before this development, the Fathers elaborated the notion of the
"autexousia," the auto-ipseity, the personal autonomy of man. Gregory
of Nyssa states that liberty manifests the very being of man. Liberty taken
in the sense of liberation as well as free will since Christ liberates man
from his passions and alienations and gives him his true nature. Christian
liberty, however, is not opposed to authority but is a quality of personal
existence manifested in the general order of creation and within the
Economy of Salvation both of which are founded on divine initiative. Being
a call to liberation, liberty means Salvation. Applying this teaching to
the Church, there are two hazards which must be avoided: identifying the
Church with an institutional system, since indeed the Spirit remains the
Lord of the Institution; and opposing the Church seen as a juridical
society to the Community or spiritual Church, since the Spirit is at work
in both and he is a Spirit of Unity.
3. A third characteristic of the notion of the person in the works of the
Fathers is life in communion. Spiritual life and liberty should engender
mutual love. " Koi'nonia " is an anthropological term designating the

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THOMAS R. POTVIN

unity of the whole man mystically restored in the Church. Man, remade
in the image of God, has entered into a state of resemblance with the
unique God in Three Persons and become, in turn, a being of communion
moving towards union of all things in God. Indeed, " koinonia " signifies
participation in the same life and is the effective manifestation of the
presence of the Spirit in humanity. This notion of communion has, of
course, its repercussions on Ecclesiology. The Law of the Church is to be
conceived as the guardian of communion. Its legislation is less precise and
less demanding than that of civil society. Tendencies towards casuistics
and centralization should be avoided since the main reference for all this
activity is the union of all men in the Spirit.
During the discussion Fr. de Lubac suggests that a Christian Anthropology would do well to seek inspiration from the tripartite notion of man
in I Thess. 5:28, namely, spirit, body, and soul. Many Fathers of
the Church as well as medieval authors did so. According to such a division the notion of spirit would refer to man's openness to and dependence
upon God, and especially the Holy Spirit. Between the body and the spirit
would lie an intermediate state, composed of man's natural faculties, in
which the drama of his salvation would be played. We are speaking here
of the dynamic structure of man.
Continuing this line of thought, Fr. Scrima presents the contribution of
Eastern Tradition concerning the relationship " pneuma-anthropos " with
its major coordinates centered on the 0. T., the Incarnation, and the
Liturgy. From the 0. T. are drawn the notions of God's total ascendency
over man, his eschatological presence and, in man, the heart considered as
the organ of man's insertion, as image of God, in God-Spirit. With the
Incarnation, the work of the Son and the Spirit correspond to one another
so that a theocentric Anthropology finds its necessary achievement in the
spirit of both man and God. Finally, in the Liturgy, which is called
Mystagogy, the action of the Spirit, the Mystery of the Economy are
applied to man so as to touch him interiorly.
Fr. Bobrinskoy, on the other hand, finds it impossible to speak of a
pneumatological Anthropology without constant reference to Christology
since it is through Christ that we receive the Spirit of God who is other
than the spirit of man, although man, as the image of God, is open to the
reception of the Spirit sent by Christ.
Pastor Roux warns against placing too much emphasis on a tripartite
anthropology which is found only in I Thess. 5:28. He has no difficulty in
showing that Paul's vocabulary on Anthropology is far from being stable,
v. g. I Cor. 2; 5; 15.
Following the lead of St. lrenaeus, Prof. Torrance agrees that any
Christian Anthropology must be Christocentric since, with the Incarnation,
an ontological relationship has been established between all men and the
Logos made flesh, and since, with the achievement of the work of the

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511

Incarnation, the Spirit has been poured-out on all flesh. The spiritual man
is the one who accepts this in faith and lives according to the Spirit. The
carnal man is the one who refuses it.
One point in particular impressed Mgr. P. L'Huillier, and that is the
notion of the Spirit as the builder and animator of Communion, " koinonia."
He believes that a development of this notion would enhance greatly our
chances of bridging our differences both in Christology and Ecclesiology.
It is certain that the role of the Spirit in the Body of Christ has taken on
importance in the past twenty years. In faith, we know that he will lead
us to the fulness of Truth.
THOMAs

Dominican College
Ottawa, Canada

R. PoTviN, 0. P.

REVIEW ARTICLE: FOUNDATIONAL REALITY AND
THREE APPROACHES: MACKINNON,
HARVEY, AND LONERGAN

I

N THE LAST chapter of his recent book Truth and Expression (New
York, 1971) Edward MacKinnon makes a key distinction between
the truth of a theological doctrine and the conceptual framework against
which the doctrine is framed and spoken. For example, the doctrine on
the two natures of Christ as expressed at Chalcedon is a creedal statement,
but the believer is not thereby committed to the underlying conceptual
world view that understands a person as "nature plus properties." (p. 154)
Furthermore, maintaining a theological formulation is no guarantee that
one is maintaining the same theological proposition. (p. 184) Frameworks
can shift, and the primary meaning of a formulation arises in terms of a
given cultural and philosophical world view, even if the ontology operative
in one's language and thinking remains unexpressed. " The meaning attached to such formulations is not fixed by the formulations themselves."
(p. 135)
The recurrent theme and focus of MacKinnon's discussion is " covariance
under conceptual transformations."
This idea originates in science and
concerns the place of empirical generalizations in conceptual systems. Such
a generalization
seeks to express in a unified way a functional relationship found in a multitude of
particular instances. It achieves this by the introduction and systematic deployment of technical terms and by an idealization which smooths out the individuating
features found in particular instances. . . . Empirical generalizations use a conceptual framework as a vehicle for distinguishing and relating elements, but the
emphasis is on the relation expressed rather than on the manner in which the
elements are categorized. For this reason the distinguishing truth-feature of such
generalizations is their covariance (or form-invariance) under conceptual transformations. (p. 151)

And again:
Accepting an empirical generalization as true need not entail accepting the conceptualization employed as correct or irreformable. What it does entail is that
any subsequent conceptualization of the same domain contains propositions which
play the role played by empirical generalizations accepted as true in the original
framework. (pp. 106-7)

In attempting

to reformulate ancient doctrines for his day, the con-

5U

FOUNDATIONAL

REALITY AND THREE APPROCHES

513

temporary theologian must " distinguish and relate the constitutive elements
of those doctrines in such a way that they manifest a covariance with the
structure of the authoritative but outdated formulation." (p. 156) With
respect to propositions that are designated " theologically certain " and
which, like doctrines, are embedded in conceptual frameworks, MacKinnon
suggests it may be necessary to redefine " theologically certain " in terms
of "non-revealed doctrines that must be accepted as true in any framework in which doctrines, accepted as true because revealed, can receive
an intelligible formulation." (p.
Again, one cannot accept a scriptural teaching as true unless he admits
to a covariance between scriptural propositions and our own formulations.
(p. 177) And again, if the Fathers of the Church were able to relate
allegorical meaning to scriptural meaning, there had to be some covariance
across interpretative frameworks. (p.
Finally, in redeveloping theological doctrines, as in the development of science, " true progress preserves
and makes manifest the invariance that is present at a deep structural
level." (p.
Our concern here is with what precisely is invariant at the deep structural
level of theology. MacKinnon has put the problem of redeveloping
formulations quite well, but it remains to be seen what covariance across
conceptual frameworks consists of in theology. Even the christological
problem which he offers as the representative theological sample of an
empirical generalization in shifting conceptual systems does not reveal the
basic invariance in theology. Now we can easily cite a series of statements
on the divinity of Christ all of which were put forward by different people
at various times:
To accept as valid the conceptual framework in which any one of these statements
is embedded while denying the truth of the particular statement is to deny the
divinity of Christ. To affirm them all as true in a maximal sense, the propositions
along with their framework presuppositions, entails affirming contradictory propo·
sitions. (p. 184)

Presumably the core of each proposition is that Christ is both human and
divine, but how do we grasp the core meaning of this creedal affirmationa meaning which is distinct from yet dependent upon the linguistic
expression of the meaning, just as the expression is distinct from yet
dependent upon the underlying framework? Somehow the core meaning
is covariant, riding across every conceptual framework. Still, without
tackling the matter of religious language, or the difference between an
act of understanding and its expression, we can ask, What are the invariant
structures behind theological propositions?
The question about invariance is not novel. Van Harvey in The
Historian and the Believer (New York, 1966) heads towards the question
when he writes that

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WILLIAM E. REISER

the heart of both the kerygma and the proclamation of Jesus is a certain understanding of man before God, that it is the anthropology which is the constant and
the christology which is the variable. (p. 252)

Revelation consists largely of paradigmatic events, events that combine
concrete occurrences with a wider meaning. Religious paradigmatic events
are believed to focus some insight into the nature of reality itself, or more
precisely into the nature of reality so far as it bears on the human quest for
liberation and fulfillment . . . They contain concepts that provide an orientation
for thinking about existence itself. (p. 258)

Owing to the fusion of the variable and the constant, the Christ of John's
gospel constitutes a call to faith and provides a medium of grace even
though the Johannine Christ is so different from the historical Jesus.
(p. QSO) In fact, this means that "the content of faith can as well be
mediated through a historically false story of a certain kind as through a
true one." (p. Q81) Properly understood, the Christian responds to the
image of Jesus with faith only if that image reveals and interprets "the
structure and character of reality itself":
Jesus Christ is the key image in a parable which the Christian uses to interpret
the more inclusive reality with which all men are confronted and of which they
try to make some 8ense. (p. 283)

Harvey sees the objection implied by his presentation: if Jesus leads
men to a grasp of reality itself by revealing to his followers the meaning
of human authenticity, then it follows that Jesus is the variable in our
realizing a fundamental (and invariant?) anthropology. He attempts to
settle the objection by pointing out the unhistorical view which the
objection presupposes:
The distinction between timeless truths and events is simply too crude for
theological or philosophical purposes . . . the power of a paradigmatic event
(p. 286)
is precisely the fusion of universality and particularity.

One does not arrive at authenticity
persons that mediated his arrival:

and then abandon the images and

We are what we are, and our interpretations are what they are, because certain
truths are indissolubly and powerfully wedded to certain persons in our historical
past. . . . The Christian community cannot disavow its own historical past, a
past that constitutes the Christ event as the decisive one for its self-understanding.
(pp. 287, 288)

The views of both MacKinnon and Harvey bear a striking resemblance
to each other. Each wants to meet the puzzle of an historically mediated
invariance. For MacKinnon, the issue settles on the truth value of
propositions and theories, the covariance of basic meaning, and shifting

FOUNDATIONAL

REALITY AND THREE APPROCHES

515

conceptual frameworks. For Harvey, the question looks to the relation
of particular events (or to a particular person) not directly reachable by
historical studies to a realm of experience and of significance radicated in
the universal character of human existence. For MacKinnon, the theological challenge is to reformulate ancient religious meanings within our
present conceptual framework; the ongoing, historical character of human
living demands this. For Harvey, theological concern for believers who are
in history invites a new look at the role Christ plays in revealing the transhistorical structures of human existence. For MacKinnon, the success of the
venture to eliminate conceptual dislocations from theology depends on locating an invariant structure within theology itself. This discovery must be
made before we can redevelop those doctrines that the modern world finds
meaningless in terms of its experience and its conceptual framework.
For Harvey the memory-image of Jesus must be historicized to be understandable in terms of contemporary experience and not left clad in firstcentury mythology or in the symbolism of a later age. Both writers are
seaching for foundational reality, for a transcultural base upon which the
theological enterprise can be worked out. Finally, for MacKinnon history
sets the problem, epistemology defines it, and theoretical invariance is
projected as a conceptual solution. For Harvey, on the other hand, belief
sets the problem, historical studies define it, and the Christ as interpreter
of the experiential invariance of human living is offered as the solution.
We suggest that the issue which MacKinnon and Harvey share is first,
though not primarily, methodological. Theology can be conceived as a
process in which several specializations are functionally related and together head towards cumulative and progressive results.' Part of that
process will involve reconceptualizing old doctrines and developing a new
systematics; part of it will also consist of facing the task which history
sets for intelligent belief. And part of that process will require that
theologians determine how and where theology is provided with its
foundations. Again, part of that process will address the need for categories
founded in human experience which can serve as touchstones for theological
advances. These categories will provide, therefore, structural features that
are at once invariant and open to the cultural and historical nature of
human development. Because the features are structural they will be
immanent and operative in one's language and thought; they will even
be prior to the undisclosed but real viewpoint of man and his world which
a living language holds. Because they are universal, the structural features
will provide a basis for eventual dialogue between theologians of various
religious persuasions and will explain the occurrence of similarities among
various theologians as well as offer a platform for reconciling dissimilarities.
1

Bernard Lonergan, " Functional Specialties in Theology," Gregorianum 50:3-4

(1969).

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WILLIAM E. REISER

Finally, because they are universal, these features will invest theological
development with historical continuity.
The preceding paragraph represents a summary description of the intent
behind Lonergan's work on theological method. We have given it in order
to show how the relationship between MacKinnon and Harvey points in
a common direction to a more embracing and developed view of theological
process. A second issue which they share regards what Lonergan refers
to as" foundational reality." The basic notions are horizon and conversion.
Horizon is literally the range of one's viewing from a determinate viewpoint. Horizon encompasses the possible worlds of meaning, together with
all their intentionality structures and pro-jects, which human consciousness
through successive differentiation can generate. Thus we may find that
the horizon of undifferentiated consciousness is constituted only by the
world of common sense, while for scientifically differentiated consciousness
it is constituted by the world of common sense and the world of theory,
and for religiously differentiated consciousness horizon is composed at
least of the world of common sense and the world of transcendence.
Further worlds are yet possible, and any one man's consciousness may have
undergone one, two, three, or more differentiations. Moreover, relative
horizon is not the same as basic horizon. While the former looks to one's
horizon relative to a particular culture, a given historical period, a present
level of personal development, entrance into basic horizon relates to the
presence or absence of intellectual, moral, or religious conversion. Essentially, conversion brings about an horizon shift; conversion is the transformation of the human subject that occurs when he comes into secure touch
with the invariant structures of human authenticity.
For Lonergan, then, foundational reality is associated with conversion.
He speaks about it thus:
Convension involves a new understanding of oneself because, more fundamentally,
it brings about a new self to be understood. It is putting off the old man and
putting on the new. It is not just a development but the beginning of a new mode
of developing.
Conversion is three-dimensional. It is intellectual inasmuch as it regards our
orientation to the intelligible and the true. It is moral inasmuch as it regards
our orientation to the good. It is religious inasmuch as it regards our orientation
to God. The three dimensions are distinct, so that conversion can occur in one
dimension without occurring in the other two, or in two dimensions without occurring in the other one. At the same time, the three dimensions are solidary. , . ."

Intellectual conversion puts one in touch with the procedures and demands
of his cognitional operations. Moral conversion corrects one's choosing and
deciding so that he is not motivated by satisfactions and gratifications but
by values. Religious conversion reforms one's living through falling in love
• Lonergan, Doctrinal Pluralism (Milwaukee, 1971), pp. 83-5.

FOUNDATIONAL REALITY AND THREE APPROCHES

517

with God, for one advances in his development as a person to the degree
that he succeeds in transcending himself: it is by self-sacrificing love that
he accomplishes this, and love of God who is the fuHillment of one's
being makes possible the fullest measure of his potential for development.
To repeat, these conversions represent structural po.ssibilities for the
human subject as he moves towards a realized authenticity. Their occurrence entails differentiations of consciousness and entrance into basic
horizon; the reality to which they introduce one is foundational. It is the
reality of authentic human subjectivity. To this reality every human
subject is open. Consequently, this reality grounds on the one hand an
invariance in the deep structure of theology (since it discloses the underlying categories in terms of which man might understand God and himself)
and, on the other hand, it explains the universality of the vocation to
develop one's humanity to its essential fulness (and therefore permits the
converted to recognize one another, no matter where in history or now in
this world they happen to be) .
On both showings a profounder significance is accorded to the programme
of theological process than either MacKinnon or Harvey initially envisioned.
It remains to be said, however, that establishing categories and indicating
directions does not meet the whole problem, for the problem is not entirely
methodological. For MacKinnon the task of reconceptualizing doctrines in
the light of shifting conceptual frameworks pivoted upon discovering an
invariance in the structures of theology that could determine the covariance
of meaning .such doctrines must contain. A failure to realize this could
easily lead to one's rejection of the Christian Church altogether and may
even demonstrate that religious language can be meaningful even if God
does not exist. (MacKinnon, p. 180) Harvey, too, appeared somewhat
embarrassed that on his treatment one could remark that Christ might
be dispensable once the call to faith in God was achieved. His answer
about taking seriously the historicity of our own coming to faith is touchy;
we do not escape the nagging suspicion that something else should be
mentioned if we are not to admit to the salvific sufficiency of an authentic
humanism.
In our view both men would be satisfied only if the core meaning of
creedal formulations were critically grounded. For MacKinnon, the matter
might consist in securing a reality that ties down the meaningfulness of
religious language. For Harvey, the matter might be establishing tht'
centrality of Christ in the coming to faith so that Christ is not just one
among several teachers, and maintaining the constitutive role that the
Christ plays in the actual living out of the call to faith. For a number of
modem theologians Harvey's problem emerges in a tension between the
anonymous Christian and the real Christ; it is difficult to explain the
economy that knows an unacknowledged Christ. David Tracy, we might
add, betrays a similar concern for critically grounding religious meaning
in the questions he addresses to Lonergan's work on the methodologieal

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WILLIAM E. REISER

aspects of foundational reality. 8 We find this concern which he frames as a
critique of Lonergan's treatment of foundations a little disturbing because
it suggests a misconception on Tracy's part of the way Lonergan conceives
the theological specialty, foundations. 4
To put the matter simply, we submit that in the total theological
process as Lonergan presents it there are different specialties. One of
these specialties regards foundations and another regards doctrine. They
are related yet distinct. The foundations of which we have been speaking
are not the foundations for all of the specialties which comprise the
theological process. Foundations concerns a fully conscious decision about
one's horizon. Admission to foundational reality depends on a triple conversion. That conversion is an event, not a set of propositions; it represents
a fundamental change in the reality which the theologian is.
Furthermore, one's advent to foundational reality includes a religious
conversion which is the fruit of God's gift of his love. This gift promotes
the decision to move from what one hears from religious witnesses about
God to a confrontation with God. The specifically Christian nature of the
religious conversion is supplied by doctrines which mediate one's knowledge
of God. Conceived as theological specialties and as logical moments in an
ongoing process, they are distinct. Indeed, foundations precedes and underwrites doctrines, supplying heuristic categories in terms of which doctrines
can be thought. But Harvey is correct in noting that it is through Christ
that the believer is led to authenticity since the doctrine of Christ specifies
one's religious conversion, his entry into foundational reality. Misunderstanding arises when the elements of grace and faith are shortchanged and
religious conversion is no longer seen as God's gift but as the fruit of a
" transcendental exigency " within human nature.
If one thinks of doctrines and foundations statically he will never
recognize their interpenetration. In that case he will wonder if doctrines
can ever represent a covariance among changing conceptual frameworks
because the foundational categories have not been allowed to inform the
conceptualization of doctrines. Again, if one thinks of foundations and
doctrines apart from God's gift of his love one will search for groundedness
when he should be looking for gift. Finally, if the response of faith does
not precede one's theological work he will assume the impossible task of
locating doctrines in foundations. In that case he may discover his
Christianity and maybe eventually his belief dispensable.
WILLIAM

E. REISER, S.J.

Jesuit Rll8idence
Cambridge, Mass.
• See "Lonergan's Foundational Theology: an Interpretation and a Critique,"
in Foundations of Theology (Philip McShane, ed.), (London, 1917), pp. 216-7.
• Note the way Lonergan replies to Tracy's criticism in McShane, Foundationa,
pp. 280-1.

BOOK REVIEWS
Thomistic Revival and the Modernist Era. By THOMAS J. A. HARTLEY.
Toronto: Institute of Christian Thought. University of St. Michael's
College, 1971. Pp. 110.
Now when the hegemony of Thomism within the Church seems over, it
is perhaps inevitable that interest in the historical details of its revival in
the 19th century will mount. This little book brings together in summary
fashion the present state of our historical knowledge. It is swift, interesting, and well-researched, and any reader who approaches it with the
assumption that the revival of Thomism sprang full-blown from the brow
of Leo XIII will be pleasantly disabused of the notion.
I was reminded of Newman's surprise on coming to Rome after his
conversion to find that St. Thomas was held in low esteem and little
studied, except of course among the Dominicans. Newman could not have
known that elsewhere in Italy there were places where St. Thomas and
other Scholastics were carefully studied. These centers grew up independently of one another and ultimately were to have their impact, in
varying degrees, on Leo's decision to write to the Church at large on the
role he wished the thought of Aquinas to play. One of the features of
this development, as Hartley sketches it, is that the Dominicans did not
play a major part in it. Rather it was the Jesuits, Vincentians, and secular
priests who influenced now this school, now that, until finally, when
Cardinal Pecci of Perugia became Leo XIII, those scattered efforts
coalesced in Aeterni Patris. But of course, the history of the revival of
Scholasticism and of Thomism cannot confine itself to Italy, and Hartley
devotes chapters to Germany and Spain and makes reference to France
as well.
The reader of Hartley's little book will be struck by the way in which
the strengths and weaknesses of the Thomistic revival were present
almost from the beginning. The principal weakness, perhaps, was that it
was not always the first-class mind which elected to be a spokesman for
Thomism and that such spokesmen often sought a uniformity of thought
which betrayed insensitivity to the methods of theology and philosophy.
There was also the tendency to reject wholesale unexamined philosophies.
The movement from Aeterni Patris to the XXIV Theses exhibits all these
weaknesses. It would have been far more difficult for Hartley to exhibit,
in a short monograph, the strengths of Thomism. Those strengths have to
be seen in detail, in terms of substantive doctrines, and that requires
patient and prolonged reflection. Programmatic statements about Thomism

519

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BOOK REVIEWS

as a whole may be valuable as protreptic but can scarcely substitute for
theological or philosophical argument. What one would like to call
essential as opposed to programmatic Thomism continues today and
perhaps more effectively when it seems no longer to be propped up by
rules and regulations. It has been suggested that Thomism is now in a
state of diaspora, and it is, but rather than see this as an unnatural
condition, one might observe that this is the normal way of the intellectual
life. Philosophers come one at a time; the great ones seldom have students
who attain their level, let alone advance beyond it. If there is a cumulative
advance in philosophizing it surely does not take place in the layered and
communal fashion we can discern in the natural sciences. The philosopher
who relies on a label to get our attention is not unlike those pathetic
individuals whose atavistic interest in their family tree seems meant to
make us regard a twig as a branch or even a trunk. Twenty years ago
almost every Catholic philosopher in this country regarded himself and was
regarded by others as a Thomist. How swiftly the scenery, and the labels,
changed. Surely, if the appellation had had serious reference, it could not
have been so easily set aside. Nonetheless, I think there are as many
serious Thomists now as there were then, that there was always a diaspora
but that now it is no longer disguised. What commends a philosophy,
finally, is not that it is commended, even by the Church, but that it
enables us to see and understand. Theology is another matter, no doubt,
but I am not the one to speak of it. It has occurred to me, however, that
theologians nowadays seem to have confused their task with that of the
Pope and bishops.
Hartley's monograph is the first of a series planned by the Institute of
Christian Thought at St. Michael's College, Toronto. It is a good first
step and one looks forward to subsequent works. A final caution: the title
of the monograph must be understood formalissime. Though he denominates an era from Modernism, he is not concerned with Modernism as such.
RALPH MciNERNY

University of Notre Dame
Notre Dame, Indiana

New Answers to Old QuestioruJ. By WILLIAM G. MosT. London:
Paul Publications, 1971. Pp. 576.

St.

There is no more vexing problem in theology than the one relating to
human freedom on the one hand and divine mastery over creation, and in
particular of human salvation, on the other. Other issues, like those of the
Trinity and Incarnation, certainly involve more profound mysteries. But

BOOK REVIEWS

521

the question of human freedom and divine control is more intriguing
because it seems more like a problem that is capable of full solution.
After all, the notion of divine dominion is a very simple one, rife even
among savages; and human beings might be expected to have some firsthand, experience-based concepts of the nature and scope of their own
freedom, B. F. Skinner notwithstanding. But the fact is that no fully
satisfying solution has as yet been advanced to liquidate this long-standing
problem, and the history of theology is filled with the record of the
acrimonious disputes which for centuries have been carried on among
theologians partial to one or other of the more or less plausible explanations thus far proposed.
Those theologians who have kept abreast of the literature relating to
the field of grace during the past decade will recognize this book, if they
pass beyond its title, as a slightly expanded English version of the author's
original Latin work entitled Novum tentamen ad solutionem de gratia et
praedestinatione published in 1963 by the Editiones Paulinae in Rome.
Only the fourth chapter has
somewhat modified and augmented
with new material in this English version.
The first part of the book deals with the issue of predestination. The
notions of God's universal salvific will, of his intent in creation and
redemption, of the special promises of Christ, of Christian hope, and even
of the Sacred Heart are presented from Scripture and tradition and brought
to bear on the question of predestination as it is commonly understood both
in theology and in the Church at large. The second part researches in
particular the teaching of some of the Fathers from both East and West
as well as the doctrine of St. Thomas, of Banez, Molina, and St. Francis
de Sales on reprobation and predestination. The author sees later solutions
which claimed to have been based upon the writings of the Angelic Doctor
as misrepresentations of his position. In this section, basing himself upon
texts from St. Thomas, he offers his own theory, which he considers to be
more consonant not only with the sources of revelation but also with
correctly understood magisterial pronouncements. The third part of the
work considers the idea of efficacious grace in the various theological
schools. A major portion is given over to the writings of St. Thomas,
which, in the author's opinion, do not support the distinction made by
later theologians between merely sufficient and efficacious grace. The
Angelic Doctor would recognize the possibility of an infrustratable grace
only in very extraordinary cases where there is evidence of some unusual
divine providence. The fourth part of the work is concerned with the
question of divine foreknowledge and its relationship to the issue of
predestination. The book is brought to an end with a summary, an
appendix on order in the universe (largely the ideas of St. Thomas), and
several indices.
Certainly the author is to be commended on the prodigious effort that

BOOK REVIEWS

has gone into the compiling of this book. Hardly in modern times does
one encounter an amassing of data on this ancient theological problem such
as is found in this book. It is a veritable encyclopedia of information, and,
unfortunately, as difficult to read. Its polemic nature (the text being
constantly glossed with objections and series of responses) as well as its
failure, in the opinion of this reviewer, to achieve organic unity in the
intricate complexity of the issues of which it treats make assimilation even
by the scholar who has enough Sitzleder to tackle it virtually impossible.
The heart of the work is, of course, the new solution it purports to offer
in relation to the old problem. Of particular interest to readers of The
Thomist is the contention of the author that it is really the solution of
the Angelic Doctor to the extent that he wanted to address himself theologically to revelational data that were not as contradictory in his mind as
they seemed to be in the opinion of his later commentators.
To present the author's solution in a few words is not, to be sure, to
do all the justice to it that it deserves, but it is all that a short review
permits. Apart from the case of an extraordinary exercise of divine
providence where an intrinsically efficacious grace might be offered, all
grace imparted in accordance with God's universal salvific will is in the
first instance versatile, in the sense that it can be accepted or resisted
by the human free will. If it is resisted, man becomes the author of his
own demerit, and ultimately, through a lifetime, of his own condemnation.
If it is not resisted-a fact which God foresees and notes-then at this
point predestination takes place. Non-resistance is, in the opinion of the
author, not an act of the will but merely a condition or attitude of the
human psyche. In itself it is non-action but a necessary psychological
prelude to a subsequently inevitable act of acceptance. As non-action,
non-resistance cannot be a source of merit or demerit; so predestination in
this system occurs in accordance with the hallowed formula: before foreseen merits. The subsequent act of acceptance of grace which is the source
of merit flows from the initial movement of grace (non-resisted) as from
its principal cause and the human will as its secondary cause; hence in
rewarding man for his good works performed with the help of grace God
is merely, in the words of St. Augustine, "crowning his own activity."
Two questions will undoubtedly immediately emerge for the reader.
First, in the system of St. Thomas is the primary act of the human will
adversative, to be described in terms of resistance or non-resistance? Is
no-saying more properly man's thing than yes-saying? Secondly, in the
scholastic system is there an equivalence between action and non-action at
least to the extent that in some circumstances non-action can be interpreted
as morally tantamount to decision and consequently have merit or demerit?
In the new version of the confiteor we now accuse ourselves of failing to
act. In the final analysis is the solution offered a real or merely verbal one?
Among the goodly number of assets of this book might well be listed

5!l8

BOOK REVIEWS

its copious references, handy indices, the synopsis of its main argument as
well as apposite examples and analogies. Basically scriptural, clearly
pertinent, and highly significant in today's world is the analogy of the
human father and his wishes for his son, particularly a recalcitrant one.
Among its liabilities are repeated typographical errors, a poor binding,
and especially, as has been said, its tedious argumentativeness. In summary,
this reviewer wonders if the author is really bringing new answers to old
questions, or merely restating old answers in the face of new questions.
CHARLES

R. MEYER

St. Mary of the Lake Seminary
Mundelein, Illinois

Caesar and God. The Priesthood and Politics. By RoGER VEKEMANS, S. J.
Translated from Spanish by Aloysius Owen, S. J., and Charles Underhill Quinn. Maryknoll, N. Y.: Orbis Books, 1972. Pp. 118. $8.95,
paper.
The author is a Belgian Jesuit sociologist who has dedicated himself to
work in South America. The book is a result of some jottings made in
preparation for taking in a round-table discussion of the subtitle topic:
" The Priesthood and Politics." Actually this topic occupies just the last
chapter, less than a quarter of the book. The first two chapters are on
" The Church in the World " and " The Church and Socio-political Matters."
These two preliminary chapters are rather hard reading; partly, perhaps,
because they are like jottings, with numerous quotations from various
writers with the author's comments on each; but even more so because of
the language. The difficulty would seem to stem from the original and not
just the translation, since some of the quotations, also from Spanish, are
much easier to read Words like "theonomy" and "kenosis," as well as
frequent use of Latin, Greek and French terms might well cause difficulty
to a non-theologian. Expressions like " tenuous specification of eschatological relativization" (p. 51) and "reifying extrinsicism and notional prefabrication" (p. 59) might well stop even a theologian. Occasional misspellings
make one wonder whether a new word is meant. " Corporavitism " (p. 46)
turns out to be " corporativism," but whether " importunate caricature "
(p. 56) is really meant to be that, or should be " unfortunate caricature ''
is still not clear to this reviewer.
In spite of the language, some ideas do come through clearly. It is
a function of the Church and of religion to restore all things in Christ,
including socio-political life. This does not necessarily mean that all must
be changed. The socio-political sphere is autonomous. Religion's function

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BOOK REVIEWS

with regard to it is to point out whatever is contrary to God. Sociopolitical problems usually do not require some one clear particular solution
but are open to several possibilities, so that most political activity is
concerned with options rather than with one obligatory solution.
People who are religious must also be interested and involved in
political processes. Nevertheless, since all Christians should be one in love
and community, and since the Eucharist and preaching of the word are
the principal means of achieving and promoting this unity, and since the
priest is primarily the minister of the Eucharist and of the word, he should
not become involved in political action that promotes one of several
options. By coming out strongly for one among several possible solutions,
he may find himself a cause of disunity instead of unity. The author does
not advocate for priests " estrangement from politics " but rather an
"avoidance of a militant political commitment." (p. 111) The priest should
rather teach religious and moral doctrine but leave it to the laity to work
out the political actions to achieve justice. The author is speaking about
political activity by a priest as a citizen, not about a priest's actually
becoming a candidate for political office. However, what he says seems to
apply to such a case a fortiori. Much of what he says about the priest's
function as a unifier of many and the consequent need to be somewhat
at a" distance from the world" (p. 106) might also be applied to a support
of priestly celibacy, although he does not mention this application. The
final chapter is well worth reading.
JosEPH

J. FARRAHER, S.J.

Jesuit School of Theology at Berkeley
Berkeley, California

The World's Living Religions. By RoBERT ERNEST HuME. New York:
Charles Scribner's Sons, Revised Edition, 1959. Pp. 335. $3.95.
This is a new printing of a revised edition of Robert Hume's pioneer
work in comparative religions written in 19!i!4. The revision was undertaken
by Charles S. Braden thirteen years ago who updated the work in historical
accuracy as a result of more recent scholarship and developments within
contemporary religion. Although the editor states that he does not concur
with Hume in many of his value judgments, he has made no change in the
evaluations posited by Hume preferring to let his understanding of the
religions stand as he knew them. Thus this could hardly be considered a
complete revision as indicated on the title page. A twenty-page bibliography, moreover, shows little updating and has limited usefulness.
Hume's work is a mere outline of the origins, scriptures, historical

BOOK REVIEWS

59l5

nature, and values of the eleven religions in the world today. The most
positive character of the study is the ample use of the sacred books of
the great religions which are used to elucidate the historical and doctrinal
development of the religions. The negative aspects of this work, however,
far outweigh this single contribution. Value judgments, both positive and
negative, extend for pages following each treatment of a particular religion.
Although these judgments are basically sketchy and simplistic, Hume goes
to great length to use Christianity as the norm and exemplar from which
he draws comparisons and contrasts. The questions which he asks of other
religions are taken from the Christian world view and problematic. Judging,
evaluating, and comparing from within the faith of the scholar is a position
avoided by comparative religionists in the last twenty years. This type of
study could be used for reference but better works are available; it may
be a contribution to the history of methodology in comparative religion
in its early stages. Hume's book will not give one an appreciation for the
spiritual heritage of mankind but it will leave the reader with a highly
fragmented and relativistic view of the whole religious enterprise.
WILLIAM CENKNER, 0. P.
The Catholic University of America
Washington, D. C.

Morality in Evolution. The Moral Philosophy of Henri Bergson. By
!DELLA J. GALLAGHER. The Hague: Matinus Nijhoff, 1971. Pp. 112
Guilders 18,lt would be rather difficult to summarize a book which is already an
intelligent, precise, and sympathetic summary of Bergson's doctrine; therefore it seems better to indicate the intention which explains its contents.
The author, !della J. Gallagher, has very well realized that Bergson's
moral philosophy must be first of all connected, in order to be deeply understood, with the bergsonian philosophy as a whole. And to achieve such
a connexion, she has taken the most sensible perspective, starting with theepistemological and metaphysical dualism which constantly underlies this
philosophy, and then emphasizing its two masterpieces, i.e., the intuition
of duration and the theory of life, both narrowly related to each other.
For, as it is pointed out in the last words of chapter I of the Two Sources,
" Let us then give to the word biology the very wide meaning it should
have, and will perhaps have one day, and let us say in conclusion that
all morality, be it pressure or aspiration, is in essence biological," it is
quite certain that the moral philosophy herein proposed borrows its
principles from the vision of life which had been formerly described
through Creative Evolution and develops this vision.

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BOOK REVIEWS

The study of morality and religion was required, so to speak, by the
exceptional situation that mankind has obtained, according to Creative
Evolution, among the living beings and even in the all universe: mankind
represents the species in which the "Vital impetus" {Elan vital) has
succeeded, after so many failures or half accomplishments, to reach the
open air and promote its spiritual vocation. This vocation was to liberate
consciousness impeded in matter, so that it becomes a spirit sharing in the
creative action from which the universe comes; therefore moral and religious
life of mankind appear as the development and the summit of evolution.
In short, Bergson has carried on until the Two Sources, although in a
quite unforeseeable way (his first surprise before concrete duration having
brought him to many others), the task which he had undertaken in his
youth: to reform Spencer's evolutionism. He was then led, by a spontaneous inclination as much as by principle, to investigate omral and religious
problems such as obligation, the morality of the closed society and of the
open soul, the religion of the city and the religion of the mystics, in the
light of a biological approach. Likewise, it is by replacing morality, reason,
and society in a biological light that Bergson gets around the two
opposing doctrines that he wanted to outpace altogether: Kantian rationalism and contemporary sociology inspired by Comte or Durkheim. Dr.
Gallagher has very well outlined all these aspects through an analysis
which equally respects the successive steps, articulations, notions, methods,
and major intuitions of the bergsonian thought. Few authors indeed have
had this respect towards the great philosopher, often misunderstood because
overlooked in his precision. We can only regret that Dr. Gallagher did not
emphasize enough the originality of the Two Sources, with regard to the
preceding works in general and Creative Evolution in particular. Bergson
himself asserted that none of his works follows from the preceding ones
by the way of logical deduction or extrapolation. Each one marks a
specific attempt to climb to a new stage and afterwards to proceed
inductively and empirically from the new data. This is particularly true
with regard to the Two Sources, which could not have been drawn from
Creative Evolution by any logical deduction. If Dr. Gallagher had been
more sensitive to this originality, perhaps she would have stressed a bit
more the fact that the Two Sources does not. merely rediscover traditional
spiritualism in a refreshing though approximative manner; for, owing to
the doctrine and method which make Bergsonism a "intauratio magna"
in philosophy, we find herein a deep renewal of two major and eternal
problems: the problem of man and the problem of God.
JEAN THEAU

University of Ottawa
Ottawa, Ontario, Canada

BOOK REVIEWS

527

Einstein and Aquinas: A Rapprochement. By JoHN F. KILEY. The Hague:
Martinus Nijhoff, 1969. Pp. 164. Guilders
Although the title modestly claims for this comparative study that it
merely proposes a rapprochement between two thinkers who lived
centuries apart, who were concerned with widely different areas of knowledge, and who operated out of totally diverse thought contexts, the author
apparently has more serious intentions. He wishes to show that Einstein's
theory of relativity is the fruit of a unique epistemological procedure, that
this procedure is grounded in a realist metaphysics, and that the latter is
none other than the metaphysics of St. Thomas Aquinas. Einstein's
epistemology forms the starting point of the study, and from its outset
Kiley was convinced that Thomism, " especially if its claims to being a
true metaphysics were valid . . . ," could provide " a solid and sure
foundation" for Einstein's "critical and epistemic views." (pp. 107-108)
One is not surprised, therefore, to read the final result to which Kiley
comes: "It is the conclusion of this study that there is no main Einsteinian
epistemological doctrine that does not receive, in a completely natural and
undistorted manner, such hoped-for support by way of essential explanation
within the relevant metaphysical and psychological positions of St. Thomas
Aquinas." (p. 108) This result is ultimately seen by the author as advancing the Leonine program of Aeterni patris, with its insistence on " vetera
novis augere et perficere," i.e., perfecting the old with the new for a
genuine advancement of knowledge. (p. 109)
The study, as should be obvious from even this brief summary, labors
under many defects and does not merit an extended review. Suffice it to
mention that the author's knowledge of Einstein is derived largely from
the latter's published works and secondary sources and takes no account
of recent studies based on his vast correspondence and unpublished writings.
Like many another famous scientist Einstein can be, and has been, quoted
on both sides of practically every controversial issue. With regard to the
problem of knowledge, Kiley's finding " a unique epistemological procedure " in the discovery of the theory of special relativity rests largely
on his own interpretation of the limited evidence available to him. For
example, Kiley bases his case for " the inductive beginnings " of relativity
theory on Einstein's alleged dependence on the null result of the MichelsonMorley experiment. (pp. 16, 18,
33) Later on in the study he ties in
these beginnings with Aquinas's theory of the agent intellect and its
illumination of the imagination, proposing that " it would not be distorting
Einstein's own statements about his cognitive life to justly picture the
latter mentally ' examining ' an imaginary representation of the Michelson
experiment in an attempt to understand its true meaning." (p. 93) He
goes on: " And it is on this very point of the active intellect of Einstein,
which 'saw something,' as it were, in his imaginary reproduction of the

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Michelson experiment which his contemporaries did not, that St. Thomas'
doctrine of the agent intellect impinges with the greatest force." (p. 93)
Now, apparently unknown to Kiley, in a long article published in the same
year as his study, Gerald Holton examines all of the evidence for the
influence of the Michelson-Morley experiment on the discovery of special
relativity and comes to the conclusion that such an inuence is largely
illusory and may even be "the stuff of which fairy tales are made" (see
G. Holton, "Einstein, Michelson, and the 'Crucial' Experiment," Isis,
60 [1969], pp. 133-197) . And Einstein's own statements are as of little
help here as they are in resolving the debate over whether he subscribed to
a " positivist " or to a "metaphysical " philosophy of science (see Robert
Neidorf, "Is Einstein a Positivist? " Philosophy of Science, 30 [1963],
pp. 173-188, an article crucial to Kiley's thesis but which is not even listed
in his bibliography). For, as Holton observes, "Einstein himself made
different statements about the influence of the Michelson experiments,
ranging from 'there is no doubt that Michelson's experiment was of considerable influence on my work .. .' to ' the Michelson-Morley experiment
had a negligible effect on the discovery of relativity.'" (art. cit., p. 134)
Kiley's thesis may not be completely demolished by Holton's article, but
whether it is or not, it is difficult to see how this book advances one's
understanding of either Einstein or Aquinas or succeeds in establishing any
meaningful relationship between the two.
WILLIAM A. WALLACE, 0. P.
The Catholic University of America
Washington, D. C.

Lotze's System of Philosophy. By GEORGE SANTAYANA. Edited, introduced
and enriched with a Lotze Bibliography by Paul Grimley Kuntz.
Indiana University Press, 1971. Pp. fl74.
Bloomington/London:
$11.95.
Santayana's doctoral dissertation, written about 1889 under the direction
of Josiah Royce at Harvard, is one of the long-shelved intellectual preserves
bf American Philosophy. In editing and introducing Santayana's work on
Lotze and providing a valuable Lotze-Bibliography Professor Paul G.
Kuntz offers English-speaking scholars a missing link between the nineteenth- and the twentieth-century trends in philosophy.
Lotze's System of Philosophy by George Santayana was not written out
of inclination. The young Santayana would rather have done a detailed
study on Arthur Schopenhauer. However, Josiah Royce, Santayana's
doctoral mentor, and Professor William James were for a Lotze-disserta-

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529

tion: Josiah Royce because he had studied under Rudolph Hermann
Lotze at Goettigen, and William James because of a real aversion toward
Schopenhauer's philosophy. Consequently George Santayana had to abide
by his mentor's suggestion and was certainly neither the first nor the last
of doctoral candidates to conform to the advisor's intellectual predilection.
But the Lotze-topic was timely too. Lotze at that time was considered
"the most pillaged source" (p. 49) and his influence in the United States
was "stronger in academic philosophy, perhaps, than that of any other
author," (p. 48) even so much so that P. G. Kuntz does not hesitate to
call the decades from 1880 to 1920 "the Lotzean period." (p. 49)
The Santayana dissertation takes up about 121 of the 274 pages of the
book. Santayana deals first with "Lotze's Problem" (pp. 109-129): "to
join the separate fields of our certain knowledge into a theory of the world
capable of completeness " (p. 128) which Santayana interprets " as
natural science constructed on moral postulates," or even as " a moral
idealism." Via excursus into the last period of the history of philosophythat of Kant, Fichte, Hegel, Fechner, Herbart-Santayana finds Lotze
rather " on the side of common sense and humane feelings," on the side of
the empiricists, and even of the positivists. "Half-heartedly though,"
Santayana remarks, Lotze " is an apologist for the idealists rather than
their opponent." (p. 142) The attentive reader of Santayana's Lotze-study
encounters there the Lotzean nucleus of process philosophy which aroused
Santayana's fervent defense of the traditional concepts and definitions of
the pre-Lotzean meaning of substance, soul, atom, etc. Santayana criticizes
Lotze's stress on and explanation of process, series of events, etc. Santayana
opposes the altering of the definition " of a thing so as to make it the
historical unity of its own successive modification." (p. 150) Apparently
Santayana is not inclined to accept modifications of " substance " which
Leibniz and Kant brought into the history of philosophy. Leibniz stresses
the dynamics of substance, as philosophers of nature and philosophers of
the sciences do. Kant resolves substance into the a priori category of
Inherence-and-Subsistence, i. e., a necessary synthetic activity of mind upon
the data of experience. According to P. G. Kuntz "Lotze (on substance)
is clearly a Berkeleyan realist: to be a substance means nothing more
than to appear as a substance." (p. 39) Consequently Santayana comes to
the conclusion that Lotze's is a "paradoxial doctrine" holding that "substances suffer change, that they are processes " the property a series of
events has of producing the idea of substance. (p. 152) This may amaze
epigones both of Lotze as well as of Santayana who have become acquainted, if not familiar, with the dynamic world explanations of later
decades rather than with the traditionally treasured static essences, substances, species, etc. Earlier than Teilhard (who is better known in the
English-speaking areas) his contemporary Nicolai Hartmann writes in 1912:

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In nature everything is process, event, becoming. The primary form of this
process is movement. This constitutes the narrower problem of mechanics which
formulates the laws of motion. But in it the first principal condition of any
determinability has to be a constant, a determiner, which . . . is the resting pole
of all change. The older physics saw this constant presented in the mass, for
in spite of all its transformations mass appeared to remain unchanged. The newer
physics deviated from this view, for precisely mass is neither primary nor constant.
Basically its very notion appears secondary compared to and/or the result of
energy. Consequently mass dissolves into a system of powers (energy) and from
that it follows that only energy can be the constant . . . wherewith the idea
of constancy becomes reversed: nothing remains constant in motion except
motion itself. Energy then is the very first or primary datum which neither
originates nor vanishes, but which is in constant transformation. Energy then is
the constant, is substance generating various types of energy: heat, light, electricity,
chemical and mechanical power. The increase of the one is at once the decrease
of the other. Contemporary physics knows this principle as "preservation of
energy . . . in this sense then every thing is a system of energy . . . and . . .
every energetic system is a definite kind of natural thing (substance), Kleinere
Schriften III, "Philosophische Grundfragen der Biologie,"
pp. 87-89 (trans!.
CES).

Readers of Teilhard know about the evolutionary movement of the
species towards the noosphere. Most recently we witness the debate about
Jacques Monod's bestseller Le hazard et le necessite, in which the author
explores " the Molecular Ontogenesis " in themes such as " the spontaneous
association of subunits in oligomeric proteins ... the sponaneous structure
of complex particles . . . microscopic morphogenesis and macroscopic
morphogenesis . . ." etc., which, in spite of the law of invariance, appear
to be "chance" results. Perhaps now, after about SO years filled with
accelerated progress of all sciences of nature etc., Santayana would modify
his view. But at the time of his dissertation, when he analyzed Lotze's
world view, he stated:
A substance by definition and common accord designates an unchanging thing,
something self-sufficing and unaffected by what may go on about it. To call it
mutable and make it the locus of relations is to describe an entirely different thing
which we arbitrarily choose to call by the same name. But if our concept of
reality ... breaks up into an infinity of real points, each without extension, and
into the complex of their external relations, then we have entered upon a line of
thought that may lead us very far indeed. (p. 161)

In arguing about Lotze's atomism Santayana coins Lotze then an idealist
whose theory of units and subunits (atoms) or "unextended points"
clearly can be only " ideas." Santayana blames Lotze for not having said
to himself:
Move, be changed, cultivate different thoughts and different interests, and the
entire sense of reality will change for you: what was real to you will become

BOOK REVIEWS

531

figurative, and what was figurative will become real; rocks and trees will become
symbols, theodicies and mystical unities will become realities. But, to speak
so ... would not have been to construct a system of philosophy. Lotze .•.
wishes to make idealists of us by an artificial process . . . (p. 181)

The unity of Lotze's world as process in time reminds Santayana of
the unity found in materialistic monism, for there . . . " motion, change,
is essential to the cosmos no less than to the individual things; the unity
of a thing . . . lies in the law of its variations. And this is precisely the
description and theoretic unity that materialistic monism discovers." (p.
215) But Santayana admits that there is a difference between Lotze's and
the materialists' monism, namely, Lotze supposes "a continuous consciousness . . . a personal God . . . an immortal philosopher to whom the law
of things is fully and uninterruptedly present .... " (pp. 213-216) Nevertheless, Lotze's divine consciousness "is diffuse, changeful, admits ignorance,
illusion and limitations." But Lotze does not fail to endow it with
"attributes that most engage veneration and worship" (for morality's
sake?)
Santayana concludes that in Lotze's system of philosophy we find well incorporated "the individual thing," "the soul," "the unity of the world,"
and even "a personal God," but it is an " atomistic, monistic, idealistic "
system of change, of relational conditions, of process.
The 121 pages of Santayana's dissertation were minutely corrected not
so much by Josiah Royce but rather by Professor Kuntz (see pp. 229-232:
"Errata et Corrigenda.") May a reviewer still add some corrections? On
pages 134, 148, 149 and many others before and after, always write
"Leibniz," never "Leibni-t-z." On page 7,-separation of German words,
names, etc.-separate according to syllables: "Fraeulein Schlo-te" not
"Schl-ote." A remark to Santayana's spelling of "errathen." After the
revision of the German spelling (during Kaiser Whilhelm's time) all the
" th-spellings " turned into mere " t-spellings " except in the word " Thron "
("Am Thron darf nicht geruettelt werden," Kaiser Wilhelm).
These minor imperfections in no way diminish the excellence of Professor
Kuntz's work. His great merit is to revive through this publication not
only the interest in Santayana but even more so the interest in Lotze.
Kuntz offers in his introduction to Santayana's Lotze's System of Philosophy a Prolegomenon to Process Philosophy. He leads us into the
interlacing trends and thoughts from Santayana to the present, from
Lotze to Whitehead, from the traditional, static worldview to process
philosophy. In detailed accuracy and scholarly analysis as well as masterly
synopsis Paul Kuntz offers a philosophical essay which connects the 19th
and 20th centuries. The influences evident in American Philosophy today
are presented, criticized, evaluated, and at times spiced with subtle humor
and vivacity. This introduction is more than an introduction. It is a

BOOK REVIEWS

domestic dialogue between Santayana and Kuntz, and a reliable measure
and instrument for thinkers to find the way through the labyrinth of ideas,
systems and trends of the last eight decades. Its greatest value, perhaps,
lies in its turn to and justification of process philosophy, on the basis of the
contemporary scientific and philosophical teachings.
C. E. ScaUETZINGER
Mercy CoUege of Detroit
Detroit, Michigan

An Examen of Witches. By HENRY. BoouET. Pp. 361, $11.50; Witch
Hunting and Witch Trials. Ed. by C. L'EsTRANGE EWEN. Pp. 358,
$11.50; The Trial of the Lancaster Witches 1612. Ed. by G. B.
HARRISON. Pp. fl35, $6.50. New York: Barnes & Noble, Inc., 1971.
With the current outbreaks of experimentation in the occult sparking a
renewed interest in medieval and early modern witchcraft, Barnes and
Noble have capitalized by releasing facsimile reprints of three books all
of which were first published in Great Britain in 19fl9. These books will
be of considerable interest and of some value to students of witchcraft.
Of these the most scholarly is C. L'Estrange Ewen's painstaking compilation of legal indictments and depositions taken from the records of 1373
assizes held for the Home Circuit in England between 1559 and 1736 under
the title Witch Hunting and Witch Trials. In a 115 page introduction there
is a readable exposition of the editor's insights and viewpoints; the indictments and other legal documents will best be used as a reference work.
Easier flowing is the revealing record of the trial of the Lancaster witches
held at Lancaster Castle, England, in 161fl. The records, published in 1613
by Thomas Potts Esquire under the title The Wonderfull Discoverie of
Witches in the Countie of Lancaster, give a valid overview of the attitudes
prevalent in the courts and among the people in seventeenth-century
England. G. B. Harrison in his introduction provides a survey of the best
works available on witchcraft in England.
The sixteenth-century An Examen of Witches by Henry Boguet borrows
heavily in both style and content from the famous Malleus Maleficarum of
Heinrich Kramer and James Sprenger, whose influence spread from their
inquisitions in Northern Germany throughout Germany, France, Italy, and
the British Isles. Published nearly a century after the Malleus Maleficarum,
Boguet's work shares the same unmistakable reliance on the scholastic
method popularized in the thirteenth-century Summa Theologiae by St.
Thomas Aquinas.
When one approaches a new book or books on witchcraft, it is always

BOOK REVIEWS

583

with the hope of finding clear and peremptory evidence for or against the
historicity of the alleged phenomena and their causality. The former
question would seem to be more easily solved. However, of the three
authors who have given us the best general studies of witchcraft, one, Dr.
H. C. Lea, seems convinced that the only reality of the exploits of witches
lies in the hysterical minds of deluded human beings. The other two, Rev.
Montague Summers and Charles Williams, recognize a certain objectivity to
the alluded phenomena. While Rev. Summers gives unflinching credence to
the supernaturality of at least a modicum of these, Mr. Williams seems to
support the conviction that the most enlightened position involves a
suspension of judgment as to the causality of verified phenomena pending
future developments of ever-progressing sciences.
It would provide a neat little package if we could say that each of the
three books under review represents one of the classical positions on witchcraft investigation-and this is nearly true. An Examen of Witches, which
is edited-with an introduction-by the Rev. Montague Summers, certainly
assumes the reality and the supernaturality (by diabolical influence) of a
good number of cases, at least.
There is no question either that G. B. Harrison in his introduction to
The Trial of the Lancaster Witches 1612 takes the contrary point of view,
decrying the atrocities foisted on man by his own superstitions. Harrison's
closing words to us are, " It is as well not to be superior about the superstitions and injustices of our ancestors; our own will make nauseous reading to
posterity."
C. L'Estrange Ewen would like to have us think that he is totally
dispassionate and objective in presenting his findings. However, certain
unguarded statements tip the scale in the direction of incredulity. To the
point is the following short paragraph: " Delusions fostered by the Church,
became the beliefs of the people. If the Devil existed, it was a small step
to the supposition that personal acquaintance was possible and that
agreements and liaisons could be made. Protestants were as superstitious
as the Catholics, and the Reformation in no way lessened the persecution
arising from these ridicuolus beliefs."
In our work of investigating cases for possible exorcism today we see
the same three fundamental attitudes. Theologians choose their positions
more on the basis of philosophy than of analysis of data. It seems that
those who adopt the currently popular existentialist philosophy, in one of
its multiple forms, write off the devil as a myth, a personification of evil.
Accordingly, they deny any supernatural element in the phenomena of
witchcraft and tend to be skeptical about their very occurrence. Those,
on the other hand, who hold to a more traditional scholastic philosophy,
viewing truth as rather objective than relative, see the reported events
as possible and the intervention of the Devil as credible. A similar division
exists among scientists in their outlook on psychics and the science of
parapsychology.

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In a thorough study of the phenomena of spiritism it was our conclusion
that some 98% are attributable to fraud and deception; another 1% or
more can be explained by science, including the fringe science of parapsychology. The portion of 1% which remains seems to be in the realm of
the praeternatural and is best explained, in the light of Christian revelation,
by the agency of the Devil or demons.
As regards pastoral theology, it matters not much whether people see
the Devil as a myth or as a personality-no more than it mattered practically when the microscope showed the bacterial world of activity which
goes on in a drop of water. Man continues to drink the water and is
normally oblivious to the life within it. Constant consciousness of this
activity might create a race of neurotics.
The trilogy on witchcraft published by Barnes and Noble is a definite
asset in providing us with a deeper insight into the minds of the legislators,
judges, and people in sixteenth-century England. For the more profound
and significant questions pertaining to the historicity and causality of the
alleged phenomena of witchcraft we receive no help.
JOHN J. NICOLA

National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception
Wt18hington, D. C.

Metaplwr: An Annotated Bibliography and History. By Warren A. Shibles.
Whitewater, Wisconsin: The Language Press, 1971. Pp. 410. $12.50.
Warren Shibles, who has previously published work on Wittgenstein and
on models of classical Greek philosophy, now provides what may fairly be
described as an extensive and useful research tool for the study of metaphor.
Not only is the bibliography complete but it is also extensively annotated
in such a way as to provide a comprehensive picture of the scholarship
dealing with this complex topic in literary criticism, psychology, philosophy,
and linguistics. Part I of the index lists all the major works on metaphor
and related terms, such as archetype and analogy. Parts II and III list
the names and ideas mentioned in each descriptive annotation. One may,
for example, find listed all of Aristotle's principal statements about
metaphor, including his statement in the Poetics: "The greatest thing by
far is to be a master of metaphor. It is the one thing that cannot be
learned from others. It is the mark of genius."
Professor Shibles, in a previous work entitled An Analysis of Metaplwr,
observed that metaphor is not only of the utmost importance in the analysis
of poetry but is also really basic in the consideration of philosophical
systems and theologies. Indeed, as Aquinas pointed out, the theologian

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finds metaphor to be essential because it is a means whereby spiritual
realities may be represented to the senses, and it also serves to remind
us that we do not have literal description of divine truths.
In his introductory essay, Professor Shibles argues that metaphor is a
form of knowledge, as well as an art form that may be taught as one of
the arts, rather than as an aspect of them. In his view, metaphor is likewise
properly viewed as a philosophical method that enables one to see the
basic metaphor in each system of knowledge and to create a variety of
types of metaphorical systems.
He would argue that no definition can be taken literally; all definitions
are seen as meaphorical ways of organizing facts. Rejecting traditional
concepts of " mind " and " imagination," he does not see the construction
of metaphors or metaphorical systems as evidence of the operation of
"mind" or "imagination." Consequently, all attempts to treat metaphor
in this way he regards as based upon the illusion of " the traditional mindbody, inner-outer dualism." His work is professedly meant in part as a
movement towards a new rhetoric, and he sees philosophy, poetry, rhetoric,
and science as, to a large extent, attempts to " learn " our language.
Metaphor, he seems not to deny, produces a world of "as-if." It is not
a method for the building of metaphysics. But that clearly is not Professor
Shibles' concern either, and he has provided students of several disciplines,
at the very least, with a useful reference work.
PAUL VAN K. THOMSON
Providence College
Providence, Rhode Island

Foundations of Theology. Ed. by PHILIP McSHANE, S. J. Indiana:
versity of Notre Dame Press, 1972. Pp. 257. $10.00.

Uni-

This is the first volume of a projected three-volume series containing
all of the papers which were delivered at the International Lonergan
Congress held in Florida in 1970. Although one might initially be tempted
to view a symposium of this sort as merely providing an opportunity for
the devoted disciples of the master to extol his accomplishments, judging
from the contents of this volume it seems clear that a serious effort was
made to solicit the opinions of those who would examine Lonergan's
thought in a truly critical manner with a view to determining its real
significance for contemporary theology. Even a cursory glance at the list
of contributors reveals a rather broad spectrum of philosophical and
theological perspectives, and while it is true that all show themselves to be
basically sympathetic to Lonergan's attempt to develop a truly viable
foundational theology, many nevertheless remain sharply critical of certain
aspects of his thought.

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BOOK REVIEWS

Despite the fact that this set of papers covers an extremely broad range
of topics, all of the participants restrict themselves to a common theme.
Each attempts to focus attention upon one or more facets of Lonergan's
efforts to establish a foundational theology through a detailed examination
of the method employed in the various fields of theological concentration.
Among some of the more interesting and provocative theses in this
collection are those advanced by Charles Curran, Charles Davis, Langdon
Gilkey, George Lindbeck, Quentin Quesnell, and David Tracy. Curran
offers a number of critical observations on Lonergan's reflections upon the
nature of religious conversion, a notion which in recent years has assumed a
central importance in his thought. Davis, for his part, readily admits that
Lonergan's writings exerted considerable influence upon his own intellectual
development, but this does not prevent him from criticizing strongly
certain aspects of his system. In his opinion Lonergan's philosophical
theology contains a number of unquestioned assumptions concerning the
validity of traditional metaphysics and the relationship between divine
revelation and an infallible magisterium. Gilkey argues that it is possible
to detect an underlying tension in Lonergan's thought between the general
epistemological perspective which he adopts and the particular theological
conclusions reached through an application of the principles which undergird
this perspective. Lonergan, he charges, is unwilling to accept completely
the relativistic implications of his own empiricism. Lindbeck raises the
question of whether the theory of doctrinal development as advanced by
Lonergan is sufficiently neutral from an ecumenical point of view to allow
for its acceptance on the part of one who stands firmly within the
Protestant tradition of sola scriptura. Quesnell's paper contains a number
of interesting observations on Lonergan's view of scripture as a source of
theology. Finally, Tracy outlines some of the more recent developments
in Lonergan's thought and claims that it is possible to point to a radical
ambiguity in the way in which Lonergan understands foundational theology.
Passing notice should also be made of the fact that this collection includes
a paper by Karl Rahner on the idea of functional specialties in theology
which is insightful but disappointingly short (only three pages).
The general consensus seems to be that, however critical one might be
of particular aspects of Lonergan's thought, one is forced to admit that
he has made a number of important contributions to the contemporary
search for a struly viable foundational theology. Lonergan's own response
to the various points raised in the course of the discussion is of necessity
rather brief and sketchy, but it does help to shed some further light upon
the direction in which his thought is currently moving. In the end, however, it would appear that the present debate over the importance of his
views for contemporary theology will be significantly advanced only with
the appearance of his long-promised Method in Theology.
CHARLES

Boston CoUege
Chestnut HiU, Maaa.

N. BENT, s. J.

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587

The Openness of Being. The Gifford Lectures in the University of Edinburgh 1970-71. By ERIC L. MASCALL. London: Darton, Longman &
Todd, 1971. Pp.
£8.50.
The Anglican theologian Eric Mascall in bringing his gentle scholarship
to the 1970-71 series of the Gifford Lectures furthers an already
series-Alfred Whitehead's Process and Reality, for example, originated as
the Gifford Lectures of
Stating that " unnecessary verbosity is at
best inconsiderate and at worse immoral," (p. 91) the author manages to
avoid both rudeness and sin, while ranging with wit and insight, and
completely without obfuscation and mystification, over rather a complete
spectrum of what has constituted natural theology discussion over the past
few decades. Clearly, a good deal of his own reading comes to the fore
in the process, and indeed the bibliographical character of the Lectures is
very pronounced. The procedure is largely one of allowing the various arguments and points of view to sound and resonate for themselves in a
markedly dispassionate climate that makes for enlightened discourse. It
does not preclude the author testing the arguments at their weakest points
and appending his own (usually alternative) viewpoints. Most of these, it
is true, have been expressed in the author's earlier publications, though they
are here newly nuanced at several strategic points.
What dominates throughout is Fr. Mascall's epistemological stance of
robust Realism. This renders him understandably impatient with the metatheological concerns of much of Anglo-Saxon theology whose fixation on
language has indeed produced a paralysis of sorts. It is no surprise then
to find him looking with sympathy on the " transformational generative
grammar " of N oam Chomsky which-against the claims of logical empiricists and ordinary language analysts--offers some hope for anchoring
language in metaphysics rather than vice versa. Nevertheless, the question
as to how thought and language do inter-relate remains an open and vexing
one for theology, and the feeling persists that Fr. Mascall is disposed to
separate them a bit too radically: " ... the truths themselves are something other than our assertions of them, and are not in themselves linguistic
at all." (p.
If one means truth in things this affords no problem, but
formally speaking truth is in the judgmental act of mind, and here
the plot thickens. A footnote from J. A. Baker to the extent that "truth
does not come to men clothed in words, it comes to them as words " is
much to the point in serving to preclude the oft-entertained notion that
formal truth somehow or other lies behind and beneath language as having
a non-linguistic reality of its own. To think is not merely to acquire
language (as Leslie Dewart boldly maintains in his Foundations of Belief,
e. g., p.
at the same time language is not a mere apprendage to
thought for the sole sake of communication. Heidegger's aesthetic, almost
mystical, notion of Being (Sein) "coming to pass" in Dasein as primal

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BOOK REVIEWS

languages needs a lot more hard-headed verification than his disciples
have been able to offer. But the mind is indigeneously dictive; what it
knows it necessarily brings to expression (which is not to say the knowing
is the interior speaking or conceiving) , and the articulation is, in some
primal sense at least, language. There are, of course, further problems:
theological language is readily diversified as mythological, symbolic, or
analogical, and the truth-bearing capacity is not identical in each case; the
distinction between analytic and synthetic judgments (in Hume's sense)
implies not only distinct kinds of truth but distinct meaning in language
too. At any rate, I for one, can only feel that a satisfactory theological
explorative act into the problem of language is yet to come.
This same Realism means that the review of the " ontological argument "
in the light of current attempts to rehabilitate it, notably that of Charles
Hartshorne, is cautious at the very least. Fr. Mascall seems intrigued with
the approach of M. J. A. O'Connor who suggests that Anselm understood
God as really existing within the mind as well as without it. It is difficult
to see how this is not a very strained interpretation and one that detaches
the argument from any Augustinian background. Understandably, the
author is much more at home with the " cosmological argument," and here
he attempts what is presumably an introduction to British readers of
Transcendental Thomism-in the persons of Marechal, Rahner, Coreth, and
Lonergan. While not an indepth treatment, Fr. Mascall is adroit in cutting
through to the nerve of thought that tends to be somewhat involuted.
For example, he sees clearly, that, for Rahner, " ... God is grasped not in
his character as the ground of us who are the subjects of perception," (p.
and that Lonergan "bases metaphysics upon epistemology and not
vice versa." (p. 84) His critique is then less than enthusiastic, the author
finding himself left with "residual puzzlements and reservations." (p. 83)
What is missing is any attempt to deal critically with the assumptions of
this school of thought, not least of all the sense in which it can and cannot
validly lay claim to the name "Thomism." I have reservations on
Schubert Ogden's observation that what we have here is only "adjectivally
transcendental and substantively Thomism " (" The Challenge to Protestant Thought," Continuum, VI,
p.
This may well lie outside
the intended concern of the present lectures; still the congeniality of the
" transcendental turn " with Thomism remains a strangely unexamined
thesis in contemporary discussion.
Fr. Mascall is patently more at home with the Realism represented by
Gilson and Marita.in: " ... unless one frankly accepts the position that it
is of the very nature of the mind to grasp and assimilate extra-mental
being one will never be able to escape the toils of one's own subjectivity.''
(p. 67) This may well be, paradoxically, at once the strongest and the
weakest point in the thesis of the entire book. But is it any longer possible
to dismiss the critical question so readily? Does not one have to justify

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the above assumption? And how to do this except critically? The overwhelming contribution of contemporary thought is that man can contribute
to what he knows without reducing the knowledge-act to pure subjectivity;
in Merleau-Ponty's words, granting a pre-monde that is irreducibly "given,"
man is a co-constitutor of his world of meaning. Seemingly, it has to be
asked whether the earlier Moderate Realism does full justice to the
historicity of man's knowledge. The point is of some significance because
in the end it is the author's own position, and it underlies as an epistemological premise his own argument for God which emerges gradually in the
book. Along the way, it enables him to make a telling point against pure
Phenomenological methodology which, like Hindu Yoga, suspends normal
awareness of the world, so that " the one thing it ignores in the given is
precisely its givenness." (p. 105) It is the existence and contingency of the
given, finite world that exhibits it (to Fr. Mascall) as open to God, something arrived at by an inference which while mediated is non-syllogistic
and non-discursive in kind. Austin Farrer provides the occasion for this
thesis, but Fr. Mascall enthusiastically makes it his own: "theistic argumentation is not rational demonstration." (p. 108) This would not appear
to be too far removed from Langdon Gilkey's expression that God is not
inferred from creatures but rather surmised in creatures, save that the
empirical context is less marked. Fr. Mascall, I believe, would be more apt
to allow the insight (which Gilkey does not) that the rational demonstrations (or better " viae ") are only logically rigorous formulations of a
dynamism that the mind first enters upon in a prelogical fashion.
The theory developed here is argumented somewhat in an Appendix
(no. IV) which views the openness of finite being to Infinite Being as
no mere static or mental relating of natures on logical grounds but as a
necessary enduring dynamism of contact that allows for novelty within
the creaturely reahn; this precludes any charge of " essentialism " or
" conceptualism." Two other appendices bolster the general position by
appealing to the Empirical arguments of Boyce Gibson (Appendix, no. I) ,
and the Sociological ones of Peter Berger (Appendix, no. II). Berger's
suggestions do appear to constitute a genuine contribution precisely because
they remain sociological and make no claim to usurp a philosophical or
theological role, but Gibson's concluding from "pointers, not complete in
themselves " to God not as Cause but as Presence is problematic for the
very opposite reason. Setting aside the category of causality deprives him
of any way to explain exactly what presence is; the term tends to dissipate,
much as it does in a similar use of it by Leslie Dewart. More importantly,
his argument concludes to " something which is in greater measure that he
(man) is"; God is thus the finite perfections "but relieved of the limitations" (cited on p.
This appears to slight the "infinite qualitative
difference " and suggests that if one is to speak of God there is no way
of avoiding recourse to that type of cognitive projection that is analogy-

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but analogy as strict attribution and not as proportionality. Only the
former makes it impossible to conceive of God as the creaturely perfection
simply denuded of its conditions of finiteness; only attribution leaves God
as Unknown who can be " designated " from the contents of a finite concept
as a "point de depart."
One other Appendix (no. Ill) , though somewhat extraneous to the
central theme of the book, deserves mention. It deals with an ecumenical
effort on the part of Orthodox, Catholic, and Protestant theologians at
Chevetogne in 1953 to deal with the problem of the openness of nature to
grace. Noteworthy is the observation, worth pursuing perhaps, concerning
the surprising parallelism between the positions of St. Thomas Aquinas and
St. Gregory Palladas. The correspondence is covert, hidden beneath an
obvious but superficial divergence in conceptual system and language.
Lending credence to this view is the information that Fr. Mascall gleans
from the two books of J. Meyerdorff that Gregory's adversary, Barlaam,
was a professed Nominalist in full flight from Thomistic Realism. The
degree to which the tradition of the Eastern Fathers survives in Aquinas's
work on grace is too often obscured by a one-sided emphasis on the created
dimension to the grace-state.
What these Gifford Lectures offer us in the end is a rather refreshing
perspective on man's natural capacities of God, refreshing not least of
all because they refuse to neglect or obscure the implications in the preKantian conviction of the objectivity and veracity of man's involvement in
the world. Fr. Mascall's own staunch position comes through with clarity
and force: that unless natural theology is possible, revealed theology is
impossible too. This does not eliminate the conviction that present society
is, in John MacQuarrie's words, "experiencing a dark night of the soul"
wherein God holds himself at a remove and absent from the world. But
it is at least a flickering candle in that dark.
WILLIAM

J. HILL, o. P.

Ths Catholic University of America
Washington, D. C.

Philosophy of Religion: An Introduction. By WILLIAM H. CAPITAN. New
York: The Bobbs-Merrill Company, 1972. Pp. 201.
Intended for " students and general readers,'' Philosophy of Religion:
An Introduction, by Professor Wililam H. Capitan, is a serious and
sympathetic discussion of religion. The method Capitan employs is one
of descriptive analysis; for each of the several topics considered, he presents
in historical sequence and in summary form arguments and counter-argu-

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541

ments of authorities who represent classical and contemporary viewpoints.
His choice of this method derives from a desire to " give the reader an
understanding of the richness of the field." Hence, what may be lacking
at times in depth of analysis is compensated for by heuristic possibilities
and an inducement to pursue further a greater range of philosophical
perspectives and problems connected with religion.
Every book is the product of selection. Since there are more philosophical problems concerning religion than one can possibly cover adequately, Capitan brings his subject under manageable form by concentrating on the dominant religious tradition of our Western culture, theism,
in particular Judaeo-Christian theism. When one considers the limitation
necessarily imposed upon an introduction to the field, Capitan makes a
generous selection of central issues to be considered, such as the teleological
argument for the existence of God, the problem of evil, revelation, miracle,
immortality, faith and belief, religious exerience, and religious language.
The author's approach is to plunge "in media res, without a great deal
of preliminary definition," but there is considerable doubt as to whether
this is "the best way to initiate" the student and general reader. It is to
be seriously doubted that this is the best way to approach a field which is
notorious for confusion on a practical level (witness compilations of
bibliographies and course descriptions for philosophy of religion) and for
uncertainty as to its nature and scope on the theoretical level. True, " a
battery of definitions in vacuo " is to be eschewed. But, particularly in an
introduction to the subject, an ordered approach by way of descriptive
definition emerging from analysis is to be desired-if for no better reason
than to indicate as clearly as possible what philosophy of religion is not;
it is not apologetics, not philosophical theology, not religious philosophy.
Later in the book Capitan very logically and, for its limited handling, very
adequately defines mysticism by outlining first what it is not and then,
relying on the excellent authority of W. T. Stace, what it is. For an
understanding of the philosophy of religion, Capitan would have the reader
do the essential mapping himself, " based on the clarification of his own
thought," and to this end he seeks to lead the reader " by historical
illustration of a variety of views and debates on key topics." However,
what this method brings about is a clearer understanding not of what
the philosophy of religion is, but rather of differing philosophical perspectives of religion due to individual philosophers' conceptions of the nature,
aim, and method of philosophy. This is illustrated, for example, in his
exposition of the existentialist notion of faith as represented by Kierkegaard, Buber, and Tillich.
Although readers might understandably prefer reference to the views of
fewer authorities and more sustained critical appraisal by Capitan, he
contends that the procedure he has adopted has the advantage of " making
philosophical biases less important " and of making more obvious the

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gradual changes in the relationship between philosophy and religion, the
impact of science and secularity upon religion, and the evolution of the
modern predicament of religion. The greatest problems men face in religion
today are inherited as typically post-Cartesian; hence Capitan's emphasis
upon the response of philosophers of the modern period is valuable. He
takes particular cognizance of the challenge a scientific worldview poses
to what religions typically offer-that is, meaning to man's existence-and
places the focus of modern philosophy of religion on the question: " What
is the difference between the religious and the secular views of the world
and their implied ways of life? "
Capitan sees the central problems in the philosophy of religion revolving about the notion of faith and its correlative, religious experience. He
devotes a chapter to each of these topics and discusses the epistemic,
psychological, and linguistic aspects of religious claims deriving from each.
In his fifth and last chapter, within the context of a discussion of man's
quest for meaning in life, Capitan submits for consideration some alternatives to the Judaeo-Christian theistic view: a this-worldly transcendence
(in which life has no meaning beyond itself) , humanism, and Zen
Buddhism. In response to non-religious man, the religious believer, Capitan
rightly observes, is forced to go beyond the limits of rationalistic and
experimental demonstration. " Some matters, even though they are quite
properly philosophical, have to be dealt with by being put not to the test
of reason or the test of experiment, but to the test of living.'; (!!WI)
But, of course, this seemingly simple concluding statement raises the
problem so extremely crucial to an understanding of what philosophy
would have to be in order to take seriously the modality of experience and
behavior manifested by religious man. In other words, the consideration of
a trans-conceptual or non-conceptual dimension of meaning, such as religion
claims, challenges philosophy's conception of philosophical rationality and
of its theory of meaning.

M. SHARON BURNS, R. s. M.
Loyola CoUege
Baltimore, Maryland