GRACE AND LIBERATION: AN INTERPRETATION
OF HISTORY

T

HE OCCASION OF this essay is the liberationist interpretation of Christianity as it is being proposed by the
theology of liberation. While the soundest and most
coherent and vigorous version of liberation theology stems from
Latin America, still this theological movement has touched
fundamental human drives and modern exigencies, and liberation themes are being proposed on all continents. But not always
with the same success. For liberation theology interprets Christianity as intrinsically and fundamentally related to this world,
and life in it, with particular emphasis on the political and social
structures of human existence. And, as a matter of fact, either
this idea or the manner in which it is proposed has certainly not
gained a general acceptance.
Right at the outset we wish to enter a distinction between
the theology of liberation, or the many theologies of liberation
of particular authors, and the liberationist interpretation of
Christianity. Every particular understanding of Christianity is
and should be deeply incarnated or inculturated in the particular situation of the people out of which it emerges and which it
seeks to address. This is particularly true of the liberation theologies which have integrated into their method of understanding
of Christianity social, economic, political and cultural analyses of
the world in which they arise. But precisely to the degree in
which a theology of liberation is bound to a situation that is
peculiar or unique, that theology is not exportable to an area
where the social and cultural conditions are different. 1 For this
1 The principle of ineulturation
involves a tension between the universal and its
particular manifestations and requires a nuanced interpretation of what is essential
and normativ.e in Christian faith experience as distinguishable from its explicit
expression in cultural forms. Just as Christians of former mission areas were asked

539

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ROGER HAIGHT

reason we speak of the liberationist interpretation of Christianity in an effort to look for that properly Christian component that lies beneath any particular liberation theology. The
liberationist interpretation of Christianity attempts to deal with
that which is distinctively Christian and therefore universal in
Christian faith itself in whatever part of the world and in conjunction with whatever particular social analysis that may be
used. 2
While this distinction is helpful, there is still more to be said,
and other questions to be answered. The liberationist interpretation of Christianity presents Christian salvation in such a
way that it is seen as intrinsically and fundamentally, although
not exclusively, related to and having bearing upon life in this
world in all of its forms and activities. Even granting the distinction just mentioned, it is still not commonly agreed by general Christian consciousness that Christian salvation includes
this inner worldly and historical dimension as an essential and
constitutive one.3 The question that is raised, therefore, is
whether or not this claim of liberation theoolgy is true, and
in what sense? Is the liberationist interpretation really a theology at all, or, is it simply a movement which is more or less
a product of culture, but supporting itself extrinsically with
Christian idealism and rhetoric? Is the liberationist interpretation of Christianity really a social movement that has adapted
Christian language and slogans in order to seek its particular
goals? Or, on the contrary, is this really a theology and thereto inculturate western Christianity into their local situations, so now it seems
western Christianity is beginning to be asked to receive back and adapt into
western traditions insights gained in the third world.
2 " Distinction " does not mean " separation " ; there can be no expression of
pure Christian faith outside of culturally relative human forms.
3 " Essential " and " constitutive " mean that if this dimension is lacking Christian faith life would be inauthentic as is implied by the famous sentence of 1971
Roman Catholic Bishops' Synod: "Action on behalf of justice and participation
in the transformation of the world fully appear to us as a constitutive dimension
of the preaching of the Gospel, or, in other words, of the Church's mission for
the redemption of the human race and its liberation from every oppressive situation." 1971 Synod of Bishops, Justice in the World, Introduction.

GRACE AND LIBERATION

541

fore a statement of a universally normative dimension of Christian faith and life? Can one say, finally, that today the Christian symbol "salvation" is intrinsically and essentially bound
up with " liberation " ?
In order to make this claim convincingly one must address
history, the history of Christian faith experience. That is to
say, if this understanding is correct, it cannot be a totally new
claim, one that is alien to or lacks all continuity with the tradition of Christian self-understanding. More positively, one
must be able to show how, whether implicitly or explicitly,
Christian self-understanding has included a basic dimension
aptly termed " liberation " in its conception of salvation. The
question of this essay, therefore, is this: What exactly is the
connection between Christian salvation and liberation? And in
response we hope to demonstrate that the history of the Christian understanding of the effects of grace can quite correctly
be understood as " liberation " and in what sense this is especially true today. To do this, we shall begin with a brief discussion of the symbols " salvation," " grace " and " liberation "
and how they may be seen as interrelated. The second part will
offer a very brief interpretation of the history of the theology
of grace. And in the third we shall bring these data to bear on
the liberationist interpretation of Christianity in the form of
some general propositions.

I. SALVATION, GRACE, LIBERATION
The most basic concepts of Christianity are often the most
vague and unclear. This is certainly the case with the notions
of "salvation" and "grace." In discussing briefly the interrelationships between salvation, grace and liberation we shall
define how these terms are understood in this essay and at the
same time clarify the project.
Salvation is Grace
The primary symbol or type for salvation in the religion of
the Old Testament is " exodus." There one has a people freed

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ROGER HAIGHT

from bondage or captivity or slavery to a foreign master and
entering into a new relationship with God, a new life of chosenness and predilection by God symbolized in a covenant. What
really happened back then?, if one might pose that irreverent
question; or, since that question cannot be answered historically,
what was believed by the ancient Hebrews to have happened?
Undoubtedly there was an historical event, an escape, and a
newly-won freedom on the part of this people. And coupled with
this Scripture testifies to the vivid realization that whatever
happened to this people transcended their own capacity for
freedom and power of self-determination; it was a gift, something received from God; it was grace. 4 Here one has the basis
to determine the essential characteristics of the notion of salvation. Certainly the word itself includes the idea of " being freed
from" and" being freed for." Moreover, it was and is essentially religious. This means that " salvation " refers first of all to
historical events and experiences that transcend human capacity
and which are celebrated as God acting in history .5
These qualities are epitomized in the New Testament faith
in Jesus as the Christ. For the Christian, in the advent of Jesus,
his life, death and resurrection, one has the concrete and unsurpassable event in history manifesting the saving love of God
for the human race. He is the Christ; he is savior. In the terms
of Karl Rahner, Christ is the definitive real symbol of God's
saving grace. And in the power of God's freely bestowed love
or grace mediated through him we are freed from sin, from the
Law, from the power of evil itself, and from death. In him
God's universal salvific will is revealed. God's actual saving
•See Ruben A. Alves, A Theology of Human Hope (New York:

Corpus Books,

1969), pp. 87 ff.

• This can be seen in terms of the principle of sacramentality which maintains
that human beings in this world can only encounter God through this world of
concrete symbols and events. This need not be radically contrasted to a prophetic
Word tradition of understanding grace and salvation since ultimately "word" is
also a human symbol and needs mediation. See Franz Leenhardt, " This is My
Body," in Essays on the Lord's Supper, ed. by O. Cullmann and F. Leenhardt
(Richmond: John Knox Press, 1958), p. 35.

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543

activity for all peoples of all time is made known; in short, the
force and power of God's active love for all mankind and history itself is shown to us. In the words of Paul: God " has
made known to us in all wisdom and insight the mystery of
his will, according to his purpose which he set forth in Christ
as a place for the fulne.ss of time, to unite all things to him,
things in heaven and things on earth" (Eph 1.9-10).
Grace is nothing else than God's love for humankind. When
one addresses " salvation " in terms of the symbol " grace,"
there are two consequences that should be noted. First of all,
the primary emphasis falls on what has classically been called
subjective as opposed to objective redemption. In this way,
then, theories of objective redemption, many of which tend toward anthropomorphism and mythology, will be left aside.6
When salvation is conceived of in terms of grace one focuses on
the concrete and historical manifestations of the effects of God's
saving love within the Christian economy. This is certainly
the dominant concept of the New Testament itself, for the
primitive community of faith was constituted by the pouring
out of the Spirit and lived in the experiential enthusiasm of
its gifts and charisms. Here then salvation appears as an
economy, a working of God in a history of human events.
The other side of this approach consists in the fact that
salvation is viewed in terms of its breaking forth in this world.
Certainly the meaning of " salvation " is eschatological. IBtimately, salvation cannot but reach its climax in the end-time
and on the other side of history, both for the individual and
for the race, without risking at the same time being undermined
in its very foundation. However, it must also be said that
that salvation is begun now and is taking place within history.
Salvation, although it is the end of history, can only be conceived of by human beings within history and as being worked
out now through history. Tradition has generally maintained
• This is not to deny that ultimately such theories are necessary for systematic
theology. They should, however, conform to concrete historical data and a consistent anthropology and cosmology.

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ROGER HAIGHT

that there is a continuity between the human person in his
entirety now and him. who is saved; and there is a continuity between the love of God experienced now (grace) and final union
with God. Without such a continuity life in this world cannot
be conceived as having an ultimate intrinsic value or worth.
Therefore, while from one limited point of view life in this
world and history may seem. minimized relative to eschatological
salvation, in fact it is maximized. For on the one hand, without God's grace (salvation), what ceases to exist in this world
passes permanently out of existence. And on the other, what
is caught up in God's love (grace) in this world will remain.
The history of salvation in this world is strictly speaking continuous with eschatological salvation, to the same extent that
it will be transformed.
·
Grace is Liberation
The proposition that the effect of grace in human life is
liberation and exactly what that might mean is really the point
at issue in this essay. And this will be developed on two levels,
the personal and / or the interpersonal level and the social or
public or institutional level. A brief statement here of the
method of going about that is in order. That method may be
characterized as experiential and historical.
There can be no affirmation about grace, or about God or
about anything for that matter, outside of experience. Any
and all theology of grace must lie on some bed-rock of religious
experience as its ground. The term "experience " as can be
seen is used very broadly here and this assertion is almost
tautological. But it is not for all that unimportant. Too often
assertions about grace are as utterly gratuitous as grace itself
and seem to rest on mere extrinsic authority. And yet the important question of the very possibility of experiencing God
or grace directly cannot be ignored. And this is rendered more
complex because the history of theology divides on the problem into a subjective mystical tradition that says Yes and an

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545

objective tradition that .says No. 7 There are strong reasons for
affirming both sides of this question and grave dangers of misconception if one affirms either side exclusively; illuminism,
for example, on the one hand, and pure extrinsicism and authoritarianism on the other. Therefore we accept the position
of Rahner, namely that one can and does experience grace but
not " as grace," 8 because this .statement is strictly dialectical.
A both "Yes" and "No" answer to the question of the experience
of grace seems necessary because the movements of grace are
so embedded in human nature and personality, so united with
it, that they are indistinguishable from the self-transcending
capacities of human personality itself. The problem of grace,
then, becomes one of discernment and for the purposes of this
essay the history of the theology of grace will be the guide.
As a first definition of grace it may be said that grace is the
love of God for the human per.son individually and for the race.
And since the action of God cannot be adequately distinguished
from God himself, and insofar as God's love actually reaches
and touches human beings, one may say grace is the selfpresence of God in a personal way to human beings. The actuality of this love and presence of God to the person will certainly make a difference in one's concrete experience; but as
God's authentic presence it cannot be explicitly affirmed outside of faith, that is, a religious experience which despite its
intensity always remains a form of faith. And to protect the
fact that we do not really have a totally unquestionable and
unambiguously direct perception of grace as grace in this world,
it will be better to speak of the experiential aspect of grace as
the " effects of grace."
Secondly, this essay is historical. The history of the theology
of grace is a history of the articulation and interpretation of
Christian religious experience. Or, it is a history of religious
" See for example Francis Clark, " Grace Experience in the Catholic Tradition,"
Theology Digest, XXIII (Autumn, 1975), 226-284.
8 Karl Rabner, "Concerning the Relationship betw.een Nature and Grace," Theological lnvestigationa, I (Baltimore: Helicon Press, 1961), 800.

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ROGER HAIGHT

experience interpreted theologically in the light of the message
of Jesus and the reality of Christ as this is recorded in Scripture.
Christ is the norm for interpreting religious experience as grace
by Christians through the centuries. But at the same time, in
each of the great epochs of Christian history beginning with
Augustine, these interpretationi have taken place in the context of different cultures and special problematics and this has
resulted in a wide variety of " languages " or understandings
of Christian grace and its effects. This history, then, will provide the data for an attempt at a synthetic understanding which
will reach out for the common themes and the central continuous affirmations throughout that history.
Two further procedural questions remain to be explained.
First, the historical treatment of grace is limited to the period
beginning with Augustine and stretching to the present and
does not include the New or Old Testament records of religious
experience; this is quite deliberate. For with Augustine the understanding of grace undergoes a radical shift, one that remained decisive for theology in the west. In the New Testament "grace" refers to God's absolutely gratuitous favor in
regard to human beings. It describes this quality of God in all
of his dealings with humanity in the Christian dispensation.
Quite simply the whole Christian economy in all of its aspects
is grace. Cornelius Ernst too has recognized this quality and
expresses it well:
Grace becomes then an open concept capable of embracing the
whole of God's gift of himself to man, and so capable of indefinitely
various further particularization. It is not as though we were to
itemize God's gifts and call one of them 'grace'; it is rather that
'grace' qualifies the whole of God's self-communication as a gift
beyond all telling. 9

One might say that the concept of grace is adjectival, not in
reference to the syntactical usage of the word but to its func9 Cornelius Ernst, The Theology of Grace (Notre Dame, Indiana:
lishers, Inc., 1974), p. Yl9.

Fides Pub-

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547

tion in a system of understanding. God is gracious and all of
his loving dealings: with human beings are grace.
With Augustine, however, the understanding of grace becomes substantive. Grace is subject matter spoken of; it is
the object of reflection. At first sight this may seem regrettable
because the language of grace is exposed to the danger of objectification or even reification, a problem which becomes especially acute in scholasticism. But at the same time what occurred
in this .shift is really the placing in a new and direct focus of the
problem of a Christian anthropology. Beneath and implied in
the theology of grace from Augustine onwards, despite the
many different contexts in which the question was addressed,
are the absolutely fundamental questions for Christian understanding: What is the nature of the human creature in relation
to God; what is the interrelation between God and the race in
Christian understanding? The theology of grace raises explicitly
for theological reflection the basic suppositions for all other
Christian understandings: How does God relate to and deal
with the human person, the race, the world? It is this basic
and narrowly focused question which interests us here.
One other methodological consideration has to do with the
symbol "liberation" as a hermeneutical principle. The word
" liberation " is a substantive form of the verb meaning to set
free, to release from restraint or bondage. As a verbal symbol
it embodies .a host of meanings that cluster around various
experiences of freedom, autonomy and human liberty. It is
chosen as a central symbol for interpreting the effects of grace
for .several reasons. God's grace and salvation have always
been conceived in terms approaching some form of " liberation "
as the words " salvation" and " redemption " themselves indicate. And shifting to the present, the experiences of freedom
and liberation in various forms are very much part of modem
culture. The consciousness of being in history and the relative
freedom from the past that historical consciousness mediates,
the experience of human autonomy and a new ability and
responsibility to control, in some measure, both nature and

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ROGER HAIGHT

history, the tendency to define the very nature of the human
person as freedom, all these cultural factors make the symbol
" liberation " very germane to modern culture and at the same
time pose the question of the relation between these experiences
and the effects of grace. And finally the phenomenon of liberation theology, which explicitly links action for social and political
justice with Christian salvation and therefore grace, is dependent both on the themes of modern culture and Christian theology and so this linkage invites testing.
The symbol " liberation " is used heuristically, that is, we
shall try to inform the term " liberation " with the content
and meaning that is given by the history of the theology of
grace. This does not make Augustine, for example, a liberation theologian in the sense of that title today. Quite on the
contrary, the attempt is to discover what Augustine said in
terms of liberation, and consequently the meaning of liberating
grace in the theology of the past. Despite the twisting and
turning of this history, certain constant, continuous and common themes will stand out. Only after this process is completed
may it be asked how these understandings of how God relates
to the world in grace are to be interpreted further :for today.
The method, then, is one of retrieval which both interprets the
past history of the theology of grace from a contemporary point
of view and fully allows contemporary affirmations to be informed by the Christian experience of the past.

Salvation is Liberation
Salvation is grace. But grace is liberating and the effect of
grace is liberation. Therefore, salvation is liberation. If the
logic o:f the reasoning of this project, which has been presented
in simple syllogistic form here, is sound, the conclusion .should
be that the meaning of salvation includes some form of liberation. Of course the exact content of the symbol "liberation "
remains to be determined. And before embarking on that investigation we shall conclude this prolegomenon by highlighting
the precise questions that are at stake in the proposition that

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549

" salvation is liberation," especially insofar as it is approached
through the theology of grace.
The issue appears differently from different points of view
but in each case it is a fundamental and comprehensive question that is at .stake. In the :first place we are seeking a synthetic and descriptive theology of grace, one culled from major
Christian thinkers of the past. On the one hand, in such a
theology of grace, one uncovers the dynamics of salvation in
this world because grace is the concrete or actual and therefore
objective mediation of God's salvi:fic will to persons and the
race. On the other hand, the theology of grace also defines a
Christian anthropology and hence provides the fundamental
groundwork for Christian spirituality or piety. One thus sees
that another dimension of the issue is that of a general theory
of the Christian life, that is, an overarching understanding of
the relationship between God and human beings rather than
an elaborated practical piety. Moreover, the question of how
grace operates in Christian life and in human lives, when generalized, becomes the question of history. In fact, then, we shall
investigate the basic data for a theology of salvation history
insofar as this is simply a more precise naming of the general
working of grace in history. And if one conceives of grace as
universally operative in the world and in history, one is also
laying the foundations for a theology of history. These, then,
are the questions we hope to respond to in the investigation of
salvation, grace, liberation.

II.

GRACE ON THE PERSONAL LEVEL

A survey of the history of the theology of grace since Augustine in a few pages can really be no more than a series of generalizations. To facilitate the task we have chosen four :figures
as representative of major epochs of theological understanding
in the west: Augustine, Aquinas, Luther and Karl Rahner.
These men have played a major role in determining the language of grace both for their own period and subsequently. It
can almost be presumed that in thinkers of this stature a uni-

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ROGER HAIGHT

versa! problematic is being addressed in their thought and a
central theme is expressed in their understanding. It is presumed that most are familiar with their doctrines on which
these summary observations and interpretations are based.

Basic Problems and Constant Themes
The legacy of Augustine to the theology of grace was a conception that finally came to sharp focus in his prolonged controversy with Pelagius or with what he understood to be Pelagianism. Grace is understood in the context of and relative to
human freedom and love. In Augustine's thought grace is closely identified with the immanent working of the Spirit of God
within the human personality. For the profoundly questioning
mind of Augustine grace alone responds to the question of the
ultimate .source of human goodness, to the question: Why is
there human goodness at all in the world? Ultimately, he says,
it is God's grace that is responsible for self-transcending love
and the consequent expanding of the horizon of freedom beyond mere choice of objects or decisions based on self-centered
designs. This understanding has been written into the doctrine
of the Church. For his part Augustine did not extend the
working of grace universally beyond the Christian order of
things. But it follows from the Augustinian doctrine that where
there is authentic self-transcending love, there God's saving
grace is operative.
During the course of the thirteenth century and through the
assumption of the categories of Aristotle's philosophy of nature,
the context for understanding grace radically shifted. The climax of this development is seen in Aquinas's later treatment of
grace in his Summa Theologiae. Although the central Augustianian assertions remain, Aquinas's understanding of grace is
at bottom fundamentally different. In his thought grace is seen
relative to the human person and race as finite and limited,
as created " nature." In this context grace is a new power and
nature, elevating and supernatural, and also divinizing because
through this habitual gift to the soul one " participates " in

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God's own life. Grace is absolutely and metaphysically necessary for attaining eternal salvation because the finite created
nature is teleologically incapable of reaching the supernatural
and revealed goal of communion with God to which we are
called. Human beings, then, precisely as human beings, are
transformed and raised up by the infusion of a new quality and
level of being called grace.
Although such themes as the absolute transcendence and
sovereignty of God carry over from the via moderna into the
reformers, still the development in Luther's theology of grace
is really a sharp break with the scholastic mode of thought.
Here the understanding of grace is set in the context of an interpersonal relationship between God and the human person
with the Word as the mediator. Grace is defined relative to
human sinfulness: God's grace is forgiving. Although this
theme is common to both Augustine and Aquinas, it is central
to Luther and explained by him in considerably different
fashion. Grace is God's mercy, forgiveness and love for the
sinner as a person, and in and through this personal relationship,
sustained by the Word and an actual faith response, the sinner
is transformed even while concupiscence or sin remains.
Much of Rahner's earliest theology of grace, while it retains
an absolutely fundamental position in his thought, is directed
to overcoming the problems which had become inherent in the
scholastic language of grace. Starting from scholastic premises,
he argues to the primacy of uncreated grace and thereby overcomes the objectivism of scholastic categories by justifying
personalist categories for talk about grace. 10 Secondly, arguing
against extrinsicism he establishes the unity of the natural and
supernatural orders and thus overcomes the dualism implicit
in the then current neo-.scholasticism with his concept of the
"supernatural existential." 11 The real advance in the theology
1

°Karl Rahner, " Some Implications of the Scholastic Concept of Uncreated

Theological Investigations, I, pp. 819-846.
Karl Rahner, " Concerning the Relationship between Nature and Grace,"
op. cit., pp.
11

ROGER HAIGHT

of grace mediated by Rahner then occurs when he views grace
in the context of universal human history and eschatology. 12
God's salvific will is universal, and grace is God's personal offer
and presence of himself to all people across the whole of history. While all the major themes of the past are preserved in
Rahner's understanding, there is a decided shift and development here for grace is seen as operating generally and universally outside the boundaries of Christianity in a concrete existential way as well as in a public and social way in other religions.
Here then are four fundamental aspects and themes, all of
which, except the last, are in a sometimes greater, sometimes
lesser, degree common to the history of the Christian understanding of grace. Grace is God's love for human beings, a love
that affects, converts and transforms human freedom and loving,
a love that is accepting and forgiving, a love that raises a person
up to become a " new kind of existence "; and, it may be added,
since this love is universally offered to and operative in all human beings, it is at work transforming history.
The Effects of Grace

The effects of grace as they are manifested in religious experience can be drawn out still further from the history of the theology of grace. Once again the intention here is simply to
present a synthetic overview which must consist in no more
than the briefest statements of the major themes underlying
the theologies of grace of the past. In each case these themes
may be articulated in terms of the symbol "liberation."
Liberation from Oneself.

Although present as well in the other authors, this effect of
grace stands out in Luther because of the experiential and personalistic manner in which he frames his understanding.
Through faith one receives forgiveness and acceptance by a
12 See Rahner's three articles on salvation history in Theological Investigations,
V (Baltimore: Helicon Press, 1966), pp. 95-158.

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divine and cosmic power with the tenderness of a personal
God. In the experience of God's grace, God's favor, benevolence, mercy and love, a person is accepted precisely as he is,
in spite of his unworthiness and sin. In psychological terms,
just as one gains his identity in others' reaction or response, so
here the Christian gains an "absolute identity," one that is
ultimately positive even though it includes judgment, because
of God's love. A per:son can accept himself, both his present
and his past, in spite of the finitude, sin and irresponsibility that
have gone to constitute the self. This is an enormously liberating experience. And in places Luther's descriptions of the effects
of grace, although he uses a vastly different language, are remarkably close to the effects of grace as seen by Aquinas in
such terms as " elevation," " divinization " and " participation " in the divine life.18 By an almost mystical union with
Christ, according to Luther, and in a love relationship symbolized in a bridal image, the liberation from self transforms
Christian life into life on another plane. 14
Liberati-On from Sin.

Augustine too described grace as liberating one from sin but
in a way quite different from Luther. Here .sin is seen as egoism.
By sin is meant the turning of human motive and intention
and consequent behavior back in upon itself so that value outside the self is not enjoyed in itself but used for the self. The
13 This correlation is made on the basis of " experience " in its broadest sense
of a way of perceiving and responding to reality. In fact the experience underlying Luther's theology and that underlying Aquinas's theology are vastly different
methodologically. In contrast to Luther, Aquinas's personal experience remains
largely hidden because of the metaphysical, objective and " scientific " quality
of his thought. But at the same time the Aristotelian world view and the whole
theological milieu which was in part shaped by it constitute a medium of experience. For a comparison of the theologies of Luther and Aquinas at this elementary level sec Otto Pesch, "Existential and Sapiential Theology-the Theological Confrontation between Luther and Thomas Aquinas," Catholic Scholars
Dialogue with Luther, ed. by Jared Wicks (Chicago: Loyola University Press,
1970), pp. 61-81.
14 Martin Luther, The Freedom of the Chris.ti.an Man, in Dillenberger, Martin
Luther (Garden City, N. Y.: Anchor Books, Doubleday & Co., 1961), p. 61.

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ROGER HAIGHT

person as a center of consciousness is a center of reality and
what is beyond the self is drawn into the self and exists for
the self. Sin is thus both a mode of existence and the activities
flowing from this stance of autonomy and hubris. Human freedom is trapped or bound within itself so that self-transcendence,
any desire for the good as such, is impossible. Grace breaks
this self-enclosed state of human existence. Grace liberates human freedom from sin by engendering in the personality, in the
human mind and will, a delight and desire transcending the self
and responding to value outside the .self and for its own sake.
Augustine is most explicit about this liberating effect of grace
in the actual moment of conversion and in the life of the believer who lives his life for God. But at the same time he recognized experiences before his own final Christian conversion
as impulses of grace causing .self-transcendence.15 Thus the
working of grace and its liberating effect is a process that need
not be limited in such a way that God is seen as the only explicit motive for acting; it need not be limited to the realm of
explicitly religious experience, although this indeed is its goal.

Freedom to Love.
In Augustine the freedom to love is simply the other side
of freedom from sin. Grace does not destroy free choice; quite
on the contrary it establishes it, expands its horizon and
guarantees it. 16 Quite consistently with current understanding,
Augustine saw the human personality as a mixture of freedom and determinism. Such was the power of habit and
custom to bind freedom itself from within, that despite the
power to choose this or that object it is not in the power of
freedom to love authentically. God alone through the power
1 • For example, what may in effect be called Augustine's first conversion to
"truth" was a self-transcending experience which he credited to God's grace.
The Confessions of St. Augustine, Bk. III, Ch. 4 (Garden City, N. Y.: Image
Books, Doubleday, 1960), pp.
16 Augustine, " On the Spirit and the Letter," Ch. LI! in Basic Writings of Saint
Augustine, I, ed. by Whitney Oates (New York: Random House, 1948), pp. 498500.

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of his grace enables freedom to love. This freedom to love,
liberty, as Augustine called it, does not strictly speaking add
to or multiply the concrete opportunities or objects of free
deCision. Rather grace releases freedom from its inner constriction and positively gives it a new horizon and scope, a new
motive. The power to love, to delight in good and value outside the self and ultimately the supreme good, God, engenders
a whole new existence in a person precisely by altering his fundamental orientation. Grace literally frees one from all objective law because the very ideal that the law points to becomes
internalized; the Spirit of love is the generating force of behavior. Quite simply, grace is the force of God working in
human existence moving it in love.
Liberati-Onfrom Nature.
In Aquinas, the reason why human beings need grace is that
they do not have the power within themselves to achieve the
goal for which they were intended, i. e., the utterly transcendent
goal of union with God. Human nature is a capacity for personal communion with God even while the active power to
achieve this is lacking. This new principle of activity is grace.
Grace thus liberates the human person from finitude, from the
limited and limiting aspects of his nature. The expansive
power, both as a habit and as a motus, 11 opens up human beingin-this-world to a higher possibility, to a higher form of activity
and love that is destined for a goal that utterly transcends native possibilities, namely, personal union with God.

Liberati-On from the World.

This important theme of liberation from the world is found
in all theologies of grace but is most clearly expressed in Luther.
By one's union with Christ through grace one shares in Christ's
kingship, so that " every Christian is by faith so exalted above
17 The action of creatures "depend
upon God in two respects: in one way, ·
because they have the form whereby they act from him; in another, because they
are moved by him to action," Th. Aquinas, S. Theol., I-II, q. 109, a. 1.

556

ROGER HAIGHT

all things that, by virtue of a spiritual power, he is lord of all
things." 18 This is not a physical power, but power springing
from union with God as transcendent and absolute. As mentioned earlier, in very different terms but expressive of the
same theme, Aquinas speaks of being raised up or elevated by
grace in such a way that one participates in divine life; one
shares a divine kind of existence. 19 The taking cognizance of
this union with God in religious experience is at the same time
an experience relativizing everything that is finite. Grace therefore frees one from all fear of the world; it is a relativization
of every cultural product and a liberation from ultimate fear
of every human institution. The world and its history, as Rahner puts it, is demythologized and demystified. 20

Liberation from Death.
The human person, according to Augustine, desires to be.
The internal desire not to cease to exist in time as all other
things do, not to pass away but to be permanently, incorruptibly, absolutely, and eternally, grounds the dynamism of life
itself. Grace responding to that desire, both by turning one towards God and acting as the medium of the experience of God,
liberates from death and establishes human being as autonomous. " If you begin by wishing to exist, and add a desire for
fuller and fuller existence, you rise in the scale, and are furnished for life that supremely is." 21 Of course death, and the
suffering in this world which is an integral part of death, must
still be undergone. And death retains its threatening and fearLuther, op. cit., p. 68.
Grace, insofar as it is a habit and an accident, is not an entity but rather
a mode of being of the human person (his soul); and this mode of being is a participation in divine goodness and love itself. (Summa Theologiae, I-II q. 110,
a. 2, ad 8 & ad 2.) This cannot be experienced directly according to Aquinas,
but it can be known inferentially and imperfectly in such experiences as "delight
in God." ST, I-II, q. 112, a. 5.
••Karl Rahner, "Christianity and the 'New Man,' " Theological Investigations,
V, pp. 140-148, 152-158.
21 Augustine, "On Free Will," Bk. III, vii, 21, in Augustine:
Earlier Writings,
ed. by John H. S. Burleigh (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1958), p. 405.
18
19

GRACE AND LIBERATION

557

ful aspect, but not ultimately so. To the extent one is grasped
by God's grace and surrenders to it, in the same measure can
death be met with peace. Grace liberates from the ultimate
terror of death and transforms it from a passion into an action.
It liberates also from the terror of time and history and releases constructive energy in a context of hope.
Liberatwn for God (and His Designs).
Liberation from is also a liberation for. In all theologies of
grace the effect of grace is a liberation for God. In Augustine
through grace one loves God as the source and ground of all
goodness. In Aquinas one's whole nature is recreated through
its permanent attitudes (virtues) and in its action toward
union with God. In Luther one is by grace already united with
God and thus saved; but from a good tree good fruits come.
One may add that liberation for God is a liberation that enables
God's will to be done. Grace liberates human beings for the
designs of God.
Liberation for the Neighbor.
Although explained in different ways by different theologies
of grace, liberation for the neighbor appears in all as an essential
element and in some as the very criterion for the operation of
grace in human life. In Aquinas grace informs the whole person
and in the will it appears as charity. And charity, which is
primarily love of God, plays itself out towards salvation through
the moral life of love of neighbor. This conception has the advantage of integrating grace into the whole of life as it moves
through history. In Luther, however, the liberating effect of
grace for the neighbor is dramatically and idealistically represented. An essential component of God's grace is a spontaneously and utterly gratuitous, altruistic love of neighbor.
Catritas in Luther means primarily love of neighbor, and one
does not love the neighbor in order to love God, nor does one
love God through the neighbor. Rather, having received grace
a per.son is internally liberated and turns to the neighbor for
his own sake. The Christian is a servant without desire for re-

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ROGER HAIGHT

ward. 22 In Rahner, finally, love of God and love of neighbor,
although they can be distinguished objectively, tend to merge
into a single transcendental reality of self-transcending experience at the very deepest level of experience. 23 And here one has
rejoined the Augustinian existential tradition: Where there is
self-transcendence, there is the movement of grace.

Liberation for the World and History.
The affirmation that grace effects a liberation in human personality for the world and for history is both a climax and a
turning point in the argument presented here. The discussion
has centered up to now on the effects of grace within the human
person; indeed the history of the theology of grace is narrowly
focused on the personal reality of grace. But at the same time
the effects of grace include a liberating or opening out of personal existence to God and his designs, to the neighbor, and
consequently to the world understood as other people in history.
Salvation as it is begun in this world in a life under the influence of grace is a concrete, visible and external life lived
among other people in a public way. To say that the effects
of grace are lives lived for the world and for history, therefore,
is to shift the whole context of the discussion to that of the
public or historical effects of grace, the question of the history
of salvation, the social manifestations of grace and a theology
of history. It is to this that we now turn.

III.

GRACE IN HISTORY

The modern conception of human existence is characterized
by a historical consciousness, a consciousness of being in history.
92 " Here faith is truly active through love, that is, it finds its expression in
works of the freest service, cheerfully and lovingly done, with which a man willingly
serves another without hope of reward; and for himself he is satisfied with the
fullness and wealth of his faith." Luther, op. cit., pp. 73-74.
••See Karl Rahner, "Reflections on the Unity of the Love of Neighbour and
the Love of God," Theological, Investigations, VI (Baltimore: Helicon Press,
1969), pp. !lSl-249. The theme is developed again from a slightly different point
of view in " Experience of Self and Experience of God," Theological Investigations,
XII (New York: The Seabury Press, 1975), pp. l!l!l-132.

GRACE AND LIBERATION

559

Moreover it is taken for granted that human beings in some
degree have responsibility for history; otherwise the many expressions either implicit or explicit of guilt for certain human
conditions would make no sense. In some degree human beings
can control history, modify its course, alter its conditions. Human history is an opening towards the future and all share the
responsibility to make it a better world and a better future
for others with us and after us. So strong is this responsibility
felt by many, and so enormous the project it entails, that it is
often accompanied by an unwillingness to be distracted from
the task, especially by religion.24 Thus the other side of historical consciousness and its sense of autonomy is the secularized consciousness. By this is meant a feeling of being at
home in this world and in time, a loss of an interventionist God
who will solve our problems, a view of the world as the raw
material for human creativity.
These developments have in turn placed a considerable burden on the self-understanding of Christianity which has in the
past been overly concerned with private life and a personal
salvation that practically speaking referred to life after death.
Many of our conceptions from the past, which we are quite
rightly slow in changing but must change nevertheless, so stress
a mythic conception of God and our absolute dependence on
his interventions that they are in almost visible conflict with
that other everyday conception of reality. Culture thus has
forced Christian theology to look again at the doctrines of eschatology, the doctrines of salvation and salvation history, the
doctrine of how grace is operative in the world and in human
history at large, the doctrine of the Christian life. We are less
inclined to accept cosmological theories of salvation or redemption at face value or uncritically, or to imagine God entering
history in a visible and direct way as an additional factor in a
chain of events. 25 If God works in history it must be in and
••Karl Rahner, "The Mission of the Church
the Humanizing of the World,"
Doctrine and Life (April, 1971), 174-178.
••An objective theological theory and systematic conceptualization of God's
nature and how he has effected Redemption objectively is the term of theological

566

ROGER HAIGHT

through the agency of the human beings who make history.
And God's objective salvation must be seen first of all and
concretely as the effects of God's grace first in human community in a personalist sense and then in wider " objective "
societal structures which emerge through history. To grasp
objective salvation, that is, salvation going on outside the individual as an a priori invitation, one must begin by seeing
grace working publicly in history.
The question which will be addressed in this third section
thus concerns the public working of grace. Can saving grace
be understood in a way that furthers social responsibility? And
can this grace be seen further as a factor underlying the external
and public events of history? And, finally, is such a view totally
discontinuous with previous theologies of grace or can Christian
tradition be adapted without violence to this new historical
context which increasingly forms the matrix for our understanding?

Raimer on Grace in the World and in History
Much of Rahner's early theology is an effort to mediate between the scholastic theology that preceded him and the modem
world. There are three themes, generally accepted today, from
his theology of grace which may serve as an introduction to
the further consideration of grace in the context of history.
The first point is Rahn er' s conception of the unity of the
natural and graced orders of human existence. He argues this
position from the doctrine of the universal .salvific will of God.
Given this teaching from Christ's revelation, one must also
affirm that human nature or the human person is different from
what he would have been had not God willed salvation, since
human existence is totally dependent on God's will and intention. Human " nature," then, as it actually exists must be under
the influence of its "supernatural" end, goal and calling. Huunderstanding and not its point of departure. Given the post-enlightenment situation of modern theology one cannot begin one's theological understanding from.
a preformed objective theory.

GRACE AND LIBERATION

561

man existence embodies within itself a tendency or dynamism
or positive drive for its salvific end, a dynamism which is itself
grace or gift, but which informs all human-being. In this way
Rahner breaks down every dualistic conception of the natural
sphere and that of grace, the kingdom of man and the kingdom
of God, the secular or profane and the religious. Grace is part
of the whole of human life and existence in all its aspects. One
must view the whole of the human sphere, the world, positively
because it is under the influence of grace. 26 Grace is one with
human nature and inextricably interwoven with human life and
activity. In no way, except where it is a sinful rejection of
grace, can the world or life in it be viewed negatively. Its very
existence is grounded in an offer of a personal encounter with
God which is grace. 27
A second contribution of Rahner is his explanation of the
unity of profane and salvation history which, in a sense, is a
mere corollary of the former thesis that emerges when it is
placed in the context of history. Given God's universal salvific
will it must follow that every single being has an actual and
concrete opportunity or occasion to encounter saving grace;
otherwise, the universal salvific will of God would make no
sense. Rahner explains how this can occur through a conception of implicit revelation and implicit faith; whenever a person
transcends himself in a moral act he is implicitly responding
to God's self-communication or offer of himself in grace. In
this way any radical dualism between secular and general salvation history is broken down. There is but one history. The
history of the race we know, and the whole of this history, is
a history of salvation grounded and supported throughout its
length by the permanent, ever active and effective offer of
•• Thus the terms " world " and " sin " are not synonymous terms and need
not necessarily he correlated.
27 See Karl Rahner, "Concerning the Relationship between Nature and Grace,"
pp. 297-817. Also relevant are his articles "Nature and Grace," Theological Investigations, IV (Baltimore: Helicon Press, 1966), pp. 165-188, and "The Order
of Redemption within the Order of Creation," The Christian Commitment (New
York: Sheed and Ward, 1968), pp. 88-74.

ROGER HAIGHT

God's grace. And as a Christian one must believe that this
grace ultimately triumphs over the petty evil of human beings.
In short, one cannot a priori and consistently view secular history and its human mechanisms negatively. 28
One last theme from Rahner's theology of grace will lead
to a consideration of some formal theses for a theology of history. Rahner is insistent on the fact that one's encounter with
salvation occurs in one's encounter with the everyday world.
Without prejudice to organized religious or church life, " it occurs always in an encounter with the world and not merely
in the confined .sector of the sacred or of worship and ' religion '
in the narrow sense; it occurs in encounters with one's neighbor,
with one's historical task, with the so-called world of everyday
life, in and with what we call the history of the individual and
of communities." 29 This is so because salvation and grace are
really identical. " Grace is really this .salvation itself, for it is
God himself in his forgiving and divinizing love." ao This concrete existential and historical point of view also allows Rahner
to understand God's universal and eternal saving will and the
concrete offer of his divinizing and forgiving self-communication, i.e., his actual self-communication in history, as materially
unified, co-extensive and mutually causative. God's universal
saving win causes saving history, and actual salvation history
is the ground of this saving will, so that actual historical salvation is in this sense the saving will of God itself. 81 From this
perspective it follows that a theology of history or saving history cannot really be established by a-priori reasoning. In
formulating a material theology of history, one must look

••See Karl Rahner, "History of the World and Salvation History," Theofogical
Investigations, V, pp. 97-114. While this may seem an unduly positive view of
history, it is so only from the point of view of Christian faith in God. This same
history is also one of human irresponsibility, sin and guilt so that such a view
of history can only be one of faith.
••Ibid., pp. 98-99.
•• Ibid., p. 98.
81 Karl Rahner, "Salvation,"
Sacramentum Mundi, V (New York: Herder and
Herder, 1970), p. 430.

GRACE AND LIBERATION

563

at the actual events of history, both inside the religions and
beyond them, as well as at Christianity. But at the same time,
relying on a theology of grace and viewing the effects of grace
in an experiential and quasi-empirical way, one can outline
some formal theses or themes relative to how and where this
saving history becomes manifest.

Themes for a Liberationist Theology of History
Within the context of the evaluation of the world and of history as found implied in Rahner's theology of grace, what can
be said from the history of the theology of grace that has
bearing on an interpretation of God's grace working in history?
In what way can grace, or God acting through his grace, be
seen as operative in society and history, and this in a liberating
way? By answering these questions we approach a liberationist
interpretation of .salvation history.

Grace as a Liberation from the World and for the Neighbor.
As a first theme, clearly present in Luther's theology of grace,
grace as a liberation from the world and for the neighbor is most
important and fundamental. The contact with God mediated
through Christian revelation or through any religious experience which in Christian understanding may be called an effect
of God's grace, relativizes the world and history precisely insofar as one is grasped by the transcendence of God. And at
the same time, one is liberated in gratitude for dedicated service to the neighbor in Luther's terms; one is freed for selftranscending love in Augustine's. Although formulated as a
personal experience here, in fact there will be no such thing as
a " liberation " movement for others unless there are internally
liberated people who are freed from this world and fear of its
powers and institutions. There can be no authentic or altruistic
action for others that is not ultimately the result of God's internal liberating grace. Thus what seems at first sight to be
a personal effect of grace is really in its full dimensions essentially interpersonal. The effect of grace is essentially social, and

564

ROGER HAIGHT

urges human personality towards expansiveness and self-transcendence.

God Acts in Loving Human Freedom.
This assertion is based on Augustine's and, afterwards, the
Christian doctrine of the necessity of prevenient grace for any
and all self-transcending and saving acts of love. To appreciate
this insight one must ask, as Augustine did, the simple but fundamental question of why there is or how there could be any
authentic moral goodness or love at all in this world. Relying
on his own personal experience as well as on Scripture (for
Scripture reveals both sin and grace correlatively) , Augustine
responded with his doctrine of the absolute priority of grace.
From this it follows that God and his grace are at the root of
all love in this world; wherever there is authentic love in this
world, there God is acting. This is the precise point of his argument against Pelagius. And here one has a first principle for
understanding how God acts in history without resorting to
either mythological or interventionist views of God performing
on the same level as other causes in the chain of natural events.
God's grace, God's effective presence, is the driving and sustaining force of all human goodness and love, and this is the
ultimate basis of every form of authentic, that is, self-transcending human community, no matter how basic and natural
any particular communitarian form may seem.

G@d Acting in the World.
That it is God who is at work in the world in loving human
freedom is explained by Aquinas's notion of cooperative
grace. Under the category "operative grace" Aquinas examines
the effects of grace within the human personality, namely, justification and sanctification. Cooperative grace refers to the
effects of grace as it is seen flowing through human freedom
out into the world and the public sphere in action. 82 There can
••For the division (or, better, distinction, for it is the same grace) between
operative and cooperative grace, S. T., I-II, q. 111, a.!!; for the effects of operative

GRACE AND LIBERATION

565

be no danger of Pelagianism here when one grasps the fact that
this whole dynamism from start to finish is initiated and sustained by the impulse and drawing of God's grace. 38 In this
way, in the lives of the prophets, the saints and every selftranscending person, grace or God's action breaks through into
the public sphere of everyday life and makes God's action
visible, tangible, concrete and real in the world. In the words
of William James, the saints are the authors and increasers of
goodness in this world: they mediate goodness. Empirically
they are a genuine creative force for society; they tend to make
real and actual a degree of virtue, an ideal, that would not even
be assumed as possible without them. " They are the impregnators of the world, vivifiers and animators of potentialities
of goodness that but for them would lie forever dormant." 34
The saint is "an effective ferment of goodness, a slow transmuter of the earthly into a more heavenly order." 35

God's Action for God's Designs.
Another theme from Aquinas may be exploited for a theology
of history. Obviously one does not find a strong sense of history in St. Thomas in the contemporary sense of our historical
consciousness and sensibility of process moving toward an open
future. Quite on the contrary his whole theology of grace is
firmly structured by teleology, and teleology is quite different
from eschatology. But since they are structurally cousins, it
would not be illegitimate to transform Aquinas's teleological
affirmations into the context of collective human history. In
Aquinas one has the basic affirmation, in TeSelle's words," that
grace opens up a possibility which does not lie within the scope
grace, namely justification, q. ll3; and for the effects of cooperative grace, namely
"merit," q. 114.
88 Substantially the same view appears in Augustine where he maintains that
grace does not destroy freedom but sustains it while at the same time loving freedom is a consent to the power and movement of grace. On the Spirit and the Letter, Ch. LX, Basic Writings of Saint Augustine, p. 512.
••William James, The Varieties of Religious Experience (New York: Collier
Books, 1961), p. 284.
•• Ibid., p. 285.

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ROGER HAIGHT

of man's natural powers and is not implied by his being a
man." 36 In an historical and eschatological context a doctrine
of cooperative grace implies that, through grace and people
animated by grace, possibilities in and through history tending
towards God's design in history, but which are not possible by
human powers alone, are opened up and worked out by God
through graced human agency. In scriptural language, God's
action in and through human loving is moving toward the goal
of his kingdom, the kingdom of communion, harmony, peace
and reconciliation. Certainly this is not observable in history
on the grand scale nor does it imply a notion of steady progress
since it is open to reversal. It is an object of faith. And when
it occurs, even in a. partial way, it is precisely the work of grace
since such a goal manifestly exceeds human capabilities.
It may be well here to consider for a moment Luther's theology of grace because he departs from Aquinas (and Augustine) precisely on this point of teleological dynamism. 37 There
seem to be even fewer grounds in Luther for a theology of history than in Aquinas because for him one is saved now, already,
in an actual interpersonal relationship with God through
Christ's word. Moreover, there is a tendency to distinguish
the graced person from his works, his faith in God from his
life in the world, the two kingdoms. In Luther, freedom and
action for the neighbor are not in themselves salvific but rather
presuppose salvation and fl.ow from it. These strong distinctions
by Luther were felt to be necessary during his time in order
absolutely to rule out every kind of Pelagianism in the theology
of grace. After that is admitted, and assuming an existential
and historical point of view, one must affirm that there can be
no radical distinction between what a person is and what he
does; the two are mutually implied in each other. But also
in the existential order one can combine the Thomistic and
86 Eugene TeSelle, "The Problem of Nature and Grace," The Journal of Religion,
XLV (1965), pp. 234-241.
87 Brian Gerrish, Grace and Reason: A Study of the Theology of Luther (Oxford:
Clarendon Press, 1962), pp. 131-138.

GRACE AND LIBERATION

567

Lutheran emphases in an already-not-yet tension that responds
in a salutary manner to the question of understanding the
Christian life in the broader context of history. 38 "Already":
We are saved already by God's forgiveness and this gives the
Christian an absolute freedom sustained by grace to respond
to the neighbor. If there is no salvation experienced in faith
now, there can be no ground for hope in the future. Thus salvation experienced now through grace is a precondition for freedom to turn to the world. "Not yet": At the same time we
are not yet either personally or as a group or as a race saved.
What we are now must be .sustained by grace in our action and
this action is likewise constitutive of our being. Thus Lutheran
and Thomistic spiritualities can be seen as complementary and,
held in tension, they serve to correct the dangers on both sides.

A Liberationist Theology of History
Personal sin is overcome by grace because it is both God's
personal forgiveness and the transforming power of his Spirit
turning egocentrism into love. But in order to build a theological understanding of history, one must pass from the level
of the interpersonal to the more general and objective level
of the collective, societal and public. Here one encounters the
concept of " social sin." The notion of " social sin " is highly
paradoxical and complex and the few remarks made here will
scarcely do justice to the reality. This brief analysis is meant
simply as a general definition to engender clarity in the discussion since the concept of social sin is frequently abused.
•• This may be done because the methods and conclusions of Luther over against
either Aquinas or Trent are not contradictory despite the language of the canons
of the Decree on Justification. Scholastic suppositions underlie this Tridentine
statement, despite its Scriptural phrasing, and as Otto Pesch has shown, the basis
or ground of understanding, the method and consequently the meaning, of Luther
and scholasticism are not contradictory but simply different because assertions are
made from different points of view. See Otto Pesch, art. cit. It should be added
that Calvin's introduction of the distinction between justification and sanctification
meets this problem squarely and at the same time retains the Reformation's
emphasis on the divine initiative with respect to justification.

568

ROGER HAIGHT

Social Sin.
The prime analogate for " sin " is personal sin, and this may
be understood objectively as a human action injurious to another
person or the self. Sin is also" against God" as it were indirectly; i. e. in so far as both the subject offending and the person
offended are God's own creation, the injury is against his loving
will. Secondly, and much more basically, sin refers to selfish
acts and the basic egoism from which they flow. Here sin is
defined subjectively and appears both as an inner condition of
human existence and as the source out of which objective sin
flows. Self-sufficient autonomy means that one makes of himside the self; sin uses other persons as means for self-enhanceself-transcendence, fails to recogniz·e and respond to value outself a kind of center of all reality. Consequently one fails at
ment. Sinful behavior can be seen as an attempt to draw the
outer world into the self in a more or less conscious effort at
subjugation. Thirdly, that which makes sin strictly speaking
sin and not simply an evil is consciousness, some measure of
freedom and responsibility. The scholastic distinction between
material and formal sin is useful here. That which the concept
of morality adds to law is precisely freedom and responsibility.
One should only speak of sin properly so-called when there is
some element of knowledge, freedom, intention and responsibility, for guilt which is the correlate of sin can only be a function of responsible freedom. 89
What can be said of personal sin can also be said of social
sin, but only analogously. The ability to make this transition
to a concept of social sin at all rests on two primal suppositions.
The first is the phenomenon of interdependence and the fact
that human existence is essentially social. There is no such
•• One could of course define sin objectively and mean human action that is
against God's will whether the actor is aware of it or not. In this usage, however,
the concepts of " evil " and " sin " tend to merge and on the level of social sin
this causes enormous confusions. Moreover, even if one imagined a perfect society
with objectively just social structures and material wellbeing, sin in its deepest
sense would remain, for it is part of the existential human condition. Ultimately,
one must resist the temptation to objectify completely both sin and salvation.

GRACE AND LIBERATION

569

thing as total human independence; on every level of existence,
although on some levels more than others, there is an interlocking of human subjects with the result that our actions
always influence others. The second supposition is that the
systems of culture and society that govern or pattern this interaction are created by and sustained by human beings themselves. From the most general and deepest level of culture,
as a system of meanings and values, to the most particular of
institutions that regulate human interchange, social structures
have their origin in and continue to exist through the agency
of human wills. As Peter Berger puts it: " Despite the objectivity that marks the social world we experience, it does not
thereby acquire an ontological status apart from the human
creativity that produced it [and continues to sustain it]." 4-0
To proceed with the analogy, then, because the social systems
or institutions by which human affairs are structured are not
part of nature but functions of human freedom and able to be
changed, insofar as they victimize, oppress, or are generally
harmful and damaging to persons, they are " sinful " at least
in an objective or material sense. Secondly, the intentional
creation of and knowingly deliberate participation in institutions that are harmful to and destructive of human life is sinful
in an exact sense of the term, that is, subjectively and formally.
But here it is most important to note that these institutions
depend on human wills collectively, and that groups, institutions and societies do not have an internal consciousness and
center of freedom in the same way a human person does. Therefore the kind of personal responsibility is radically different
from that involved in one's control over the self and the degree
of personal responsibility will vary enormously according to the
level of participation and the ability to alter a situation. For
example, some social institutions, such as language, become so
instinctively internalized that they function almost like " second
nature."
' 0 Peter Berger, The Social Construction of Reality:
A Treatise in the Sociology
of Knowledge (Garden City, N. Y.: Anchor books, Doubleday, 1967), pp. 60-61.

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ROGER HAIGHT

When one considers all these factors at once it becomes evident that " social sin " is somewhat paradoxical. For to the
extent that behavior becomes purely social, that is, routinized,
unreflective and objective, it ceases in the same measure to be
formally sinful and approaches an objective evil situation. Precisely insofar as sin is social it must be revealed or disclosed
as sin to human consciousnesses.41 Moreover there are probably
very few or no social institutions that do not discriminate and
cause harm to some people. All human beings, then, are caught
in a web of social sin and all suffer implicitly or explicitly from
guilt and need deliverance, salvation and liberation. But over
and above this general condition, there are many instances of
blatantly selfish institutions that with a more or less explicit
intent oppress and destroy some to the benefit of others. But
even here one has to be careful in assigning guilt or judging
intentions. On the one hand because of interdependence one
can kill from afar with no knowledge or awareness or intention.
On the other hand, by definition, all responsibility for social
sin is shared responsibility within a wide spectrum of degree.
Because institutions and systems always appear objective relative to individual awareness or power of action, general prophe.tic denunciations and accusations often meet resistance where
a reasoned appeal to good will might not.

God's Action through Grace against Sin.
In the light of the themes gathered from the history of the
theology of grace and given the concept of social sin presented
here, we can now go on to propose some theses regarding how
God acts in history against sin in a liberating way.
First of all the saving and liberating effect of grace occurs
primarily in the individual personality. 42 In the inner life of
" Personal sin, too, must be disclosed to a person, for how else could one know
he could he other or more than he is? Grace then is also revelatory, for it discloses
to humanity that the way things are is not so necessarily and can ultimately he
different .
.a This is an ontological statement. In a chronological sense grace is mediated

GRACE AND LIBERATION

571

the person, salvation and liberation from sin are materially
and formally identical. This first proposition prevents the confusion of an immediate identification of liberating grace with
an external personal or social liberation. One must affirm that
a person who lives in prison or slavery can still be saved in a
religious sense both in this world and ultimately. And inversely, a person externally free and affluent may be deprived
of inner salvific freedom. Thus the transition from poverty or
oppression to wealth and political freedom should not be confused tout court with the salvation of that subject in the Christian view. But this is not an affirmation denying any connection
between grace and political or social freedom as will be shown
in what follows.
Secondly, action for liberation of others on the part of any
person, or participation in liberation movements, witnesses first
of all to his or her own " salvation " or salvific liberation. Such
social action, if it is authentic, is salvific liberation first of all
for the participants themselves. Here liberation refers to the
self-transcendence that is intrinsic to the saving faith that is
informed by and works through charity in Roman Catholic
terms, or in the freedom for self-transcending love of neighbor
that stems from being saved in Lutheran terms. At this point,
however, one must note the paradox of grace and good works.
The moment one focuses on one's own .salvation in liberation
activity, the project is rendered ambiguous from a religious
point of view. Grace generates spontaneous action for the
neighbor. The use of liberation activity for the neighbor to
gain salvation for oneself or for any other personal goal is no
witness to the inner liberating action of God's grace. And,
needles:s to say, participation in liberation movements for selfto any individual through a community so that one may wish to view the objective means of grace in a community as prior to its operation in any given person.
Such a view, however, should be seen as practical and functional. Logically, persons are prior to community. And ontologically, although the individual and the
community exist in a mutually causative relation, one should avoid the tendency
that flows from this insight to reify community, to view community as a substantial
being.

572

ROGER HAIGHT

ish motives can scarcely be confused with virtue of any sort,
let alone the force of grace.4$
Thirdly, action for liberation, that is, the concrete performance of love of neighbor, is a participation in God's action in
the world. The assumption here is that all genuine love of
neighbor is initiated and sustained by God's liberating grace.
All Christians are agreed that .salvation is a work of God and
of his grace, and there can be no correlation of the idea of liberation with that of salvation except insofar as it is a work of
God. Here, then, human freedom is seen as a kind of instrument or agency of the movement of grace in the world. It
may he added that insofar as this action for liberation is
grounded solidly in the religious sphere and .sustained by God's
grace, it will have as its primary goal that other persons may
be more and not simply have more.
Fourthly, the primary objective of liberative action that is
an effect of saving grace is the person of the neighbor; this action is a form of love of neighbor. Insofar as the neighbor is
a victim of social or institutionalized oppression or violence,
one must, in order to be of any real and permanent assistance,
strike at the roots and causes of this objective situation. But
such an action is positive; its goal is exactly the same as that
of the good Samaritan, namely, helping the neighbor in his
specific need. This point is made to offset several confusions.
One concerns the theme of conflict. Christian action for liberation cannot be in its first movement and intention conflictual,
that is, simply and directly aimed against persons. It is not
an overcoming of formal sin except in the .self. It attacks
social sin not in its formal or subjective aspect because the
Christian ought not accuse other persons of formal sin or make
•• Here one sees that the judgment of intentions, the question of formal sin,
works both ways. For this reason the term " sin " is a highly volatile and often
counter-productive category in public rhetoric. It often confuses justice with
subjective virtue, and thereby projects a superior moral attitude. In its public
discourse (as opposed to its theology) liberation movements would be more
effective arguing towards objective justice against objective injustice rather than
against sin.

GRACE AND LIBERATION

573

them his mortal enemies. Rather liberative action in the Christian view should address structures and institutions precisely
as such, insofar as they appear objective and cause harm to
other persons. These are the .effects of sin, perhaps even in a
formal sense, but they are not necessarily formal sin as such,
that is, a function of a conscious intention and responsible
freedom on the part of many who are involved. This conclusion
has many practical consequences for the attitudes and rhetoric
of the liberationist interpretation of Christianity.
Again, all institutions are ambiguous. Precisely because institutions are based on general laws and common patterns of behavior, the most just society cannot be equally beneficial to all.
Therefore there is always and everywhere a constant need for
social commitment on the part of Christians in any culture and
society. "Social disease" will always exist and thus there will
ever be a focus for active love of neighbor that is the effect of
liberating and saving grace. One does not have to live in the
third world to understand the practical import of a liberationist
interpretation of Christianity. The social concern that is essential and constitutive of authentic Christian faith life, therefore, will always include de facto a concern for justice.
The practical question of how best to help the neighbor, to
find a solution to his oppressive situation, is not and cannot
be decided by Christian revelation or theology. These are practical and even scientific questions which can only be solved
by expertise and practical judgment. Grace supplies only the
inner ground and source of action, its motivation, and the formal criterion of the infinite value of the human person. Ethics
and practical disciplines must work out the strategies and tactics of love of neighbor. In short and a priori, therefore, Christian action for liberation in itself commits one to no ideology.
One does not necessarily have to be a Marxist to love one's
neighbor effectively, or to accept a liberationist interpretation
of Christianity. 44
"It may be, of course, that in this or that historical situation a Marxist analysis
is appropriate and should provide the theoretical basis for the most effective practice of love of neighbor.

574

ROGER HAIGHT

Fifthly, the building of just social structures cannot be simply
equated with salvation since even in the most objectively just
social order the inner sinfulness of human beings would remain.45 Human existence will not cease being affected with concupiscence and its consequences despite objective circumstances
of law, justice, order and collective affluence. In £act, it seems,
the more the material affluence of a people, the greater is the
temptation to sin. Here the themes of grace as both judgment
and divine forgiveness and acceptance of a people or society
in spite of sin are most relevant and important. On the one
hand, then, the positive force and effort at fashioning just
.social structures for the common good are intrinsic and constitutive of Christian faith and the salvation mediated through
it, so that without this dimension and concern Christian life
would be inauthentic. But on the other hand, one cannot
identify Christian salvation with an objective social order or
structure independent of a subjective dimension because there
can be no real salvation without an inner conversion of freedom
itself.
Sixthly, actual love of neighbor displayed in action is also an
offer of grace to all who benefit from this action precisely to
the extent that it is an offer of altruistic or sel£less love that
invites a similar response. Moreover it is a" conviction of sin"
£or those guilty of or responsible for the injury of others in the
same way that the externalization of the message of Christ
confronts sin formally and is a call to repent, a call to conversion. There is a conflictual element in the liberationist interpretation of Christianity just as there is in the gospel. It
is this note that the symbol " liberation " adds to " development," which connotes progressive amelioration without radical
change. "Liberation " suggests change that is more radical,
and even discontinuity, and this is certainly applicable where
grace challenges sin and appeals for conversion. On the one
hand, however, this conflict does not apply to Christian action
• 5 This point is made forcefully by Langdon Gilkey in his new book Reaping the
Whirlwind (New York: Seabury Press, 1977), pp.

GRACE AND LIBERATION

575

against other people. On the other hand, if structures are essentially injurious to people, then one should aim at radically
altering them.
It would be wrong, however, if the negative and conflictual
element of the gospel and grace became exclusive and dominant
as is the tendency in the Latin American liberationist interpretation of Christianity. Because of the social situation of that
continent, whose social structures are viewed as radically or essentially oppressive, the word " development" which means
growth within a system has a negative and pejorative connotation, whereas " liberation," which includes the idea of changing
a system or structure, is a positive symbol. But since a change
in any system will involve the resistance of those whom it
favors, liberation involves conflict. And this element of conflict
pervades the symbol in an almost exclusive way, even when
" liberation " is correlated with " salvation " and the role of
the Church. This is a clear instance of the particularization of a
theological symbol. It seems clear that in a situation where
institutional structures were essentially sound but abused, " development" would be a positive symbol and " liberation," insofar as it meant radical change of a system, would be negative.
Correlatively, on the level of Christian interpretation, one must
be careful not to view grace as exclusively a force against sin;
it is also a positive force of love. And Christianity is not only
a prophetic religion of judgment; it is also a vehicle for the positive building in cooperation with others of graced structures in
the world. It should be noted that this is not a criticism of the
liberationist interpretation of Christianity insofar as it is applied to the Latin American context, but rather a critique of
one of the particularisms of that theology which is not universally applicable and which should not, therefore, be affirmed
in an exclusive or normative sense.
It thus appears that saving grace at work in the human
personality is not and cannot be a purely personal phenomenon
in any individualistic sense precisely because it liberates a person by effecting spontaneous openness to the neighbor. In
this way one can see how the whole economy of grace is histori-

576

ROGER HAIGHT

cal; faith, love and hope are mediated in this world through the
agency of people. Not only the message of Christ, but even
more fundamentally and beyond the sphere of Christianity
grace itself is mediated historically. One cannot separate the
internal and personal working of grace from its visible and
outward manifestations in the lives of people insofar as they
affect other people. God works in the human personality and
in history through the agency of human beings.
Social, Grace.

The grace which first of all has its effects within the personality is also social insofar as it is a force of self-transcendence
concretized in behavior. And insofar as grace becomes real and
tangible in concrete human activity it can become institutionalized as any other human activity can. As Rahner has
pointed out, the grace underlying human history does not remain merely secret but breaks through into the public sphere
and often takes an organized form. 46 From the Christian point
of view, the paradigmatic example of institutionalized or social
grace is the Christian Church, at least in its ideal state. But
other religions are also examples of social grace and in specific
concrete cases may be better historical agents of grace than
the Christian Church. And since one cannot separate the history
of grace from profane or secular history, one might expect examples of social grace in everyday historical existence as well.
It should be noted further that secular humanism itself functions as a religion for many in our culture. But more particularly, the family, insofar as it nurtures the members and fosters
mutual love, might be considered a graced social pattern of
existence. Other more voluntary organizations dedicated to the
welfare of others, such as a hospital or Alcoholics Anonymous,
may be institutionalized forms of love and are therefore social
grace.
•&Rabner, "History of the World and Salvation History," op. cit., pp. 99-100.
See also Karl Rahner, "Christianity and the Non-Christian Religions," op. cit.,
v, pp. 125-181.

GRACE AND LIBERATION

577

This shift of focus from the personal to the public, historical
level of understanding, and the use of the concept of " social
grace," entails a double movement or dynamism to God's action in history. This may be seen in a simultaneous inward and
upward movement on the one hand, and on the other an external and downward movement, both, however, always within
history itself. The inward liberating grace experienced by people, both by individuals and within groups, externalizes itself
and moves upward so to speak in a process of objectification.
It becomes institutionalized. At the same time, those institutions influence others, especially those who are socialized into
them. Not only the ritual patterns of worship and the linguistic
world of doctrine, but also the language and social patterns of
care and concern and service of others may be regarded as external grace for the world. In this way, the action of God in
history through grace may be seen as " objective," a movement
which ultimately rests on the stuff of graced human freedom (s),
but which at the same time enjoys an objective social and public visibility. It is true that an exclusive emphasis on this objective and organizational side of the dynamism of grace could
lead to repressive social action in the name of God (as in the
case of Augustine with the Donatists). But a moment's reflection on such policy is enough to reveal that coercive action or
repressive social and political structures are by their very nature a contradiction of a grace that both externally appeals to
freedom and internally liberates it.
But just as social sin is a complex and nuanced, indeed a
paradoxical, concept, so too is social grace. Insofar as an organization becomes objectified and routinized it may lack precisely the spontaneity and self-actualized intention of selftranscending love that is the fruit of grace. The original intention and motive and direction may be lost. 47 Moreover, there
are probably no examples of pure social grace any more than
•?Moreover, dehumanizing activity might be the actual reality inside the outer
form and contrary to its primary intention. Modem hospitals are often a good
example of this.

578

ROGER HAIGHT

there are of pure social sin. And still another caution must be
introduced. No theology of grace, and consequently no Christian view of history, can fail to recognize the tragic side of the
human enterprise. The Cross of Christ is the permanent Christian symbol of the ever-present and all pervasive reality of sin.
This sin is located in the human spirit itself, collectively and in
each person; it is rooted within human freedom itself; and therefore it is part of the very stuff of history. Thus no human structure that serves to release the human spirit in freedom can
ensure that the exercise of that freedom will not be sinful. Two
consequences flow from this, the one objective and the other
subjective. Objectively, it is impossible to affirm a progressivist
evolutionary view of the history of grace because of the constant
presence of sin within human freedom. And subjectively, a
spirituality whose inner life is animated by a desire to participate in God's action in history must include within itself the
possibility if not the necessity of failure if it is not to run headlong into disillusionment.
The Goal of History.

Having said that, however, we may still ask after the goal
of history in a penultimate sense. Granted that ultimate or
final salvation is to be realized outside of history in the Christian vision, and granted the stark reality of sin, still one may
inquire as to the goal of history in this world on the supposition
that this goal cannot be considered as completely discontinuous
with the former. May we not say that the goal or purpose of
grace in this world is to build more and more institutions which
incarnate, mediate and foster in the world the effects of grace,
namely, forgiveness, self-transcending love, communities of
reconciliation and concern? And if this is the case, is not this
also an expression of the goal of history under the influence of
grace?
To say that the kingdom of God is the goal of the history
of this world is not to assert that this goal will or ·can be
achieved, not at least by human beings. For history is not na-

GRACE AND LIBERATION

579

ture, but a function of human freedom, and that freedom is
marked by sin. The future is open and uncertain, except that
it will certainly not exclude sin. To say that the kingdom of
God is the goal of this our history in time, therefore, is to make
a religious statement. Like " utopia" it is a proposition which
both judges the contemporary situation and draws forth creative energies for the future. It is an affirmation of a hope that
is based on faith, a hope in something that manifestly exceeds
human possibility. And yet it is a conviction that generates a
desire to make one's own life an agent of God's possibility.
· This view is not inconsistent with certain themes in the tradition of the theology of grace especially as seen in Aquinas
and Augustine. If one interprets Aquinas from within a context
of a consciousness of history, that is, by shifting his teleological
understanding of human nature into an historical and eschatological context, one can say that God's action in and through
human loving by cooperative grace is moving toward the goal
of his kingdom, the kingdom of communion, harmony, peace,
reconciliation. This goal is not totally discontinuous with our
history but realized in it and through it. Therefore the limited
but real goal of God's grace in and for history is that grace
become more and more the substance and ground of historical
and cultural institutions. Grace is thus God's action in history,
through human freedom, tending toward the fulfillment of his
own designs in history.
CONCLUSION

As a conclusion to this essay, four observations may be made
concerning a liberationist theology of history as seen from the
perspective of a theology of grace. The first is that one cannot separate the sphere of so-called secular history from the
sphere of the operation of grace. There is but one history and
the whole of it is supported by and under the influence of the
immanent working of God through his grace. Wherever there
is self-transcendence and altruism, in whatever form, there one
can find the working of grace.

580

ROGER HAIGHT

Secondly, whereas the direct saving action of God's grace is
experienced within personal freedom, once the context is shifted
to the interpersonal and social levels, one must also attend to
the objective consequences of self-transcending action toward
others. "Love and do what you will " attends to personal salvation, but not to the effects of graced human behavior within
interpersonal or social contexts. We have only considered in
this essay a first stage of a theory of social grace, namely, the
theological grounding of such a concept. In order for it to be
operative there must be research into the kind of altruistic
behavior required in a given situation. What forms of graced
action should be institutionalized? What will be the effects of
this or that institution or social policy? These are questions
that require study by the human sciences and Christian social
ethics, and responses must be consonant with the particularities
of circumstance. Once one admits a concept of social grace, one
that is also objective and external, then one must also look
carefully at the objective consequences of social behavior.
Thirdly, this view of grace should provide the basis for a
spirituality which is both modern and genuinely Christian. It
would be a spirituality that sees the operation of grace made
manifest precisely in a "building of the earth" in history,
among people, in public institutions that shape human lives.
As such, this spirituality would be the very opposite of one
that called for a withdrawal from the "world," from secular
and profane activities. For this spirituality would see grace as
a call to participate in history. This Christian spirituality would
entail an immersion in the processes of history; in the public
events and crises, large and small, that influence other lives
in this world; in the corporate institutions and structures that
shape and govern human existence in the world; in the small
or local institutions or ways of life that often oppress and dehumanize this group or render that one powerless and passive.
In this spirituality the idea of " saintliness " could not consist
in a " state of life," but would only apply existentially and concretely to some form of engaged behavior. Not only would there

GRACE AND LIBERATION

581

be no double standard of Christian " perfection," the natural
tendency to predicate " perfection " of a life of detachment,
withdrawal and contemplation over against an active life in
the world would be simply reversed. Monastic life, although it
may be justified as a particular way of life, could in no way
appear as standard or ideal.
Finally, this view of history and its consequent spirituality
may be seen as fundamentally in line with the Christian understanding of grace. One must not view God and the human per.son in competition. God works within and guarantees human
autonomy and its ability to transcend itself. From a merely
human point of view, then, the goals of history laid down here
are goals which strictly transcend human capabilities. But
in Aquinas's terms, grace is precisely needed to accomplish that
which transcends the finite and limited powers of human nature.
There can be no correlation between liberation and salvation
unless liberation is seen as the work of grace, for Christians are
all agreed that saving liberation is God's work and not that of
human beings. But if one recalls that grace works through
human freedom and not independent of human response and
action, then there is no need to fear Pelagianism. In the words
of Rahner:
When the basic relationship between God and the world is correctly
viewed, excluding any anthropomorphic " synergism," the action
of God appears as the possibility and dynamism of the action of
the world, which moves in self-transcendence to its fulfillment ....
World history may well be regarded as humanity's self-liberation
from self-alienation. History in this sense takes place in moral action made possible by God's action, as a moment of rightly underof man, given to mankind as its task. 48
stood
ROGER HAIGHT,

Jesuit School of Theology
in Chicago, Illinois

••Karl Rabner," Salvation,'' Sacramentum Mundi, V, p. 487.

s. J.

THE MEDIEVAL QUESTION OF WOMEN
AND ORDERS

T

AKING ITS START from Peter Lombard's Sentences
(c. 1148) ,1 the medieval discussion of the sacrament
of ordination went beyond his text to raise a question whose answer must have seemed so obvious that Lombard felt no need to mention it: whether male sex is a requirement for ordination. Many of the elements necessary to ask
and to answer this question had already been assembled in
Gratian's Decretum (c. 1140) .2 But it is not until the thirteenth century that it achieved either juridical or theological
articulation. 3 The elaboration of the question of women and
orders occurred in the context of the general twelfth century
movement toward systematization in canon law and theology;
its development reflects the pattern of interaction between these
two sciences.4 If the medieval conclusions to this question are
to be used in the present-day discussion of women's ordination, 5
they must be understood in terms of this historical development.
1 Libri 4 Sententiarum (Quaracchi, 1916), vol. 2.
•Ida Raining, The Exclusion of Women From the Priesthood: Divine Law or
Sex Discrimination?, tr. by Norman R. Adams (Metuchen, N. J.: 1976), pp. 7-39,
sets out the major texts in the Decretum that bear on the question of women and
ordination. See also the discussion below.
8 Of the later literature of canon law, the glossa ordinaria of the Decretum and
several decretals and their glosses (particularly the decretal Nova Quaedam) are
important for the statement of the question and will be treated below. In theological literature of the period, the question is raised explicitly for the first time,
as far as I can ascertain, by Bonaventure and, shortly afterwards, by Thomas
Aquinas (see below).
•For the interaction of canon law and theology, see J. de Ghellinck, Le Mouvement theologique de XII• siecle (2nd ed., Brussels, 1969), pp. 52-65, 203-213,
416-510.
•As in the Vatican "Declaration on the Question of the Admission of Women
to the Ministerial Priesthood" (Vatican City: Sacred Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, 1976), no. 1, pp. 5-6.

WOMEN AND ORDERS

583

At the heart of the theological movement of the twelfth and
thirteenth centuries was the injunction of 1 Peter 3: 15-" Always be ready to make a defense to any one who calls you to
account for the hope that is in you." 6 Peter Lombard and his
thirteenth century followers worked in the tension between the
extremes of inarticulate :fideism and overly articulate rationalism. Their arguments and conclusions depended as much on
internal coherence as on the teaching of Scripture or the church.
Not until the fourteenth century was the tension broken with
the rise of a new fideism. The shift in theological perspective
and method from Peter Lombard to Duns Scotus (or William
of Ockham) is reflected in the developing discussion of women
and orders, so that, by the end of the period considered here,
Duns Scotus can attribute the exclusion of women from ordination solely to the will of Christ.
The process that led from Peter Lombard to Duns Scotus requires closer examination. As the various commentators on the
Sentences expanded and refined their treatment of the sacrament of orders, room was made for the eventual posing of the
question about the ordination of women. Once the question
had been raised it could be developed according to the interests
and concerns of the individual commentator. At the same time
as this theological development was taking place, the decretists
and decretalists who commented on the growing body of canon
law influenced the theologians not only in the arrangement
of their subject matter but in the nature of their conclusions.
This was especially the case in regard to the sacraments. 7
What I propose to do here is to trace the development of
the question of women and orders in the Sentence commentaries
of Alexander of Hales,8 Albert the Great, 9 Bonaventure,1°
•de Ghellinck, Mouvement, pp. 279-284.
• Ibid., pp. 449 ff.

• Glossa in Quat:uor Libros Sententiarum Petri Lombardi (Quaracchi, 1957),
vol. 4.
• Commentarii in 4 Sententiarum, in Opera, ed. A. Borgnet (Paris, Vives, 1894),
vol. 20.
1 ° Comnientarium in 4 Libros Sententiarum, in Opera (Quaracchi, 1882), vol.
4. Also De Sacramentis, in Opera Omnia, ed. A. Ohlmeyer (Miinster, 1958), vol. 26.

584

FRANCINE CARDMAN

Thomas Aquinas,11 and Duns Scotus,12 and then relate this
process briefly to the most important advances in canon law
in this period as they bear on the question of women's ordination.
THE SENTENCES AND THE EARLY COMMENTATORS

In Book 4 of the Sentences Peter Lombard considers the
sacraments and the last things. The sacrament of order is
treated under two headings: Dist. 24 on the kinds of ecclesiastical orders and Dist. 25 on the problem of heretical ordinations.
Seven grades of orders are enumerated in Dist. 24 and their
institution is attributed to specific acts of Christ (c. 1-12) .18
Chapters 13-19 tie together the loose ends of episcopal office,
prophet and cantor. Heretical ordinations are the nominal subject of Dist. 25 (c. 1) though major attention is given to the
matter of simony (c. 2-6) , with final references to the age of
the ordinand (c. 7) .
Alexander of Hales (c. 1223-1227) progresses beyond this
arrangement to divide the subject somewhat more analytically.
His commentary on Dist. 24 is straightforward, asking only
what order is and how many orders there are. But in regard
to Dist. 25 he is able to abstract from Lombard's concerns and
pose two questions: who is incapable of receiving major or
minor orders; and what are the causes which disqualify one
for orders? This allows him to reduce the types of irregularity
to disabilities of body, mind (illiteracy, infidelity, schism) and
relationship (a. 1). The latter category is a catch-all which
encompasses "depraved dispositions" of every sort. 14 Simony
11 Oommentum in 4 Librum Sententiarum, in Op&ra Omnia, ed. S. Frette (Paris,
Vives, 1874), vol. 11.
12 In Libri 4 Sententiarum, Dist. 25, q. 2 (Paris, Vives, 1894): Opus Oxoniense,
vol. 19; cf. Reportata Parisiensia, vol. 24.
13 See de Ghellinck, Mouvement, pp. 827-833, for a discussion of Lombard's doctrine of the development of the seven grades of orders and the sources on which
he drew.
14 These are of various sorts:
those dispositions not related to other persons,
e.g., epilepsy; those related to other persons, e. g., in regard to one's carnal father
(illegitimacy), or to one's spiritual father (heretical baptism); all other relational
tranagressions, e. g., murder, simony and the like.

WOMEN AND ORDERS

585

becomes a special case of this last disability. It is noteworthy
that Alexander makes numerous references to the Decretum
and later decretals, though he nowhere mentions the subject of
women and orders.
Commenting on the Sentences in the years Hl41-45,15 Albert
the Great includes under Dist. 24 not only the various aspects
of orders but the question of who may receive this sacrament
(a. 7). The most significant insight is his distinction between
those things which are de necessitate Sacramenti and those
which are de bene esse (art. 7). A further distinction between
the possession of sanctity and the conferral of priesthood (a.
82) is also important. Sanctity confers the likeness of priesthood, Albert argues, but not the priesthood itself. This is in
keeping with a traditional anti-Donatist position (which, in
this period would also be anti-Waldensian or Albigensian), but
it also makes possible the later opinion (Thomas, Duns Scotus)
that orders can validly, though not licitly, be conferred on a
boy who has not yet attained the use of reason-but not on a
woman.16 Dist. 25 follows Alexander's basic arrangement, so
that heretical ordination and simony fall under the heading
of the dispensation (conferral) of the sacrament of order. In
a separate treatise De sacramentis, however, the disposition of
the material about orders differs markedly from the Sentences
commentary. Although there are no notable departures in content, Albert here directs his attention to the character imprinted by the sacrament (considered only briefly in the commentary on Dist. 24, c. 84) and to the power of the keys. 17
Alexander had touched on the subject of binding and loosing
(Dist. 24, a. 10), though Lombard had not mentioned it. Now
Albert gives it detailed treatment. The need for theological
reflection on the power of the keys seems to have been prompted
as much by the canonists' preoccupations with the subject as
15

James A. Weisheipl, 0. P., Friar Thomas D'Aquino: His Life, Thought and

Work (New York, 1974), p. 40.
16

Thomas, In 4 Sent., Dist. 25, q. 2, a. I, quaestiuncula 2. Duns Scotus, ln

4 Sent., Dist. 25, q. 2 (p. UlS).
17

De sacr., tract. 8, q. 4, 5.

586

FRANCINE CARDMAN

by its intrinsic relationship to the theology of orders. The
question of ordination of women does not arise in either the
Sentences commentary or De Sacramentis.

Thomas Aquinas
Credit should probably go to Bonaventure for first raising
the question explicitly in his commentary (1250-54) 18 once the
work of Alexander and Albert had created the categories in
which it could be asked. But because of Thomas Aquinas's association with Albert, his work will be discussed here first, even
though it is slightly later than Bonaventure's chronologically.
Thomas wrote on the Sentences between 1252-1256 in Paris. 19
His division of the material is considerably more complex than
his mentor's. Three questions occur to him in relation to Dist.
24: whether there ought to be order in the church (q. 1); what
the distinctions of order are (q. 2); and other matters related
to orders-tonsure, episcopal power, and vestments (q. 3).
Numerous articles and quaestiunculae accompany each question. Similarly, three questions arise in regard to Dist. 25: on
those who ordain (q.l); on those who are ordained (q. 2); and
on simony (q. 3). With the creation of a category in which to
consider the recipient of ordination, Thomas opens Dist. 25 to
the question of women and orders. Article 1 of question 2 puts
the matter succinctly: " whether the feminine sex is an impediment to the reception of orders." 20
For Thomas, impediments to ordination are of two sorts:
defects. of nature and conditions of external fortune. Female
sex, minority (for boys) and lack of the use of reason are all
defects of the first sort (art. I); slavery, homicide, illegitimacy,
and physical defects are of the second (art. 2). Thomas's argument about the natural defect of women's nature is the reason
for his rejection of the possibility of women's ordination.
18 F. Stegmiiller, Repertorium Commentariorum in Sententias Petri Lombardi
(Wurzburg, 1947), vol. 1, p. 56.
19 Weisheipl, .Thomas, pp. 358-359; but cf. Stegmiiller, Repertorium, p. 393, who
dates this work to 1254-1256.
• 0 Utrum sexus femineus impediat ordinis susceptionem.

WOMEN AND ORDERS

587

Thomas adduces three strong arguments on behalf of the
opinion that female sex is not an impediment to ordination:
(1) prophecy is greater than priesthood, and women have been
prophets; (2) order pertains to some perfection or preeminence,
and women have possessed such praelatio under both the old
covenant (Deborah judging Israel) and the new (the case of
abbesses), demonstrating it particularly in martyrdom and religious life; (3) the power of order pertains to the soul, and the
soul is without sex. In opposition he places two arguments. The
fir.st is directly scriptural-women may not teach in the church
(I Tim. 2: 12 ff.) . The second rests only indirectly on Scripture: the tonsure is required for ordination, even though it is
not of the necessity of the sacrament; but Scripture forbids
women to cut their hair (I Cor. 11). In his solution Thomas
refines Albert's distinction of those things which belong to orders de necessitate and de bene esse. He discriminates instead
between that which is de necessitate sacramenti and that which
is de necessitate praecepti propter congruitatem ad sacramentum. 21 If the former is lacking, there is neither sacramentum
nor res sam-amenti; if the latter is missing, it is possible to receive the sacramentum but not the res sacramenti. On the
basis of this distinction, Thomas concludes that the male sex is
the object of both kinds of necessity in regard to ordination.
Even if a woman should undergo the entire rite of ordination,
Thomas argues, she would not receive the sacrament of orders.
The fundamental defect of woman's nature which makes her
incapable of ordination is her natural state of subjection (quia
mulier statum subjeotionis habet) • Thomas' s interpretation of
references in the Dec retum 22 to diaconissae and presbyterae
was determined by his view that women were by nature incapable of ordination (hence could not have been " ordained "
in the early church) . For him, as for the decretists, diaconissa
could only mean a woman who shares in some act of a deacon
(i. e., reading the homily in church-which an abbess could do) ,
21
2•

Solutio I (pp. 52-53) .
C. 23, q. l, c. 23; Dist. 32, c. 19.

588

FRANCINE CARDMAN

while presbytera signified an older woman, specifically a widow.
Thus possible historical evidence for some sort of ecclesiastical
ordination of women was ruled out of court de facto by Thomas.

Bonaventure
Bonaventure follows much the same organizational scheme
as Thomas and reaches similar conclusions. Dist. 24 is divided
into two parts of two articles each. Part I is concerned with
the sacrament of orders in relation to those things which determine it: the sign of orders and orders in general. Part II deals
with the grades and dignities of orders, first in regard to the
character imprinted and then in regard to number. In Dist. 25
Bonaventure divides his material into articles on the power of
ordaining (a. 1) and on those who are able to receive orders
(a. 2). Simony is subsumed under the latter topic, rather than
being treated separately. The question of women's ordination
seems to fall naturally into place under the topic of the requirements for receiving orders. Art. 2, q. 1 asks whether the male
sex is required for the reception of orders; subsequent questions
deal with the use of reason, single marriage (indivisio carnisi. e., bigamy) , and the condition of freedom.
The requirement of sex is established by Bonaventure's conclusion that neither de iure nor de facto are women able to receive orders. The conclusion is in agreement with Thomas,
though the reasoning process differs in important respects. Unlike Thomas, Bonaventure begins from the " common opinion "
that women ought not to be admitted to holy orders, and he
cites several important texts from the Decretum in support of
this view. In addition to the references to diaconissae and
presbyterae, Bonaventure quotes the prohibition of consecrated
women (nuns) from handling sacred vessels and linen or
censing the altar. 23 He admits that there is some question as
to whether women are even capable of being ordained, but he
resolves his doubts about this by appealing to the " sounder
and more prudent opinion of the doctors" (saniorem opinionem
SS

Dist. !'tS, c. 9t5.

WOMEN AND ORDERS

589

et prudentiorem doctorum) 24 that women's incapacity for ordination is de facto as well as de iure. Only the conclusion to
this argument is quoted by the Vatican Declaration, and that
without any indication of the " probable " status that Bonaventure had attached to it: that women cannot be ordained is, according to Bonaventure, not so much the church's doing as
the result of a natural incapacity which prevents them from
receiving orders.
The process by which Bonaventure arrived at this conclusion
is determined by the problematic laid out at the beginning of
the question. The opinions cited against the necessity of male
sex for the reception of orders closely parallel Thomas's list:
Deborah judged Israel; abbesses have exercised authority; orders are relevant to the soul, not the flesh; and women have exhibited praelatio in martyrdom and religious life. But the
reasons advanced for the necessity of maleness for ordination
depart significantly from Thomas's arguments. (1) There must
be a natural possibility or aptitude for any order-but tonsure
is not possible for women (cf. I Cor. 11). (2) It is necessary
that the person being ordained bear the image of God, " because
in this sacrament the person [homo] in some way becomes God
or divine, since he participates in the divine power" -but it is
the male (vir) who is the image of God by reason of sex (cf. 1
Cor. 11: 7) .25 (3) Spiritual power is conferred in ordinationbut women are not able to receive or exercise such power (cf.
I Tim. 2: 12) . (4) All orders are preparatory for the episcopacy,
and the bishop is the spouse of the church-but women cannot
be husbands, hence neither can they be bishops, so access to
orders is only for men (virorum) . The second and fourth opinions cited for the necessity of male sex for ordination tum the
argument in a different direction from Thomas's presentation.
The inclusion of these arguments among the affirmative opin•• Doctorum most likely refers to the can.onists.
•• ... quia in hoc Sacramento homo quodam modo fit D.eus sive divinus, dum
potestatis divinae fit particeps; sed vir ratione sexus est imago, Dei, sicut dicitur
primae ad Corinthios undecimo ....

590

FRANCINE CARDMAN

ions leads Bonaventure to a more complex position than
Thomas's assertion of women's inferiority due to their state
of subjection. His reasoning is strikingly familiar to the modern
reader: " In this sacrament the person who is ordained signifies
Christ the mediator; both because the mediator was only in the
male sex and because he can be signified by the male sex, the
possibility of receiving orders belongs only to men, who alone
can naturally represent and, in accordance with the reception
of the character, actually bear the sign of him." 26 Bonaventure
argues forcefully, but nevertheless concedes that his conclusion
is only the " more probable " (probabilior) position, though it
can, he claims, be proved by many authorities.
In the commentaries of Thomas and Bonaventure, the discussion of holy orders unfolded at nearly the same time to reveal
a question as to why women could not receive this sacrament.
Within their responses to this question there are di:fferences in
emphasis and treatment of the major negative and affirmative
opinions and in the way objections are resolved. But the fundamental structure of the question of orders is set by them, as
is the answer to the question of women and orders.
John Duns Scotus
In the commentary of John Duns Scotus on the Sentences
(Oxford, c. 1298-1300) ,21 there is little that is new. In fact, the
question of women's ordination seems to have become so commonplace that it is simply combined with the question of the
age necessary for ordination (aetas puerilis) in Dist. 25, q. 2.
The
cited, however, all refer to the impediment of
sex. Although the opinions presented are predictable, the inclusion of canonical arguments at the beginning of the question
rather than in the resolution is somewhat novel. The position

••In hoc enim Sacramento persona, quae ordinatur, significat Christum mediatorem; et quoniam mediator solum in virili sexu fuit et per virilem sexum potest
significari: ideo possibilitas suscipiendi ordines solum viris competit, qui soli possunt
natural,iter repraesentare et secundum characteris suscl!]Jtionem actu signum huius
ferre.
•• Stegmiiller, Repertorium, p.

WOMEN AND ORDERS

591

that sex would not be an impediment to ordination is supported
by Gal. 3 (: 27 ff) -since there is no difference between male
and female in Christ, neither is there any difference between
them in the sacraments of the evangelical law. The Decretum is
also cited as evidence of women who have had ordination: presbyterae (Dist. 32., c. 19) and diaconissae (Dist. 27, q. 1, c. 23).
On the opposing side, however, is Dist. 23, c. 25 of the Decretum,
which forbids women to handle the consecrated vessels and
linens. Scriptural support for the negative opinion is offered
by I Cor. 11, in which women are forbidden to cut their hair,
thus making them unable to receive tonsure. Scotus's resolution
of the problem is a refinement on the solutions of Thomas and
Bonaventure. He distinguishes three ways in which a person
can be excluded from orders: on the basis of not being able
to receive it reverently and properly; not being able to receive
it licitly (in accord with the law, praeceptum); and not being
able to receive it de facto. Women are a case of this third mode
of exclusion.
The de facto inability of women to receive orders is not determined by the church, Scotus argues, but by Christ. It depends
solely on his will, since "the church would not have presumed
to deprive the entire sex of women, without any fault of their
own, of an act which would licitly have been theirs, and which
might have been ordained for the salvation of woman and
others in the church through her .... " 28 It should be noted
that unlike Thomas, Scotus does not locate the incapacity in
woman's nature (neither as it was created nor as it came to be
after the Fall); nor does he place it, as Bonaventure does, in a
natural or physical inability to represent the male Christ.
Rather this incapacity is due solely to the will of Christ, upon
which the church bases its practice. In citing this opinion of
Duns Scotus, the Vatican Declaration omits the last clause
quoted above, as well as the remainder of the sentence; com••Non enim Ecclesia praesumpsisset totum sexum muliebrem privasse sine
culpa sua, actu, qui posset sibi licite competere, qui esset ordinatus ad salutem
mulieris et aliorum in Ecclesia per earn, . . ..

592

FRANCINE CARDMAN

pletion of the sentence makes a substantive difference in interpreting the force and intention of Scotus's argument. For
he goes on to say that apart from the will of Christ, the exclusion of women from orders " would seem to be a very great
injustice, not only to the entire sex, but also to a few specific
persons [paucis person.is]; but now, if by divine law ecclesiastical
order could licitly belong to woman, this would be for their
salvation and the salvation of others through them." 29 Underlying Scotus's argument, therefore, is the presumption that the
ordination of women would have considerable pastoral benefits
which could not rightly be ignored by the church except on the
instruction of Christ. This means that for Duns Scotus the
prohibition of women teaching or holding authority (I Tim.
2) is not just an apostolic opinion but the will of Christ.
On this voluntaristic base Scotus constructs his response to
those arguments that do not find sex an impediment to ordination. His refutation makes use of a number of arguments employed by earlier commentators. He argues that Jesus did not
install his mother in any grade of order in the church, hence
no other woman could receive orders; that natural reason is
in accord with this position, since after the Fall women can have
no degree of eminence in the human race; and that Christ's law
makes no distinction between male and female in the realm of
grace and glory, but quite properly does make such distinctions
in regard to the degrees of excellence held in the church. 80 The
treatment of legal sources accords with the interpretations
offered by Thomas and Bonaventure: presbytera refers to the
wife of a priest among the Greeks, or among the Latins, a
widow, and may also indicate the position of authority exercised by an abbess among her nuns; diaconissa may also refer
to an abbess or to anyone who reads the homily during matins. 81
•• . . . quia hoc esse videretur maxima injustitia, non solum in toto sexu, sed
etiam in paucis personis; nunc autem si de lege divina licite posset competere
mulieri ordo Ecclesiasticus, posset esse ad salutem et carum et aliorum Pill:
80 In 4 Sent., p. 140.
• 1 Ibid., p. 141.

WOMEN AND ORDERS

593

No question of orders is involved in the case of either the presbytera or diaconissa.
Theology and Canon Law
The development of medieval theological consideration of
the question of women and orders was the result of a three-fold
process. The process began by an opening out of the discussion of holy orders so that room was made for the question of
women's ordination to arise. Once the question was asked explicitly, it underwent a development and shift in emphasis,
though several constants remained throughout the various
treatments of the question. The third and as yet unaccountedfor aspect of this process was the influence of developments in
canon law. These are of considerable importance in understanding the evolution of medieval thought on the subject of
women and orders. For aside from the internal logic of the commentaries themselves, there were other forces which worked to
move Bonaventure to raise a previously unasked theological
question: what was the reason for the church's practice of
ordaining only men?
Not the least among the external forces that led to the asking
of this question was the continued development of canon law
after the widespread acceptance of Gratian's Decretum. Already
within that collection were numerous texts with definite, though
not always articulated, implications for the status of women
in the church and the possibility of their ordination. Some
of these have been touched on in the examination of the Sentences commentaries; here I list only the most important documents.82 Dist. 23, c. 25 prohibits women from touching consecrated vessels and linens and from censing the altar; c. 29
of the same distinction prohibits women, however learned and
holy, from teaching men. 33 Dist. 32, c. 19 mentions women
82 See Raming, Exclusion, pp. 7-39, for analysis of these materials.
•• Mulier, quamvis docta et sancta, viros in conventu docere non presumat.
Laicus autem presentibus clericis (nisi ipsis rogantibus) docere non audeat. Corpus
Juris Canonici, ed. A. Friedberg (Graz, 1959), vol. 1, col. 86.

594

FRANCINE CARDMAN

who were called presbyterae among the Greeks. 34 Similarly,
C. 27, q. 1, c. 23 contains a reference to diaconissae, anathematizing those who marry after receiving ordination. 35 The exclusion of women :from the sacred sphere of liturgical objects and
practices is the subject of several chapters in the book De
consecratione. Dist. I, de cons., c. 41-42 permits only consecrated
(i.e., ordained) men to handle consecrated vessels and vestments.86 Dist. 2, de cons., c. 29 forbids the practice of women
taking communion to the sick.37 And Dist. 4, de cons., c. 20
prohibits women from teaching or baptizing. 38
As the influence of the Decretum spread, these points of
canon law gained a certain amount of familiarity among educated churchmen, theologians and canonists alike. Raming
3 • Mulieres que apud Graecos presbiterae appellantur, apud nos autem viduae,
ooniores, univirae et matricuriae appellantur, in ecclesia tanquam ordinatas constitui
non debere. Friedberg, Corpus, vol. 1, col. Ut2.
85 Diaconissam non debere ante annos quadraginta
ordinari statuimus, et hoc
cum diligenti probatione. Si vero susceperit ordinationem, et quantocumque tempore
observaverit ministerium, et postea se nuptiis tradiderit, iniuriam faciens gratiae
Dei, hec anathema sit cum eo, qui in illius nuptiis convenerit. Friedberg, Corpus,
vol 1, col. 1055.
86 C. 41: In sancta apostolica sede statutum est, ut sacra vasa non ab aliis, quam
a sacratis Dominoque dicatis contrectentur hominibus. Ne pro talibus presumptionibus iratus Dominus plagam inponat populo suo, et hi etiam, qui non peccaverunt, pereant, quia perit iustus sepissime pro inpio.
C. 42: Vestimcnta ecclesiae, quibus Domino ministratur, et sacrata debent ease
et honesta, quibus in aliis usibus non debent frui, quam ecclesiasticis et Deo
dignis offitiis; que nee ab aliis debent contingi aut offerri, nisi a sacratis hominibus,
ne ultio, que Baltasar regem percussit, super hoc transgredientes veniat, et corruere
eos faciat ad ima.
Both in Friedberg, Corpus, vol. 1, cols. 1304-1305.
87 Pervenit ad notitiam nostram, quod quidam presbiteri in tantum parvipendant
divina misteria, ut laico aut feminae sacrum corpus Domini tradant ad deferendum
infirmis, et quibus prohibetur, ne sacrarium ingrediantur, nee ad altare appropinquent, illis sancta sanctorum committuntur. Quod quam sit horribile
quamque detestabile, omnium religiosorum animadvertit prudentia. Igitur interdicit
per omnia sinodus, ne talis temeraria presumptio ulterius fiat; sed omnimodis
presbiter per semetipsum infirmum communicet. Quod si aliter fecerit, gradus sui
periculo subiacebit. Friedberg, Corpus, vol. 1, cols. 1323-1824.
88 Mulier, quamvis docta et sancta, baptizare aliquos vel vires docere in conventu,
non presumat. [Ex Concilio Cartagiensi V.] Gratian: Nisi necessitate cogente.
Friedberg, Corpus, vol. 1, col. 1367.

WOMEN AND ORDERS

595

gives a detailed analysis of the relevant texts and the history
of their interpretation. 89 Rather than repeat her discussion of
this material on the work of the decretists and later the
decretalists, I want simply to single out the most crucial advances in each of these areas.
Commentators on the Decretum appeared in rapid succession
and glossed most of the loci that bear on the question of women
and ordination. Among the glossators, Johannes Teutonicus
exercised considerable influence. Writing between 1212-1215,
he assimilated into his commentary the work of earlier glossators as well as the decretals of Innocent III. Published after
the IV Lateran council and finally revised by Bartholomew
of Brescia in 1240-45, the commentary of Johannes Teutonicus
quickly became the glossa ordinaria to the Decretum. 40 The
discussion of C. 27, q. 1, c. 23 (on deaconesses) therefore achieved
a currency far beyond mere individual opinion. Johannes
Teutonicus used the earlier gloss of Huguccio almost verbatim
in explaining why women were incapable of ordination: " I
respond that women do not receive the character (of order)
because of the impediment of their sex and the constitution of
the church." 41 This opinion is new to decretist literature with
Huguccio and Teutonicus. 42 Its influence can be felt in the
developing theological opinion of the Sentences commentaries.
The Decretum had legitimated papal legislative authority
and in its aftermath came a multiplication of papal decretals.
Gregory IX commissioned Raymond of Pefiaforte, 0. P., a
canonist and his personal chaplain, to make a systematic compilation of these decretals, which was published in 1234 as the
Compilatio Nova (or Liber Extra). The two most important
89 Raming, Exdusion, pp. 44-69 (on the Decretum) and pp. 78-93 (on the
decretalists) .
•• J. F. von Schulte, Die Geschichte der Quelfon und Literatur des. Canonischen
Rechts (Stuttgart, 1875), vol. 1, pp. 172-174. Also Raming, Exclusion, p. 65.
" Respondeo, quod mulieres non recipiunt characterem impedimente sexu, et
constitutione ecclesiae. Glossa Ordinaria as found in the edition Decretales D.
(Rome, 1552) .
Gregorii Papae IX suae lntegritati: una cum glossis.
• 2 Raming, Exclusion, p. 62.

596

FRANCINE CARDMAN

decretals are Nova Quaedam (Innocent III, !QlO) , which prohibits abbesses from giving a blessing to their nuns, hearing
confessions, reading the Gospel, or preaching in public, 43 and
Dilecta (Honorius III, rn22), which deals with the kind of
jurisdiction exercised by abbesses. 44 The inevitable glosses followed on these and other decretals in the collection, until
Bernard of Parma's commentary (c. IQ45) became the glossa
ordinaria on Gregory IX's collection. Bernard's gloss on Nova
Quaedam extends the range of liturgical functions prohibited
to women: once, perhaps, women could read the gospel at
matins, and for this reason were called diaconissa; but not only
can they not teach or preach, they cannot touch sacred vessels;
neither can they veil their nuns or absolve them; and they cannot exercise judgment, except perhaps, according to custom,
those among them who were of the nobility. Bernard concludes: " in general, the office of a man is forbidden to
women." 45
An independent but nevertheless influential commentator,
Henricus Segusia (Hostiensis) offered a .similar explanation in
his Summa Super Tituli Decretalium (Summa Aurea) c. 1250IQ53.46 "But in addition to the above mentioned regulations,"
•• Nova quaedam nuper, de quibus miramur non modicum, nostris sunt auribus
intimata, quod abatissae videlicet in Burgensi et in Pcdentinensi diocesibus constitutae, moniales proprias benedicunt, ipsarum quoque confessiones in criminibus
audiunt, et legentes evangelium praesumunt publice praedicare. . . .
of Gregory IX, in Friedberg, Corpus, vol. 2, Lib. 5, tit. 88, De Poenitent. c. 10, cols.
886-887 See also Raming, Exclusion, pp 70-74.
.. Dilecta in Christo filia abbatissa de Bubrigen, transmissa nobis petitione
monstravit, quod, quum ipsa plerumque canonicas suas et clericos suae iurisdictioni
subiectos propter inoebedientias et culpas eorum officio beneficioque suspendat iidem confisi ex eo, quod eadem abbatissa excommunicare eos non potest, suspensionem huiusmodi non observant, propter quod ipsorum excessus remanent incorrecti. Quocirca discretioni tuae mandamus, quatenus dictas canonicas et clericos,
ut abbatissae praefatae obedientiam et reverentiam debitam impendentes, eius
salubria monita et mandata observent, monitione praemissa ecclesiastica ccnsura
appellatione remota compellas. Friedberg, Corpus, vol. 2, col. 201. See Raming,
Exclusion, pp. 75-78; and for the commentators on both texts, pp. 78-98.
•• . . . et generaliter viri officium mulieribus est interdictum. Decretales, col.
1870. Raming, Exclusion, pp 81-82.
••Schulte, Geschichte, pp. 128 ff. Raming, Exclusion, p. 88.

WOMEN AND ORDERS

597

he writes, "sex is also a requirement (for ordination) : for
orders are not conferred on a woman (mulieri) but on a man
(homini), as Ambrose [Ambrosiaster] commented on Timothy
(I Tim. 3: 11) ... for they ought not to be tonsured, nor may
the hair of a woman be cut ... nor can they exercise the power
of the keys ... nor even ought they serve at the altar ... although they may read the Gospel at matins" 47 The gloss of
Hostiensis is a further instance of the interaction between canon
law and theology in regard to women and orders.
Although direct contacts cannot be demonstrated between
the canonists and theologians of the thirteenth century as the
question of ordination of women developed, the similarity of
arguments, the reliance on specific canonical texts, and the importance of the friars in the schools of both canon law and
theology all argue for a common universe of discourse in which
this question was considered. To judge from the general interpenetration of theology and canon law in the systematization of each discipline, it is reasonable to expect that the dialogue between the two would easily extend to a subject that
was relevant to both. 48

Conclusion
Medieval reflection on the question of women and ordination
did not develop in a straightforward manner, and, while there
was general agreement that women were incapable of ordination, the theological justifications of this opinion varied greatly.
The Sentences commentators were far from being of one mind
on the subject. When the question was first raised in theological
discussion, Bonaventure clearly acknowledged the uncertainty
" Sed et praeter regulas supradictas requiritur sexus: nee enim mulieri, sed
homini sunt ordines conferendi, sicut dicit Ambrosius ad Timotheum ... quia nee
tonsurari debent . . . nee mulieris coma amputanda est . . . nee potest potestatem
clavium exercere ... nee etiam ad altare servire debet . . . potest tamen evangelium
dicere ad matutinam. Summa Aurea, col. 188, as quoted in Raming, Exclusion, pp.
211-!Wl (note 90 to p. 83) .
••For a similar process in an earlier period, see de Ghellinck, Mouvement, pp.
537-547 (on Hugh of St. Victor and the "species quadriformis sacramentorum"
in the canonists and theologians).

598

FRANCINE CARDMAN

of his conclusion that neither de facto nor de iure were women
able to be ordained. He did, however, attempt to bolster his
opinion by labeling it the " more prudent " view, one which
enjoyed the support of many saintly authorities. When Thomas
Aquinas addressed himself to the topic a few years later, he
did not doubt the certainty of his conclusions, but he based
them on arguments that differed greatly from Bonaventure'snamely, the incongruity between woman's natural state of subjection and the degree of eminence signified by the sacrament
of orders. Finally, when Duns Scotus came to consider the
question of sex as an impediment to ordination, he removed
the discussion almost entirely from the realm of reasoned discourse by appealing solely to the will of Christ as the basis of
women's exclusion from ordination.
In its appeal to the conclusions of medieval treatments of
the question of women and orders, the Vatican " Declaration
on the Question of the Admission of Women to the Ministerial
Priesthood " ignores both the historical development and the
textual and theological context of the opinions which it cites.
In so doing, the Declaration makes the medieval discussion appear far more uniform than it in fact was, and gives to medieval opinion a degree of authority which, for the most part,
it did not claim for itself. The views of Thomas Aquinas are
passed over in silence by the Declaration, presumably because
his arguments are among those medieval opinions which
" modern thought would ... rightly reject." 49 By rejecting the
most forcefuly articulated medieval position against the ordination of women, the Declaration is compelled to fall back on
the opinions of Bonaventure and Duns Scotus. It is therefore
crucial in evaluating the weight of the medieval evidence to
know that Bonaventure regarded his conclusion as pobabilior,
sanior, and prudentior. Yet the Declaration gives no indication
of Bonaventure's own reservations. Further, the Declaration
quotes but a fragment of a long and complex sentence from
Duns Scotus, citing only his appeal to the will of Christ as the
•• Declaration, no. 1 (p. 6).

WOMEN AND ORDERS

599

reason why women cannot be ordained, and ignoring completely Scotus's stress on the pastoral good that could have
come to the church from the ordination of women. By wrenching his conclusion out of context, the Declaration misrepresents
the nature of Duns Scotus's opposition to the ordination of
women.
Finally, in failing to take account of the influence of established liturgical practice on the development of canon law, and
neglecting as well the interaction of medieval canon law and
theology (especially as represented in the Sentences commentaries), the Declaration regards theological opinion and doctrinal development in a vacuum. Taken in isolation from the
disciplinary developments which occasion them and which they
in tum legitimate and reinforce, such theological opinions are
given a certain timeless status in the Declaration and a degree
of authority that is warranted neither by the intention of their
authors nor by the logic of historical argument.
FRANCINE CARDMAN

Wesley Theological Seminary
Washington, D. C.

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ERTAIN PHILOSOPHERS OF religion would decribe themselves as religious skeptics. A number believe, indeed, that their orientation should be shared
by all. Other philosophers of religion think that religious skepticism is impossible; or at any rate that it is, and should be
seen by all to be, an inappropriate stance to adopt. In this
paper I wish to set out an approach of my own to the possibilities of religious skepticism. My discussion will focus on
states of doubt that arise in relation to the Biblical tradition. 1
And I will say at the outset that I have come to regard the matter as more complex than either of the aforementioned groups
would suggest.

I.

PRELIMINARY

DISCUSSION

Opposing Viewpoints on Religious Skepticism. Let us begin by
considering a sampling of remarks made by representatives of
the two opposing viewpoints. A leading representative of the
former is Kai Nielsen. Nielsen suggests that even " believers
characteristically have doubts; even the man in 'the circle of
faith' is threatened with disbelief." 2 And the difficulties which
1 This study arises from a background in Christianity, and from reflection on
states of doubt in relation to it. I would emphasize, accordingly, that the account
I shall offer is thus restricted in its intended scope.
The present paper might usefully be read in conjunction with a companion
piece, "Understanding and Agreement in Religion," The Modern Schoolman, 55
(1978). That study includes, in particular, a fuller discussion of the notion of
"faith awareness," introduced in section II below. I would hope, however, that
my suggestions about religious skepticism will be found to be well supported by
the present analyses, together with the further research herein envisioned.
• Kai Nielsen, " In Defense of Atheism," reprinted in Norbert 0. Schedler, ed.,
Philosophy of Religion (New York: Macmillan, 1974), p.

600

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arise in this context are by no means idle ones: " some come
to reject a religious orientation altogether because of such considerations." 3 The considerations in question, whether they
originate within or without the circle of faith, take a number of
different forms. Thus there can be said to be " varieties of religious scepticism." 4 But it can in general be remarked concerning the orientation of skeptics that it involves " a rejection
of religion 'because they find Christianity unpersuasive, incredible.' " 5 And well they might, according to Nielsen. For
when fully elaborated the difficulties which even many believers
feel become general and powerful critiques of religious faith. In
relation to the major Western traditions, at any rate, it must
be said that " religious belief or commitment is not even reasonable, let alone justified.'' 6 Again, it is possible to produce
certain arguments-arguments of relevance to all-which " show
why we should be sceptics.'' 7
On the other side of the picture we find philosophers who
question the viability of a skeptical orientation. A leading
spokesman for this group is D. Z. Phillips. Phillips recognizes
the possibility of religious rebellion, in which one comes to " reject and defy" one's tradition and its God.8 He also notes that
it happens that "a person cannot bring himself to react in a
certain way; he has no use for a certain [religious] picture of the
situation." 9 Beyond cases of these sorts, however, the doubts
Kai Nielsen, Scepticism (London: Macmillan, 1973), p. 3.
• Ibid., p. 4.
5 Ibid., p. 5. The contained quotation is from Ninian Smart, Philosophers and
Religious Truth (New York: Macmillan, 1970), p. 9.
•Kai Nielsen, Contemporary Critiques of Religion (New York: Herder and
Herder, 1971), p. 136.
7 Nielsen, Scepticism, p. 9. Among various other philosophers who express some
form of religious skepticism the following might in particular be mentioned:
Antony Flew, Ronald Hepburn, and Alasdair Macintyre. See, for example, Flew's
God and Philosophy (London: Hutchinson, 1966); Hepburn's Christianity and
Paradox (New York: Pegasus, 1968); and Maclntyre's portion of The Religious
Significance of Atheism (New York: Columbia, 1969).
8 D. Z. Phillips, Faith and Philosophical Enquiry (New York:
Schocken, 1971),
8

p. 31.

• Ibid., p. 100.

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JOHN CARLSON

which people-and especially philosophers-express are more
questionable in nature and origin. A proper analysis of these
doubts results in negative light being cast on certain features
of the people's own thinking. Very often, for example, an individual's difficulty with religious proposals stems from some
"craving for generality "-some tendency to assimilate in an
illegitimate way these proposals with certain other.s.10 In any
event, according to Phillips, it is possible to " refute scepticism
about ... religion." 11 Alternatively it can be said that if a person has a correct grasp of relevant matters " his understanding
of religion is incompatible with scepticism." 12
General, Characterizations and Distinctions. The general views
here sketched are developed at length by the writers we have
referred to, among others. And we might, I think, feel some
initial attraction to points which are expressed by them both.
But we might also feel a certain unclarity about the issue, at
least as it emerges from the above remarks. For the notions
employed-doubt, personal inability, rejection of an orientation,
skepticism-tend to be somewhat hazy in general, let alone in
application to religious phenomena. We might do well, accordingly, to approach our investigation by making some initial
characterizations and distinctions.
Taking up the concept of doubting, first of all, I would offer
Ibid., p. 68. See also, for example, p. 72.
Ibid., p. 201.
12 Ibid., p. 88. See also Phillips's books The Concept of Prayer (London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1965) and Religion Without Explanation (Oxford: Basil
Blackwell, 1976) . Three other writers whose essays indicate that they might
properly be grouped with Phillips on this matter are Paul L. Holmer, Norman
Malcolm, and Harry A. Nielsen. See, for example, Holmer's "Atheism and Theism:
A Comment on an Academic Prejudice," Lutheran World, 18 (1966); Malcolm's
" Is it a Religious Belief that ' God Exists ' ?" in John Hick, ed., Faith and the
Phifoaophera (London: Macmillan, 1964); and Nielsen's " Kierkegaard's Metaphysical Crotchet," Proceedi'ngsof the American Catholic Philosophical Association,
46 (1972) . I wish to make clear that I am not suggesting, in relation to either
of the two groups of philosophers, that there would be internal agreement on all
points of significance.
11

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the following general characterization. An individual will be
aaid to be in a state of doubt with regard to a set of proposals
if he finds that in relating himself to those proposals his thinking
is dominated by a difficulty or difficulties-difficulties of a sort
that could be expressed in terms of considerations going against
them. I would point out that what is being offered here is an
account of our concept of a particular state. In connection with
this account we can come to mark a number of important distinctions. Thus a state of doubt, as I shall speak of it, is different from one in which the person involved simply fails to arrive at any orientation, and also from one in which the person
involved simply rejects the proposals at hand. (However, both
a state of uncertain-by because of consideTati.ons against and a
state of rejection or denicil because of considerations against can,
for purposes of the pre.sent discussion, be regarded as types of
states of doubt. We might think of them as minimal and maximal
types of such states in terms of their degree of intensity.) We
should also distinguish between being in a state of doubt and
being merely to some degree troubl.ed by doubt-an experience
that can befall even those who embrace a set of proposals. It
must be added, however, that while we can draw these various
lines in the abstract, it is not always clear, at the level of the
concrete, how a particular case is to be described.
Sometimes it can be said that the occurrence of a state of
doubt reflects negatively on the individual's own thinking. For
sometimes the process of communicating a set of proposals is
direct and public in character, involving on the part of everyone
concerned only procedures which are straightforward and open
to general assessment. In cases of this sort the process can be
said to be certain in its proper results. And in some cases of
this sort the results are such as to preclude a person's thinking
being dominated by a particular difficulty. To the extent that
this is found to hold, but only to the extent that this is found
to hold, a judgment will be in order that in principle no one
should be in the state of doubt in question. A judgment will be
in order, that is, that if anyone possesses the required human

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JOHN CARLSON

capacity, and receives a full exposure to the proposals, he can
and should avoid the state. 18
Sometimes too, however, reflection on one person's state of
doubt gives rise to a strong judgment concerning others. To
the extent that the consideration a doubter expresses is of general and public relevance there arises, as we might put it, a
prima facie argument that others should share his state. Of
course, in a case of this sort another possibility also arises-the
possibility that whatever the consideration's perceived force
for the individual, it can by others be seen to reveal a misapprehension or mistake, rather than to indicate a genuine problem with the proposals. On the other hand, to the extent that
the consideration a doubter expresses is individual and private
in its significance the possibility just mentioned will not arise;
but then the occurrence of his state will not have a tendency
to argue that others should come to share it. The implication
that others should come to share a state of doubt will emerge
to the extent that, but only to the extent that, two conditions
are jointly fulfilled: first, that the consideration expressed is of
general and public relevance; and second, that the consideration
indicates a genuine problem with the proposals.
In connection with these points we might distinguish two
senses of the term "skepticism." These I shall call the "weak
sense" and the "strong sense," respectively. "Skepticism" in
the weak sense will apply to any state of doubt, regardless of
the individual's views about implications concerning others.
" Skepticism " in the strong sense will apply only to a state of
doubt in which the individual thinks that a strong implication
emerges-a strong implication, that is, that others should share
18 I would emphasize that while I shall sometimes speak, as I have just above,
of states of doubt " reflect (ing) negatively" on people's thinking, there is not
here any question of a negative reflection on the people themselves. For an individual may, for example, fail to possess the required human capacity; or-more
likely in the present context-fail to receive a full exposure to the proposals.
Similarly, when I come to speak of certain skeptical orientations as being "inappropriate," I shall be using the term absolutely, rather than as implying any
judgment concerning individuals.

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605

his state. Orientations of the former sort might be appropriate
to the extent that judgments are not in order that in principle
no one should be in the states in question, and accordingly to the
extent that the related processes of communication do not yield
results of certainty which would preclude a person's thinking
being dominated by the difficulties. Orientations of the latter
sort will be appropriate to the extent that the implications
mentioned above do in fact emerge, and accordingly to the extent that the two associated conditions are jointly and strongly
fulfilled.
Let us now seek to apply these general points to difficulties
which arise vis-a-vis Christianity.

II.

STATES OF DOUBT IN RELATION TO CHRISTIAN TEACHINGS:
AN INVESTIGATION

OF CASES FROM FIVE CATEGORIES

Clearly a great many difficulties are expressed concerning
Biblical religion. They are not, however, entirely without common features. Rather they might-at least for purposes of our
inquiry-be grouped into certain general categories. Thus,
while we could not consider every type of case which would be
relevant to our concerns, we might, by investigating an example
from each category, achieve the broad outlines of a " perspicuous
representation." 14 I shall begin the present section by expressing a perspective on the grouping of religious doubts. Then
I shall undertake an examination of cases from the various
categories that might be marked off. Finally I shall note some
complexities to be encountered at the level of the concrete and
particular.
General Perspective. My approach to the grouping of doubts
in this area involves relating them to the state enjoyed by believers-or, more accurately, to the state those seeking to communicate the Scriptural mesage hope will come about. I call
u The term " perspicuous representation " is from Wittgenstein. I hope he would
approve of the use I make of it in this paper. See Ludwig Wittgenstein, Philosophical Investigations, tr. by G. E. M. Anscombe, 3rd ed. (New York: Macmillan,
1968) Part I, sec. 122.

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JOHN CARLSON

the state in question the state of " awareness adequate to faith,"
or " faith awareness " for short. By way of characterizing this
state we might say that an individual will be said to enjoy it
when, and insofar as, he perceives what is proposed to him as
a life of faith-a particular complex of affirmation and relationship and activity-in such a manner as to feel called to
make the deepest and most definite personal response. (Such
an individual will, accordingly, view his actual faith or non-faith
in terms of his response to the life-possibility thus perceived.)
Although a characterization of this sort is very general, it seems
clear that many persons who have encountered the Scriptural
message fail to enjoy a state of faith awareness. It also seems
clear that insofar as a person's state departs from the one in
question, he may find that his thinking in relation to the religious proposals is dominated by a difficulty or difficultiesdifficulties of a sort that could be expressed in terms of considerations going against them. He may, that is, be in a state
of doubt. Reflection on this and other points can give rise to
the following suggestion: that the categories of doubt that
might be marked off vis-a-vis Biblical religion correspond to
an internal complexity in the state of awareness adequate to
faith; and that each category might thus be characterized as
representing a departure from this state along a certain determinate line. In light of research to date I believe that this suggestion is borne out through a consideration of the relevant
phenomena.

Investigation of Cases. The specific view I have come to adopt
is that we might appropriately mark off five categories of religious doubt, with each category corresponding in the way
indicated above to what we might call an aspect of faith awarenes.s.15 We proceed, accordingly, to an investigation of five
15 For fuller discussions of the aspects of faith awareness see " Understanding
and Agreement in Religion." I would mention at this point that my five-fold
scheme for categorizing religious doubts, and my distinguishing of five aspects of
faith awareness, have arisen from a common body of research; and that reflection
on each topic has helped to clarify my thinking in relation to the other. I would

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607

selected cases. In light of the concerns of our study let us
pursue in each instance the following two lines of inquiry: (a)
Would a judgment be in order that in principle no one should
be dominated by the present difficulty? (b) Does a strong
implication emerge that others should come to share a difficulty
of this sort? If we can achieve satisfactory answers to questions
such as these in connection with the range of doubts we take
up, we will be in position to resolve-at least tentatively-the
general issue of the possibilities of religious skepticism.

*

Case (1)
" People speak about the ' Christian message.' But in fact
this tradition's ideas seem to have become altogether amorphous in our day. I find nothing proclaimed any longer
which is sufficientlydefined or articulated to make a genuine
impression.''

(a) The present difficulty relates to features of the religious
proclamation. However, the proclamation's actual features are
other than they are here taken to be. For there is in fact available in our day, as in the Biblical period itself, an articulated
religious message: a message, in brief, of the threefold presence
of God to the world-as Father, Son, and Spirit-and of the
risks and opportunities which arise for mankind in connection
with the threefold divine presence. It is true, of course, that
there have been various efforts, during the long history of this
tradition, to produce developments in the formulation of its
message; but the primary aim of such efforts, at least among
the orthodox, has been to bring into full prominence and availability the message's essential elements. And the community of
believers, albeit sometimes only with time and effort, maintains
a sense of what elements are essential. Any person of faith
awareness has, according to one formulation or another, a grasp
add that while I indeed find my approach a natural one, and one which serves
well our inquiry's purposes, I would not wish to claim that no alternative schemes
of categorization could be appropriate. For other cases which I would group with
those to be examined in the present study see note 19 below.

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JOHN CARLSON

of the elements in question. The person at (1) manifests by
his remarks that he does not. Thus his state of doubt, and
others which can be grouped with it, might be said to belong
to the following category: ones which represent an inadequate
familiarity with the essential elements of the Christian proclamation.
In leading people to an adequate familiarity along this line
religious teachers need only undertake a suitable form of written
or oral exposition. And those being instructed need only exercise in an appropriate way an ability to read or listen. The
present communication process is clearly quite direct and public
in character. Accordingly it can be said to be quite certain in
its proper results. Further, these results are such as to preclude
a person's thinking being dominated by the present difficulty.
Accordingly the judgment would very strongly be in order that
in principle no one should be dominated by it.
(b) Turning to the question of implications concerning
others, we might note that the consideration at (1) is highly
general and public in its relevance. The Christian tradition indeed presents itself as offering a message of salvation, something
it could hardly do if its ideas were altogether amorphous. Further, if its ideas were of this character they would be of this
character for all; and all would be able to come to see that
they were deficient in this respect. Clearly, however, while
the present consideration has great force for the individual it
does not indicate a genuine problem with the religious proposals.
Even with efforts at producing new formulations of the traditional message, this message is not lacking in definition.
Therefore reflection on this state of doubt fails to give rise to
a strong judgment that others should come to share it.
Case (fJ)
"I'm acquainted with Biblical teachings. But there seems
to be nothing like proper evidence in support of them. Most
believers are rather unconcerned about matters of fact in
relation to their religious ideas; and those who are thus concerned point to things which are totally inadequate to the
purpose. In light of this must it not seem a rather inco-

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herent proposal to speak of seriously entertaining
teachings in question? "

609
the

(a) This difficulty pertains to a point of "logic" or "grammar." However, one who expresses it does not have a correct
view as to the type of point that is here relevant. Questions
of evidence properly arise in connection with ideas rooted in
an interest in how things are, or have been, or are likely to
be. But the primary roots of the present religious ideas are
rather different. These ideas, as expressions of momentous
themes and promises, arise from and relate to concerns about
how things might ultimately be regarded; and also about how
things, in the first instance oneself, might ultimately come to
fulfillment. And while matters of fact are indeed relevant in
the embracing of this tradition-Christianity could not be what
it claims to be if, for example, certain beliefs about the life and
preaching of Jesus should turn out to be false-the function
of an interest in the relevant facts is simply to provide an adequate context in which the religious teachings might, in their
own proper way, be entertained. An understanding, at least
tacit, of these and related points forms a second aspect of an
awareness adequate to faith. The state of doubt expressed at
(2) reveals a falling short along this line. Thus this and associated states of doubt might be characterized as follows: they
involve an incorrect grasp of Biblical ideas' roots and connections in life and thought, and thus of their logic or grammar.
In helping an individual come to achieve a correct grasp of
these matters, there is required of the instructor only appropriate types of explanation and correction. And there is required of the individual himself only an adequate exercise of
insight into the various points that are made. The procedures
here involved are at least rather straightforward, and also open
to general assessment. The process of communication can thus
be termed rather certain in its proper results. And the results
in question would be such as to keep a person from being
dominated by a difficulty in this category. Thus it could rather
strongly be said that the occurrence of such a difficulty reflects
negatively on the individual's own thinking.

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JOHN CARLl!!ON

(b) With regard to our other line of inquiry, it .should be
said that the first condition for an implication concerning others
is at least rather strongly fulfilled. Biblical religion proposes
to go beyond and complete, not to conflict with, natural human
structures of thought. But presumably anyone would find it
a " rather incoherent proposal " to speak of seriously entertaining a set of teachings in the absence of proper supporting
evidence-if the teachings are such that demands for supporting
evidence are appropriate. And presumably anyone would regard efforts at establishing certain facts, for example, about
the life and preaching of Jesus, as "totally inadequate to the
purpose "-if the purpose is to provide an evidential basis for
the affirmation of religious themes and promises. Here, therefore, there is a considerable tendency toward arguing that
others should share the difficulty. On the other hand it must
be said that the second condition is at be.st fulfilled only rather
weakly. As the above discussion brings out, the present consideration suggests a fundamental misapprehension or mistake.
The difficulty here expressed would indeed have great force in
connection with certain proposals, but not in connection with
the central proposals of this religious tradition. Thus we find
again at (2) that there emerges no strong implication concerning others.
Case (3)
" To me the very notion of a sphere beyond the natural
has an aura of unreality about it. What status does such
a notion have within a contemporary framework of thought?
I sometimes have the feeling in listening to Christians that
I'm listening to people from a totally different culture. And
in this I'm surely not alone."

(a)' To approach a characterization of the present difficulty,
let us focus on the expression " a contemporary framework of
thought." This phrase might be taken to include a reference
to concepts, suppositions, beliefs, theories, practical principles,
and the like. Now adherents of the present tradition are not
unwilling to discu!s the .status of their message for contemporary

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611

thought. Nor are they insensitive to the various difficulties
which arise along this line. Still they maintain a perception, or
a supposition, that the essential teachings of their religion can
be at home with any proper framework that is developed. 16
Statement (3) clearly indicates, with reference to the concept
of transcendence, a failure to share this aspect of faith awareness. Thus the present state of doubt, and others which can
be related to it, might he .said to belong to the following category: doubts which manifest a lack of supposing that the essential teachings of Christianity can fit in with a viable framework of thought.
In reflecting on the question of whether a judgment would
be in order that in principle no one should be dominated by
such difficulties we should notice that a framework of thought,
as explicated above, comprises a variety of elements. Accordingly we find that a variety of processes may be involved in a
person's coming to enjoy the type of awareness believers intend.
In connection with certain elements-for example, a common
supposition about the sort of mes.sage preached by Jesus-the
procedures can be fairly straightforward, and also open to general assessment. For here there is required only a presenting
and acknowledging of recent scholarship, educated opinion, and
so on. In connection with other elements-for example, the
supposition that there might be a single highest path to human
fulfillment-the procedures will be relatively less straightforward, and also less open to general assessment. For here there
may be required the .suggesting and concurring with various
types of dialectical or more personal consideration. Still other
elements will fall in between. The element at issue in case (3)
itself can perhaps be viewed in this way. Sometimes a perception of the viability of the concept of transcendence seems
to arise or take hold rather naturally. But sometimes again
1 • This point should not be taken to deny that believers may come to feel the
need-sometimes
as a result of encountering difficulties raised by others-for
a certain refinement of their teachings; or even for a certain reorganization of perception with regard to the essential and the inessential.

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JOHN CARLSON

it does not. When it does not those seeking to communicate
the religious teachings might undertake more explicit effortsfor example, some species, formal or informal, of metaphysical
analysis and argumentation. The process thus initiated would
seem to have some claim to being direct and public in character,
due to the fact that broad criteria of rationality and empirical
adequacy can be employed in metaphysical discussions. There
seems, however, to enter into the acceptance of any ultimate
account a personal dimension of at least some significance. Thus
the claim in question would not here be as strong as in connection with certain other elements.17
In connection with each element of the present aspect the
results intended by believers would indeed preclude a corresponding difficulty. We find, however, some diver:sity in the
extent to which these results can be termed certain. Accordingly in certain cases the statement could somewhat strongly be
made that if a person possesses the relevant capacity, and
receives a full exposure to Christian teachings, he can and
should avoid the state of doubt. In other cases, however, any
statement along this line would appear to be somewhat weak.
On this matter the third category exhibits a considerable range.
(b) Let us turn now to the question of implications concerning others. The consideration at (3) might seem to give
ri:se to a prima facie argument of at least some force that others
should share the state. Adherents of the Scriptural tradition
do suppose, in every age, that the notion of a sphere beyond
the natural is genuinely viable. And it is quite true that this
individual is not alone in his difficulty with it. Still it might
be suggested that the condition in question is not here fulfilled
as strongly as in prior cases. For what one group finds genuinely
viable,--at least with regard to a matter such as the present17 Support for the present point can be found in discussions offered by Diogenes
Allen and Basil Mitchell. Sec Allen's The Reasonableness of Faith (WashingtonCleveland: Corpus Books, 1968); and Mitchell's The Justification of Religious
Belief (New York: Seabury, 1974). See also Norbert 0. Schedler, editor's introduction to Chapter Six, "Process Thought: Toward a New Theism? " in Schedler,
ed., op. cit. (note ll) .

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is not necessarily what another does or should. We might in
this context view with favor a form of expression offered by the
doubter himself: that we are here faced with two different
" cultures," cultures separated by a fundamental difference of
concept. Only this remark would not carry any suggestion
that the thinking of Christians is somehow essentially inferior.
Of course, the point about two cultures cuts both ways. Thus
it might seem somewhat plausible to hold that the present
consideration manifests a genuine problem, rather than a misapprehension or mistake. It might be thought, however, that
there is at least some question about the fulfillment of this
latter condition as well, in light, for example, of the genuine if
limited possibilities of theistic analysis and argumentation. In
light of all this it should perhaps be said concerning the present
case that both the required conditions are fulfilled to some degree, but neither is fulfilled to a high degree.
We might recall at this point the other cases in this range
to which we have alluded. Once again they would appear to
fall on either side of our main example. In the one case-in
which doubt is focused on a common supposition about the
sort of message preached by Jesus-the consideration's relevance would be more general and public; but at the same time
it could more strongly be said that there is revealed a misapprehension or mistake. And in the other case-in which doubt
is focused on the supposition that there might be a single
highest path to human fulfillment-it could more strongly be
urged that there is indicated a genuine problem with the religious proposals; but at the same time the significance of the
consideration expressed would be more individual and private.
Here too, then, we find some diversity. But the upshot for
our study can he simply stated: in connection with none of
the present cases does there arise a strong judgment that others
should share the state of douht. 18
18 It might be wondered, of course-both here and in relation to other categories-whether our examples are truly representative. This indeed is a matter for further
investigation. An additional factor which might be treated in such investigation

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JOHN CARLSON

Case (4)
" I have a familiarity with key Biblical ideas-for example,
those of sin and rebirth. And I have no intellectual problems
or objections to raise against them. My difficulty is that
I can arrive at no clear grasp of what it would be like to
view oneself in their terms."

(a) This difficulty might be discussed in relation to a further
aim of those seeking to communicate the Biblical message.
The aim is that people will come to see how they might regard
their concrete situations, and the situation of the world around
them, in light of the central religious themes. That they will
come to see how they might regard themselves, for example,
as part of a people under the Father's loving care; and again,
as being in need of rebirth in union with the Son; and still again,
as called to participate, through the guidance and strengthening
of the Spirit, in a renewal of the face of the earth. If a person
discovers genuine meaning along these lines he shares a fourth
aspect of an awareness adequate to faith. The person at (4)
reveals by his remarks that he has failed to do so. Accordingly,
his and similar states of doubt might be characterized in the
following way: they involve a failure to find adequate concrete
and personal significance in the themes of the Biblical tradition.
In directing an individual to some parts of the above significance a religious teacher can refer to publicly observable objects and conditions. By and large, however, he must rely on
suggestions for personal reflection in light of his own and others'
discoveries in this area. And while there indeed seem to be
relevant similarities amid the diversity of human .situationspeople of every age and culture have found significance in the
religious themes-it is the individual himself who must underwould be the strength and scope which a doubter may expressly claim for the
consideration he raises. Thus, for example, if the doubter at (3) were to say that
no one could rationally entertain the notion of a sphere beyond the natural, his
consideration would have greater general and public relevance; but it also would
more strongly suggest a misapprehension or mistake. On the other hand, if this
doubter were to say only that he and others like him see no merit in a notion
of this sort, the two points would be reversed.

POSSIBILITIES

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615

take the reflection on his own case; and the appropriate outcome of such an effort is at least very difficult to judge in any
a priori and external way. It emerges that the present procedures are rather less .straightforward, and also less open to
general assessment, than those we have previously discussed.
The process of communication must therefore be termed rather
uncertain in its proper results. The results hoped for by religious teachers would preclude a person's thinking being dominated by a difficulty in this category. But even so it could
only rather weakly be said that the occurrence of such a difficulty reflects negatively on the individual's own thinking.
(b) Taking up our other line of inquiry, let us notice that
the second condition for an implication concerning others is
rather strongly fulfilled. Believers may indeed hope that others
will achieve a clear grasp of how they might view themselves
in Biblical terms. But as the above discussion brings out, there
would be only a thin basis for maintaining that if a person fails
to do so he fails to achieve something which, even in principle,
he can and should achieve. Thus there would be only a thin
basis for maintaining that the consideration at (4) reveals a
misapprehension or mistake. On the other hand it would seem
that the first condition is here fulfilled only rather weakly. The
present difficulty is of course not uncommon; and the similarity
among human situations might be thought to have some relevance in this context as well. But in general the fact that one
person fails to find adequate significance in a certain set of
themes has little tendency to argue that others also should fail
to do so. Here again, therefore, no strong implication of the
sort in question emerges.
Case (5)
" Sometimes I find myself attracted by the way of life
proposed in the Scriptures. But however it may be with
others it is beyond me to imagine that I could ever come
to maintain it. What more is there to say?"

(a) The present difficulty might be viewed in light of still
another hope of those undertaking religious communication

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JOHN CARLSON

efforts. For surely it is hoped that those who encounter the
Scriptural message will think that they might maintain the way
of life it proposes: that they might develop an attitude of selfless love, for example; or discern and follow paths which contribute to the ultimate renewal of all things. But how is it that
one might think this? Persons of faith awareness would say
that their ability to fulfill-and to be fulfilled by-a life of faith
derives not from a source within themselves so much as from
a source that lies beyond. These persons have a sense, as we
might put it, of the availability to themselves, and indeed to the
whole world, of certain qualities spoken of in the religious
message-qualities like love, knowledge, power, and so on in
a measure that might be termed unconditioned. The remarks
at (5) manifest a departure from faith awareness along this
line. Thus the state of doubt they express, and others which
can be associated with it, might be said to belong to the following category: ones which represent r.,n insufficient sense of
the availability of unconditioned qualities such as those which
the Scriptures proclaim.
The individual in our example asks at the end, " What more
is there to say?'' Now those seeking to impart the religious
message will surely wish to say .something that might help him
and others come to share their sense. But appropriate remarks
in this context would seem most often limited to expressions of
encouraging witness. In fact, such witness must be largely nonverbal in character, the community of believers seeking to manifest by their lives, individual and corporate, the presence of
the above qualities in their midst. In connection with such
efforts a person might, if he is properly open, come to share the
type of awareness in question. But then again he might not.
And, if he does not, then, given the depth to which the relevant
modes of sensitivity must here become actualized, there would
indeed seem to he very little if anything further that can be
said. We see, in light of this, that the present communication
process is most indirect and private in character. The results
intended by believers would indeed keep individuals from being

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OF RELIGIOUS

SKEPTICISM

617

dominated by the present difficulty. But these results can
scarcely be termed results of certainty. Accordingly a judgment
would only very weakly be in order that in principle no one
should be dominated by the difficulty.
(b) With regard to the question of implications concerning
others, let us notice that there could be very strong grounds for
saying that this consideration indicates a genuine problem with
Scriptural proposals. Believers' hopes aside, it would seem that
a person might be well exposed to the religious community, and
attempt to respond to that exposure in an appropriate way, and
yet find it beyond him to imagine, in the circumstances in which
he finds himself, his maintaining a life of faith. It should be
clear, however-and indeed is to the present doubter-that the
general and public relevance of this difficulty is very slight.
That an individual is unable to gain a sense of the availability
of unconditioned love, knowledge, and power is indeed a matter
of significance. But the significance relates, in terms of our inquiry, almost entirely to the individual himself. Thus reflection on case (5) also fails to give rise to a strong judgment that
others should come to share the state of doubt.

*
This concludes our examination of cases. We have, to be
sure, investigated only a handful of examples. It is my belief,
however, that others that might be taken up tend to support
our five-fold scheme of categorization; and also the types of
analysis we have offered in connection with each ca,se.19 If this
19 Among other expressions of doubt the following arc ones which could be
associated with (1) - (5), respectively. (I') "I'm aware of Christianity's doctrinal formulas, But it is hard to see in them anything like a set of ideas for
regulating one's life and thought." (2') "Although I have been open to a convincing revelation that I should embrace the present tradition, no such revelation
has ever occurred." (8') " In spite of what religious people themselves wish to
say, it seems most plausible to view belief in God along Freudian or similar lines."
(4') "Certain parables and sayings of Jesus have a kind of universal meaning. By
and large, however, they seem to me to have very little bearing on contemporary
modes of life." (5') "I indeed hope for the best with regard to the future of
the world. But that it might come to a state of total fulfillment-this I cannot
sense as a live possibility."

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JOHN CARLSON

belief is borne out through further research and reflection, it
will emerge that we have achieved the broad outlines of a perspicuous representation of the phenomena.
Complexities and Refinements. Before proceeding to a tentative
resolution of our topic let us mention a number of complexities
to be found at the level of the concrete and particular. First,
an individual may experience difficulties with Christian proposals, and yet not be in a state of doubt, as we have characterized this state at the outset. The difficulties here would
strictly involve certain failures of personal response, rather than
considerations going against the proposals. Similarly, an individual may simply reject the life-possibility offered to him
by Christianity, again with no reference to such considerations.
It is worth mentioning that the present states can occur in conjunction with an awareness adequate to faith. Indeed they are
ones which, in some measure or other, believers recognize in
themselves.
With regard to genuine states of doubt it should be noted
that, due to vagueness or ambiguity of expression, a person's
difficulty may not, at least to begin with, easily be located
within any one of our categories. An example of a vague expression would be the following: " I know what is said by the Biblical tradition, but I have no idea whether I should embrace it."
The difficulty here indicated may be somewhat like that expressed at (fl) , involving an incorrect grasp of relevant logical
matters. Or it may be somewhat like that expressed at (4),
involving a failure to find adequate personal significance. But
which, if either, of these interpretations would be proper it is
at this point impossible to say. Again, we might consider the
things that can be suggested by a remark such as the fallowing:
"I just can't believe in an all-perfect God when there's such evil
and suffering in the world." Here, I believe, we have an expression which is at least three ways ambiguous. This person may,
somewhat like the person at (1), have an inadequate familiarity
with what the religious proclamation says concerning Godmistakenly supposing, for example, that it says God gives man

POSSIBILITIES

OF RELIGIOUS

SKEPTICISM

619

what is desirable in the short run, or from man's own point
of view. Or he may, somewhat like the person at (3), be unable
to see how a recognition of evil and an employment of traditional concepts of deity can be part of a single, coherent framework of thought. Or he may, somewhat like the person at (5),
be so struck by the suffering of the innocent that he finds it
impossible to gain any sense of the availability of unconditioned
love, knowledge, and power. Which of the three states the remark expresses would have to be made clear through additional
discussion.
Further, an individual's thinking in relation to Christian proposals may be dominated by difficulties of more than one type.
He may regard them, for example, as incapable of being seriously entertained due to lack of supporting evidence; and at the
same time as bearing little real relationship to his own concrete situation. Again, an individual's state of doubt, although
one which could be designated by .a single description, may involve a complex interweaving of strands. In this connection
we might again advert to the various types of force which the
presence of evil can exert on a person's thinking.
Another point to be noted is that difficulties like those which
dominate the thinking of religious doubters can also to some
degree affect the thinking of believers. The latter may be
troubled, for example, about the contemporary viability of certain essential Biblical teachings. If their thinking is thus affected to too great a degree, however, they will no longer enjoy
an awareness adequate to faith. It should be added that it is
not always clear whether or not such should he said to be the
case.
Finally, as suggested by the above, it may be difficult-even
for the individual himself-to know just how his state should
be characterized: whether it should he said to be a state of
douht, or rather one of the others into which this state shades
off-a state of simple failure to arrive at any orientation; a
state of simple rejection; or a state in which there is faith, or
faith awareness, but at the same time a being troubled by
doubt.

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JOHN CARLSON

III.

RESOLUTION OF THE TOPIC

Summary and Resulting Account. Let us now bring into survey the results of our investigation, and indicate their bearing
on the issue at hand. Our aim, as originally stated, has been to
discern the possibilities of religious skepticism, as these arise
in the context of the Biblical tradition. To this end we elaborated certain general characterizations and distinctions, and in
particular marked off two senses of the term " skepticism " a weak sense applying to any state of doubt, and a strong sense
applying only to a state of doubt in which the individual thinks
a strong implication emerges concerning others. In an effort
to see whether orientations of either sort could be appropriate
we undertook, in relation to examples from each of five categories, two corresponding lines of inquiry. Our results can be
summarized as follows.
(a) With regard to the question of whether a judgment
would be in order that in principle no one should be dominated
by the difficulty we have seen a progression of cases. We have
seen, that is, that the associated communication processe.s range
from the very certain to the very uncertain in their proper results. Thus, while in each case the results intended by those
seeking to impart the Scriptural message-viz., a sharing in
some aspect of faith awareness-would preclude the corresponding category of difficulties, the grounds for saying that the
occurrence of such difficulties reflects negatively on the people's
own thinking would range from the very strong to the very
weak. To the extent that states of doubt fall within earlier
categories, but only to this extent, it could be said that in principle all can and should avoid them.
(b) With regard to the question of whether a strong implication emerges that others should share the difficulty our cases
form a spectrum. In connection with (1) the first conditionthat of general and public relevance-is fulfilled to a very high
degree; but the second condition-that of indicating a genuine
problem with the proposals-is fulfilled only to a very low degree. In connection with (5) the points are exactly reversed:

POSSIBILITIES

OF RELIGIOUS

SKEPTICISM

621

the second condition is fulfilled to a very high degree; but the
first condition is fulfilled only to a very low degree. Cases (2),
(3), and (4) fill out the spectrum to which we have alluded.
Our study accordingly suggests that in connection with doubts
in earlier categories-the first and second, and some portions
of the third-it could be said with this or that degree of
strength that there arises a prima facie argument concerning
others; but at the same time it could be said, again with this
or that degree of strength, that the consideration reveals a misapprehension or mistake. And our study suggests that in connection with doubts in later categories-other portions of the
third, and the fourth and fifth-it could be said with this or
that degree of strength that the consideration indicates a genuine problem with the proposals; but at the same time it could
be said, again with this or that degree of strength, that there
is little tendency toward an argument concerning others. If
all this is further confirmed through additional investigation
there will emerge the following general results. In connection
with no state of doubt concerning Christian teachings are the
two conditions required for the present implication jointly and
strongly fulfilled. And thus in connection with no such state
of doubt does there in fact arise a strong judgment that others
should come to share it.
The results here indicated-supposing they are correct-give
rise to the following account of our topic. An orientation of
skepticism in relation to Christianity will be possible in any
case in which a person does not enjoy a state of faith awareness. Insofar as it involves doubts in earlier categories an orientation of skepticism in even the weak sense will be an inappropriate one. It might, however, indeed be appropriate insofar
as it involves doubts in later categories. On the other hand,
no orientation of religious skepticism in the strong sense will
ever be appropriate.

Assessment of Initial Viewpoints. We might return now to the
two viewpoints noted at the outset, and to an assessment of
them in light of our study. With regard to the remarks of Kai

JOHN CARLSON

Nielsen I think we might say the following. It is surely correct to hold that even believers can " have doubts," or be
" threatened with disbelief." That is, even persons who enjoy
states of faith awareness can be troubled, and severely troubled,
by difficulties. Indeed it can happen that the difficulties come
to dominate their thinking in relation to Biblical religion; in
which case, no longer sharing an awareness adequate to faith,
they might well "reject a religious orientation altogether."
Further, we have seen a verification of the idea that there are
" varieties of religious scepticism." And we can perhaps approve of the suggestion that religious skeptics-or some of
them-find the proposals of this tradition " unpersuasive, incredible." However, there is nothing in our study to support
Nielsen's idea that there are general and powerful critiques of
reliITTousfaith. If the results indicated above are correct, there
will not be any strong grounds for saying that religious commitment could not be "reasonable " or " justified." And there
also will not be any sound arguments which show that all
persons " should be sceptics." Remarks of these latter sorts,
expressing skepticism in the strong sense, will be regarded by
anyone who comes to accept our account as reflecting some incorrect view of the situation. 20
Turning to the remarks of D. Z. Phillips, we have seen that
an individual might indeed come to " reject and defy " his tradition and its God. This form of non-belief can even occur
among those who enjoy a state of faith awareness. 21 Again, it
•• This is not to say that it will be easy, either to see or to set out, just what the
incorrect view is. And certainly I have not fully addressed the various considerations put forward in Nielsen's own writings. Readers familiar with them, however,
will perhaps anticipate my belief that they mainly express doubts belonging to
our seCQnd and third categories. It should be noted in this connection that Nielsen
himself recognizes that considerations of the latter type have less general and
public relevance than those of (what I should classify as) the former. See his
remarks on the position of Tziporah Kasachkoff in Scepticism, pp. 94-95.
" It might be noted that Phillips himself appears, at least sometimes, to recognize the present point. Fully quoted, the remark indicated in note 8 reads as
follows: " The rebel must see the kind of relationship God asks of the believer
before. he can reject and defy it. He sees the story from the inside, but it is not

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628

can happen that an individual " cannot bring himself to react
in a certain way; " or that he finds that he " has no use ., for
a certain religious picture. The proper analysis of cases that
might be de.scribed in these ways seems somewhat unclear at
the general level. The former phrase perhaps suggests a state
of awareness adequate to faith; the latter perhaps a genuine
state of doubt. Further, it emerges that an account of certain
states of doubt results in negative light being cast on the
people's own thinking. And in particular it emerges that an
account of certain such states-for example, that expressed in
our second case--points to an improper "craving for generality." However, the present study does not suggest that
negative light is cast on the thinking of all persons in a state of
doubt. It does so only with regard to the thinking of those
whose difficulties fall within earlier categories. On the other
hand, many who declare themselves to be religious skeptics
think that others should come to share their orientation. If the
term " .skepticism " is employed in this strong sense--but only
if it is employed in this strong sense-the general results here
suggested support Phillips's final contentions: the contentions,
that is, that one can " refute scepticism about . . . religion; "
and again, that a correct grasp of relevant matters is "incompatible " with it. 22
a story that captivates him." However, at other times Phillips appears to rule
out the possibility here indicated. Thus he says at one point that the rebel " does ·
not see the point of religion as the believer does, since for the believer seeing
the point of religion is believing " (Faith and Philosophical Enquiry, p. 12). If
Phillips's " see (ing) the point of religion as the believer does " can be equated
with my "sharing an awareness adequate to faith," this latter remark would seem
to entail that no one who enjoys a state of faith awareness can fail to be a believer.
••However, I do not think that Phillips's own bases for these contentions are
adequate. In the remark indicated in note 11 he suggests that one can refute
skepticism simply by showing " that there is a real difference between the presence
and absence of ... religious considerations." And in the remark indicated in note
l!'l he suggests that skepticism is incompatible with a mere recognition that religious "understanding . . . [must involve] passion." But it seems possible to
imagine a person who recognizes these points nevertheless adopting 8Jl orientation
of skepticism in the strong sense. (And a fortiori it seems possible to imagine
such a person adopting 8Jl orientation of skepticism in the weak sense.)

JOHN CARLSON

Philosophical approaches other than our own might of course
be undertaken to the possibilities of religious skepticism. But
it can be said, I believe, that-whatever their authors' orientations-any which hope to be adequate must take account of
the complexities set out in the present paper.
JOHN CARLSON

Saint Louis University
Saint Louis, Missouri

WHICH ALLEGORY FOR RELIGIOUS TRUTH:
PLATO'S CAVE OR NIETZSCHE'S
ZARATHUSTRA?

I

N THE ERA of renewal in Christian theology and religious
education since the days of Vatican Council II, those involved in Christian education have been stimulated by the
publication of a considerable amount of material, not derived
from theology, but rather from social science, speaking of religion as being intrinsic to both man and society. From psychology and sociology, authors such as P. Berger, R. May, R.
Bellah, A. Maslow-to mention but a few of those one could
cite-have provided the Christian educator with material which
makes it possible to speak once more of essential religious
values, of the meaning of creativity, spontaneity, liberation and
transcendence, all of which are seen by such authors as lying
at the center of the religious dimension of personal and social
life.1 A new sense of freedom and dignity is provided by such
authors in a way which many religious educators find expressive of .some of the basic features of Christian faith, and which
give to the work of the Christian educator a new and vigorous
task of promoting individual creativity and a personal sense of
transcendence in the midst of a largely materialistic and computerised society.
It is then with a sense of trepidation at the prospect of
treading on certain fashionable feet that, in this short essay, I
call attention to what appears to be a philosophical dilemma confronting the theologian and the religious educator, a dilemma
born from reflection on the use of social science in the task of
1 R. May:
The Courage to Create, W. W. Norton, N. Y., (1975); Love and
Will,, W. W Norton, NY., (1969); A. Maslow: Religious Values and Peak Experiences, Viking, N. Y., (1970); P. Berger: Rumour of Angels, London, Pelican,
(1971); T. Luckmann: The Invisible Religion, London, Macmillan, (1967).

MICHAEL QUIGLEY

promoting Christian faith. My suggestion is that we clarify in
our minds once more what lies at the philosophical root of our
work as Christian educators. There can be no doubt that from
both sociological and psychological perspectives a good deal
of contemporary literature perceives an essential ' religious'
dimension to man and society. But the question to which we
are attempting to address ourselves in this essay is this: does
the use of the term ' religious ' by authors not particularly committed to, or affiliated with, any theistic tradition, much less
the Christian tradition, carry with it a valid expression of what
is considered authentically religious by the Christian tradition?
Conversely, is there to be found in the Christian tradition anything which might find that tradition at odds with the contemporary usage of the word ' religious ' ?
Unfortunately, posing the question in this manner might convey the false impression that Christianity has, at least in the
mind of this author, a hold on the meaning of ' religious' to
which all else must submit. It is certainly not our intention to
make this claim, much less to ask for a return to some form of
rigid Barthianism, or to deny important features of secularization. The main stream of Christian theology would seem to
demand that truth be found in the world, and, on the basis
of the doctrines of creation and incarnation, the world is the
locus of God's revelation, and that is where the Christian is
called to live his faith.
The philosophical issue which seems to be at stake is this:
Is there anything about the world in itself which is presupposed
by Christianity to such an extent that, if this philosophical
understanding is radically undermined and a revolutionary kind
of philosophy substituted, it would render it impossible for the
Christian faith to be articulated in such terms, without that
faith becoming quite different from what it has been traditionally? Put in simpler terms: is there any philosophical sense
in which what is ' religious ' might be utterly opposed to what
is Christian? Clearly, this is a most difficult task, and one which
many will find irrelevant in the modern climate. Let us be

RELIGIOUS TRUTH:

PLATO OR NIETZSCHE

627

grateful that serious authors find man ' religious ', that they
provide us with a meaningful sense of the term ' religious', and
take the matter from there. What is more, is not the theologian
following a time-hallowed method of drawing on contemporary
thought in expressing his faith? If a ' new beginning' is philosophically necessary, then that is fine, for Christian faith has
never tied itself down to one form of philosophy. Such arguments appear to be acceptable in many Catholic and Protestant
theological circles, and the arguments for such broad ' ecumenism ' are to many persuasive. What then is the purpose
of raising our philosophical questions?
The clarification of the philosophical issue would seem to
be important to one who is concerned to preserve what ought
to be preserved as essential to the Christian tradition. Nowhere
more than in the classroom is the Christian aware of this, and
conscious also of his responsibility in the matter. Clearly the
task of fully clarifying the philosophical questions we pose is an
enormous task beyond the possibility of a brief essay. Nonetheless, a start can be made in the following manner, by the
contrast of two allegories: the allegory of the cave, which is
to be found in Book Seven of Plato's Repu,blic, and the allegory
of Zarathustra in F. Nietzsche's famous work Thus Spoke
Zarathustra. 2 I would claim that the choice of these two particular allegories is not an arbitrary one. On the one hand,
Plato's allegory, together with its context in the Repu,blic and
within the writings of Plato as a whole, lies at the heart of what
has, for two thousand years, been understood as philosophy in
Western civilization. On the other hand, Nietzsche's allegory
of Zarathustra can be seen as thoroughly modem, insofar as
it clearly represents, in the hands of Nietzsche, an explicit rejection of what is Platonic, of what is philosophy, and more generally, of what is essential, in Nietzsche's estimation, to the intellectual content of Western civilization, and that includes
Christianity. Nietzsche rightly perceived that, insofar as Chris• Plato: The Republic; F. Nietzsche: Thus Spoke Zarathustra, in The Portable
Nietzsche (ed.) Walter Kaufmann, Princeton, Viking Press, (1954).

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MICHAEL QUIGLEY

tianity proposes belief in a higher reality than this world of
change, it finds the framework of Plato's thinking congenial to
an expression of faith, and that Christian theology has made
ample use of the philosophical tradition in expressing itself
through the ages since the Church Fathers. 3
A second reason, of a theological nature, would seem to validate our proposed contrast of the two allegories. In certain philosophical and theological circles today the gulf which
separates the classical and the modern is increasingly apparent.
Not only in 'death of God' theology, but also in the work of
those who have attempted to re-state the meaning of Christian
faith in the modern age in a totally new idiom, it is seen that
they now do so on the clear understanding that what is modern
involves a total rejection of the philosophical past, and that a
' new beginning ' is necessary. Hence, for example, H. Cox
could state (ten years ago) that "the irrepressible emergence
(of the secular city) establishes a new situation which renders
former ways of thinking and doing wholly obsolete," 4 whilst on
the European scene, a Catholic theologian could state that "the
old manner of approaching the problem of God has become
quite unintelligible. One can no longer think and speak about
God in the way which the older generation of believers-and
the official Church also-frequently still do." 5 Examples could
be multiplied of contemporary theologians who are prepared
to take this approach, and who, on the basis of historical
thought, are prepared to say that a ' new beginning' is necessary. What are in general understood as traditional expressions
of faith are now deemed redundant and ought to be superseded.
What is past is gone. The future of faith demands creative
thought of the present.
• F. Nietzsche: The Use and Abuse of History, translated by A. Collins; Library
of Liberal Arts, Bobbs-Merrill. N. Y., (1949), pp. 49-50; Beyond Good and Evil
in Basic Writings of Nietzsche (ed.) W. Kaufmann, Modern Library, N. Y., (1968),
pp. 193, 25Vl5B.

• H. Cox: The Secular City, Macmillan, N. Y., (1965), p. 117.
• W. H. Van de Pol: The End of Conventional Christianity, Newman Press,
N Y., (1967), p. 147.

RELIGIOUS TRUTH:

PLATO OR NIETZSCHE

629

And here we have a third, and perhaps most important, reason for our proposed contrast. Traditional faith is attacked for
the most part by such theologians on the basis of history. To
.speak of a' new beginning' in theology, and therefore in religious education, is to engage, for the most part, in a historical
criticism of both classical thought and the Christian tradition.
The present form of secular and scientific society, it is claimed,
is quite different from what has previously been seen on earth.
A radically new form of .society demands an equally radical
mode of expression of faith. Implicitly at least, this is to reject
the traditional philosophical basis of Western civilization. It
equally implies a search for a new basis, a new ground for one's
understanding of values and of faith.
If historical criticism is the means by which the philosophical
and theological traditions of Christianity are today challenged,
it is also the historical sense which is responsible for the emergence of a new understanding of values. Hence the historical
sense comes to be an essential feature of what is modern. Once
reason has been discredited as the basis of virtue in society, historical thought can he seen as coming into its own to fill the
vacuum. 6 It is precisely at this point that one can perceive the
importance of the image of Zarathustra, who rejects the traditions of philosophy and theology on the basis of history, and
at the same time is the creator of a truly historical existence of
historical ' virtue.' In any contrast of the classical and the
modern, Zarathustra stands as an all-important image, for he
presents us with a ' new beginning,' based on creativity and
liberation. In many respects, he epitomizes a new kind of philosophy-historical existence-in his denunciation and rejection
of tradition. 7
At the same time, the claim can be made that the philosophi6 Cf. L. Strauss:
Natural Right and History, Univ. of Chicago Press, Chicago,
(1971), ch. 1, pp. 9-34.
• Nietzsche examines the different ways in which the nature of historical existence can be understood, arriving at his own radical understanding of history in
his essay: The Use and Abuse of History, translated by A. Collins, Library of
Liberal Arts, Bobbs-Merrill, N. Y., (1957).

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MICHAEL QUIGLEY

cal tradition which stems from Plato and Socrates has been extremely influential in informing the traditions of Christianity.
If Plato is the philosopher of reason, then philosophy until
modern times can be seen as the pursuit of truth by reason.
Many of the Christian Fathers, and clearly Augustine and
Aquinas, could find in the philosophical tradition an ally for
the expression of Christian faith. At the very least, reason was
seen by the intellectual greats of the Christian tradition as
being in a state of harmony with faith; there is no necessary
contradiction between faith and reason. Faith complements
reason, and faith supersedes reason, but without nullifying the
findings of reason. Hence, Christian theology could make good
use of what is essential to the philosophical mode of thinking
about reality and about man himself. Augustine could speak
about ' that noble philosopher Plato ' 8 and could state elsewhere that " these philosophers, then, whom we see not undeservedly exalted above the rest in fame and glory, have seen
that no material body is God, and therefore they have transcended all bodies in seeking for God. They have seen that
whatever is changeable is not the most high God .... " 9
Plato's allegory of the cave indicates to us precisely this
point concerning the nature of human existence. It is not in
terms of this changing life amid the shadows of conventionality
that man finds truth but in his ability to emerge from the cave
into the broad light of the higher realm. Truth transcends not
only material things, but also the world of change and opinion
(perspective). Life on earth (the cave) presupposes the light
of truth, and human fulfillment consists in the continuous
search and enquiry into the nature of truth. It would seem to
imply also a certain dissatisfaction with the comforts of this
world, together with a certain pain and suffering at leaving an
accustomed world of opinion for that of the unknown. It is
Plato's argument, and it would seem also to be that of Augustine, that only insofar as man has knowledge of a higher reality
• St. Augustine: De Trinitate, 15;
• St. Augustine: Oity of God, ch. 6.

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is he capable of the life of virtue. The search for truth makes
justice, courage, moderation and wisdom possible. By the same
measure, only insofar as society makes virtue its goal is society
capable of rising above the evil to which every form of government is prone. Hence, transcendent truth makes virtue possible
both for the individual and for society. For both Plato and for
Augustine, man is understood both as a rational and as a social
being, whose knowledge and virtue are dependent on life in
society. Human virtue is both personal and public. Perhaps
it is only such an understanding of virtue which makes possible,
in the first instance, the writing of such a book as Augustine's
Confessions.
But what is of most importance to our present concern is the
kind of religious education to which such an understanding of
reality gives rise. For both Plato and Augustine, the life and
the pursuit of virtue is based on knowledge-knowledge which
ultimately transcends a world of change and of opinion (shadows). This knowledge would seem to constitute the basis of
human fulfillment and hence of education. Philosophical virtue
(for Plato) and theological virtue (for Augustine) would seem
to be essential to the humanization of all other forms of science.
As Plato tells us in the Republic, the end of society and hence
of education must be the life of virtue which makes possible the
presence of justice in society. 10 But clearly, it is transcendent
truth which makes virtue possible in the first place. There is
a distinctly 'religious' understanding of Plato's teaching on
virtue, based as it is on a teleological understanding of human
fulfillment, which of course receives a definitely Christian transformation in the hands of Augustine. But it would nevertheless
be correct to say that when Augustine speaks of making God
the object of human esteem, the God who is revealed in the
Word, he does so in a manner which does not nullify what Plato
tells us concerning the life of virtue and transcendent teleology.
Where Plato can ascribe virtue to the efforts of the philosopher,
Augustine ascribes virtue to the power and grace of God. There
10

Plato: The Republic, Book 4.

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is then a much deeper .sense of man's humility in the theological
virtue of Augustine. However, what is common to Plato and
Augustine is that they both find human fulfillment not in the life
amid the shadows of a changing world, but ultimately in the
higher reality of Goodness, which for Augustine the Christian is
the God who creates virtue and answers to the human search for
truth. Human fulfillment (which includes all human pur.suitsand therefore the sciences) is taken up into a religious context.
All of human existence is seen in religious terms. Man's end
or goal in life is essentially religious. But in reflecting on the
allegory of the cave, one common misinterpretation must be
laid to rest. Life in the cave does not lead to a passive or static
mode of human existence. Rather, it is incumbent on man to
strive for the higher realm of Truth and progress in virtue. To
remain content within the cave is to opt for ignorance and injustice. Classical thought does not therefore supply us with
an option out of social and personal responsibility. The very
' other-worldliness ' of classical teleology demands a constant
striving after justice in this world. The religious nature of existence issues in an active striving for social justice, not a life
of negligence, although Plato does add in the allegory that, in
so doing, the philosopher will enrage the cave-dwellers and become the object of their wrath. 11
It is clear therefore that on the basis of the classical understanding of virtue and knowledge, religious education gives rise
to a broad search for truth, to a way of life which searches
throughout the whole of human existence for truth, for truth
transcends cultural boundaries. In specifically Christian terms,
the Christian is called upon to search for Truth in every human
endeavor, including the .sciences, with the assurance that God
is to be found not solely within the institutions of Christianity
11 One might also add that on reading Plato's
description of movement from
the cave to the light, it is difficult to speak of a dualism. The cave and the
light are two dimensions of one human reality. Neither can it be said that the
allegory affords an overly-intellectualized view of existence. While maintaining
a teleological view of life, the allegory and The Republic as a whole are concerned
with the social nature of existence.

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but throughout the created world. It is an understanding of
life which could lead Augustine to incorporate so much of the
thought of Plato and Cicero into his Christian theology, and
enable Aquinas to search and find truth in the philosophy of
Aristotle and the Islamic philosophers. It is an understanding
of religious education which gave rise to a broad Christian humanism in the West.
One could, at this point of the discussion, conclude that what
has been described here is a highly idealistic understanding of
religious education which certainly in modern times has failed
badly. There can be no denial that Christians have indeed
failed to live up to such high ideals. Of their nature, ideals are
beyond complete implementation. However, the human betrayal of such ideals does not falsify the ideals themselves.
Clearly, what we are trying here to describe is the intellectual
foundation of traditional religious education. It goes without
saying that .such an understanding of religious education has
in our times been radically attacked, and in no more fundamental manner than in the work of F. Nietzsche. But the power
of Nietzsche's argument against Christianity is not based solely
on cheap shots against the way Christians have failed to live
up to their ideals. The force of his argument is directed against
the intellectual foundations (philosophical and theological) of
traditional education. It is no disgrace to admit in all humility
that one has failed to live up to the demands of Christian ideals.
It is the traditional Christian belief that the higher one's ideals,
the more demanding will these ideals be on one's life. But it
is
here that Nietzsche attacks Christianity, in the very
strength of its humility. Zarathustra attacks Christianity not
because it has failed, but because it has succeeded in including
the whole of human culture under the aegis of virtue, and thereby has kept before man his humility as a servant under the
authority of a transcendent God.12
It is the contention of Nietzsche that such a religious understanding of the world, based as it is in the West on Platonic
12 Cf.

F. Nietzsche:

Beycmd Good and Evil, aphorisms 46-48, pp. 250-254.

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philosophy and Christian theism, has given rise to a completely
arid and deadly understanding of education in modern times.
Belief in objective realities in philosophy and theology has, so
he argues, led to the emergence of modern science and to the
false belief that human fulfillment is to be found in the knowledge of objective realities and an approximation of man to these
higher realities. A world dominated by the pursuit of objective
(transcendent) truth cannot, he maintains, actually do anything of itself. It can but imitate what is already presupposed to exist, but of itself it remains totally uncreative. Clearly then, to follow this line of argument, both philosophy and
Christianity (together with modern science) are to be held
responsible for a dead culture, a culture which can do nothing
other than imitate past civilizations, and claim that on the
basis of a theoretical understanding of reality it knows the
truth. In our age, Nietzsche claims, such a deadly process has
reached its apogee. Modem technological society has reached
the point where the vast majority of its inhabitants simply imitate in a slavish manner what they presuppose to be pre-existent truth. The effect of this belief is to reinforce in society
whatever is common to the whole, to the ' herd,' and to eliminate any real individuality. Modem men are nothing of themselves. Culture within a technological society is dead, and by
the same token the basis of this dead culture, belief in transcendent virtue and belief in a transcendent God, have also died in
the minds of men. But as Nietzsche tells us in Bey<md Good
and Evil, this inevitable end is due to the ' prejudices of the
philosophers ' who have falsely presumed the existence of truth
which men are called upon to discover. This has been the great
illusion in Western civilization which has led to the tragic circumstances in which man today finds himself.
If Nietzsche provides us with one of the most devastating
criticisms of modern society, he is also the provider of a new
humanism, a new way of thinking and acting which. will enable
man to recover from the illusions of philosophy, science and
Christianity. If culture is to be rejuvenated, then 'will to

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truth,' that 'mighty lie of Plato ' 13 must give way to a new
understanding of 'truth,' an understanding of which does not
rest in the illusion of a transcendent realm such as Plato or
Augustine might envisage, but an understanding of ' truth,'
the 'new truth' of Zarathustra, that the meaning of life is dependent on the historical perspective of each individual self. If
the means by which traditional philosophy proposes for man to
discover truth is by the use of reason, the ' new truth,' that of
perspectivity, is based on will-to-power, or the power of assertiveness of each historical individual. If at the end of the 18th
century one finds Hume and Kant skeptical of the power of
reason, one finds Nietzsche clearly engaged on the destruction
of any understanding of human existence based on reason.
It is no exaggeration to .say that it is Nietzsche's purpose to
attack and destroy in a radical manner what lies at the heart
of traditional philosophy in the West and traditional Christian
theism. He thereby attacks also the kind of education which
in general has characterized Western civilization in post-Socratic
and Christian times. Par excellence, Nietzsche is the philosopher capable of providing the twentieth century with the philosophical basis for a post-Christian age. It must be emphasized
that what Nietzsche proposes is not a re-shufB.ingof the categories
of philosophy and Christianity, but rather a new kind, a new
mode altogether, of human existence. This new kind of philosophy rests on the outright rejection of objective and transcendent
truth in all of its manifestations, to be replaced by the understanding that if there is nothing of any permanence in human
existence, then the whole of existence is a matter of perspectivity in the midst of utter change. How to deal with the fact
of utter relativism is the basis of the new humanism. The traditional understanding that reality is intelligible and that its
inherent intelligibility can be discovered by human reason must
now give way to the view that existence is thoroughly contingent and relative and that any expression of ' new truth ' is
synonymous with an individual's creativity, or the personal
18

Ibid., aphorism I, p. 199.

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expression of one's perspective on life. Man himself is now in
a position to bestow meaning on the world. As such he assumes
the role of creator and forsakes that of servant. If the logic of
Plato's allegory of the cave is to focus human existence on the
light of transcendent truth, the logic of the allegory of Zarathustra is to focus attention on this world exclusively, on the creative ability of each individual to liberate oneself from the past,
and through this freedom to create one's own future. If classical
philosophy sees human fulfillment in terms of eventually leaving the cave for the higher realm of the light of truth, the
nature of historical existence, as depicted by Nietzsche, entails
a living in the present moment, in the creation of one's own
cave, and the rejection of any possible exit to a higher realm
of existence. Needless to say, the cave of one's own making
is also historical and therefore must ultimately perish. But
that would seem to be the law of existing things.
Zarathustra represents a new kind of' philosophy,' based on
the assertion of the individual self. It builds on the death of
what has been the basis of philosophical and Christian education. Nietzsche's famous work Thus Spoke Zarathustra represents in many ways the climax of Nietzsche's thought, and hence
the allegory contains most, if not all, of what is entailed in his
revolutionary 'philosophy'. Where Plato can speak of truth
which is to be found through enquiry in the public realm of
society, on the basis of reason, which is common to all human
beings, Zarathustra represents the supreme individual, the first
to start from the falsehood of otherworldly truth. In a philosophy of individualism such as Zarathustra represents, the individual despises otherworldliness for it represses individuality
and denies to the self an all-sufficient perspectivity. Zarathustra must then be free to create his own perspectivity, his own
'truth,' his own meaning, which is asserted. 14 Where Platonic
freedom would seem to imply liberation from the concerns of
wealth, power and glory for the pursuit of the life of virtue,
Zarathustran freedom claims liberation from the pursuit of
"Ibid., aphorism 10, p. 206.

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transcendent virtue for the assertion of self-made values. Rejection of the higher realm of truth and justice means for Zarathustra liberation from authority of every kind, and from principles
of morality which burden the individual like a camel in the
desert. 15 Zarathustra is then the 'new philosopher' insofar as
he is the ' free spirit ' and can find within himself the power to
create what is new. If Platonic virtue demands the guidance
of emotion by reason, Zarathustran ' virtue' entails the free expression of the affections and emotions unrestrained by the
dictates of reason. Hence Zarathustra is first and foremost a
poet, capable of expressing profound sentiments. (In contrast,
Plato would seem to be highly dubious about giving pride of
place to the poet in his Republic, for the very reason that poetry
gives higher regard to the emotions and affections than to reason.)
At the same time, there is clear indication in the allegory of
Zarathustra that, given the predicament of contemporary society under the domination of Christianity, philosophy and science, together with the crowd's desire to remain in the comfort
which these traditions provide, Zarathustra indicates to us that
such creative individuals will be very rare indeed. Having
failed to convert the crowd into disciples Zarathustra realizes
that he ought not henceforth to endeavor to do so, for he
speaks a ' new truth ' which will be comprehended only by the
rare few: (unlike Jesus in the Gospel, who was able to convert
many because he spoke of a truth which the multitude could
understand) . There is, therefore, a sense in which Nietzsche
claims for the ' new philosopher' the rarity and nobility of
Socrates, provided one remembers that the nature of virtue in
each case is dramatically in contention. The ' virtue' of
Zarathustra is not transcendent, it is of his own making. It
is not discovered by reason, it is created by his own will. If
the great virtues of Socratic life are wisdom, justice, courage
and moderation, the ' virtues ' of Zarathustra are expressions
16 F. Nietzsche: Thus Spoke Zarathustra, Zarathustra's Speeches: On the Three
Metamorphoses: pp. 187-140.

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of the will and of emotions-namely love, joy, sympathy, pity,
hatred, disdain. Lacking any rational principle or standard by
which virtue might be distinguished from vice, Zarathustran
' virtue ' claims to have moved beyond such distinctions as justice / injustice, good / evil. The ' free spirit ' which is the ' new
philosopher' clearly gives rise to a' new morality.' In the metamorphosis from camel to child, the great demon ' Thou shalt '
must be destroyed. 16 In despising moral principle in preference
for the expression of the self, Nietzsche clearly aimed at the
destruction of morality, that is to say, the tradition of moral
philosophy since Socrates. At the same time, such a radical
historical view of existence is likewise at odds with the morality
of the New Testament, in which, generally speaking, human
action is directed by the Will of the Father. The Christian is
called upon to love the neighbor because God has first loved
man, and has created man with a common human dignity. Not
only does Zarathustra despise such a theistic ethic, but he also
despises the love of the neighbor, accounting it part of the
morality of the slave. Zarathustra preaches love of the friendthe one with whom there is an affective and emotional reciprocity. This, he would seem to be saying, is the morality of the
master, of the one who has creative power. Love of the neighbor is the love of what is common. Elsewhere, Nietzsche tells
us, it is the Christian expression of ' Platonism for the masses.'
But what is of great significance in Nietzsche's portrayal of
Zarathu.stra is that, besides exhibiting certain qualities of the
poet and the philosopher, Zarathustra appears to be a very' religious' figure, that is to say, in the allegory, there is a clear
intention on the part of Nietzsche to deck Zarathustra in some
of the most attractive characteristics of Christ in the New
Testament. This characteristic of Nietzsche's thought is first
made clear in Beyond Good and Evil, in his discussion of 'What
is Religious.' For reasons already suggested, there is a vitriolic
denunciation of Christianity by Nietzsche, but at the same
time, there is admiration for the discipline, the strength of will
16

Ibid., pp. ISS-189.

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and purpose of the saint. In Nietzsche's estimation, this will
and ascetieal drive has unfortunately been misdirected insofar
as it has been focused on a transcendent reality, God. Thus
fundamental movement of the will has been weakened by the
illusion of an other-worldly reality, namely, God. To revive its
original strength, the will must understand itself anew. It must
he seen that the will is the expression of man himself. There
is, in Nietzsche, room for optimism. " It seems to me," he tells
us, " that the religious instinct is indeed in the process of growing
powerfully-but the theistic satisfaction it refuses with deep
suspicion." 11 The reverent and ascetical discipline of the saint
is to be retained, whilst the object of Christian reverence, God,
the transcendent Reality, must be rejected. The image of
Zarathustra provides us with an indication of how to he 'religious ' whilst at the same time rejecting what is fundamental
to Christianity. Henceforth, man's love, reverence and discipline are to be directed towards himself and that group of
friends (perhaps the term community is applicable here) where
there is possible the free expression of the self. But in this depiction of human existence, man has forsaken the humility
of the servant of the Lord for a status of autonomous master
of his own future. The virtue of the Christian saint is hut a
perversion of will-to-power. Zarathustra loves the earth, and
loves man for his own sake, for in the eyes of Zarathustra there
is no other dimension to existence providing man with transcendent purpose and guidance.
As Zarathustra reveals in his relationship to the tightropewalker, he is very solicitous and sympathetic towards others.18
He can appear pious, joyful and affectionate. But his ' virtue '
is of his own making. He is the lover of man for his own sake,
not for the love of God. He is ' virtuous ' only insofar as he
is able to extricate himself from the group or whole of mankind,
that is to say, from society and its institutions. The individual
must find meaning within himself, not within society. If the
u F. Nietzsche: Beyond Good and Evil, aphorism 58, p. !i56.
Thus. Spoke Zarathustra, p. Ul.

18

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MICHAEL QUIGLEY

Hobbesian view of man is that he is a creature of passion in
need of rational society for assuaging a state of conflict, the relationship of Zarathustra to society is completely severed. The
meaning of existence consists in the free expression of the passions without rational restriction. What is most evidently lacking in Zarathustra is the central Socratic virtue of justice or
harmony brought about in both individual and society by reason.19 The free expression of the passions as portrayed by Zarathustra appears on the contrary to be a celebration of conflict
between individual and society from which the individual is in
a constant state of liberating himself. Clearly Nietzsche must
despise Christianity for its preaching of humility and conferring
of comfort, when for Nietzsche the meaning of existence consists in a life of activity, of continual liberation and freeing oneself from tradition in order to be free for oneself. But because
he portrays something of the love and reverence of the saint,
Zarathustra appears ' religious.' He is something of a Christlike figure, whilst at the same time despising both Christ and
the Christian tradition. The ' religious ' nature of Zarathustra
can appear only insofar as he frees himself from Christian theism, from belief in the existence of a transcendent Reality who
creates man. Zarathustra may portray religious attitudes, but
at no time does he allow for language about God.
Clearly, the logic of Zarathustra's historical existence-life
in the present, the creation of the future, the forgetting of the
past (tradition)-does not lead to belief in any transcendent
reality. Rather, it leads to a reliance on oneself and in one's
own ability to ' transcend ' what is a relative and meaningless
existence by providing one's own meaning to existence. Whatever ' truth ' there is in historical existence is created by the
subject. Whatever one's conclusions about Nietzsche might be,
it would seem that he has done theology a service by demonstrating that a serious commitment to the belief that the whole
of existence is thoroughly historical (changing) is not compati10

Ibid., p. 181.

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ble with the Christian tradition and its central doctrine, namely
' Credo in unum Deum.'
It is equally clear from a reading of the allegory of Zarathustra that Nietzsche intended, as we have noted above, to portray
the emergence of the 'new nature ' of historical existence as
quite discontinuous with the past. Discontinuity rather than
continuity is the logic of a thoroughly historical existence. As
Zarathustra tells us in his first speech, the human spirit must
pass through these metamorphoses-from camel to lion, and
from lion to child-before the ' new nature ' emerges.20 The
child is representative of new life, a new beginning, he is innocent of the past, he looks forward to the future, a future which
is radically open to the creative abilities of the self now liberated
from obedience to the authority of a higher reality. But whilst
the image of the child is attractive, perhaps invigorating and
conducive to enthusiasm, Nietzsche's use of the image must be
contrasted with the important image of the child in the New
Testament, where the salient characteristic would seem to be
one of humility and obedience to the Will of the Heavenly
Father. The image of the child in the New Testament is in
acute contrast with the meaning of the image of the child in
the allegory of Zarathustra.
THE EDUCATIONAL DILEMMA

The contrast between the two allegories not only provides
us with two contrasting views of what is philosophy, but also
two equally contrasting views of what amounts to education
and more particularly, religious education. At the same time,
Nietzsche affords us some clarification of some fundamental
issues. In both allegories, the dimension of the religious is seen
as essential to human existence, btit the meaning of transcenso As Nietzsche describes these metamorphoses, it is clear that the camel typifies
the life of obedience to higher realities, with which man is burdened. The lion
typifies revolt and resentment against authority, but is capable solely of revolt.
Hence the need to the final metamorphosis of the child. The child knows nothing
of the previous stages. His existence is discontinuous with the past.

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dence in the one is based on the rejection of the meaning of
transcendence in the other. In the allegory of the cave, man
transcends the world of opinion and conventions (shadows) by
the discovery of the light of knowledge. If we are correct in
saying that Zarathustra creates his own cave, then transcendence consists in the continuous assertions of the will over what
is recognized as utter contingency. Clearly, the meaning of education in this contrast is equally at stake. How is the Christian
educator to deal with this situation? Resolution of this important philosophical issue would seem to lie in the answer to that
ancient question: what think ye of truth? Is it possible for us
as Christian educators to reject the traditional understanding
and the traditional doctrinal statements concerning a transcendent God, to say that we can utter nothing whatsoever about
that Reality, and still remain faithful to the tradition of Christianity? I think not. If the Christian theologian and educator
rejects what is the traditional philosophical and theological
ground for statements about God, then on what human ground,
if any, does Christian theism rest? If the answer is-on historical existence--then it would seem that Nietzsche is more
consistent on this score than many contemporary theologians.
If by human existence we mean historical existence, then
Nietzsche demonstrates that historical existence does not lead
to belief in any transcendent Reality, but to acceptance of this
contingent world alone, in which man is fated to live out his
own meaning, a meaning which is equally subject to the
evanescent quality of history. One suspects that man is thus
called upon to live in the belief that there is nothing of any
lasting or permanent importance to his .life. Life is destined
to futility. 21
One must re-emphasize: as theologians and as Christian educators, what do we really mean when we say that all reality is
. historical? Can we say that there is a historical dimension to
existence but that there is a higher realm which transcends the
historical, or are we as serious about history as is Zarathustra,
11

On thi& issue, see once again L. Strauss: op. cit., p. is f.

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to the point where we must say that every aspect of existence
is time-bound and destined to perish? Finally, what dangers
are there in beginning with a general understanding of what
is religious and then trying to ' fit ' Christianity into this general category of 'religion' discerned in modern society? Our
argument is that not all that appears ' religious ' is consonant
with Christian faith. As a result of our contrast, it would appear that the Christian tradition has much to say about
what constitutes the meaning of religion-with which it can
perceive some affinity-and what understanding of religion is
incompatible with faith.
Clearly, it is impossible to formulate answers to all of these
questions here, but I suggest that they are fundamental questions which lie at the heart of both theology and religious
education. The philosophical context in which we use such
fashionable terms as freedom, liberation, creativity, spontaneity is of vital importance. If we are correct in claiming
that the two allegories provide us with quite different meanings
of what is philosophy, then it would seem to follow, in the
opinion of this writer, that it is quite inadequate for Christian
theology to employ what are the philosophical implications of
the allegory of Zarathustra and still remain faithful to the essential elements of the Christian tradition.
It would likewise seem to follow that the language of liberation in the mouth of the Christian must presuppose some understanding of a transcendent God, and that it is equally inadequate to say that such a Reality is to be denied objective status,
but emerges and is to be found within the realm of the subjective exclusively. An implication of the allegory of Plato is
that if truth is to be discovered by reason, then movement from
the cave to the light is a very personal endeavor. Both the
love of, and some degree of knowledge of, the light must be
appropriated by the subject if there is to be human fulfillment.
But that is a quite different matter, as we have seen, from the
position of Nietzsche, exemplified by Zarathustra, who creates
his own truth, and very consciously rejects all forms of objec-

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tivity. As a variation on a Zarathustran theme, religious education will be seen as the creation of the self,22 in the continuous
rejection and overcoming of tradition. If truth lies ultimately
within the subject then the role of the educator consists in
serving the purposes of the self. It is not possible, in this context, to use any language about God. Rather, education is
concerned with the expressions of the creative self in some personal relationship to other creative selves.
If, as we suggest, Christian theology must resist any such
radicalization of historical existence, then at some point in its
theology it would seem imperative to speak of a transcendent
and objective God. The traditions of Christianity would thus
seem to be indispensable to contemporary theology. In its finest
expressions, this Christian tradition. has always spoken of an
integration between the sacred and the secular. To separate
the two entirely would seem to be at variance with both Augustine and Aquinas. But, needless to say, an authentic expression
of the tradition does not entail any claim to a total possession
of truth about God, and therefore authoritarianism would seem
to be a perversion of the tradition. The allegory of the cave
does not lend itself to any form of dogmatism, that is to say,
to any equation of one's opinion with truth, for man in the cave
can but perceive dimly and with a good deal of imprecision
among the shadows of earthly existence. But to presuppose the
truth means that one is constantly ·engaged in life in a search
for the truth, and this is the task of education.
At the same time, to claim once more that faith and reason
must be seen as compatible is to claim that reason involves us
in the search, inquiry, discovery and integration of truth into
human experience, in a manner never fully achieved in this life.
A central issue would seem therefore to be whether one seeks
u Nietzsche grudgingly finds for traditional Christian institutions a very subsidiary role. They continue to offer shelter and security to those who are incapable
of finding within themselves the will (power) which makes true individuality pos·
sible. Within this minor role, traditional faith is no longer the highest expression
of the human soul, but synonymous with human weakness.

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truth by reason, or whether truth is created by each self, or
community of selves, and coincides with one's historical horizon or perspective. In the latter case, truth is quite relative
to the time and culture of history, whilst in the former case,
a historical being has a relative understanding of truth which
ultimately transcends human understanding. Truth in this context is permanent, and human understanding is limited. Given
this· philosophical 'stand-off,' one suspects that the Christian
tradition will find itself at variance with much of social science,
which for the most part, particularly in its precursors Weber
and Durkheim, adopts a historical view of society, and at the
same time, engages in a thorough critique of knowledge-perhaps in much the same vein as did natural science during the
nineteenth century.
On examining what are the philosophical presuppositions
and the basis of social science, one finds not only a deep commitment to a thoroughly historical view of existence, but also
that sense of ' new beginning ' in our age, which is derived from
the historical view. The age of metaphysics is generally seen as
part of a past age, a defunct society. If man is to be' religious'
in a modern sense, then he must ' confront the traditions ' (P.
Berger), he must find a sense of 'religious' from within (cf.
Luckmann'.s Invisible Religion). But at the same time, as we
have seen in the case of Zarathustra, this' religious' dimension
can be achieved only by ' resenting ' and finally overcoming
traditional Christianity. It is achieved, and is part of, the establishing of man as master in his world. Religious attitudes may
be in, but language of, and the claim to know, God is clearly
to be eliminated.
If these severe philosophical difficulties are recognized by
those of us within the Christian tradition, one must hasten to
add that the current confrontation does not allow one to revert
to a comfortable smugness which acts on the assumption that
in our institutions we Christians are the proud possessors of the
truth, and that intellectual inertia is now possible. This point
of pride is perhaps where Christian education has in the past

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MICHAEL QUIGLEY

been prone to move, and in so doing has short-circuited the
educational process of enquiry and discovery of truth. The
impetus of the Platonic allegory is that the life of virtue must
be vigorously pursued throughout life. The Christian tradition
provides one with the assurance (perhaps not the scientific
' proof ') that virtue and truth are to be found and that human
fulfillment is bound up with its pursuit. In this sense, man
is indeed responsible for truth. His very fulfillment as a human
being is dependent upon it, and upon his own effort to discover truth, aided of course, and empowered by, the grace of
Gld.
However, the danger today, in both Christian theology and
education, would seem to lie not in any continued passivity
or in some form of dogmatism, but in the rejection of the whole
tradition in preference for a thoroughly human mastery over
the world. It is a situation which C. S. Lewis aptly described
several years ago in terms of God now being in the dock, and
having to justify his ways before the bar of human (scientific?)
opinion. Something of this danger was sensed also at Vatican
Council II. While recognizing the great strength of human
culture, it was also recognized that:
Thinking that they have found serenity in an interpretation of
reality everywhere proposed these days, many look forward to a
genuine and total emancipation of humanity wrought solely by
human effort.28

The same Pastoral Constitution goes on to re-affirm that man
begins his pursuit of truth on the basis of reason, and that " his
intelligence is not confined to observable data alone." 24
Difficult as it may be in a society born to doubt and skepticism, it would appear that the Christian tradition and its educational processes are committed to the language of assurance
and confidence concerning man's fulfillment, a confidence derived not from the assertion of human autonomy and mastery
91 Pastoral Constitution on The Church in the Modem World in The Documents of Vatican 11, (ed.) W. M. Abbott, Guild Press, N. Y., (1966), p. i08.
•• Ibid, p. us.

RELIGIOUS TRUTH:

PLATO OR NIETZSCHE

647

over the world, but from the assurance which the servant has
in the exercise of his stewardship and responsibilities in the
world. It is a confidence derived from the knowledge, but not
the exclusive possession, of transcendent truth that is to be
found in the shadows of this world.
In establishing in our own minds what constitutes for us in
Christian education an understanding of religious education
with which Christian faith is philosophically compatible, an
important touchstone would seem to be bound up with our answer to the question: Is philosophy (the pursuit of truth by
reason) possible in our scientific society? If this question is
answered affirmatively, then we operate from the basis that
truth transcends both human understanding and society.
If: on the other hand, we conclude that philosophy in this
traditional sense is no longer possible, and that reason is no
longer the guiding-light of human understanding, then on what
human basis do we as Christians attempt to base our theism? Some current trends in theology would seem to prefer
to answer in terms of human experience understood exclusively
in an inter-personal or inter-subjective sense. Not reason, but
will and affections form the basis of meaning and values. It is
here that we are confronted by Zarathustra. Establishing historical will and affections as the basis of values at the expense
of reason does not provide us with sufficient ground for belief
in a transcendent Reality. 25 We can but believe in our own
act of transcendence. To say that God is experienced in this
96 I suspect that this issue was a major concern also to Karl Barth, who was
very much aware that, in liberal theology after Schleiermacher, the conclusions
of L. Feuerbach were made possible by theology's move away from the transcendent
objective nature of God. Barth, of course, was unable to move towards natural
theology, and found his answer in rigorously establishing the 'infinite qualitative
difference ' between God and man. Barth's solution is beyond the framework of
our discussion here, but nevertheless the theology of K. Barth remains a constant
thorn in the side of that sort of Christian theology which would wish to eradicate
any language or understanding of a transcendent Deity. Cf. K. Barth: From
Rouaseau to Ritachl; Protest;ant Thought in the 19th Century, London, (1959);
also Barth's Introductory Essay in L. Feuerbach's The Esaence of Chriatianity,
translated by G. Eliot, Harper, N. Y., (1957).

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MICHAEL QUIGLEY

act of transcendence remains an assertion without any philosophical foundation, as the allegory of Zarathustra hauntingly
shows. Theism is thus reducible to one's own assertion, but
then there can be no distinction between Jesus and Zarathustra,
between Christ and anti-Christ. It is then with respect and gratitude that the Christian educator can employ some of the insights of social science into the social reality of religion, for
both theology and social science are deeply concerned about
the humanization of the world. Unfortunately, the great divide
between the two traditions seems to center on the cause of
dehumanization. The Christian tradition generally believes that
man is dehumanized when he and his society reject the pursuit
of transcendent ideals. The historical view generally holds that
man is dehumanized because he has pursued such ideals and
continues to do so at a time when society has changed.
Hence, it is with the greatest misgivings that one would
see traditional philosophy vanquished and replaced by a new
kind of basis for Christian theology and Christian education.
MICHAEL QUIGLEY

Rivier College
Nashua, New Hampshire

PRAETER INTENTIONEM

IN AQUINAS

H

ENRY SIDGWICK MAINTAINED that one must
intend the foreseen consequences of acts. 1 More recent philosophers have asserted propositions about
intention which are in agreement with Sidgwick's view at least
to the extent of denying the possibility that the foreseen consequences of one's act can be separated from one's overall intention in acting. 2 On such views one cannot distinguish between
those foreseen consequences of one's acts which are intended
and those which are not intended but "merely consented to "
or, as scholastic philosophers and theologians often say, " permitted." 8
A number of philosophers have taken issue with views of intention having this implication. 4 And philosophers sympathetic
to the scholastic tradition are likely to share this scepticism. 5
The doctrine of the double effect presupposes at least this: that
one can direct his intention to the good effect of his action
and withhold it from the bad effect if the latter is not a means
Henry Sidgwick, The Metlwds of Ethics (7th ed., New York: 1966), p. 202.
•See Roderick M. Chisholm, "The Structure of Intention," The Journal of
Phuosophy, 67 (1970), pp. 636-637, and Hector-Neri Castaneda, "Intentions and
the Structure of Intention," The Journal, of Phuosophy, 68 (1971) pp. 456-459.
• See Chisholm, op. cit., pp. 639-641.
•See G. E. M. Anscombe, Intention (2nd ed., Ithaca: 1963), pp. 41-45, and
"Modern Moral Philosophy," in J. J. Thomson and G. Dworkin, eds., Ethics, (New
York: 1968), pp. 199-200; J. L. Austin, "Three Ways of Spilling Ink" in Phuosophical Papers, ed. by J. O. Urmson and G. J. Warnock (2nd edition, London, Oxford, New York: 1970) pp. 278-279; A. Kenny, "Intention and Purpose, "The
Journal of Phuosophy, 63 (1966), pp. 642-651; B. N. Fleming, "On Intention," The
Philosophical Review, 73 (1964), pp. 307-310. G. Pitcher, "'In Intending' and
Side Effects," The Journal of Phuosophy, 67 (1970) pp. 663-668. J. M. Boyle Jr.
and T. D. Sullivan, "The Diffusiveness of Intention Principle: A CounterExample," Philosophical Studies, 31 (1977) pp. 357-360.
•See Anscombe's response to Sidgwick in "Modem Moral Philosophy," pp.
199-200.
1

649

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JOSEPH M. BOYLE, JR.

to the former.8 0£ course, this notion of "direction of intention ,, is open to abuses 1 and it has itself been the subject of
criticism (and abuse) since the seventeenth century. 8
This controversy over one aspect of the nature of intention
raises three important questions: 1) Is it possible to distinguish
between what the agent intends in acting and what he foresees
If we can
will follow from his acting but does not intend?
make such a distinction, where is it to be drawn? What components of all that comes about by one's acts and decisions are
such that they can be outside one's intention? 8) And why
should the difference between what one intends and what one
foresees but does not intend be important for the definition and
moral evaluation of kinds of human acts?
This third question requires a long answer; I will set it aside
and concentrate on the first two. I propose to begin to answer
these questions by considering Aquinas's views on what is intended and what is outside or beside the intention-on what
Aquinas calls " praeter intentionem." Such an investigation is
a promising starting point for several reasons, among which
is the fact that Aquinas is one of the chief architects of the tradition in which the doctrine of direction of intention was developed.9
On what is within the agent' 8 intention

According to Aquinas intention is an act of the will whose
object is the end. But intention is not a simple willing of the
end; it is a willing of the end insofar as the end is " the term
• See A. Kenny, " The History of Intention in Ethics," The Anatomy of the
Soul, (Oxford, New York: 1978) pp. 140-141; J. B. Gury, S. J., Compendium Theologiae Moralis, Vol. 1 (!rod ed. Rome, Turin: 1869), p. 7.
•See G. E. M. Anseombe, "War and Murder," in R. Wasserstrom, ed., War
and Morality (Belmont, Calif.: 1970), pp. 50-51, and John C. Ford, S. J., "The
Morality of Obliteration Bombing," in ibid., pp. 26-29.
8 See Paseal, " Letter VII," Provincial Letters, and more recently, Stanley Windass
" Double Think and Double Effect," Blackfriars, 44 (1968), pp. 257-266.
•See Kenny, ibid., and Joseph Mangan, S. J., "An Historical Analysis of the
Principle of Double Effect," Theological Studies, 10 (1949), pp. 41-61.

" PRAETER INTENTION " IN AQUINAS

651

of something ordered to it," 10 that is, " insofar as the means
are terminated in the end." 11 Thus, " we are not said to intend
health because we will it but because we will to arrive at it
through something else." 12 The very nature of intention, therefore, requires that the agent intend the end he has in acting.
But what about the means one chooses to achieve his end? Are
one's chosen means praeter intentionem or are they within one's
intention? Since something can be within the intention in at
least two ways-that is, either as the object of an act of intention or as something to which this object is essentially relatedit is necessary to resolve this question into two questions. Is
the means chosen by an agent an object of his intention? And,
is the means chosen by the agent related to his intended end
in such a way that it must be included in his intention of this
end?
Aquinas says various things which suggest that the means
as such is not the object of an act of intention. First of all, he
contrasts the intending of the end with the willing of the means
in various places.13 Secondly, the means are the object of
choice 14 and since choice involves a comparison of the various
alternative means among themselves and not in their order to
the end,15 it does not seem that the means as such is an object
of an act of intention. Indeed such an act is presupposed: one
chooses a means because of its relation to one's intended end,
but this intention has the end as its object. The selection of a
means requires comparison among available means; this act
S. T. 1-Il, 12, 1, ad 4.
De Veritate q. 22, a. 14. See also In II SentJ., dist. 88, q., 1, a. 8; De Veritate
q. 22, a. 18, c and ad 16.; S. T. I-IT, 12, 2; Odo Lottin, " L'intcntion morale de
Pierre Abelard a St. Thomas d'Aquin," in Psyckologie et Morale Aux Xlle et Xllle
Siecles, Tome IV (Louvain: 1954), pp. 462, 471; Kenny, ibid., p. 188.
12 S. T. I-II, 12, 1 ad 4.
18 See S. T. I-II, 12, 1 ad 4 and 12, 4; De Veritate q. 22, a. 14.
u S. T. I-II, 18.
16 De Yeritate q. 22, a. 18 ad 16:
diccndum quod intentio est actus voluntatis
in ordine ad rationem ordinantem ea quae sunt ad finern in finern ipsum; sed electio
est actus voluntatis in ordine ad rationem comparantem ea quae sunt ad finem
ad invicem.
10

11

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JOSEPH M. BOYLE, JR.

clearly has the means as its object but it is an act of choice and
not of intention. 16
However, there is evidence that for Aquinas the object of
an act which is chosen as a means very often becomes an end and
as such the object of an intention. Three textual considerations
show this.
First, Aquinas argues that one may intend not only the ultimate end but also intermediate ends. One intends the end insofar as it is a term of the motion of the will. " Term " may
be taken in two ways: as an ultimate term and " as something
in between which is the starting point of one part of the motion
and the end or term of another. Thus in the motion whereby
one goes from A to C through B, C is the ultimate term, but
B is a term though not an ultimate term. And there can be intention of both." 17 Aquinas's use of the analogy of motion does
not seem to exclude that which has been chosen as a means
from being the " something in between " 18 exemplified by point
B. Insofar as B is chosen as one among a set of alternative
ways of getting from A to C, it is a means.
Second, there are various texts in which objects are said to
be intended which could not be ultimate ends and which are
very often chosen as means. Aquinas argues that it is possible
to intend two things at once. One of the ways in which this is
possible arises when the two intended objects are related to one
another. After referring to S. T. I-II, rn, 2, the text just discussed, he says: " However someone intends at the same time
both the proximate and the ultimate end, as (when he intends)
both medicine and health." 19 Clearly, the use of medicine is
not only intended as an intermediate end but also chosen a
means.
16 De V eritate q. 22, a. 15 shows this difference of objects:
" sed eligere
est actus voluntatis, secundum quod ratio proponit ei bonum ut utilius ad finem.
Intendere vero secundum quod ratio proponit ei bonum ut finem consequendum
ex eo quod est ad finem."
17 S. T. I-II, 12,
18 " aliquod medium "
S. T. I-II, 12, 8: "sicut confectionem medicinae, et sanitatem.''

"PRAETER INTENTION" IN AQUINAS

658

In discussing active, per se scandal Aquinas points out that
stealing and homicide are specific sins on account of the specific
harm to one's neighbor which is intended. Likewise in the case
of scandal in which one does something sinful with the intention
of leading another into sin.20 Similarly, in the case of lying;
one is formally a liar when he speaks what is false with the intention of deceiving.21 In general, it is the intended object
which defines the species of a sin.22 The relevant point is that
these objects which clearly are intended are not ultimate ends
but rather proximate ends which in many cases have also been
chosen as means.
Third, the object of the external act which must be brought
about-at least in many cases-if the choice of the means is
to be effective stands to the will as a quasi-end 23 which must
be intended by one who intends to perform such an act. 24 This
object, which must be brought about if there is to be an external
act, is identical with the means chosen except that in the former
case it is a state of affairs to be realized in the world outside
one's choices whereas in the latter it is a state of affairs selected
from among alternatives as more useful for achieving one's intended end.
In sum: the means insofar as it is the object of choice is
not the object of intention. But an act which has been chosen
as a means is often also an end and so far forth is intended.
Thus, it does not follow from the fact that an act has been
chosen as a means that its object is not the object of an intention.
Furthermore, the object of an act of choice, just as such,
is within the intention and cannot be praeter intentionem because intention bears on the end insofar as it can be achieved
by certain means. The intention not only provides the reason
•o S. T. II-II 48, 8; see also I-II 78, 8 ad 8.

S. T. II-II 100, 1; see also I-II 72, 8 ad 2.
Discussed below pp. 662-68, notes 50-52.
••See S. T. I-II 20, 4; 72, S ad 2.
•• S. T. I-II 78, 8 ad 1.

11
22

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JOSEPH M. BOYLE, .JR.

for the choice of the means; by its very nature it includes reference to such a choice. Moreover, what is praeter intentionem
lacks an order to the end. 25 The means necessarily involve such
an order. They are by their very nature propter finem. Finally,
the connection between the intention of the end and the choice
of the means is so intimate that the will can intend the end
and will the means by a numerically identical act. " For when
I say: ' I will medicine on account of health,' I designate only
one motion of the will. The reason for which is the fact that
the end is the reason for willing the means." 26
There is, however, a text which appears to contradict this
conclusion. In Summa Oontra Gentiles 3, 6 Aquinas answers
an objection to the effect that evil cannot be praeter intentionem, since, if it were, willful sins would not be voluntary. 21
He responds by saying that although evil is praeter intentionem,
it is nevertheless voluntary-but not per se. His explanation
is as follows:
For intention is of the ultimate end which someone wills on its
own account: but there is also a willing of that which someone
wills on account of something else, even if he does not will it simplieiter: thus he who throws merchandise into the sea for safety's
sake does not intend the throwing over of the merchandise but
safety; he does not will the throwing over simpliciter but for the
sake of safety. Similarly someone wills to do an inordinate act on
account of the pursuit of some sensible good, not intending the
inordinateness and not willing it simpliciter but on account of the
pursuit of the sensible good.28
25 See In IV Sent.
4, q. 1, a. l ad 2: " •.. quae praeter intcntionem accidunt
carent ordine ad finem." See also S. T. I-II, 102, 1: " ... ea enim quae casu
eveniunt praeter intentionem finis, vel quae non serio fiunt sed ludo, dicimus esse
inordinata."
.. S. T. I-II 12, 4; see also De Veritate q. 22, a. 14.
11 S. O. G. 8, 5.
•• S. C. G. 8, 6. " Intentio enim est ultimi finis quern quis propter se vult:
voluntas autem est ejus etiam quod quis vult propter aliud, etiam si simpliciter
non vellet; sicut qui projicit merces in mari causa salutis, non intendit projectionem
mercium, sed salutem; projectionem autem vult non simpliciter sed causa salutis.
Similiter propter aliquod bonum sensibile consequendum aliquis vult facere inordinatem actionem non intendens inordinationem, neque volens earn simpliciter

"PRAETER INTENTION" IN AQUINAS

655

It should be noted, first of all, that Aquinas's statement that
one intends only the ultimate end is inconsistent with his
teaching in De Veritate 22, 14 and S. T. I-II 12, 2. Secondly,
he does not say, although he does suggest, that the throwing
over is praeter intentionem. Rather he says that it is not intended. Thirdly, this example is complicated by the fact that
the throwing over is an unwanted means to one's end in the
sense that one would prefer not to have to choose it.
Perhaps Aquinas is simply using " intend " in a stricter and
narrower sense here than in the De V eritate and the Prima
Secundae; 29 if this is so there would seem to be no real contradiction in his overall teaching on intention.
Confusion will arise only if one overlooks the fact that " intention " is being used more broadly and " praeter intentionem "
more narrowly in S. C. G. 8, 6 than in other relevant texts.
Thus, in the broader sense of " intention " the throwing overboard of the merchandise is the object of an intention; it is
an end of sorts. One must aim to achieve it and might have
to struggle to achieve it or to use means to achieve it. Moreover, the throwing overboard is certainly a chosen means and
as such cannot be praeter intentionem in the broader sense of
the expression.
Nevertheless, it seems to me that the broader sense of " intention" and the narrower sense of " praeter intentionem" are to
be preferred. The comparison between the throwing over of
sed propter hoc." It appears that this is the only text in which Aquinas argues
this way. See Robertus Busa, S. J., Sancti Thomae Aquinati.a Operum Omnium
Indices et Concordantiae, Sectio II, Concordantia Prima, Vol. l!!, entry No. 42817/
02142 through 02885, pp. 244-!!46. Here are listed all 148 occurrences of the phrase
" praeter intentionem " in the Thomistic corpus. These citations make clear that
Aquinas consistently adheres to the Dionysian dictum that malum is praeter
tentionem; but only in S. C. G. 8, 6 does he suggest that he believes that what is
formally evil (and thus praeter intentionem) is the object of an act of choice.
se Mangan, op. cit., pp. 47-48, explains this text by supposing a development
in Aquinas's thought between the writing of S. C. G. 8, 6 and the writing of the
Prima Secundae, but the doctrine of S. T. I-II, 12, !! also appears in the earlier
De Veritate. I am, however, in agreement with and in debt to the substance or
Mangan's argument.

m-

656

JOSEPH M. BOYLE, JR.

the merchandise and the inordinateness of sin in S. C. G. 3, 6
is not illuminating and might be misleading. The two things
are related in very different ways to the agent's intention. The
throwing overboard is clearly a means to achieving safety. By
contrast the inordinateness of the sinful act is a property of
the act; it is not a means to bringing about an end. The sinful
act can be a means and its object is intended 30 but the inordinateness is not identical with or part of this object. In
general it does not seem that the inordinateness of a sinful act is
either intended as an end or, except in special cases, chosen
as a means. In short, the broader sense of praeter intentionem
articulated in S. C. G. 3, 6 prevents our distinguishing between
things bearing very different relations to the intention of the
agent.
Aquinas's discussion of intending evil in the Prima Secundae
is consistent with the view taken in criticizing S. C. G. 8, 6.
Moreover, it shows that one need not limit the object of intention to the ultimate end in order to preserve the truth of the
dionysian dictum that evil is praeter intentionem. Aquinas
says:
It should be said that evil cannot be intended for its own sake by
anyone; it can be intended in order to avoid another evil or to
pursue another good as has been said. And in such a case someone chooses to pursue a good which is per se intended without
avoiding harm to another good. Thus a lustful person wishes to
enjoy pleasure without offense to God; but given these two options
would rather incur an offense against God than be deprived of
pleasure. 31

If the sense of the first two sentences is understood in light
of Aquinas's example, they may be understood as follows: something may be intended such that if it is intended some evil will
be voluntarily brought about. This evil is not chosen as a
means but it is voluntarily brought about by one's preference
not to forego the good involved-and thus it may be said tQ
•1

S. T. I-II, 72, 8.
S. T. I-II, 78, 1 ad 2.

" PRAETER INTENTION " IN AQUINAS

657

be intended in some sense. But being intended in this sense is,
as we shall see, compatible with being praeter intentionem. 82
There is no need, therefore, for Aquinas to say that the throwing overboard of the merchandise is praeter intentionem, since
the evil of that act is praeter intentionem even though the
choice of this means falls under the agent's intention. As in
the case of sin where the object of the act is intended and the
inordinateness of the act is praeter intentionem, so in the case
of a bad or unpleasant choice-the state of affairs chosen must
fall within the agent's intention but the privation which renders
this state of affairs evil is praeter intentionem. 38
To sum up this section: the agent intends the end of his
action; he does not intend the means as such. But in many
human acts that which is chosen as a means is also intended
as an end. Moreover, the means are intimately connected with
the intended ends in such a way that one's chosen means cannot
be praeter intentionem. Both ends of actions and means to
these ends are within the agent's intention.

On What is outside the Agent's Intention
Perhaps the best known text in which Aquinas claims that
an effect of an act falls outside the agent's intention is his discussion of killing in self-defense. Such an act is justified under
certain circumstances only if the assailant's death is praeter
intentionem.
It should be said that nothing prevents a single act from having
two effects of which only one may be intended while the other,
indeed, may be praeter intentionem. Moral acts receive their
species from what is intended and not from what is praeter intentionem since this is per accidens as is clear from what has been
said above. Therefore, from an act of someone defending himself
a double effect can follow; one, indeed, the conservation of one's
own life, the other the killing of the assailant. 84
••See below pp. 659-60 and materials cited in notes 40-42.
••See De Malo q. 1, a. S.
•• S. T. II-II 64, 7.

658

JOSEPH M. BOYLE, JR.

Several observations are in order before drawing any conclusions from this text.
First, the effect of the assailant's being killed appears to be
a foreseen and predictable consequence of the type of act of
self-defense being considered. The use of" quandoque" to describe the frequency of the deadly consequence's following from
an act of self-defense suggests that the assailant's death is not
a natural and totally predictable consequence of the defensive
act as such.35 But there appear to be types of self-defense in
which the use of the minimum force needed to preserve one's
life 86 does have the assailant's death as a natural and certainly
foreseeable consequence.
At this point an objection may arise along the following lines.
What follows naturally or for the most part from a certain act
seems too closely united to the act to be separable from the
intention of the agent in performing that act. At least one
Thomistic text may seem to support this view; in commenting
on Chapter 5 of Book II of Aristotle's Physks, Aquinas says:
For what always or frequently is joined to an effe.ct falls under the
same intention. It is foolish to say that someone intends something
and does not will that which is frequently or always joined to it. 87

But this text does not give support to the objection just
stated; it does not show that what is praeter intentionem must
be an infrequent or accidental concomitant of an act. The context of this quote makes this clear; this context is the discussion of the distinction between per se and per accidens effects.
The sentences preceding those quoted are as follows: " Hence
whatever takes place in the effect outside the intention is per
accidens. And I affirm this if that which is outside the intention
follows in few cases." 88 These sentences make clear that what
is praeter intenticmem is not identical with what accompanies
""Ad4.
••This is stated to be another requirement for the moral justification of a
deadly act of self-defense.
81 In Octo Libros Physicorum Ariatotelis Expositio, lib.
loot. VIII (par. 8);
see also lect. XII, (par. !t).
••Ibid.

" PRAETER INTENTION " IN AQUINAS

659

an effect infrequently or accidentally, a point Aquinas makes
elsewhere.89 The condition on which Aquinas affirms his acceptance of the first sentence would not be required if what is
praeter intenticmem were thus understood. Thus what falls
under the intention and is therefore inseparable from what is
intended can be praeter intentionem.
My interpretation of this text is confirmed by a passage in
De Malo which makes the same point in different terminology.
. . . it should be said that sometimes an accidental effect is joined
to it in few cases and rarely (ut in paucioribus et raro) ; and then
the agent need not intend in any way the accidental effect while
he intends the effect per se. But sometimes an accident of this type
is attached either always or for the most part to the effect which
is principally intended; and then the accident cannot be separated
from the intention of the agent. If, therefore, something evil is
joined only infrequently to the good which is intended, it is possible to be excused from sin; for example if someone cutting down
a tree in a forest where people rarely pass, kills a person by cutting
down the tree. But if the evil is joined either always or for the
most part to the good which is intended per s-e, one is not excused
from sin although he does not pe1' se intend this evil.46

This text seems to be based on the same insight as the text
from In II Physics; the effects which follow always or for the
most part cannot be separated from one's intention. But,
•• S. C. G. 8, 6; "sciendum est quod non omne quod est praeter intentionem
oportet esse fortuitum vel casuale, ut prima ratio proponebat. Si enim quod est praeter
intentionem sit consequens ad id quod est intentum vel semper vel frequenter ... ,
non erit fortuitum nee casuale; esset autem casuale, si sequeretur ut in paucioribus."
The use of this text is not meant to suggest that Aquinas does not often identify
what is fortuitous and accidental with what is praeter intentionem. Indeed, his
most frequent use of the phrase "praeter mtentionem " is in this connection.
See Sancti Thomae Aquinati-8 Operum Omnium Indices et Concordantiae, loc. cit.
But Aquinas is not using what is casuale, fortuitum or per accidens to define what
is praeter intenticmem; it is rather the other way around. So this text from S. C. G.
8, 6 is not inconsistent with his common usage. The discussion in Jn Octo Libro1
Physicorum Am.toteli-8 Expositio lib. 2, lect. XIII (par. 2) which appears to
contradict this interpretation is limited to the teleology of nature and is, therefore,
not relevant.
••De Mal,o I, 8 ad 15. See also In Decem Libro1 Ethicorum Amtotelis ad
Nichomackum, lib. 2, lect. 12, # 512, for a similar analysis without reference to
intention.

660

JOSEPH M. BOYLE, JR.

Aquinas says, they are not per se intended. They are treated
throughout as accidental effects; and accidental effects are
defined in the body of this article as what are outside the agent's
intention. 41 Presumably we could say that they are intended
per acci<lens. Elsewhere Aquinas identifies what is related per
accidens to the agent's intention and what is praeter intentionem.42
In sum, we can distinguish what is per se intended and what
is per accidens intended. And we can distinguish two kinds of
accidental effects: those which follow rarely and those which
follow always or for the most part. The former are not intended
in any way. The latter, although they are not per se intended
and thus can be called praeter intentionem, cannot be separated
from the agent's intention; he must, in the language of In II
Physics, will them. In any case, the objection fails: the death
of the attacker is praeter intentionem even though it can be
foreseen with certainty to follow; it is not per se intended. This
is not to deny that in some sense it cannot be separated from
the agent's intention, or that it is per accidens intended or that
it is in some sense willed by him.
A second observation on S. T. II-II 64, 7 is necessary; the
killing of the assailant is not, in the case Aquinas is considering,
the means used by a person defending himself .48 It is not, in
other words, praeter intentionem in the way that the throwing
over of the merchandise was suggested to be in S. G. G. S, 6.
This is not to say that one cannot intend to kill someone as a
means to saving one's life. In fact, Aquinas makes use of this
possibility to save St. Augustine's prohibition of killing in selfdefense. St. Augustine, he says, regarded as sinful that case in
which" someone intends to kill a man in order to free himself
from death." 44 So Aquinas admits that the killing of another
41 De Milo 1, S c at the beginning. This is a common identification; see Sancti
'1.'homae Aquinatis Operum Omnium Indices et Concordantiae, loc cit.
I;
8, and 78, I ad
•• See S. T. I-II
48 This has been a controverted question; for bibliography and discussion see
Mangan, op. citi., pp. 44-49.
••Ad I.

" PRAETER INTENTION " IN AQUINAS

661

may be within the intention (presumably as a means) but contrasts it with the kind of deadly self-defense which can be
morally justified. 45 This contrast seems to imply that Aquinas
regards the killing which he here calls praeter intentionem not
as a means but as a consequence of the act of self-defenseas "what follows from the necessity of the end" in Cajetan's
language.
Besides this contrast with the kind of lethal self-defense proscribed by St. Augustine, Aquinas contrasts the killing which
is praeter intentionem in some types of self-defense with killing
by someone in a public capacity who "intending to kill a man
for his own self-defense, refers it to the common good." He
gives examples of the soldier fighting against enemies and the
officer of the law fighting a thief. 46 This contrast presupposes
that the death of the attacker is not a means in those cases
where Aquinas regards it as praeter intentionem, as it is in
those cases where it is intended. 47 Finally, in addition to this textual evidence, it seems reasonable that the death of the attacker need not be what saves the
life of one defending himself. One can defend his life by insuring that the assailant, being dead, can threaten no more;
in this case the death is a means. But one can attempt to
thwart the attack in such a way that the assailant's death is
not what ends the threat, but is rather a consequence of what
stops the attack. In such a case one is not saved because the
assailant is dead but the assailant dies because one has stopped
the attack.
•• Cajetan in his commentary on S. T. II-II 64, 7 which accompanies it in the
Leonine edition makes this distinction clearly: "lntellige bene distinctionem
litterae, scilicet quod dupliciter potest referri occisio alterius ad conservationem
vitae propriae: primo, ut medium ad finem; secundo, ut consequens ex necessitate
finis. Et ut in littera dicitur, multum interest altero modo se habere. Nam et
finis et medium ad finem cadunt sub intentione; ut patet in medico, qui intendit
sanitatem per potionem vel diaetam. Id autem quod consequitur ex necessitate
:finis non cadit sub intentione, sed praeter intentionem · existens emergit: ut patet
de debilitatione aegroti quae sequitur ex medicina sanante."
•• S. T. II-II 64, 7c.
• 1 This point is made by Mangan, op. cit., pp. 48-49, and suggested by Cajetan's
comments on S. T. II-II 64, 7.

662

JOSEPH M. BOYLE, JR,

It seems possible to generalize from this case. The death is
a foreseen causal consequence of the act of self-defense; in many
cases it is an immediate and natural consequence; but it is
paeter intentionem. Can we say, therefore, that any causal
consequence of an act is such that if it is not one's end or one's
means then it can be paeter intentionem? I think that such a
generalization is warranted for several reasons.
First, there are several texts in which Aquinas distinguishes
what is foreseen and what is intended. In discussing whether
the gravity of a sin is increased by greater harm, he distinguishes between harm which is neither foreseen nor intended,
harm which is foreseen but not intended, and harm which is
both foreseen and intended. His example of harm which is foreseen but not intended is a case of someone who crosses a field
in order to fornicate. This person causes harm to what is
growing in the field " knowingly but not with a mind for
harm."
Such a consequence is--or could be-a natural and
totally predictable effect of crossing the field and yet it can be
paeter intentionem. Similarly, Aquinas says that " one who
goes to the market in order to eat, either always or most of the
time finds a multitude of people although he does not intend
this." 49
Second, Aquinas's account of the relation between what is
intended and what is praeter intentionem in sinful acts makes
use of a distinction between what is intended and what is foreseen. There are two components in the notion of sin according
to Aquinas: first, there is the voluntary act, and second, there
is the inordinateness of the sin. Of these, Aquinas says, the first
is related per se to the sinner, the second per acddens. The sinner intends the first but not the second, which " is related per
4()

'"S. T. I-II 78, S. The quoted section translates "scienter licet non. animo
nocendi."
••De Malo 1, 8 ad 17. Other predictable consequences of acts which Aquinas
says are praeter intentionem _are the harm to one's body which sometimes follows
the sin of gluttony: De Malo 14, 2 ad 4; the corruption of the soul which follows
sin; In II Sent. dist. 85, q. 1, a. 5, ad 4; the punishment that follows sin: S. T. I-II
72, 5; 87, 1 ad l; and death and other defects which follow from sin: S. T. I-II 85, 5.

"PRAETER INTENTION" IN AQUINAS

668

aooidens to the intention of the sinner." 50 The sin gets its
species by the intention of the sinner.51 Several articles later
Aquinas says "the inordinateness of the sin is praeter intentionem peccantis, as was said above." 52 The reference no
doubt is to the earlier article where the inordinateness is said
to be per accidens related to the intention of the sinner.
The fact that the inordinateness of sin-a property of the sinful act and not a consequence of it 53-is praeter intentionem is
relevant to my argument because this property of sinful acts
is as closely or even more closely related to these acts than the
causal consequences of acts are to the acts. The inordinateness
of the sinful act always accompanies the act, 54 but it is distinct
from the intelligibility of the intended end.
It should be noted that my use of the fact that the inordinateness of sin is praeter intentionem to support my view that foreseen consequences can be praeter intentionem is not a misuse
of disparate teachings on unrelated subjects having nothing in
common except the fact that both are cases of what is praeter
intentionem. Aquinas himself uses an example of a case in
which a causal consequence is praeter intentionem to illustrate
a case in which the evil is not intended-and in particular, a
case in which the evil of the sin of adultery is praeter intentionem.55
Third, there is nothing about the nature of intention which
requires that one intend those effects which follow from one's
autem, scilicet inordinatio actus, per accidens se
• 0 S. T. I-II 72, 1 "aliud
habet ad intentionem peccantis."
51 Ibid., see also S. T. I-II 109, 2 ad 2, and ill 88, 4.
•• S. T. I-II 72, 8; see also 75, 1. Aquinas also states that the sinner's turning
away from the ultimate end is praeter intentionem; In II Sent. dist. 84, q. 1, a. S;
and that the aversio involved in sin is praeter intentionem; Quall8tiones Quodlibetales VI, q. 9, a. 2.
••See Alvin Goldman, A Theory of Human Action (Englewood Cliffs, N. J.:
1970) pp. 25-26, for an account of this relation. He calls it " conventional generation."
"'See De Malo 1, Sad 17.
•• De Malo 1, S. The case Aquinas uses as the illustration here is his frequently
used example of the gravedigger's finding treasure while digging the grave. The
finding of the treasure is praeter mtentionem.

664

JOSEPH M. BOYLE, JR.

end. Intention is an act of the will bearing on the end insofar
as it is the term of something ordered to it, namely, the means.
The causal consequences of an intended act appear to have no
position in this ordering relationship. They are clearly not
means to the realization of the object of this act; they are not
chosen in order to bring about the object, but arise from its
realization. Moreover, there is no reason to think they must
be a part of this object. This object is the state of affairs which
the means are meant to bring about, and this state of affairs
cannot be an indeterminate set of predictable causal sequences
but a definite state of affafrs recognized to be good.56 Not all
that one sees will come about by his action can be part of the
good he aims to realize in that action. Some consequences are
a matter of practical indifference; others do not contribute to
the good to be realized but instead detract from it. Such consequences cannot be part of the good which specifies the act of
intention. 57 In short what is neither ordered to the intended
end nor a part of the good which specifies this order does not
fall within the intention. The causal consequences, like many
other properties of acts, do not meet either of these conditions. 58
These last two considerations suggest a basis for distinguishing
between what is intended and what is praeter intentionem;
both the inordinateness of sin and the causal consequences of
acts can be outside the intention presumably because these
need not be part of what is, as such, proposed to the will as
good. They are not part of what the will tries to realize by the
choice of means. Presumably whatever is essentially connected
•• See De V eritate 8,
here Aquinas makes clear that even the concrete specification of an end which is required for it to be concretely realized can be praeter
intentionem: " si intentio alicujus agentis feratur ad aliquid unum tantum, praeter
intentionem cjus erit, et quasi casuale quidquid sequatur, quia accidit ei quid est
principaliter intentum ab eo; sicut si aliquis intenderet facere aliquod triangulatum,
praeter intentionem ejus esset quod esset magnum vel parvum."
••I owe the key points in this paragraph to Germain Grisez and the editorial
staff of The Thomist; I thank Grisez for help in criticizing earlier drafts of this
paper.
•a I cannot consider here the important question of the morality of bringing
about various states of affairs which are praeter intentionem.

" PRAETER INTENTION " IN AQUINAS

665

with this good or the will's resolve to achieve it will be within
the intention but whatever is not so related to this good will
be outside the intention.
In conclusion: St. Thomas holds that an agent intends both
the ends of his acts and whatever functions as an end. The
agent's chosen means are not as such intended. But they are
intimately related to the intention of the end and cannot be
praeter intentionem. However, whatever does not function as
an end of action or a means to the end can be praeter intentionem, even if it is a natural consequence or a property of what
is within the intention, if it can be separated from the goodness
of the end intended or the resolve to achieve that good. Thus,
we have Aquinas's answers to the first two questions I posed at
the outset of this paper: it is possible to distinguish what is
within the intention from what is foreseen but is not within the
intention and this distinction can be drawn at the point where
ends and means are separated from concomitants and nonessential properties of ends and means. 511
JOSEPH

M. BOYLE, JR.

College of St. Thomas
St. Paul, Minnesota

•• The research for this paper was supported by a College Teachers in Residence
Fellowship of the National Endowment for the Humanities.

DESCARTES, RATIONALITY AND GOD

I

T IS GENERALLY recognized that the relation between
Cartesian science and theology is the key to Cartesian
rationalism. Does Descartes's physics derive from a theological metaphysics or does the latter conform to the former?
Views on this matter have varied greatly. What has emerged
as the accepted interpretation regards Descartes's theology as
the core of his metaphysics, to which his rationalism is subordinate.1 The minority view, challenging what is known as
Descartes's "sincerity," insists that Cartesian science is autonomous and that the theology is an elaborate exercise in prudence.2 These views agree in that peaceful coexistence is not
possible; supremacy must be granted to either the rationalism
or the theology. A third view sees Descartes equally embracing
both and thereby failing to see their tension, i. e., that coexistence is attempted but at the price of inconsistency. 8 Most re1 Cf. L. J. Beck, The Metaphysics of Descartes (London, 1965), pp. 136-7:
"The argument of the Meditations is that when we know the nature of God,
any doubts we may have are legitimately set at rest. . . .this knowledge of God
is the apex of all Cartesian metaphysics and any attempt to interpret this metaphysics without this essential theology is a complete travesty of his views. Metaphysics is about God."
s Cf. H. Caton, "The Problem of Descartes' Sincerity," The Philosophical Forum
2 (1971), pp. 855-70. Caton concludes from an examination of the " Notes Against
a Programme " that Descartes's considered opinion is: " that when an author
confronts his readers with a contradiction between the laws of nature and Scripture, it may be inferred that he does not believe Scripture. . . . the basis of
this inference rule is Descartes's belief that in the event of a clash between reason
and faith, it is impossible not to give precedence to reason" (p. 866).
8 Cf. N. Kemp-Smith, Studies in the Philosophy of Descartes (London, 1900).
Commenting upon the voluntaristic theory of error in Medit. IV, Kemp-Smith expresses this tension as follows: " Being always careful to respect, even in minor
matters, the doctrines of the Church, he not only conforms to the theological doctrine of the freedom of the will in all its absoluteness, but insists on it in a way
that shows his conformity to be complete. To it he is ready to sacrifice his most
cherished convictions, even his rationalism " (p. 112) .

666

DESCARTES, RATIONALITY AND GOD

667

cently, Harry Frankfurt has urged that both coexistence and
consistency can be achieved. In "Descartes on the Creation
of the Eternal Truths " 4 Frankfurt argues that de.spite its absence from Descartes's publications the doctrine of the divine
creation of the eternal truths is indispensable to Descartes's
metaphysics and that Descartes consistently held to both his
rationalism and theology because there is in fact no conflictreason and revelation apply to separate and discontinuous
realms. Arguing primarily on the basis of unpublished texts,
Frankfurt claims that the theology of the creation of the eternal
truths testifies to a threefold bifurcation within Cartesian philosophy: 1) science and metaphysics concern distinct realms
reason and revelation are their equally legitimate
of truth,
respective modes of access, and 8) Descartes's epistemic conception of truth is one of coherence vs. correspondence, i.e.,
logical consistency rather than absolute knowledge of the nature of things. In this way Frankfurt seems to effect a compromise between the extremes of sincerity and insincerity. 5 The
purpose of the present discussion is to see whether such a mediation is possible. By considering aspects of Descartes's major
published work, the Meditations, in the light Frankfurt's analysis I hope to show that such a threefold bifurcation is unfaithful to Descartes's intentions, that the issue indeed comes down
to rationalism vs. theology and that in such a contest revelation
gives way to reason.
The Theological Problem
As early as M edit. I Descartes informs us that knowledge
both in the sciences (whose " firm and lasting foundations " the
Meditations is to provide) and in pure mathematics (i.e., the
eternal truths, who.se concretized form is the science of nature)
'H. Frankfurt, " Descartes on the Creation of the Eternal Truths," The Philosophical Review, LXXXVI, I (January 1977), pp. 86-57 (hereafter cited as "F ").
•Frankfurt's only explicit reference to the sincerity question is in a footnote
on p. 58; however, he refrains from discussing its link to the theory of the divine
creation of the eternal truths. This is a central question, whose r.esolution, I hope
to show, will demonstrate the implausibility of Frankfurt's account.

668

WALTER SOFFER

requires a theodicy. God is at once the gravest threat as well
as the most certain guarantee for the truths of reason. For
if God is evil reason is untrustworthy; if God is good reason
can be trusted. As Descartes puts it in M edit. I:
... how do I know that I am not deceived every time that I add
two and three, or count the sides of a square, or judge of things
yet simpler, if anything simpler can be imagined? But possibly God
has not desired that I should be thus deceived, for He is said to
be supremely good. If, however, it is contrary to His goodness to
have made me such that I constantly deceive myself, it would also
appear to be contrary to His goodness to permit me to be sometimes
deceived, and nevertheless I cannot doubt that He does permit this. 6

Reason is dubitable if God's power is in the service of an evil
will, for divine omnipotence does not entail divine beneficence.
God's goodness does not follow analytically from the concept
of God as do omnipotence and creativity, which is why separate
proofs must be given for. existence and goodness in M edit.
III and goodness is omitted as a divine attribute through the
first three Meditations. 7 The central theologicalproblemisthus
the reconciliation of divine power and goodness, so that a
theodicy meant to guarantee Cartesian science via a demonstration of God's veracity appears to be the surface project of the
Meditations. Frankfurt thinks otherwise, claiming that Descartes is concerned primarily with the problem of skepticism.
In his Demons, Dreamers and Madmen he states: " How Descartes' reasoning about reason is to be understood becomes
clearer when account is taken of the general nature of his enterprise in the Meditations. He is largely concerned with the
•Descartes, Meditations, in The Philosophical Works of Descartes, tr. E. S.
Haldane and G. R. T. Ross (London, 1969), Vol. I, p. 147 (hereafter cited
as "HR").
7 With respect to the dubitability
of divine goodness, " in order to be able
altogether to remove it, I must inquire whether there is a God as soon as· the
occasion presents itself; and if I find that there is a God, I must also inquire
whether He may be a deceiver; for without a knowledge of these two truths I
do not see that I can ever be certain of anything " (HR I, 159) . This dependency
of all reasoning upon God is reiterated in the Synopsis of Medit. V.

DESCARTES, RATIONALITY

AND GOD

669

problem of skepticism." 8 This is a strange claim in light of
Descartes's own remarks about the skeptics, the overriding theological problematic of the Meditations, his commentary on
the skeptical arguments in M edit. I, and remarks to Mersenne
about the true enemy of the work. In a letter to Hyperaspistes,
Descartes says of the skeptics that " It is only in name, and
perhaps in intention and resolve, that they adhere to their
heresy of doubting everything. . . . Certainly I have never
denied that the sceptics themselves, as long as they clearly
perceive some truth, spontaneously assent to it." 9 Descartes,
rightly or wrongly, regards skepticism as a pretense, not a
legitimate position or threat, because of its self-refuting character. Commenting on his apparent use of such argumentation
in Medit. I (the critique of the senses and the waking-dreaming
confusion), he explains that he "felt some disgust in serving
up again this stale dish " 10 but that it was in the service of
detaching the mind from the senses, i. e. in the service not of
seriously entertaining skepticism but of moving the search for
truth to a higher plane. The target of Descartes's project is not
skepticism but Aristotelianism. As he explains to Mersenne:
And I may tell you, between ourselves, that these six Meditations
contain all the foundations of my Physics. But please do not tell
people, for that might make it harder for supporters of Aristotle
to approve them. I hope that readers will gradually get used to
my principles, and recognize their truth, before they notice that
they destroy the principles of Aristotle. 11

The replacement of Aristotle is to be complete. Aristotle's
metaphysics a]J.d philosophy of nature must be superseded by
their Cartesian counterparts. The inseparability of physics
from metaphysics is as true for Descartes as it is for Aristotle.
We will return to this issue of the separability of physics from
H. Frankfurt, Demons, Dreamers and Madmen (New York, 1970), p. 174.
of August, 1641. In A. Kenny, Descartes: Philosophical Letters (London, 1970), p. 119 (hereafter cited as " K ").
10 Reply to Objections Il; HR II, SI.
11 Letter of January, 1641; K., 9!'l.
8

9 Letter

670

WALTER SOFFER

metaphysics below, as it is one of the points Frankfurt wishes
to establish. The surface plan of the Meditations is thus not
an attack upon the skeptics but a replacement of Aristotle by
means of a coincidence of a providential God and Cartesian
of the eternal
rationality whose expression is the
truths (metaphysics) to the study of nature (physics). In particular, divine goodness, which is questioned in M edit. I and
grappled with in the ensuing five Meditations, rather than
divine power, which is never questioned as such, becomes the
crux of the theodicy. When Frankfurt deals with God it is
in terms of the extent of God's power vis-a-vis human reason
(judging divine omnipotence as " incoherent") or the relation
of God's intellect to His will in creating the eternal truths, while
dismissing the notion of an evil God as inconceivable.
The issue of God's power, while a central problem, when
taken alone tends to misrepresent the heart of the contest between rationalism and theology. This concerns the apparent
victory of the cogito, whose certainty is the paradigm of clarity
and distinctness, over an all-powerful God at the beginning of
Medits. II and III. The supremacy of the oogito over omnipotent deception would render all controversies about divine
malevolence superfluous. It would likewise indicate a triumph
of rationalism over theology and the later theology of the Meditations could be dismissed as Cartesian insincerity. 12 In what
follows I hope to show that this judgment, while ultimately
sound, is premature if based on the contest between God and
the cogito in Medits. II and III.
Misleadingly, the issue does seem to reduce to rationalism
or skepticism if the question is solely that of power. Just prior
to the demand for proofs of God's existence and goodness in
M edit. III Descartes brings the problem sharply into focus:
'"G. Kruger is of this opinion concerning the cogito of Medit. II, stating that
" self-consciousness constitutes itself in defiance of all omnipotence. This is not
' Christian inwardness'; rather, here begins in philosophy as such the rebellion
against Christianity that we call Enlightenment." In " Die Herkunft des philosophischen Selbstbewusstscins,'' Logos, 22 (1933), p. 246. This passage is quoted
approvingly by H. Caton in The Origin of Subjectivity (New Haven, 1973), p. 125.

DESCARTES, RATIONALITY AND GOD

671

But every time that this preconceived opinion of the sovereign
power of a God presents itself to my thought, I am constrained
to confess that it is easy to Him, if He wishes it, to cause me to
err, even in matters in which I believe myself to have the best evidence. And, on the other hand, always when I direct my attention
to things which I believe myself to perceive very clearly, I am so
persuaded of their truth that I let myself break out into words
such as these: Let who will deceive me, He can never cause me to
be nothing while I think that I am, or some day cause it to be true
to say that I have never been, it being true now to say that I
am, or that two and three make more or less than five, or any
such thing in which I see a manifest contradiction.13
Taken by itself this passage suggests an either/or of skepticism
in the face of omnipotent deception about one's own existence
and the truths of mathematics and logic (for God can exercise
such power " if He wishes it ") or rationalism (because human
reason claims, justifiably or not, to defy such power). The
view of K. Dorter is that this passage clearly implies rationalism. He writes:
The doctrines are thus wholly incompatible-one making certitude
possible, the other making it impossible-and there seems to be
no way of resolving the dilemma without simply rejecting one of
the premisses. . .. Had the theological premiss been preferred, the
result could only have been skepticism. . .. reason must be given
precedence ... if skepticism is to be avoided.14
As Descartes makes plain in the sequel, what is needed is a
theodicy so that reliance upon human reason is not in defiance
of divine power but in accord with divine goodness, rendering
the judgment by Dorter in need of confirmation by the failure
of such a theodicy. While Dorter and others find this confirmation in the much discussed circularity, I intend to show this via
God's inscrutability, the same inscrutability Frankfurt sees as
the ground of the separate but equal statuses of reason and
revelation.
Frankfurt adopts the compatibilist position by showing that
1•

HR I, 158-9.

"K. Dorter, "Science and Religion in Descartes' Meditations," Tke Tlwmist,
XXXVII (1978), pp. SH-6.

67(t

WALTER SOFFER

the notion of an all-powerful deceiver is " incoherent," i. e, that
it exceeds the bounds of rationality, thereby leaving reason
intact and free from the threat of skepticism. In Demons,
Dreamers and Madmen, p. 175, he writes:
Descartes takes his task to be precisely to show that the skeptic's
reductio argument cannot be generated. He attempts this by
offering a proof that there is an omnipotent deity who is not a
deceiver and whose existence entails that reason is reliable ... that
there are no good reasons for believing that reason is unreliable-that the mistrust of reason is not supported by reason and that
it is accordingly irrational.

And this is because the evil genius, whose power and deceit
Frankfurt equates with those of God, is an unintelligible notion:
Descartes comes to recognize, moreover, that the demon hypothesis
is not itself coherent. Infinite power entails infinite goodness, he
observes, and the notion of an omnipotent being who is evil is
not an intelligible one. The demon hypothesis turns out to be selfcontradictory and thus it cannot serve as a good reason for skepticism" (p. 175) .

Though this is a bit hasty, we can ask at this point-if divine
omnipotence entails divine goodness why does not Frankfurt conclude that human reason is in accord with the divinely created
eternal truths? Frankfurt resorts to God's inscrutability to
separate reason from divinely created truth, hut in what does
God's inscrutability consist if it does not mean recalcitrance
to human reason, i. e. a malevolent if not questionable will in
creating truths inaccessible to human reason? Conversely, what
does God's goodness mean if not a divinely created harmony
between the eternal truths and human reason? Divine goodness and inscrutability cannot simultaneously be maintained,
though Frankfurt interprets this as Descartes's position.
In any case, as we have seen, Descartes's theology is designed
not to counter skepticism but to aid in overthrowing Aristotle
and the entailment which Frankfurt sees between divine
omnipotence and goodness is something that Descartes himself
states is in need of demonstration. Frankfurt's skeptical aporia
is thus illegitimate and his charge of incoherence seems to beg

DESCARTES, RATIONALITY AND GOD

673

the question since the rationality to be validated judges on the
meaning of such a validation. The " irrationality " of the threat
to human reason by the hypothesis of an all-powerful and evil
God cannot be " rationally " dismissed without reversing the
roles of God and man with respect to the creation and access to
truth. As Frankfurt himself points out in "Descartes on the
Creation of the Eternal Truths " the doctrine of divine inscrutability is the Cartesian response to the charge of incoherence, but while Frankfurt concludes from this that Descartes's
theology posits an ultimate unintelligibility at the seat of things
and a consequent separation of what is " first for us " and " first
by nature," we will maintain that the " first for us '' is also in
fact the" first by nature" according to Descartes, i.e. that reason renders faith superfluous because divine inscrutability fails
to vindicate God from possible malevolence rather than being
the capstone of His omnipotence.
The manifest aim, then, of the theology of the Meditations
is to have a good .God provide an objective validation for human reason, whose hallmark is the law of noncontradiction, i. e.
to guarantee that what human reason cannot help but regard
as true is in fact true. In the Meditations the validation concerns the rational faculty itself rather than the status of its
objects, the eternal truths, since the doctrine of the created nature of these truths is not present. Its logical place would appear to be in M edit. I in the context of God's malevolence, i. e.
that human reason is jeopardized because God may have
created truths contradictory to human reason. Or perhaps it
should appear in M edit. III after a proof of God's goodness
since creation of truth by a good God is the theology most in
harmony with a divine sanction for human reason. But it appears nowhere in the Meditations, leaving one to suspect that
perhaps God's benevolence is the problem. It is only by regarding this hypothesis of a possibily evil God as unintelligible
that Frankfurt can maintain the centrality of the divine creation of the eternal truths to Descartes's metaphysics, i.e. by not
linking inscrutability to the question of malevolence.

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WALTER SOFFER

After offering two proofs of God's existence Descartes can apparently supply the attribute of goodness. For God as a perfect
being has all perfections and in a unified way, so that He harbors no errors, defects or potentiality. Goodness thus follows
axiomatically from the perfection of the divine nature. As
Descartes asserts in M edit. ill, " From this it is manifest that
He cannot be a deceiver, since the light of nature teaches us
that fraud and deception necessarily proceed from some defect." 15 In addition to the weakness of the claim that deception
arises only from imperfection, to assert this on the basis of the
very natural light which is dependent upon God's goodness is
again to beg the question.16 Nonetheless, we are asked to believe that God is constrained to be veracious by His very nature, thus providing us with a theologically grounded metaphysical justification of Cartesian science.
To repeat, science is wedded to a metaphysics, the issue of
Cartesian rationalism turning on which is primary. The link
between physics and metaphysics is explicitly stated by Descartes at the beginning of Medit. IV.:
And it seems to me that I now have before me a road which will
lead us from the contemplation of a true God (in whom all the
treasures of science and wisdom are contained) to the knowledge
of the other objects of the universe.17

In what follows I will argue that the Cartesian road is other
than it appears but not because, as Frankfurt claims, the regions
15 HR

I, 171.
Stated in terms of God's faculties, "Although it may appear that the power
of deception is a mark of subtlety or power, yet the desire to deceive without
doubt testifies to malice or feebleness, and accordingly cannot be found in God "
(HR I, 172) . Since God's will is that of an omnipotent being, and it is axiomatic
that powerlessness is the motive for deception (the inclusion of malice being redundant), power and will combine in God to yield benevolent omnipotence. Nevertheless, that will and power are conjoined by goodness does not signify, 1111 Descartes
says in the Correspondence, that they are two aspects of fundamentally unitary
divine nature. Here in the Meditations they are treated as separate faculties, so
that a problem with one causes a problem in their cooperative operation.
1 ' HR I, 172. This passage suggests a correspondence vs. a eoherence theory
of knowledge.
18

DESCARTES, RATIONALITY

AND GOD

675

of science/reason and theology /revelation are heterogeneous
(which I also believe they are for Descartes) and hence independent, but because, to repeat, revelation is subordinate to
reason. The relation of Cartesian rationalism to theology will
be discussed in terms of a) the divine nature, b) its relation
to the founding of Cartesian science via the critique of teleology
and c) its role in the creation of the eternal truths.
The Divine Nature
The unitary character of God's attributes, significantly absent from the Meditations, is asserted when Descartes speaks
specifically of this issue in the context of the divine creation of
the eternal truths. To Mersenne in May, 1630, Descartes explains that, "In God, willing, understanding and creating are
all the same thing without one being prior to the other even
conceptually." 18 Before seeing the consequences of such a
divine unity it is interesting to observe its human counterpart,
the unitary cogito. The accepted account of Descartes's anthropology, also subscribed to by Frankfurt, is that, while in God
intellect and will are inseparable, in man they are distinct faculties. Medit. IV is generally adduced as evidence. However,
the nature of the cogito must be gleaned from the Meditations
as a whole.19 Frankfurt's account is the following:
K., p. 15.
In brief (and omitting many points of interpretation which would have to
be argued at length) the progressive articulation of the soul throughout the Meditations has the following charartcer. In. Medit. I, which does not mention the will
explicitly apart from its launching of the doubt as an act of resolution, we have
a critique of the faculties of sense, imagination and intellect. The will first makes
its appearance in Medit. II as belonging to a non-substantial cogito comprising
every conceivable mode of thought, one of which is willing, without identifying
the soul as a one or a many. It is simply "a thing which doubts, understands,
[conceives], affirms, denies, wills, refuses, which also imagines and feels" (HR I, 158).
Following the mediated conception of consciousness concluding Medit. II we find
from Medits. III- V a faculty conception, epitomized in Medit. IV by a passive
intellect and an active and judging will, this latter faculty our similitude to God.
However, the Meditations conclude by revoking such a faculty conception. Distinguishing the mind from the body in M edit. VI, Descartes explains that:
" When I consider the mind, that is to say, myself inasmuch as I am only a thinking
1•

19

676

WALTER SOFFER

Descartes does not explain just why it is a mistake to distinguish
God's understanding and His will. The following general line of
argument would have been available to him, however, given his
views on the relevant subjects: in humans, the understanding is
a passive faculty; but since it is inadmissable to ascribe any passivity to God, the divine understanding must be construed as
active; and this means supposing that, like the divine will, it necessarily has an effect upon its object. It is plausible to conjecture
that Descartes came to this theory through his association ... with
the Oratory of Cardinal Berulie. The central feature of Berulle's
theory was its particular emphasis upon the unity and simplicity
of God's nature. 20

We agree. Descartes's unification of God's powers is the doctrine of the Oratory; however, as we will try to show, its rationale is not merely to distinguish the divine from the human
soul but, as Descartes explains to Mersenne, for the purpose of
"adapting theology to my style of philosophy." 21 Moreover,
in the light of the likewise unitary cogito, perhaps this is the
real similitude between man and God-a nature which is at
once willfully rational-and hence the apotheosis of the human
soul as the correlate of divine inscrutability. 22 For the seeming
gulf between man and God which is consistent with the tradithing, I cannot distinguish in myself any parts, but apprehend myself to be clearly
one and entire. . . . And the faculties of willing, feeling, conceiving, etc. cannot
be properly speaking said to be its parts, for it is one and the same mind which
employs itself in willing and in feeling and in understanding " (HR I, 196).
The denial of a faculty conception is more straightforward in the Passions I, 47:
" For there is within us but one soul, and this soul has not in itself any diversity
of parts; the same part that is subject to sense impressions is rational, and all
the soul's appetities are acts of will " (HR I, 858). In different parts of the
Meditations we get different soul doctrines depending upon the problem being
considered. It is likewise with God. In the Meditations the absence of the
doctrine of the divine creation of the eternal truths is coupled with a faculty
conception so that God's will can be isolated as a threat to reason, while in
the correspondence the creation of the eternal truths is coupled with a unitary
divine soul. Accounting for this shift will reveal the relation between Descartes's
theological metaphysics and non-theological physics.
•• F., p. 41, note 7.
11 Letter of January, 1641; K., p. 98.
22 Cf. H. Caton, "Will and Reason In Descartes' Theory of Error," The Journal
of Phifosophy, Vol. LXXII, No. 4, February
1975, pp. 87-104.

DESCARTES, RATIONALITY

AND GOD

677

tion of a finite human understanding vis-a-vis an infinite God
is at the same time a concealed threat to this tradition since
God is totally mysterious; again, not with respect to power
but with respect to will. As Descartes puts it in Medit. IV:
And certainly there is no doubt that God could have created me
so that I could never have been subject to error; it is also certain
that He ever wills what is best; is it then better that I should be subject to error than that I should not? 23
That is, can we reconcile divine goodness with what from the
anthropocentric point of view raises a question about such goodness? Rather than a convincing proof of such goodness Descartes shrouds the divine will in mystery by offering a conclusion concerning physics following from the separation of human and divine knowledge:
Knowing that my nature is extremely feeble and limited, and that
the nature of God is on the contrary immense, incomprehensible,
and infinite, I have no further difficulty in recognizing that there
is an infinitude of matters in His power, the causes of which
transcend my knowledge; and this reason suffices to convince me
that the species of cause termed final, finds no useful employment
in physical [or natural] things; for it does not appear to me that
I can without temerity seek to investigate the [inscrutable] ends
of God.24

In the name of piety we must remain ignorant of God's purposes, whose will is therefore unintelligible to human reason.
Our tentative .suggestion as to what conclusions to draw from
this is as follows. If God's will is unintelligible to human reason
we can no longer assert God's goodness. For judging God to
be good in the absence of reasons (i.e., judging from faith) violates what Descartes calls in M edit. IV the liberty of sp\)ntaneity, the willful resolve to follow one's reason in all matters.
Reason and faith are thus not only separate but mutually exclusive because from the epistemological and anthropological
points of view the cognitive and psychological imperatives of
28

HR 1, 178.

"'Ibid.

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WALTER SOFFER

the liberty of spontaneity leave no room for faith. And since
faith defers to human reason we again must suspect that the
theodicy in the Meditations is tailored to be ambiguously consistent with both traditional and novel doctrines. This is borne
out by the way in which Cartesian mechanicism overcomes
teleology.
Mechanicism vs. Teleology
The elimination of final cause from nature, i.e. the critique
of Aristotelian physics, is accomplished by exacting· a nontraditional conclusion from what Descartes claims to be traditional premisses. Since nature is created rather than causasui, if
there are to be any purposes in nature they can have their source
only in the divine mind as God's intentions at the time of creation. But since these intentions are unknowable we cannot impute final cause to nature. Cartesian nature thus appears as
the consequence of the theological postulate of an incomprehensible Creator. Descartes thus separates the world into the
non-human or non-telic and the human or telic by regarding
final cause as nothing more than an anthropomorphic projection. He robs nature of ends and locates them in mind, but
since it is the divine rather than the human mind, mechanicism
emerges as a theological consequence rather than a rational assertion on purely scientific grounds. The hiddenness of God's
aims simultaneously testifies to a science of nature via exclusively efficient causes and an expression of faith. And there is
to be no conflict between these points of view because " we
must trust to this natural light only so long as nothing contrary
to it is revealed by God Himself." 25 Presumably what God
does reveal is not final cause, which would force revisions within
mechanicism, but a vindication of efficient cause by the coincidence of Cartesian science and the eternal truths He created.
The either-or of mechanicism (reason) or teleology (faith)
thus hinges on the interpretation of Descartes's negative theology. However, Descartes cautiously appears to avoid this

.

••Principles, I, 28; HR I, 281.

DESCARTES, RATIONALITY AND GOD

679

either-or concerning the status of his physics by restricting
efficient causality to the human account of nature rather than
the inner workings of nature, which is the province of the divine
mind. He seems to opt for a proto-Kantian duality of outward
mechanicism (appearance) and inner teleology (thing-in-itself).
This is the view of Frankfurt, who bases his opinion not only
on the epistemological implication of the negative theology but
also on the reconciliation of science and religion this allows
Descartes to effect with respect to the Galileo controversy
which Descartes took great pains (in vain) to avoid. In his
Demons,. Dreamers and Madmen Frankfurt explains that
Descartes adopts neither the position of the Church nor that of
Galileo. His alternative neatly avoids the point of contention between them and makes it unnecessary for him to deny the autonomy
either of science or of revelation. Galileo and the Church fought
because each claimed special access to the nature of things. . . .
Descartes, on the other hand, leaves God's truth to God and claims
for science only a truth sufficient for man .... His solution ... has
a Kantian flavor: men may content themselves with certainty
about phenomena and leave the noumenon to God" (pp. 184-5).

Frankfurt adds that he does not wish to press this analogy any
further; however, he uses it to support what might after all
turn out to be the fulcrum on which his interpretation rests-a
distinction between physics as the human account of nature
and metaphysics as the divine account. We must therefore
question the analogy, for whereas it is clear that for Kant the
science (i.e., lawfulness) of nature is limited to the phenomenal
realm this is not the case for Descartes. For Descartes the laws
of nature are at the same time the eternal truths as created by
God, such that their certainty stands or falls together. Consequently we cannot rest with a dualism of noumenal teleology
and phenomenal mechanics because the phenomenal is also
questionable if mechanics is none other than enmattered eternal
truth. If we cannot be sure of God's creation of truth we can••Cf., however, what Descartes tells Mersenne in April, 1684 after referring to
the fate of Galileo: " I desire to live in peace and to continue the life I have
begun under the motto that to live well you must live unseen " (K., p. 26) •

680

WALTER SOFFER

not be sure of its corporeal manifestation as mechanics (but
Descartes says we are) . Thus we either accept both an unintelligible metaphysics and physics or ground them both in human
reason minus a divine guarantee. The following is what Frankfurt concludes from the divine inscrutability by assuming that
Descartes's physics can be detached from his metaphysics of the
eternal truths. God's transcendence produces
a decisive and ineradicable uncertainty concerning the relation between the class of judgments required by rational considerations
and the class of judgments that correctly describe the inherent
nature of reality (F., p. 50) ... Descartes' vision ... is that the
world may be inherently absurd ... there may be a discontinuity
in principle between what we can understand and what God knows.
Rationality may be nothing more than a convenient collective form
of lunacy, which enables those who suffer from it to communicate
with each other, but which isolates them all from what is ultimately
real. (F., p. 54) ... the assertion that reality as it is in itself may be
in principle unintelligible to us exempts reason from having to
regard itself as a competitor of transrational modes of access to
truth. (F., p. 55) ... Descartes' doctrine ... renders human reason
and divine revelation discontinuous (F., p. 57) .

We are asked to believe that Descartes's epistemology is thus
one of coherence vs. correspondence, but this goes against Descartes's explicit statement in Medit. VI 27 and renders physics
open to ultimate skepticism if we can show the intimacy of
Cartesian physics and metaphysics. For we would be forced
to move from an inscrutable God to an equally inscrutable
metaphysics to an equally inscrutable (i.e., skeptical) physics.
As the passage from M edit. VI shows, the clear and distinct
ideas are the epistemic correlates of the metaphysical eternal
truths. In fact the distinction between metaphysics (essence)
and physics (existence) is collapsed in Frankfurt's initial cita" Concerning the true nature of external bodies, Descartes claims that " they
are perhaps not exactly what we perceive by the senses . . . but we must at
least admit that all things which I conceive in them clearly and distinctly, that
is to say, all things which, speaking generally, are comprehended in the object of
pure mathematics, are truly to be recognized as external objects " (HR I, 191).
The purely mathematical and bodily thus coincide.

DESCARTES, RATIONALITY AND GOD

681

tion of Descartes's doctrine of the divine creation of the eternal
truths (F., p. 36). Descartes explains to Mersenne that with
respect to" the mathematical truths which you call eternal ...
it is God who has laid down these laws of nature." 28 Pure
mathematics, deceptively distinguished in Medit. I from sciences concerning actual existence, is in fact the essence of actual
bodies. With respect to God, then, we must inquire not into the
possibility that He can create essences which would be alien to
our science but why He would choose to do so. An inscrutable
metaphysics renders physics erroneous, i. e. simply wrong, no
matter how "coherent" it may be.29
The incompatibility of Frankfurt's proto-Kantian distinction
between outward mechanicism and inner teleology with Descartes's comprehensiveness of efficient causality is clearly indicated in what Descartes tells Regius. Concerning the refutation
of the Aristotelian substantial forms (and for Descartes Scholasticism is nothing but Aristotle plus God), Descartes gives Regius
(who openly rejected them) the following advice, which can
perhaps be taken as an admission of Descartes' own tactics:
I should like it best if you never put forward any new opinions,
but retained all the old ones in name, and merely brought forward
new arguments. This is a course of action to which nobody could
take exception, and yet those who understand your arguments
would spontaneously draw from them the conclusions you had in
mind. For instance, why did you openly reject substantial forms
and real qualities? Do you not remember that on p. 164 of the
French edition of my Meteors, I expressly said that I did not at all
reject or deny them, but simply found them unnecessary in setting
out my explanations. If you had taken this course, everybody in
your audience would have rejected them as soon as they saw they
were useless, but you would not have become so unpopular with
your colleagues.30
••Letter of May 27, 1630; K., p. 14.
•• It should also be borne in mind that the practical side of physics, technology,
would be difficult to legitimate if nature operated at some level in accordance with
God-given purposes. Technology requires the detheologizing of nature in order
to make it amenable to " mastery and possession."
80 Letter of January,
1642; K., pp. 126-7.

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WALTER SOFFER

In the Meditations Descartes is following his own advice. While
the traditional terminology is retained, in that final cause is
not said to be a fiction but merely " finds no useful employment in physical [or natural] things," 31 Descartes pours new
wine into these old bottles by allowing the force of the argument to demolish this traditional doCtrine by implying that its
non-use rests on its non-existence. This ploy of " adapting theology to my style of philosophy " was seen very clearly by
Leibniz, who expresses the relation between Cartesian theology
and physics as follows:
I am told that Descartes established so well the existence of God
and the immortality of the soul. I fear that we are deceived by
such beautiful words. For the God or perfect being of Descartes is
not a God such as one imagines, and as one would wish, that is
to say, just and wise, doing all things for the good of the creatures
so far as is possible, but rather he is something approaching the
God of Spinoza, that is to say, the principle of things, and a certain
sovereign power called primitive, which puts all in action, and does
all that can be done; which has no will nor understanding, since according to Descartes he does not have the good for the object of
his will, nor the true for the object of his understanding. For he
did not wish that his God act according to some end, and it is
for that reason that he excluded from philosophy the quest for
final causes, under this clever pretext that we are not capable of
knowing the purposes of God ... " 32

In agreement with Leibniz, we can say that nature becomes
detheologized by its dependency upon a God which has correspondingly become naturalized, the inscrutability of God's
will being the personification of non-teleological nature.
The shift from nature to God in order to discuss final cause
was necessary because a mechanical physics precludes a discovery of teleology by an inspection or investigation of nature
itself. In fact, it would be difficult to prove in the first place
that God existed as a wise and beneficent Creator by reflecting
upon a nature showing no signs of such wisdom and goodness.
Me<lit. IV; HRI, 178.
Leibniz to Malebranche [?J, June, 1679. In A. Robinet, Malebranche and
Leibniz (Paris, 1955), pp. 114-!!0.
•1

82

DESCARTES, RATIONALITY AND GOD

683

While in M edit. IV Descartes there£ore proceeds immediately to
the divine nature and from there back to nature, the difficulties
of going from nature to God are mentioned in the Correspondence. To Mersenne Descartes wrote, in a somewhat equivocal
manner, that" the number and the orderly arrangement of the
nerves, bones, and other parts of an animal do not show that
nature is insufficient to form them, provided you suppose that
in everything nature acts in exact accord with the laws of
mechanics, and that these laws have been imposed on it by
God," so much so that" I have found nothing whose formation
seems inexplicable by natural causes." 38 The inner teleology
and functional wholeness of living things, which was regarded
by the Aristotelian tradition as the paradigm of natural purposiveness, is demoted to the status of the effect of natural,
mechanical actions. The insertion of God as the source of this
mechanics falls short of reinstating nature as purposeful and
thereby becoming a natural sign of the intentions of God because God is said to create mechanics and not substantial forms,
which are therefore its mere surface phenomena, thus reversing
the relation suggested by Frankfurt. Organic, functional wholeness is replaced by a mechanical disposition of parts, a genesis
of structures as opposed to the actualization of form or goal.
Why God should create teleology by the intermediary of
mechanistic physics truly points to the inscrutability of God's
will.
The non-organic realm likewise offers no guide to God. In
spite of the seemingly beneficent nature of God as revealed in
his creation of such things as the sun, Descartes writes to
Hyperaspistes that " it would be childish and absurd for a metaphysician to assert that God, like some vainglorious human
being, had no other purpose in making the universe than to win
men's praise; or that the sun, which is many times larger than
the earth, was created for no other purpose than to give light
to man, who occupies a very small part of the earth." 34 The
••Letter of February
1689; K., pp. 68-4.
••Letter of August, 1641; K., pp. 117-8.

684

WALTER SOFFER

manifest teleology is undercut by declaring it to be at best a
partial view, and, more importantly, a view from an anthropocentric bias rather than the detached metaphysical attitude.
God's larger aims are still not revealed in His creation, which
shows that the pr@blem raised in M edit. I about defining God's
goodness from the anthropocentric point of view either pro (via
nature's provisions) or con (via the fact of deception) is now
undercut and with it the theological objections that God's goodness sometimes requires human deception. God's inscrutability
is pushed so far as to render either alternative unanswerable.
In terms of human reason, God's nature becomes unintelligible
to the point of non-relevance, however a non-relevance grounded
on the opposition between human reason and Divine purpose,
i.e. Cartesian. vs. Aristotelian/Christian science.
The conclusion from the rejection of teleology via God's unknowability about the relation of nature, God, and reason is
the following. Nature, by not revealing God's intentions, does
not point to God. God's proof depends solely upon the logical
implications of the idea of Him found within the cogito, whose
"proof" of God is in fact an exercise of rational autonomy. It
seems that the order of creation has been reversed. God becomes the creation of the God-independent cogito, the lone
trans-natural
within nature as a whole. And the divine
nature is in accord with its "natural " origin in that it becomes
the personification of mechanical nature. God as mechanical
versus purposeful nature is thus in accord with the overall plan
of the mastery and possession of nature, which would be impossible to adjust to nature as the instantiation of divine order
and goodness. That the absurd nature of God's inscrutability
culminates in a theology of irrelevancy when it comes to the
question of truth based in faith in God or grounded in rational
autonomy is seen finally in the doctrine of the creation of the
eternal truths (on which Frankfurt chiefly rests his case) and
the reasons for its exclusion from the Meditations. The following interpretation is proposed as an alternative to the one
by Frankfurt.

DESCARTES, RATIONALITY AND GOD

685

That the truths of logic and mathematics are created by
God is stated by Descartes only in the Correspondence and the
Replies to the Fifth and Sixth Sets of Objections. The doctrine's
inclusion in the Meditations would, as we have indicated, appear logically to belong in Medit. I, the doubt concerning human reason pertaining to the questionable correspondence between human rationality and divinely created truth. Or, with
His reappearance in M edit. III as a threat to reason, we would
perhaps expect to find the doctrine accompanying the proofs of
divine goodness. But we are disappointed again. That the
divine creation of the eternal truths appears nowhere in the
M editationa (Descartes's chief metaphysical work) must therefore be explained in terms of the doctrine itself-the theology
upon which it is grounded and its import for the emancipation
of reason from God.85
In 1630 Descartes communicates the doctrine of the divine
creation of the eternal truths to Mersenne in the Letters of
April 15, May 6, and May
The mathematical-eternal truths
are said to depend on God as His willful creations. If they are
independent from God this would be " to talk of Him as if He
were Jupiter or Saturn and to subject Him to the Styx and the
Fates." 86 In the name of preserving God's unlimited power an
intellectualism of independently valid eternal truths is denied.
They exist neither apart from God nor exclusively in God's intellect. Their existence and necessity depend upon God willing
them into being. Since God's will cannot change, even though
it is initially free (which is explained again by the incomprehensibility of His power and the perfection and immutability
of His nature, which eliminate potentiality and hence change)
these willed truths are eternally the same. The extent of God's
power is such that " we can assert that God can do everything
that we can comprehend but not that he cannot do what we
•• J. Ree states our conclusion when he observes concerning the eternal truths
as created by an unknown God that Descartes's "humanization of essence and
his dehumanization of God endangered not only traditional theology but also
all belief in God" in Descartes (London, 1974), p. 150.
••Letter of April 15, 1630; K., p. 11.

686

WALTER SOFFER

cannot comprehend." 37 Apparently there are no limits or constraints upon God's creative power. In the Letter of May
Descartes tells Mersenne:
You ask also what necessitated God to create these truths; and
I reply that just as He was free not to create the world, so He
was no less free to make it untrue that all the lines drawn from
the centre of a circle to its circumference are equal. And it is certain that these truths are no more necessarily attached to his
essence than other creatures are.88
While the truths selected are eternally the same because of
God's immutability, which truths are initially created still depends upon God's discretion, so that, again, what is regarded
as necessary and non-contradictory by human reason may not
be so regarded and decreed by God, their changelessness notwithstanding. The issue is not so much the immutability of
God's will as its initial character in choosing apparently ex
nihilo.
The revealing passage at the beginning of M edit. VI brings
the issue of the relation between God and the truths from the
perspective of human reason sharply into focus. After remarking that bodies qua pure mathematics may exist because
of their dependence upon clear and distinct perception, Descartes adds:
For there is no doubt that God possesses the power to produce
everything that I am capable of perceiving with distinctness, and
I have never deemed that anything was impossible for Him, unless
I found a contradiction in attempting to conceive it clearly." 39
Taken by itself this passage clearly subordinates God's creative power to the law of contradiction as understood in accordance with human reason. However, when seen in its context
•• Ibid; K., p. 12.
•• Ibid; K., p. 15. As Frankfurt points out, this same point about God's power
over what human reason judges contradictory is communicated to Mcsland [?] (K.,
p. 151) and More (K., pp. H0-1).
•• HR I, 185; this controversial passage, which can be understood only on the
distinction of power and will in God, is not discussed by Frankfurt.

DESCARTES, RATIONALITY AND GO!>

687

it can perhaps be rendered consistent with the dependence of
logic upon God. Coming after the " demonstration " of God's
goodness in Medits. III-V, the creative power of God in the service of a good will is what is responsible for the non-creation
of the non-contradictory rather than His conforming to norms
apprehended as valid apart from and hence binding upon God.
As we have seen, God's intellect and God's will cannot be
separated. The coincidence, then, between what God may
create and what human reason understands as necessary attests
not to the supremacy of human reason or an uncreated logic
binding upon God and man alike but the harmony of power and
goodness in God. Consequently, to show that Descartes does
in fact place the autonomy of reason above divine decrees we
would have to show that God's will cannot in fact be known to
be good. We revert back to the inscrutability of God, which is
shown by the relation of intellect and will. If God's attributes
yield an uncertain unity such that God's will becomes uncertain,
God's power cannot be known to be limited by His goodness.
The choices then become either an all-powerful but perhaps evil
God, which renders human reason uncertain, or an unknowable
God who because of this becomes irrelevant to truth and must
by default be replaced by an unsupported human reason.
Descartes handles the traditional problem of the supremacy
of God's will or intellect in the following way. As we have seen,
the unity of God's faculties is how Descartes ' adapts theology
to his purposes.' The amalgam of voluntarism and intellectualism, whereby neither will nor intellect is prior in God's
mind, at once does justice to the theologians while straddling
the issue. If neither will nor intellect is prior God's decrees can
be neither wholly arbitrary nor wholly necessary. But yet they
are freely chosen and eternally binding. This combination of
creativity and immutability is explained by Descartes as the
liberty of indifference of God's will in creating ex nihilo. To
Mesland [?] he explains:
And even if God has willed that some truths should be necessary,
this does not mean that he willed them necessarily; for it is one

688

WALTER SOFFER

thing to will that they be necessary, and quite another to will them
necessarily, or to be necessitated to will them. 40

Descartes then reiterates that what we distinguish as intellect
and will cannot be so distinguished in God because in Him they
are the same thing. He quotes St. Augustine (Confessi-Ons
xiii.30) : " They are so because you see them to be so; because
in God seeing and willing are one and the same thing." 41 The
freedom of spontaneity is denied to God because it would subject Him to Fate (i. e., rational necessity, the true and the
good) and freedom of indifference is granted, which enables
Descartes to claim the true and the good as coming from
God and in a non-tyrannical or wholly arbitrary way because of
the link between God's will and God's intellect. However,
despite the insistence on the non-separateness and non-precedence of the will over the intellect in God, the stress does fall
on God's will because due to the freedom of indifference (lack
of reasons in the form of the true and the good) the emphasis
placed upon the eternal truths is their being created rather than
being seen, and therefore God's creative power is more of a
willing than a seeing. While Frankfurt concludes from this unlimited power of God that there remains an inevitable dis·
crepancy between rationality and truth since " a person may be
justified in asserting that a proposition is self-contradictory without being justified in asserting that it is false" (F., p. 50), the
voluntaristic emphasis and its devastating consequences for the
true and the good were again seen by Leibniz:
Also, by saying that things are not good by any rule of goodness
but by God's will alone, it seems to me that one unthinkingly
destroys all love of God and all His glory. For why praise Him
for what He has done, if he would be equally praiseworthy in doing
just the contrary? Where then will be His justice and His wisdom,
if there only remains a certain despotic power, if will takes the
place of reason, and if, according to the definition of tyrants, what
pleases the most powerful is just by that alone? 42
•• Letter of May 9l, 1644; K., p. 151.

"Ibid.
•a Discourse on Metaphysics, para. 11.

DESCARTES, RATIONALITY AND GOD

689

Judging the creation of the eternal truths to be disguised rationalism rather than a divine guarantee of it, Leibniz offers
the following appraisal, with which the present interpretation
agrees:
I cannot even imagine that M. Descartes can have been quite
seriously of this opinion ... It was apparently one of his tricks,
one of his philosophic feints . . . I suspect that he had in mind
here another extraordinary manner of speaking, of his own invention, which was to say that affirmations and negations, and acts
of inner judgment in general, are operations of the will. Through
this artifice the eternal verities, which until the time of Descartes
had been named an object of the divine understanding, suddenly
became an object of God's will. Now the acts of his will are free,
therefore God is the free cause of the verities ... But if the affirmations of necessary truths were actions of the will of the most perfect mind, these actions would be anything but free, for there is
nothing to choose. It seems that M. Descartes did not declare
himself sufficiently on the nature of freedom, and that his conception of it was somewhat unusual: for he extended it so far that
he even held the affirmations of necessary truths to be free in God.
That was preserving only the name of freedom. 43

Descartes presents God's freedom (not His power per se) in
such a way that it ends in unintelligibility. To free God from
rational necessity the freedom of spontaneity is replaced by the
freedom of indifference. But unlike the human soul, wherein
indifference liberates the will from the intellect, in God's in·
difference they are said to merge. This has the effect of mitigating God's caprice but at the price of an unintelligible indifference. The divine jndifference, because of the coalescence of
intellect and will, is therefore neither spontaneity nor indifference. It is not only an unknowable composite of the two,
but stress on its creative aspect renders it incompatible with
God's perfection, i.e., the very immutability which gives created
truth its eternality. Descartes cannot at the same time insist
on an indifference which gives God creative options and a perfection which implies by the denial of unactualized potentiality
that God has no options but acts invariably and once and for
•• Theodicy, para. 186.

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W.ALTER SOFFER

all. As for the truths themselves, while God's invariability can
account for the eternality of the eternal truths once created,
why God " chooses " one set rather than another seems both
impossible and mysterious. Choosing as such introduces too
much latitude into the divine perfection and the impenetrable
character of God's will makes its actions exceed the scope of
rationality. Contra Frankfurt, we must conclude with Leibniz,
and more recently Caton, 44 that the doctrine of the creation of
the eternal truths is a " philosophic feint," and one whose absence from the Meditations is explained by the inscrutability
of the theology in which it is couched. For the very extreme
type of freedom attributed to God casts an irremediable doubt
on the veracity of God. The limitation of God's power by His
goodness cannot be demonstrated, the corollary of which is
the self-grounded autonomy of human reason in the absence
of a transrational guide.
Perhaps the most straightforward statement on the supremacy of reason over faith was the one made in the Notes Against
a Programme:
For as we were born men before we became Christians, it is beyond
belief that any man should seriously embrace opinions which he
thinks contrary to that right reason that constitutes a man, in
order that he may cling to the faith through which he is a Christian.45

This remark can be consonant with faith only if God guarantees
reason. But because God is unintelligible to reason he does
not provide such a guarantee. Rather than follow the attempt
of many who try to found reason on God,46 and in the process
.. Cf. Origin of Subjectivity, p. 127: " If God can create contradictory states
of affairs, and if his actual creation is not governed by goodness or truth, which
themselves are determined by the fiat of the creating will, then any attempt to
prove that God guarantees a correspondence between our ideas and the world
must shatter upon the rock of God's ' incomprehensibility '."

••HR I, 489.
'"Cf. the compatibilist position of B. Gibson, who states: "The identity
of will and intellect in God; the impossibility of separating end from activity
in the nature of God Himself; the creation of the verities . • . this is the cen-

DESCARTES, RATIONALITY

AND GOD

691

try to extricate Descartes from the circularity of God's validation and dependence upon clear and distinct ideas 47 (which
in any case would not solve the problem of God's unintelligible
will) , we must agree with the early view of Gilson 48 that piety
and reason are not only irreconcilable but that piety gives way
to reason.
WALTER SOFFER

State University of New York
Geneseo, New York

ter and inspiration of the doctrine which leaves the achievement of science
intact and yet subordinates it to transcendent claims of a reality whose essence
is spirit." In "The Eternal Verities and the Will of God in the Philosophy of
Descartes," Aristotelian Society, XXX
pp. 81-54.
"Cf. A. Kenny, "The Cartesian Circle and the Eternal Truths," Journal of
Philosophy, 67 (1970), pp. 685-700. Kenny tries to avoid the circularity by a
distinction between particular clear and distinct ideas (which as Buch do not
require God's guarantee) and the general rule, which 1foes. However, it is difficult to see how the former can really stand on their own in the absence of the
latter.
•• Gilson states that the doctrine of the divine creation of the eternal truths
" consists essentially in a justificatiG>n of the physics by the metaphysical conceptions that Descartes found in his milieu; it is an adaptation of the theology
of the Oratory to the physics of efficient causes." In La liberte chez Descartes
et la theologie (Paris, 1918), p. 78.

REVIEW ARTICLE
Ongoing Revision. By CHARLES E. CURRAN. Notre Dame, Indiana:
Publishers, Inc., 1975. Pp. 300. $10.95.

Fides

The subtitle of this volume, "Studies in Moral Theology," indicates that
Curran is again presenting a poorly-integrated collection of diverse essays;
such an enterprise is markedly different from writing a book. All the
familiar strengths and weaknesses of Curran's style are to be found here;
they need no extensive rehearsal.
The autobiographical reflections of the ninth chapter reveal something
of Curran's conception of his project of recent years along with historical
and personal factors which have shaped that project. His major effort
has been to educate American Catholics concerning " the right to dissent
from authoritative, noninfallible, hierarchical teaching." Many Catholics
have gained their ecclesial self-identity by consistently adhering to certain
moral teachings; being opposed to abortion, divorce and artificial contraception (among other things) seemed (at least to the popular mind)
more integral to being a good Catholic than true faith in Jesus Christ.
Curran has labored to overcome such a posiiton and he is to be commended.
Curran's role as a moral theologian in the American Catholic Church
continues to be controversial. He enjoys the enthusiastic support of many
thoughtful people, but he is vigorously opposed by others equally thoughtful; it goes without saying that less thoughtful and more fanatic individuals
line up for and against him, but them we cannot easily calm. I believe
that American Catholics and moral theology itself would deeply benefit
from any intelligent attempts to still a bit the storm which continues to
swirl around Curran. I urge, not a false calm hiding sincere disagreement,
but rather that our attention turn away from the ongoing encounter between Curran and those who oppose him. So far at least, it would appear
that he has not made as creative and positive an impact as some might
claim; but neither, to be sure, does he appear as the villain others see
and fear.
Curran apparently considers himself an academic moral theologian, deeply
interested in practical questions, but wishing to address those issues in a
speculative scientific way. He seems to contrast himself with Bernard
Haring who, after his initial more academic successes, consciously devoted
his energies to educating the popular mind; Curran regrets that Haring
is not doing more speculative work but he respects Haring's present task.
Quite apart from Curran's own self-conception, most American Catholics
would think of him in terms of his public stands. Even if we grant that
he did his homework on the question of dissenting from authoritative,

REVIEW ARTICLE

693

noninfallible, hierarchical teaching, his impact has come from his public
words and actions; he is famous for the courage of his convictions rather
than for the intellectual underpinnings of his convictions.
American Catholics and moral theology would ha well-served if Curran
would clearly opt (a) to invest his. talents in academic research and teaching,
or (b) to engage in more popular tasks, one of which could be to serve as
a watchdog ready to challenge any tendencies toward slipping back into
a moralistic Catholicism. Either option would be worthwhile. Failure so
to opt contributes to continued pain and confusion for the American
Church. If Curran were to choose the first option, then his vocal and
" official " critics should cease any opposition grounded in their reaction
to his public words and actions of the past; he should be given an honest
opportunity to do scholarly work in moral theology, and any dialogue should
be on scholarly grounds. If Curran were to choose the second option, then
he surely can expect continued criticism (which he says does not anger
him); more significantly, his supporters should then cease making any
exaggerated claims for the intellectual calibre of his work.
If I am reading Curran accurately, he would claim to be opting for
academic research and teaching. Surely he is acutely aware of the complexities surrounding moral questions today; he urges that each issue be
studied in its complexity and he is quite willing to forego any unifying
theory with which the moralist could approach contemporary issues (because such a theory could tend to be too simplistic). This volume, as well
as Curran's previous books, reflects such an approach. He speaks of divorce,
abortion, death and dying, the natural law, cooperation with moral agents,
pluralism, the principle of double effect. But, in most instances, he has
only acknowledged the complexity without doing the detailed research
which might cast some fresh and helpful light. For example, it is true
that divorce is a difficult question today, subject to investigation by sociology, sacramental theology, moral theology, and other disciplines. While
the Church would benefit from such a detailed study, I think it can be
harmed by the very brief treatment offered by Curran. Granted that
he explicitly disclaims having provided any conclusive argumentation for
a revised moral position, the fact is that the tone of his chapter 011 divorce
points in a particular direction. And the ordinary American Catholic who
has heard of Charles E. Curran often does not appreciate intellectual
nuances and disclaimers; instead, he considers Curran an expert, a famous
moralist whose opinions are respected (or, from the other side, to be
scorned). Soon Curran's "position" is being quoted, the "authorities"
become angry and defensive, and the Church suffers. I suspect that Curran's
fame is presently his worst enemy. I suspect that any less-known moralist
would find it difficult to publish a collection such as we find in Ongoing
Revisif>n.

694

WILLIAM J. FINAN

The quality is quite uneven. At times Curran rigorously argues against,
clarifies and refines points proposed by another moralist; even though his
arguments are frequently so truncated as to elude popular understanding,
the evidence is there that a truly intelligent mind is at work. At other
points Curran simply states a position, begging our pardon because he is
limited in space and time; such an approach is valid in the lerlure hall
but is really not fair in a book. (In general, Curran's repetitiv,) style makes
him an excellent lecturer; poor editing often makes the same material very
tedious reading.) In one paragraph the argument appeals to a refined
audience, while in the next paragraph one finds po;mlarized arguments with
no substantive defense. (Note that I am not rejecting the latter mode.
I am convinced of its necessity today. However, I do object to Curran's
mixture of the two and I think that he would be far more effective were
he to opt one way or the other.)
One aspect of Curran's work which is consistently praiseworthy is his
use of Vatican II documents. He has clearly reflected upon the Declaration
on Religious Freedom and his applications are regularly helpful. In general
his discussions of Aquinas are also accurate and insightful. However, here
again he runs the risks which accompany arguments not developed at great
enough length: he can be a bit too dense for the popular mind without
being 11ophisticated enough for a better educated audience. Reference to
Scripture can be embarrassingly brief and selective on the issue of divorce,
while appreciation of the intricacies of biology in the question of abortion
is edifying.
All of this convinces me that Curran, the research scholar, might plan
a book on one topic alone. His study of the right to dissent from authoritative, noninfallible, hierarchical teaching has been fruitful, but it might be
put to rest or at least left in the protective custody of disciples while
Curran studies something new. His analysis of Paul Ramsey produced a
truly helpful volume in these days of ecumenical ethics; the full-length book
is surely preferable to the one chapter on Ramsey in Ongoing Revision. For
myself, I would like to see a full-blown development of Curran's interest
in pluralism and moral theology, especially as it touches the legal scene
in the United States; I am convinced that Curran has the seeds of helpful
insights to be drawn from Vatican Il's teaching on religious freedom. Or
he might do a study of the possibility of violence in the face of social
injustice; Curran has some pregnant suggestions on page 172 but much
greater study and development is needed.
Enough people are already producing fresh materials in medical ethics.
But what about divorce as a topic for more intense study by Curran? It
would be difficult for American Catholics to listen objectively to anything
Curran would say about an issue as emotionally provocative as divorce;
the most detailed objective arguments would face a skeptical reception

REVIEW ARTICLE

695

unless they favored a highly traditional approach. Curran, the scholar,
should steer away from research which will recall his courageous and outspoken defense of dissent; otherwise, his scholarship will go unappreciated
for a time.
I was sincere when I said earlier that it would be worthwhile for Curran
to opt for more popular tasks than academic research. The American
Catholic Church needs to be taught the moral truths only recently resurrected. Our positions on moral issues (be they contraception or abortion
or social justice or homosexuality or drug addiction) should not serve as
the primary indication of the quality of our Catholicism. Self-righteous
morality, for all its nobility and clarity and purity, is still self-righteous; by
definition the Christian is not self-righteous. No-one should doubt that
powerful Catholic people wish to return to the happier and safer days of
an unambiguous objective morality with which an individual could feel
comparatively certain as he judged his own activity and that of his neighbor. Many powerful people would like to bury the truth that one can
dissent from authoritative, noninfallible, hierarchical teaching; if they
succeed, they will have done a disservice to the Church and that disservice would be far more debilitating than anything Curran might do,
because it would be a suppression of the truth.
So many people continue to confuse the many levels of discourse which
surround the Christian moral life. Official teachers in the Church have
a duty and obligation to teach, but everyone should recall that part of
their teaching is that the utimate responsibility for moral decisions lies
with the individual conscience; Catholics should faithfully listen to the
Magisterium but they are never allowed to forfeit personal responsibility
for their own conscientiol.J.S judgments. There is too much official fear
of the individual conscience; American Catholic adults should be treated
as adults.
In fact, I judge that the matter of conscience is ultimately not the major
item of contention between Curran and his critics. Almost everyone agrees
that a responsible conscience must be open to the truth, must be duly
educated, must be " formed." Activity which is prima facie objectionable
is excused, if not condoned, whenever there is evidence that the person was
acting under physical, mental, or emotional duress or ignorance. Serious
people, including Curran, do not justify irresponsible behaviour by invoking
freedom of conscience.
The problem seems to be more that some people hear Curran (and
others) encouraging Catholics to act contrary to the authoritative, noninfallible, hierarchical teaching. 'The mention of Curran conjures up the
image of some moral rebel bent on ruining ecclesial harmony. That is
an unfair judgment when leveled at Curran, the scholar; providing intelligent underpinnings for a right to dissent is quite different from en-

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WILLIAM J. FINAN

couraging irresponsible dissent. Curran, the public moral agent, is perhaps
more apt for such fearful criticism. He showed courage in following his own
convictions; that courage became contagious as others acted consistently
with their own convictions, even when these were counter to the authoritative, noninfallible, hierarchical teaching. The truth is that Curran speaks
so much of t1.i.e right to dissent and he has indeed dissented whenever he
has judged it appropriate and others have sincerely followed his lead; from
this viewpoint, he can appear to be a rebel. In my opinion Ongoing
Revision witnesses to a tendency continually to look for defects, for mistakes, for errors, for weaknesses in ecclesial moral teaching; revision is
surely needed, but Curran's credibility is damaged when he abets the
appearance that he is bent only on revision.
There is a further aspect. We have seen already that the individual
conscience is ultimately responsible for moral decisions; hierarchical teaching
can never displace individual conscience. But there is another " challenge "
to authoritative, noninfallible, hierarchical teaching (if one grants the extended sense in which individual conscience is a " challenge " to that
teaching) . Curran frequently speaks of possible error in authoritative;
noninfallible, hierarchical teaching; his research led him to the conviction
that error can be present and Humanae Vitae was a timely opportunity
for Curran courageously to act out his convictions. We must simply grant
that Curran is quite accurate: error is possible. To deny the possibility
of error is to overestimate the human intelligence and discernment of our
official teachers. On the other hand, to insist on the possibility of error
is not to be unfaithful to the Church. The problem is that Curran can
sound as if error is to be found in every hierarchical statement; it can
almost seem that the primary task of the moralist is to expose the error
in hierarchical teachings. Of course, the hierarchy tires of such moralists.
What is the role of the moral theologian? Curran, referring to some not
uncommon ecumenical musings about Paul Ramsey, asserts that Ramsey
is more Protestant than some people think and that he (Curran) is more
Catholic than some people think.
I wholeheartedly accept the fundamental premise of (Roman Catholic) theology
which insists that God often and usually acts mediately with human beings-through the medium of ueation and not just through Jesus Christ, through the
medium of the ongoing tradition and not just through the revelation in scripture,
through the " koinonia " of the Christian Church with its hierarchical teaching
office and not just through an immediate I - Thou relationship between God and
the individual (p. 284) .

No doubt, Curran means what he says; he is surely more Catholic than
some people would judge him to be. However, it is not surprising that
to some Curran appears to place himself (and, in theory, all moralists)
on a level with the teaching hierarchy. I know of no easy way to balance

REVIEW ARTICLE

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(a) the right to dissent within a group which has inaccurately overemphasized compliance over against (b) faithful docility to hierarchical
teaching. Each attitude must be protected. If Curran appears to dissent
more than he is docile, that does not make him any worse than those
who bury dissenting convictions under a lopsided (and fundamentally
dishonest) docility. The moral theologian must be honest to his Church
and to himself. His dissent is cautious because his opinion is simply not
on a par with hierarchical teaching. His docility should not be inauthentic;
the Church needs to hear voices which continually search for fuller truth.
In general Roman Catholics need to recognize the provisional status
of authoritative, noninfallible, hierarchical teaching. Our first presumption
(contrary to Curran on page 55) is that such teaching is true, not false;
however, it is true only as far as can be discerned at the present time.
The immediate concern is not to search out error, but there is the honest
realization that no human statement can adequately cover all contingencies
of the human condition. Official teaching should not claim to be definitive
for all times; any impression that " the last word has been spoken "
should be explicitly avoided. Theologians like Curran cannot be faulted
for continually reminding us of the right to dissent when ecclesial documents make unreasonable truth claims. Our official teachers should state
the truth as they presently discern it without introductory or closing paragraphs which even remotely claim that the issue is forever settled; exaggerated truth claims are responsible for much of the confusion and pain
in the Catholic Church. If this path were followed by the official teachers,
it would be likewise reasonable to expect theologians not to attack
hierarchical teachings as soon as they are presented.
Someone must serve the Church by countering those who claim that the
final word has been spoken. If Curran opts for that role, his service will
be valuable; however, as we have already indicated, his value alil research
scholar will be diminished if not totally destroyed. The American Church
needs a renewal of scholarship in moral theology; happily, that renewal
appears to be maturing vigorously. I honestly believe that the American
Church needs even more to learn that individuals are responsible for their
own decisions and that each one always stands uncertain of his own
righteousness, but deeply trusting in a merciful God. In the long run,
when we look at the " average " American Catholic, the more dangerous
threat is not from those who insist on a right to dissent; it is from those
who would paint dissenters as unfaithful Catholics, lacking in docility to
a hierarchical teaching which has (to hear them talk) definitively spoken
the fullness of truth for all people of all ages. Seminary classrooms and
theological journals perhaps recognize and appreciate the right to responsible dissent; such an appreciation has certainly not been appropriated by
many less well-educated but equally faithful American Catholics. These
latter must be informed.

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WILLIAM J. FINAN

To this point this review has been primarily in response to the ninth
chapter of Ongoing Revision. I have drawn examples from other chapters
of the book as I have discussed how the relationship between Curran and
the American Catholic Church might also profitably be revised. Now
let me briefly respond to specific points which I consider significant.
Curran's discussion of "Cooperation in a Pluralistic Society" is truly
helpful. From one point of view this is a strikingly important issue for contemporary America. To what extent should the American government object to the rights-denying practices of foreign governments? To what extent
are stockholders responsible for the practices of large companies? One
question generated by the Watergate interlude was whether executive assistants are responsible when they carry out the possibly immoral policy of
the chief executive. More parochially, can Catholic hospitals permit (or
even encourage) sterilizations and abortions? Aware of the teaching on
religious freedom, Curran cautions that any discussion of cooperation should
focus on the moral agent rather than on the action; it does make a difference to say that I cooperate with a person (who has a right to follow
his own conscience) rather than that I am cooperating in a bad action.
Curran characteristically does not draw out all the implications, but he
is pointing in an inviting direction. Secondly, Curran distinguishes between
cooperation in sterilization (which he could approve) and cooperation in
abortion (which he could not approve). The significant point here is that
he offers a clear and defensible criterion for his distinction: " One cannot
immediately cooperate with another person to act in accord with this person's conscientious decision if such an action is going to cause disproportionate harm to another person or to the public order" (p.
.
Curran seems to deviate from this criterion when he discusses legislation concerning abortion earlier in the volume. He is arguing that there
should be no one Roman Catholic approach. I agree: while some argue
for a Constitutional amendment outlawing all abortions, I could easily
support a Catholic who would outlaw " abortion on demand " but would
not forbid abortion soon after a rape and/or abortion in situations where
the mother's health is genuinely and seriously threatened. Recognition of
religious freedom leads me to question the wisdom of legislating punishment for a rape victim who aborts the fetus, especially in cases where the
mother does not judge a fetus to be human. (Gentle compassion is essential even when the woman thinks the fetus is human.) At any rate,
I agree that there is no one Roman Catholic approach on abortion legislation. However, I reject the lengths to which Curran is willing to go in
showing respect for the religious freedom of others. He says: 'If such
a large number of people in our pluralistic society do not accept the fact
that human life is present in the fetus, then one might argue that there
should be no law against abortion, for an abortion law would unnecessarily

REVIEW ARTICLE

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restrict their freedom " (p. 135) • And again: " When one is confronted
with an issue in which a very large number of Americans believe they
should have freedom, then one can argue on the benefit of the doubt that
their rights should prevail" (p. 141). It seems that on the issue of abor·
tion legislation Curran must balance causing disproprotionate harm to (a)
another person and (b) the public order. (The criterion on cooperation
quoted above includes these two considerations and they are also listed
at the beginning of the discussion of abortion legislation.) He recognizes
that some people conscientiously do not judge abortion as harmful to
another human person and he also recognizes that the public order would
be harmed if the law prevented such people from procuring abortions (because their freedom of conscience would be restricted) . Hence, in effect,
Curran's discussion of abortion legislation considers only the matter of
the public order; ". . . it is the question of the civil law protecting and
preserving as far as possible the freedom of the individual and interfering
only when the public order requires it " (p. 137) . I strongly disagree.
If I am convinced that the fetus is human, then I should work for legislation to protect that human life. Avoiding disproportionate harm to what
I sincerely judge to be fetal human life is not a direct attack on the religious liberty of adults who disagree with me. The American political
process allows for discussion and democratic legislation; respect for the
conscientious convictions of others should not lead me to forfeit my own
conscientious convictions. I am not unaware of the complexity of this
issue, but I would give more weight to preventing harm to the other person
than Curran seems to do; in so doing, I would not want to go to the
opposite extreme of allowing disproportionate harm to the public order.
Curran explicitly mentions the possibility of dissent from the Catholic
teaching concerning treatment of the dying. Anyone who has read this
far knows that I agree with him on the right to dissent from the authoritative, noninfallible Magisterium; however, in this instance his view is less
cautious than the matter would seem to warrant. The point at issue: "I
grant there is an important difference between the act of omission and
the positive act of killing, but in my judgment at the point at which the
dying process begins there is no longer that great a difference between the
act of commission and the act of omission" (p. 160). He says all the
right things: there is still a difference between omission and commission,
and it is difficult to know truly when dying has begun. But implicit in
all this is the argument in favor of what has been called positive euthanasia.
But, though Curran glances towards positive euthanasia, he fails to provide a single truly substantive argument in favor of it; this runs the
risk of inviting too many undiscerning people to quote him as an authoritative Catholic theologian without recognizing that he has provided no
authority whatsoever for the opinion he might someday want to espouse.

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WILLIAM J. FINAN

Curran is surely aware of Ramsey's startling discussion in The Patient a
Pm-son (pages 161-168) , but Ramsey's arguments (for all their sympathy
and Sophistication) are ultimately not at all convincing. Curran should
not be speaking here of possible error in Church teaching on euthanasia
when he can suggest no evidence.
Finally some words about "sin." Curran in recent years has consistently
reminded Catholics of the reality of sin and for that reminder we should
be thankful. At first glance one might think that traditional Catholics
needed to be relieved of a preoccupation with sin; the days of Hell-fire
sermons and frequent introspective examinations of conscience are so recent. As a matter of fact, Curran does offer such relief; he consistently
has questioned any tendency to find serious personal sin in certain physical
actions. But at the same time as he seems to de-emphaize personal sins,
he introduces Catholics to a more Lutheran sense of sinfulness. We live
in the midst of moral evil and at times our decisions are tainted with such
evil.
In the long run this Lutheran awareness of sinfulness could be more important for the American Church than Curran's work on the right to dissent. Catholic moral theology has been deeply influenced by Aquinas's
dictum (borrowed from Pseudo-Dionysius): "Bonum ex integra causa,
malum ex quocumque defectu." For anything to be called good, it must
be good in every respect; introduce evil from any angle and the entire
reality can be called evil. Apply this to moral activity and the results are
stunning. No one can ever directly choose to do something which is evil;
if he does, his entire activity is evil. In our day the best example is in
areas of social injustice. We can identify the existing injustices, but as
soon as someone suggests remedial action, someone else will identify the
evil in the remedy. If we work to overcome racial prejudice in employment
or educational practices, someone will immediately cry " reverse discrimination." If a government oppresses some of its people (even violently),
those who suggest corrective measures may be accused of doing violence
to the government leaders. Examples are easily multiplied. The point here
is that anyone influenced by " Bonum ex integra causa, malum ex quocumque def'ectu " is often unable to act in the face of social injustice; any
proposed solution is itself evil and so it cannot be chosen. And so we
do nothing at all.
My first point would be that to do nothing at all is itself to opt for
an evil; to do nothing about existing injustice is evil. The careful person
who resists reverse discrimination is thereby choosing to allow direct discrimination to continue, and that is evil! The most careful person then
has still not avoided sin (in some sense).
It is here that Curran's reminders about sinfulness are so helpful. There
are some circumstance') in wliicli, evil simply cannQt be avoidedi sinful-

REVIEW ARTICLE

701

ness abounds but we must take action. One can almost hear the call to
sin boldly! In many situations Roman Catholics have employed the principle of double effect to resolve this dilemma. There are times, however,
especially in cases of social injustice, when rational principles become useless; we must admit and accept that whatever one chooses (even if one
chooses to do nothing) , he is choosing evil and to that extent is manifesting
human sinfulness.
I carefully avoid saying that the person is choosing to sin. The Catholic can never directly choose to sin; knowingly and willfully to act contrary to God's perceived will is indefensible. But it is likewise true that at
times one cannot avoid a sin-ridden situation; one must act even if some
form of evil will result. Again, I repeat that traditional moral theology
has recognized this reality as it developed the principle of double effect and
the criterion of choosing a lesser evil. Curran applies his theory of compromise to these situations where sinfulness is so evident.
My concern here is not so much to be explicitly critical as it is to call
for clarification. Curran is on to something helpful but he needs to precise his use of the term " sin." Obviously " sin " is not univocal for Curran.
We have already mentioned at least two evident meanings: (I) personal
sin and (2) the condition of sinfulness; the former implies far greater
individual responsibility than does the latter. The description of the theory
of compromise on page 186 seems to say that at times one has no choice
but to commit personal sin; if this is an accurate reading I would find it
out of place in any Catholic moral theology. However, Curran ends up
saying: " From one aspect, in the objective order the act is good because
in the presence of sin there is nothing else that can be done. However,
from another aspect one recognizes that the act should not be done if
there were no sinful situation present." Note the first sentence. If the
act is good, it simply cannot be a personal sin. It may involve some sort
of pre-moral evil, it may be an inexorable plunge into the muddy waters
of sinfulness, but a good action can never be a personal sin; destroying personal friendship with God is never good and can never be conscientiously
commanded. Hence, I would argue that Curran is speaking of sinfulness
rather than of personal sin when he applies the theory of compromise;
if that is an accurate reading, compromise easily finds a home in Catholic
moral theology.
Curran notes that there are three sources of conflict situations: (I)
human sinfulness, which we have just discussed, (2) human finitude, and
(3) the fact that the fullness of the eschaton is not yet here. The theory
of compromise applies to those conflict situations growing out of human
sinfulness. Curran is to be praised for identifying three sources of conflict
situations; his theory of compromise is more defensible when it is seen
not to be an effort to handle all conflict situations.

WILLIAM J. FINAN

However, just as his theory of compromise forces a clarification of his
use of " sin," so does his employment of the notion that the eschaton is yet
to come. When discussing divorce Curran says:
Often in the synoptic gospels the moral teaching points out the goal or ideal toward which we must strive, but pilgrim Christians will often fall short of that
goal. . . . Christian marital love shares and participates in the love of God for his
people and of Jesus for his Church. This is the truly imperative goal and ideal
toward which all marital love must tend. . . . But this side of the fullness of
the eschaton, the perfection of Christian love cannot always be attained. God's
love for us remains the model and the ideal, but our love will at times fall short
of that goal. . . . Some people will obviously fall short in their marital commitment because of personal sin-a point which can never be forgotten; but even
without personal sin it is not always possible for pilgrim Christians to live up to
the fullness of love (pages 103-105).

I have two questions. First, what is" personal sin" for Curran? I am fully
aware that he has discussed sin and sinfulness in his writings, but Ongoing
Revision convinces me that Curran does use" sin" in a non-univocal way.
I find nothing wrong with that (" sin " is traditionally spoken analogously
in " mortal sin," " venial sin," and " original sin ") , but Curran does need
to detail carefully his senses of " sin."
My second question is a bit more narrowly focused. How can Curran
speak of a " truly imperative goal and ideal" which is "not always possible?" Does God command the impossible? Is God's grace lacking? I
am not suggesting that pilgrim Christians can always love with the fullness
of love, but Curran has not proved to my satisfaction that pilgrim Christians will not always have sufficient love for this or that particular moment.
If the pilgrim Christian refuses to cooperate with God's grace, is that not
a personal sin? On the other hand, if the pilgrim Christian is for some
reason unable to cooperate with God's grace, is that not a case of human
finitude yielding a conflict situation? In other words, does not Curran's
category of the "not-yet eschaton " collapse when applied to divorce? I
am not opposed to theological attempts to relax the tension between (a)
the absolute indissolubility of marriage and (b) the real condition of many
couples. Such opposition would amount to nothing more than an unrealistic intransigence. But it must be asked, fairly, if Curran's eschatological perspective offers a satisfactory resolution.
WILLIAM

Dominican House of Studies
Washington, D. C.

J. FINAN, 0. P.

BOOK REVIEWS
Le Christ Hier, Aujourd'hui et Demain. Ed. by RAYMOND LAFLAMME ET
MICHEL GERVAIS. Les Presses de L'Universite Laval: Quebec, 1976.
$15.00.

At a time when German-speaking theologians seem to dominate the
theological scene not only in Europe but in North America as well, it is
good to see a collection of Christological essays appear from a rather quiet
part of the theological world: French Canada. In March of 1975 Laval
University in Quebec held a colloquium in Christology. This present volume
is the collection of papers given at that conference.
The volume contains twenty-two papers ranging over a wide variety of
Christological topics. Bernard Sesboiie begins by giving a clear and insightful overview of contemporary Christological thought. Bernard Lonergan
(he and Fredrick Crowe present the only articles in English) and Jacques
Doyon treat the topic of Christological methodology. Fredrick Crowe and
Jacques Gervais study the human mind and consciousness of Christ. The
immutability of God and the Incarnation is the topic of Michel Gervais's
very thoughtful paper. There are a number of articles on Biblical Christology. Paul-Emile Langevin gives a thorough discussion of Paul's statement in Romans 1:3-4 that Jesus "was made Son of God in power according to the spirit of holiness, by his resurrection from the dead." The
Christological significance of the literary structure of John's Gospel is
studied by Michel Roberge. Other biblical studies are Jean-Marie Archambault's treatment of Jesus's filial obedience, Evode Beaucamp's analysis
of Jesus as our Messianic Hope, and Andre Myre's discussion of Jesus
as the Eschatological Prophet. Two essays are of soteriological significance.
Jean-Guy Page looks at the relationship between Christ and the Church
with regard to salvation of the world. Politics and the life of Jesus is
the subject matter for Louis O'Neil's essay. The Christology of three theologians is also studied. The best is Jacques Doyon's treatment of Nicolas
of Cusa. Gilles Langevin takes a quick but penetrating glance at Karl
Rahner. Edmond Robillard gives a short but detailed presentation of
Ignatius of Antioch's Christology in his letter to the Ephesians.
The wide variety and range of the articles makes for interesting reading
in itself. More importantly, and what is surprising for such a large compilation of essays, is that almost all of them are of good quality. Only two
or three are disappointing. Because this writer is a systematic theologian,
he will consider the main articles bearing upon systematic subjects.
The springboard for Lonergan's article is Piet Schoonenberg's book, The

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Christ. Lonergan is concerned with the fact that Schoonenberg not only
maintains that Jesus is a man and person, but that Jesus is only a human
person to the exclm1ion of his divinity. To maintain that Jesus is a divine
person for Schoonenberg implies that Jesus is not fully human. To deny
Jesus's human personhood, which is at the very heart of what it means
to be human, is to deny the full humanness of Jesus which the Gospels and
Councils make clear is so important. By making distinctions between consciousness, subjectivity, and identity Lonergan tries to show how Jesus
can be fully human with a human subjectivity, and yet at the same time
be the Son of God in a full ontological sense. " Though his identity was
divine, still Jesus had a truly human subjectivity that grew in wisdom and
age and grace before God and man and that was similar to our own in all
things save sin" (p. 64).
What is important to remember and what Lonergan is at great pains
to maintain is that Jesus must be fully human because that is what the
Son of God has become and is. Jesus's importance lies in his identity.
If Jesus is not the Son of God existing as man, then the whole point and
importance of Jesus being a man is lost.
Beneath this explanation of Lonergan's is a deeper question. What sort
of incarnational act is it that brings about a oneness of identity and a
distinction of natures? This question is a real stumbling-block for many
theologians, since in many instances such an act when so conceived seems
to eliminate either the divinity or the humanity of Christ. They feel that
the way the incarnational act was so often understood in the past undermined the full humanity. Accordingly, Roger Lapointe, "La Postexistence
du Fils," and JelJ,n Richard, "'Fils de Dieu ': Reconsideration de !'interpretation adoptioniste," opt for an adoptionist Christology. They feel a
purely incarnational Christology establishes insoluble dilemmas which are
usually overcome to the detriment of the true humanity of Jesus as portrayed in the Gospels.
This same need to study the incarnational act is seen in Michel Gervais's
article: "Incarnation et immutabilite divine." It is a common feeling
today that unless ·God does change in becoming man he cannot really be
man, and likewise that unless God does change in becoming man his immutable perfection will overpower his humanity. It is God's immutable
perfection which keeps him far from the world and man, and when he
does enter time and history, he does so to the detriment of creation's and
man's integrity. With the immutability of God as a presupposition the
incarnational act is very often understood to be the coming together of
two incompatible extremes; hence either the full divinity or the full humanity must go.
Gervais rightly maintains that the biblical notion of God's immutability
is both moral and ontological. At the same time he wishes to show that

BOOK REVIEWS

705

this does not cancel out the other biblical data concerning God's dynamic
and active presence in time and history. The question of how it is possible to maintain both becomes critical in the Incarnation. As Gervais
states: "Ce probleme se pose avec particuliere acuite dans le Nouveau
Testament qui proclame Ia naissance temporelle du Fils de Dieu lui-meme "
(p. Q06).
Gervais very aptly points out that saying God is immutable does not
imply that he is static or inert in the Platonic or Aristotelian understanding
of God. For the Christian theist God's immutability implies a fullness of
life and vitality and not their absence. For Gervais it is the very perfection
of God which allows him to engage himself in time and history. This is
so much the case that in the Incarnation one can truly say that the history
of the man Jesus " est devenue I'histoire de Dieu lui-meme " (p. Qfl3) .
Gervais explains well how God's immutability is not incompatible with
the Incarnation. It is not detrimental to God's freedom, nor to his actual
relation to the world, nor to the reality of the Incarnation. However, he
mainly removes stumbling-blocks and opens up the possibility for a traditional understanding of the Incarnation. What is missing is a positive
account of the incarnational act which his arguments allow for.
The question then that needs to be studied concerning the incarnational
act in the light of Chalcedon is a metaphysical one. What is the nature
of an act whereby God truly is man, it is truly God who is man, and truly
man that God is? With this kind of question one runs into another difficulty. As Fredrick Crowe puts it: "Metaphysics is in the attic nowadays,
with other lumber from the ages" (p. 146). Crowe believes that because
of this anti-metaphysical climate, one must put aside metaphysics for
the time being and " move to other ground in the hope of finding a common
basis" (p. 147). One may move to other ground, but one should not
give up altogether on metaphysics just because some do not see its true
value. This is especially the case when the fundamental question is of
a metaphysical nature. It is senseless to try to find a non-metaphysical
answer to a metaphysical question.
To see the incarnational act as compositional, as the coming together
of two different modes of existence, one divine and one human, is to misinterpret the nature of the Incarnation. It is not a compositional union
of incompatible natures. For it to be such would demand the formation
of a tertium quid which would be neither God nor man. However, this
is how the Incarnation is many times conceived. In order to avoid such
an impossible union, theologians tend to opt for a moral union. This is
not a real answer since a moral union is not incarnational in any true
sense. What one has to grasp, and Chalcedon gives the clue, is that the
incarnational act is personal/existential. The Incarnation is the person
of the Logos taking on a new mode of existence, coming to exist as a

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man, and not the compositional union of natures or modes of being. In
the Incarnation the Logos as divine is not changed, nor is what he becomes,
man, attenuated. What is new is the mode of the Logos's existence. He
comes to exist as man. He comes to be a man.
Once this is grasped, what Crowe and J. Gervais have to say concerning
the human mind of Jesus and his vision of God as man has an ontological
backing. Jesus can have a true human mind, as Crowe wishes to maintain,
and his vision of God is not incompatible with his human psychological
development, as Gervais wishes to hold. This is so precisely because the
incarnational act is that of the Logos taking on a new mode of existence
and whatever pertains to that new mode of existence pertains to the Logos.
He has a human mind and human psychological development because
he exists as man.
Since the majority of these essays are in French, a certain regret must
be expressed. This book will not be read by many who might profit from
them, especially English-language-bound students. Perhaps this difficulty
might find remedy in a future translation.
THOMAS WEINANDY, O.F.M. Cap.
GeorgetO'Wn University
Washington, D. C.

The English Catholic Community: 1570-1850. By JoHN BossY. Oxford
University Press, 1976. Pp. 365. Text with appendices and standard
bibliography and indices. $24.95.
This book, the first known to the reviewer to treat specially the problem
of English Catholicism as an integrated phenomenon from the accession
of Elizabeth until the Catholic Restoration in 1850, is important for three
principal reasons. First, it advances a special hypothesis as to the peculiar
nature of the English Catholic Community and the development of ·
Catholic mentality over three critical centuries. Second, it advances a
general hypothesis regarding both Protestant and non-Protestant English
Dissent and places English Roman Catholicism in the latter and, thereby,
in the wider tradition of English Dissent. Third, it brings together important historical resources and a novel methodology to illumine the question of what English Roman Catholicism was, not merely as a religious
body and tradition but also as a social, cultural, political, economic, and
psychological phenomenon.
The method, though fundamentally that of traditional scholarly history,
leans strongly toward methodologies usually found in the social sciences;
hypotheses are framed with much attention to form and with a clear under-

BOOK REVIEWS

707

standing of how provisional is even the best hypothesis; and statistics
are widely invoked, sometimes to overturn traditional prejudices, at other
times to cast new light on received opinion.
The special hypothesis regarding English Catholicism is this: that the
Catholic Community in the period described must be looked on not as
a continuation of late-Medieval-early-Tudor Catholicism but as a new creature rising from the ashes of the old religious establishment and more
closely tied to its posterity than to its ancestry. Here the author goes
against the usual analysis which, in his opinion, strains for too many
connections between early Tudor Catholicism and Catholicism under Elizabeth, the Stuarts, and their successors. Of course some continuity is undeniable on pain of there being no such thing as history. The author
believes, though, that too much has been made of the sparse indications
of continuity and sets out to do more justice to the matter. He is realistic
about his hypothesis but notes-the reviewer thinks correctly-that a new
hypothesis is at least timely and healthy whether or not it proves to be
as successful as the traditional ones.
He discerns three periods of historical development and takes pains to
tie them to. social, economic, and political trends of the times. The first
period deals with the destruction of the old order and its gradual replacement by a missionary church. This runs roughly from 1570 to 1688. What
brought about the death of old forms and attitudes once Anglicanism had
become the favored denomination was, in the author's view, a shift in
power and influence from clerical to lay institutions, largely as a result
of the humanism of the times. Not only the great Catholic magnate families
but, even more significantly for the church as a mission society, the gentry
as a whole became the political, social, economic, and psychological center
of gravity. Strains of anticlericalism grew more pronounced as the laity
realized their new power over the disenfranchised clergy. The clergy rethere was a clear breach
plied with high-handed attitudes and by
between laity and secular clergy. The successes of the regular clergy only
salted secular wounds. And the mutual disaffection continued even into
the eighteenth century when a reversal of power and influence began to
take place.
The second period traces Catholic life in the age of the gentry (16001770) and there is some overlap with the first period, as the dating indicates. This era, unlike the first, was relatively stable. The lay society
continued to stand as the center of gravity while secondary power struggles
took place among the clergy as the regulars gained ascendancy over the
seculars. Of the two general classes of regular clergy, monastic and Tridentine, the author favors the latter, notably the Jesuits. Sometimes he
appears, in the reviewer's opinion, to deal unfairly with the monastic
clergy. For example, the Benedictines are credited with an identity crisis

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which drove one faction into an irrelevant monasticism and another into
virtual secularization. But the same split reaction was not peculiar to them
or even to the Jesuits. Indeed, the Jesuit mission suffered as much from
a similar identity conflict as did any monastic group cited. Surely the
Jesuit success lay in Jesuit piety.
Of greatest interest in this period is the author's treatment of the distribution of Catholics in England. We are accustomed to think of the
Catholic North and the Protestant South, of the Catholic agrarian society
and the Protestant industrial one, etc. And here the author takes some
statistical pains to set the record straight. He notes, from a county by
county survey, that Catholics were unevenly distributed throughout the
North and that the religion of many a manor house charged from Catholicism to Anglicanism and back again almost as often as a new generation
took over. Moreover, while the Catholic society of the North and Midlands
was predominantly agrarian and the industrial centers Anglican or dissenting Protestant, the reason Catholicism succeeded in agrarian society
was not that such society was more primitive, conservative, traditionalistic,
and naturally predisposed from its history, but because missionary efforts
were more successful there. This is an important point, if true, because
it disarms the criticism that a continuous tradition of English Catholicism
did endure-contrary to the special hypothesis-by showng that Catholic
successes were novel missionary successes. The author here cites a parallel
with Quakerism in the eighteenth century. Now the proper question, given
this, is why missionary success was so comparatively small in industrial
centers. Here the author's explanation is less convincing than is his
presentation. The urban character and proximity of the established church
cannot explain everything, because certain centers were Catholic by local
option. In addition, the Northwest remained virtually impervious to Roman
Catholicism but Protestant Dissent did occur and such dissent always implies the existence of some missionary spirit if not full missionary effort.
The author also tries to locate the Catholic search for identity in its
idiosyncratic adoption of fasts, days, and rituals, all reflecting a new
devotional piety. It may be that the peculiarity of Catholic practices was
a sign of self-identity for Catholics, but this can hardly be true of devotionalism in piety which predominated in the seventeenth century and
remains one of the significant interdenominational phenomena of the age.
The treatment of missionary and clerical questions is thorough and worth
reading, not least of all for the interesting statistics (pp. 208-229).
The third period runs from 1770-1850 and brings Catholicism to full
denominational status. During this period a number of important changes
occurred. The previous stability, in the author's view a reflection of social
and economic stability, had allowed the accumulation of lees. With the economic and political problems of the 18th century, though, the lees were

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709

stirred and a further reorganisation took place. Power began to pass from
the gentry back into the hands of the Catholic secular hierarchy. Great
Churchmen, notably Challoner, appeared. If the first period represented
an extrication from the medieval past and the second a formation during
a period of relative stability, the third period brought English Catholicism
into an age of adjustment to a modern world. Urbanism replaces bucolicism,
the missionary endeavor gains not only momentum but more organization,
and the gentry begin to supply an increasingly large number of their sons
to the ranks of the secular clergy; after 1770 the seculars gradually replace
the regulars in urban centers. In retrospect population changes mirrored
these dynamics. Between 1600 and 1650, the number of Catholics increased,
underwent a slight contraction from 1650 to about 1670 and then increased up into the eighteenth century. Matters improved with the Relief
Act of 1778, and the author notes that the Irish immigration from 1770 onwards did not so much transform the English Catholic Community as it
accelerated a transformation already induced by changes from within
English society and quite likely to continue whether there had been such
an immigration or not. The Irish were more catalytic than causative of
change. This brings the author into conflict with the Newman-Wiseman
hypothesis that the Catholicism of the 19th century was a second spring
filling a vacuum. He believes that this view is tendentious and ill-founded
because it grounds the Catholic renaissance in the wrong conditions and
does not do credit to a development already in evidence from before the
transitional date of 1770. Again, in line with the special hypothesis, the
author stresses continuity within Catholic Dissent and hesitates to look
either outside or back into the Middle Ages. With the restoration of the
hierarchy, the history is completed and the author now advances to his
general hypothesis regarding all English religious dissent.
English Catholic nonconformism is an instance of one of two alternatives to ecclesiastical tension rising from within the Established Church.
In his opinion, Protestant convictions have provided the spur to every
sizeable movement or revival of religious feeling in England. But there
has been a recurrent conflict between the institutional Church and the religious opinions predominant in the nation. Where the institution has not
been accommodating enough, the result has been separation and the growth
of dissenting Protestant bodies. By contrast, movements of reaction which
have periodically strengthened the hold of the institutional Church have
also given rise to dissent, but to dissent of a nonProtestant kind-in the
later years of Elizabeth to English Catholic Dissent.
Thus the Catholic community in the period described should be viewed
along a spectrum of dissent, some Protestant, some nonProtestant. Examples of Protestant dissent include Presbyterianism; examples of nonProtestant dissent include Catholicism, Quakerism, and Unitarianism. And
these facts preclude the treatment of English Catholics as a papist minority

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standing against both the Established Church and the other forms of religious dissent, both Protestant and nonProtestant. Indeed, to regard
English Catholicism as one among many dissenting sects is, whether right
or not, less tendentious than the alternative. The author concludes the
book with a charming sociological analysis of English dissent as supplied
by a visitor from another planet who has had the opportunity to survey
English religious behavior between 1570 and 1850.
Now the special hypothesis, however attractive and plausible, does not,
in the reviewer's opinion, explain anything which could not be explained
in other ways. In fact, it sometimes appears to ignore what may be
anomalous facts. For instance, in the provisions of the Relief Act of 1778,
Catholics are termed "protesting Catholic dissenters." Catholics so resented
this label thal! they had it stricken from the 1791 Relief Bill. Evidently
they did not regard themselves simply as a case of dissent. Other dissenting
factions have usually borne the epithet with longanimity. So the fact that
Catholics did not may tell against the special hypothesis, unless the Catholics of the time were mistaken in their view of themselves. And, even if
the special hypothesis can account for uncomfortable facts like this one,
its real advantage lies in its subsumption under the general hypothesis,
which, if true, is an elegant explanation of all of English Dissent. But
because of the structure of the argument, the plausibility of the general
hypothesis depends on the plausibility of the special, not vice-versa. And
an alternative special hypothesis which did regard English Catholicism
as standing against a non- (and sometimes anti-) Catholic monolith would
fragment English dissent enough to overturn the general hypothesis which
insists on a more egalitarian attitude toward the Catholic position. It may
be, though, that there is no general phenomenon of English Dissent and
that we are dealing with many separate phenomena.
The author's case is, however, masterfully argued. The writing is
careful and often dense. The treatment of particular issues, even if the
status of the special and general hypotheses remains problematic, is sympathetic and full of insight and feeling, for the author never loses either his
sense of humor or his compassion for the sufferings of human beings on both
the institutional and the dissenting sides of the religious question. The
book abounds in delightful vignettes of Catholic life. And even where
the prose is uninspired, it excites sympathy for the English Catholics who
have held on to their faith from Elizabethan times. Whether or not Catholics can claim blood descent from English dissenters, they can claim
fraternity of spirit. And this is always what has been of most importance
to thoughtful people of any nationality, any heritage, any cultural or religious persuasion.
NICHOLAS INGHAM,

Dominican House of Studies
Washington, D. C.

o. P.

BOOK REVIEWS

711

Ontologie der Innerlichkeit. Reditio Completa und Processio Interior bei
Thomas von Aquinas. By RETO L. FETZ. Freiburg: Universitatsverlag,
1975. Pp. 199. S.Fr.30.00.
This is a contribution to our understanding of two dialogues between
Thomas Aquinas and philosophers. The first is that between Thomas and
Neo-Platonism, with Thomas imbibing influential structures and ideas
from Neo-Platonism. The second is the conversation between Aquinas and
modern philosophy after Descartes and Kant. Karl Rahner's doctoral dissertation, Geist in Welt (which his professor, the Thomist, Honecker, found
unacceptable but which gained attention immediately upon its publication
in 1939), had examined in detail the relationship of Aquinas's epistemology
to transcendental philosophy, especially that of Kant. Rahner was particularly concerned with the relationship of the transcendental powers of
the intellect to their material, the world present in images and species. This
movement of the transcendental Thomists had been begun by J. Marechal
and was continued not only by Rahner but by Lonergan and Coreth. Here
is a further stage in the dialogue between Aquinas and post-Kantian philosophy. Fetz's introduction to his tightly composed book of two hundred
pages shifts the attention away from Kant to Hegel.
The German Idealists, Schelling and Hegel, knew little of medieval
thought, although the end of the Enlightenment had brought Romanticism's
enthusiasm for everything medieval. But this medieval replacement of
Hellenism was accomplished through the idealization of the late German
Middle Ages, even including the Reformation. In their profound indebtedness to Neo-Platonism, Schelling and Hegel knew more about Meister
Eckhart than about Thomas Aquinas, and Fetz refers to Hegel as the
" German Proclus."
Idealism saw itself as fulfilling what Kant had left undone, overcoming
those final dualisms (subject and object, morality and speculation) by
showing how spirit was the all-embracing paradigm. The task which Fetz
has set for himself is the examination of the radical interiority of the human
mind, the self-reflective power of spirit. He takes as his primary text
one from the Summa contra Gentiles IV (11) where, recalling the De Ente
et Essentia, Aquinas moves upwards through the hierarchy of being until
he reaches intellectual creatures. " Nam intellect us human us, etsi seipsum
cognoscere possit, tamen primum suae cognitionis initium ab extrinseco
sumit .... " The task of the book is to explain this inner process by which
the human mind can reflect upon itself beneath and within an object. In
this central text Aquinas describes intellectual life as an emanation. So
the human mind resembles the divine mind creative of the cosmos. Fetz
considers not only the self-penetration of the created spirit's intellectual
power but the externalization of the created intellect. For the objects of

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knowing come from without, and the human mind does not function without phantasms, even a phantasm of its own spiritual self-penetration.
Fetz introduces his chapters of difficult epistemology with a historical
study where Aristotle, Pseudo-Dionysius, Proclus and other Neo-Platonic
thinkers are considered. This concludes in a return to the text from the
SCG to see the influence of Neo-Platonism in Aquinas's thought. The two
major sections of the book treat procession, return, and externalization
in human knowledge. Finally, Fetz contrasts this process in the human
mind with the godhead.
The conclusion of Fetz's book indicates that in this area Aquinas is first
of all influenced by Neo-Platonic thought-from various sources but particularly from Augustine. What I missed at the end of the study were
some observations upon three further areas. First, the Trinity is the climax
of spiritual interior process. There the processes and the spiritual realizations are eternal and personal. The book stops short of this. Second, the
promise of some comparison with Hegel is not fulfilled. At least some
sketch of lines of comparison in this area between Aquinas and Idealism
is needed. Third, there is no mention of the relationship of mysticism to
this process of self-return in the ground of the soul. Again Meister Eckhart
comes to mind, for he too is strongly Neo-Platonic; he too is a bridge
between Scholasticism and Idealism. For Eckhart the ground of the soul,
the point of self-realization of the created spiritual powers, is not closed
and complete, but open. There we find the scintilla animae (a phrase
used by Aquinas and Plotinus) where nature allows grace to reduplicate
the very life of the deity: the generation by Father and through Spirit
of the Son. We can hope that Reto Fetz will use this work as the beginning for these further studies.
THOMAS FRANKLIN O'MEARA,

Aquinas Institute
Dubuque, Iowa

0. P.

BOOKS RECEIVED
Karl Alber Verlag: Schelling by Werner Marx. Pp. 156; no price given.
Allen and Unwin: Aristotle by John B. Morrall. Pp. 120; $14.50 cloth,
$6.50 paper.
Brill: Calvinism and Scholasticism in Vermigli's Doctrine of Man and
Grace by John P. Donnelly. Pp. 235; Gld. 68.00.
University of California Press: Reason and Argument by Peter T. Geach.
Pp. 99; $2.95.
Cornell University Press: Boethius's De Topicis differentiis, translated
with Essay and Notes by Eleonore Stump. Pp. 287; $18.50.
Fides/Claretian: Light on the Epi-stles; Light on the Gospels by John L.
McKenzie. Pp. 120; $4.95 each.
Fundaci6n Universitaria Espanola: Desenvolumiento y vitalidad de la
Iglesia, Vols. I-III by Juan G. Arintero, 0. P. Pp. 539, 538, 519;
no price given.
Harper and Row: The Celebration of Discipline by Richard J. Foster.
Pp. 178; $7.95.
International Society for Neoplatonic Studies: The Significance of' Neoplatonism edited by R. Blaine Harris. Pp. 370; $20.00.
Liiromedel: Glaube und geschichliche V erantwortlichkeit by Edgar Almen.
Pp. 475; D.M. 50.00 cloth, D.M. 28.35 paper.
Macmillan: Aristotle for Everyone by Mortimer Adler. Pp. 206; $8.95.
New York University Press: Ethical Writings of Maimonides by Raymond
Weiss and Charles Butterworth. Pp. 306; $28.50.
Martinus Nijhoff: Theory and Practice: An Essay in Human Intentionalities by Nathan Rothenstreich. Pp. 239; Gld. 37.50.
Open Court: Person and Object: A Metaphysical Study by Roderick M.
Chisholm. Pp. 230; $10.50.
Pontifical Institute of Medieval Studies: Gersonides on God's Knowledge:
A Translation and Commentary by Norbert M. Samuelson. Pp. 323;
$15.00.
Princeton University Press: The Mystery of the Mind: A Critical Study
of Consciousness by Wilder Penfield. Pp. 123; $3.45.
Regis College Press: Trinification of the World: A Festschrift in Honour
of Frederick E. Crowe edited by Thomas A. Dunn and Jean-Marc
Laporte. Pp. 329.
Scottish Academic Press: The Doctrine of the Trinity by Eberhard Jlingel.
Pp. 110; £3.25.

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