Medieval Philosophy
Medieval Philosophy
Medieval Philosophy
Contents
for many centuries copies of his writings virtually vanished. In the absence of actual books by
Plato, medieval philosophers looked to Plotinus for a summary of Platos views, unaware of how
original Plotinuss views were. Thus, many of the most important views that they attributed to
Plato were those of Plotinus. On the other hand, however, Christianity brought with it a cultural
and intellectual tradition from the land of Israel that was very much at odds with Greek ways of
thinking. At the heart of the difference was the Bible and its central themes of a monotheistic
God, life after death, and, perhaps most importantly, the idea of furthering the kingdom of God.
As Christian emperors took the throne, they took decisive measures to curb the influence of
cultural institutions that conflicted with the Christian message. Orders were given to destroy all
pagan temples and shut down schools of philosophy that had been in operation since the days of
Plato and Aristotle. What we find within medieval philosophy, then, is an interesting blend of
Greek and Christian views to the degree that thinkers of this period were able to make them
compatible.
Historians mark off medieval civilization as starting with the downfall of the Roman
Empire and ending with the founding of the Renaissanceroughly from the years 400-1500.
This range of time itself falls into three distinct periods, each of which impacted developments
within medieval philosophy. The first period is the early middle ages, from around 400-1000.
Often called the Dark Ages, it is characterized by tough times in the aftermath of the Roman
Empires fall, including localized rule, decreased trade, mass migration, and feudalism. While
this timeframe witnessed the Christianization of Europe, Islam was also rapidly enveloping the
surrounding regions, and, as with Christianity, Muslims developed their own philosophical
tradition that mixed Greek philosophy with their own faith tradition. The next period is the high
middle ages, from 1,000 to 1300, which experienced much better times. Population increased,
countries and regions regained political cohesion, intellectual thought was revitalized. Most
important for philosophy, though, was the emergence of medieval universities which became
centers of learning and gave birth to a distinct philosophical method called scholasticism, which
systematically blended philosophy and theology. The final period is the late middle ages, lasting
from 13001500. Times were again tough with economic stagnation, wars, and the Black Plague
that killed around half of Europes population. The unity of the Catholic church also came under
fire, which helped bring the middle ages as a whole to a close.
absurd, which he wrote when discussing a Christian doctrine about the nature of Christ that
went contrary to logic. His point is that reason obstructs our discovery of truth so much that we
should expect truths of faith to run contrary to it. Thus, reason is not just a dead end in the
pursuit of truth, but it is dangerously misleading. While Tertullian may have been content with
the faith-only position, other philosophers held that reason could be an important asset in
demonstrating some religious truths that we also know through faith.
A second issue of interest for medieval philosophers was proving the existence of God.
Many medieval philosophers argued that, while we can certainly believe in God on the grounds
of faith alone, there are rational proofs that we can also give to show Gods existence. Chief
among these is a causal argument: motion and change on earth trace back to a first cause, which
is God. Several versions of this argument were put forward, some with a particularly high level
of sophistication. Other proofs for Gods existence where also forthcoming, which used entirely
different strategies.
Third was the problem of religious language. Even if we know that God exists, can we
say anything meaningful about him with human language? We commonly describe God using
words like powerful and good, but all of these seem tainted by our limited human
experience. Should we give up describing God altogether? Should we reinterpret our descriptions
of God in special ways? The solutions that philosophers offered to this problem were both varied
and original.
The fourth issue is the problem of universals, namely whether concepts such as
greenness and largeness exist independently of human thought. The particular tree in front of
me is green and large. But there are lots of other particular things that are also green or large, and
thus in some sense share the more universal attribute of greenness or largeness. The question,
then, is whether universals such as greenness and largeness exist independently of human
thought in some external reality, or whether they are just products of the human mind. Medieval
philosophers held every possible view on the subject, and in many ways the problem of
universals represents medieval philosophy at its best.
B. AUGUSTINE
The first major medieval philosopher was Augustine (354430), who emphasized attaining
knowledge through divine illumination and achieving moral goodness by loving God. The details
of his life are openly laid out in his autobiography, titled Confessions, which even today is
considered a classic of world literature. He was born in the North African region of Tagaste to a
devout Christian mother and pagan father. For much of his youth, his middle-class parents'
greatest concern was affording a university education for him. Once having attained this difficult
goal, learning rhetoric at Carthage, Augustine's zeal for studying theology became his driving
force. But first came a period of trying out life's alternatives. To his mothers great displeasure,
he became entrenched in a new Persian religion called Manichaeism and then joined a group of
Neoplatonists. In both cases he sought to understand how evil could exist in a world that was
created by a good God. The Manichaean explanation was that the material world is inherently
evil, but through special knowledge from God we can rise above it. Neoplatonists argued that
evil results from the physical world being so far removed from God, and thus absent from his
goodness.
For fifteen years he lived with an woman and fathered a son; but when his mother
eventually convinced him to marry properly, he left his mistress. While awaiting his bride-to-be's
coming of age, he took up with yet another woman and prayed his famous prayer, "Grant me
chastity and continence, but not yet." But his marriage to either woman never transpired. While
teaching rhetoric in the city of Milan, he attended sermons of the Bishop of that region, which
gradually led to his Christian conversion. Returning to North Africa, he was drafted into the
priesthood by the locals for his popular preaching, and later became their bishop, devoting the
rest of his life to writing and preaching in that region. Augustine died at 75, even as invading
barbarian armies were tearing down the city walls of Hippo. Augustines literary output was
enormous, and he may be the most prolific writer of the ancient world. His most famous writings
are his Confessions and The City of God. While only a couple of his shorter works are devoted
exclusively to philosophy, most notably On Free Choice, many of his compositions are
interspersed with philosophical content, and from these a complex system emerges.
On none of these points do I fear the arguments of the skeptics of the Academy who say:
what if you are deceived? For if I am deceived, I am. For he who does not exist cannot be
deceived. And if I am deceived, by this same token I am. [City of God, 11:26]
His point here is simple: no matter how deceived I amsuch as through hallucinations or flawed
sensory perceptionI still have to exist in order to be deceived. This knowledge is so obvious
and self-evident that it enables me to go one step further and say that I know that I know.
Knowledge is thus an indisputable fact.
In addition to knowledge of ones own existence, we also have certainty in three key
areas: math, logic and immediate sense experience. Mathematical truths, such as three times
three is nine, are so compelling that it is impossible to doubt them. So too with logical truths:
I have learned through dialectic [logic] that many other things are true. Count, if you can,
how many there are: If there are four elements in the world, there are not five; if there is
one sun, there are not two; one and the same soul cannot die and still be immortal; man
cannot at the same time be happy and unhappy; if the sun is shining here, it cannot be
night; we are now either awake or asleep; either there is a body which I seem to see or
there is not a body. [Against the Academics, 3:13]
While Augustine recognizes that sense perceptions themselves are not always trustworthy, he
nonetheless maintains that reports of immediate experiences are indisputable, such as the snow
appears white to me. Even if in reality the snow happens to be a different color, what remains
true is that I perceive it as white. He writes:
I do not know how the [skeptical] Academician can refute him who says I know that this
appears white to me, I know that my hearing is delighted with this, I know that this has an
agreeable odor, I know that this tastes sweet to me, I know that this feels cold to me.
[Ibid 3:11]
These areas of knowledge, then, seem to be completely indisputable because of the selfevident nature of their specific truths. There are other areas of knowledge, though, that lack this
self-evidence and may indeed be fallible, such as the truths themselves of what our senses report,
and also the knowledge that we gain through the testimony of other people. Nevertheless, he
argues, in view of how much important information they provide us, we can have reasonable
confidence in them as reliable sources of knowledge. Regarding our senses, he argues, Far be it
from us to doubt the truth of what we have learned by the bodily senses, since by them we have
learned to know the heaven and the earth, and those things in them which are known to us. So
too with the knowledge that we gain through the testimony of other people. While the reports of
some people cannot be trusted, testimony is nonetheless an indispensable source of knowledge.
He writes, Far be it from us too to deny that we know what we have learned by the testimony of
others: otherwise we would not know that there is an ocean, or that the lands and cities exist
which numerous report mention to us (On the Trinity, 15).
Granted, then, according to Augustine we can know many things indisputably and other
things with at least a high degree of certainty. While certainty in these areas seems to be a natural
part of human thinking, knowledge of other types of truth require special help from God before
we can grasp them. God illuminates our minds to enable us to see these truths, and Augustine
succinctly describes this theory of divine illumination here: The mind needs to be enlightened
by light from outside itself, so that it can participate in truth, because it is not itself the nature of
truth. You will light my lamp, Lord (Confessions, 4:15:25). Human nature is limited, Augustine
believes, and thus were not in a position by ourselves to comprehend the most important ones.
Truths regarding virtuous living and religious faithfulness are cases in point: Among the objects
of the intellect, there are some that are seen in the soul itself, for example, virtues which will
endure, such as piety, or virtues that are useful for this life and not destined to remain in the next,
as faith (Commentary on Genesis, 31:59). For us to grasp these truths, God illuminates our soul,
which triggers a special intellectual vision by which we can see them. While Augustine is quite
clear that humans stand in need of divine illumination, he is less clear about how this process
takes place. Does divine intuition unleash a flood of specific innate ideas in our minds? Is it more
like a capacity that allows us to detect and zoom in on the truth? One recent interpretation is that
we first develop beliefs on our own, and then God illuminates our minds so that we can see if
they are true or false; God provides the justification for our beliefs.
Time
Augustine is one of the first philosophers to have speculated about the nature of time. Time, he
says, is something that everyone experiences and is intimately familiar with. We feel the passage
of time throughout the day, we note the lengths of time that it takes for things to happen, we can
distinguish between short and long amounts of time. However, once we try to explain exactly
what time is, we are at a loss. What then is time? If no one asks me, I know. If I wish to explain
it to someone that asks, I do not know (Confessions 11:14). There are two main ways that we
can view the nature of time. First, we might think that it is objective, and part of the external
nature of the world itself. Past, present and future are realities. Second, we might think of time as
merely subjective, existing only as a product of our minds. While it is tempting to go with the
first interpretation, Augustine goes with the second: time has no meaning apart from our minds.
The reason is that the past no longer exists, and the future is not yet here. He writes,
These two times then, past and future, how can they exist since the past is gone and the
future is not yet here? But if the present stayed present, and never passed into time past,
then, truly, it would not be time, but eternity. Suppose that time present (if it is to be time)
only comes into existence because it passes into time-past. How, then, can we say that it
exists, since its existence is caused by the fact that it will not exist? We cant truly say
that time is, then, except because it tends towards non-being. [Ibid]
It is as though everything that occurs will instantly evaporate with the passing of the present
moment.
The extent to which the past and future are real at all, they must be embedded in the
present momentsince the present is all that really exists:
It is now plain and evident that neither future nor past things exist. Nor can we properly
say, there are three times: past, present, and future. Instead, it we might properly say
there are three times: a present-of-things-past, a present-of-things-present, and a
present-of-things-future. [Ibid 11:20]
When we speak about the past, present and future, we need to connect them all to the present
moment. The past involves only memories that we have in the present, and, thus, we should call
this the present-of-things-past. The future involves only mental anticipations of what might
come, and we should call this the present-of-things-future.
if God is good, then it seems that he cant be the source of evil. Thus, there is a conflict between
Gods power and goodness on the one hand, and the presence of suffering on the other. How can
we resolve this conflict? The first step, for Augustine, is to recognize that God has only an
indirect role in the cause of some suffering, as he explains here:
[You ask whether God is the cause of evil. In response,] if you know or believe that God
is good (and it is not right to believe otherwise) then he does no evil. Further, if we
recognize that God is just (and it is impious to deny it) then he rewards the good and
punishes the wicked. Such punishments are indeed evils for those who suffer them.
Therefore, if no one is punished unjustly (this we must believe since we believe that this
universe is governed by divine providence) it follows that God is a cause of the suffering
of some evil, but in no way causes the doing of evil. [On Free Choice: 1:1]
For Augustine, Gods goodness means that he does no evil. Yet, Gods justness means that he
rewards good and punishes evil. Thus, God indeed causes some suffering through punishment,
but he is not the cause of evil actions themselves.
The cause of evil itself, according to Augustine, is the human will, and thus all blame for
it rests on our shoulders, not on Gods. We willfully turn our souls away from God when we
perform evil deeds: look for the source of this movement and be sure that it does not come
from God (On Free Choice, 2:20). Even the punishment that God imposes on us for our evil is
something that we brought on ourselves, since punishment is used in such a way that it places
natures in their right order (On Free Choice, 3:9). Thus, a first solution that Augustine offers to
the problem of evil is that human will is the cause of evil and reason for divine punishment. A
second and related solution is that the evil we willfully create within our souls is only a
deprivation of goodness. Think of Gods goodness like a bright white light; the evil that we
humans create is like an act of dimming that light, or shielding ourselves from it to create an area
of darkness. It is not like weve created a competing light source of our own, such as a bright red
light that we shine around to combat Gods bright white light. Accordingly, the evil that we
create through our wills is the absence of good, and not a substantive evil in itself. Augustine
writes, That movement of the souls turning away, which we admitted was sinful, is a defective
movement, and every defect arises from non-being (On Free Choice, 2:20). Drawing from
Plotinus, non-being is Augustines term for the complete absence of God.
Yet a third solution to the problem of evil is Augustines suggestion that the
apparent imperfection of any part of creation disappears in light of the perfection of the whole.
To explain, Augustine considers a common objection that God seems to be the source of
suffering when our young children die with no clear purpose. His response is this:
In view of the encompassing network of the universe and the whole creation (a network
that is perfectly ordered in time and place, where not even one leaf of a tree is
superfluous) it is not possible to create a superfluous person. . . . Moreover, who knows
what faith is practiced or what pity is tested when these childrens sufferings break down
the hardness of parents? We do not know what reward God reserves in the secret places
of his judgment for these children . . . . [On Free Choice, 3.27]
Augustine is saying here that troubling events such as the suffering of children are part of a
larger system of things in the world, and even these events have a place in contributing to the
good of the whole. If we were capable of grasping the entirety of the creation, we would then see
the role that each thing plays in the greater scheme of things, contributing to its total perfection.
The tension between God and evil is just one of the problems surrounding Gods
attributes. Another that Augustine considers is the possible conflict between Gods
foreknowledge and human free will. If God knows ahead of time what I will do at midnight
tonight, then when the time comes I must do that, and thus have no free choice. The problem can
be laid out more precisely as follows:
1. If God foreknows all events, then all events happen according to a fixed, causal order.
2. If all events happen according to a fixed, causal order, then nothing depends on us and
there is no such thing as free will.
3. God foreknows all events, hence there is no such thing as free will.
Augustines solution is to distinguish between two distinct things about my future decisions that
God might focus on. On the one hand, God might focus on and foresee my actions, in which case
it looks as though my actions are already causally fixed on the timeline. On the other hand,
however, God might focus on and foresee what my choice will be, what mental decision I make.
By foreseeing my choice, God is focusing on a free will decision that will be left to me in the
future. Thus, God's foreknowledge of my actions is dependent upon what my choice will be, and
not on my action itself. He explains this here:
Since God foreknows our will, the very will that he foreknows will be what comes about.
Therefore, it will be a will, since it is a will that he foreknows. And it could not be a will
unless it were in our power. Therefore, he also foreknows this power. It follows, then, that
his foreknowledge does not take away my power; in fact, it is all the more certain that I
will have that power, since he whose foreknowledge never errs foreknows that I will have
it. [On Free Choice, 3:3]
For Augustine, the issue comes down to this. Suppose that I somehow foreknew what choice you
would make tomorrow at noontime. Would that necessitate you doing it? Clearly not. Thus,
Gods foreknowledge of your choice does not interfere with your freedom any more than my
foreknowledge of your choice would.
When the miser prefers his gold to justice, it is through no fault of the gold, but of the
man; and so with every created thing. For though it is good, it may be loved with an evil
as well as with a good love: it is loved rightly when it is loved with proper order; evilly,
when disordered. [City of God, 15:22]
Not only is properly ordered desire central to morality and virtuous conduct, but it is also
the cornerstone to a good and just society. Augustines political views are mapped out in his book
The City of God, which he initially wrote against Roman pagans who blamed the 410 fall of
Rome on the domination of Christianity within society and their abolition of polytheistic
worship. According to Augustine, we need to see society as consisting of two cities or cultures:
an earthly one and a heavenly one. The defining difference between the two is that citizens of the
earthly city are motivated by disordered desire, while those of the heavenly city have properly
ordered desires. He writes,
Two cities have been formed by two loves: the earthly by the love of self, even to the
contempt of God; the heavenly by the love of God, even to the contempt of self. The
former, in a word, glories in itself, the latter in the Lord. For the one seeks glory from
men; but the greatest glory of the other is God, the witness of conscience. The one lifts up
its head in its own glory; the other says to its God, You are my glory, and you lift up my
head. In the one, the princes and the nations it subdues are ruled by the love of ruling; in
the other, the princes and the subjects serve one another in love, the latter obeying, while
the former take thought for all. The one delights in its own strength, represented in the
persons of its rulers; the other says to its God, I will love you, Lord, my strength. [City
of God, 14:28]
The Roman Empire itself, he argues, is a perfect example of an earthly city that overindulged in
disordered desires. This led to immorality, vice, crime, and its ultimate downfall. Citizens of the
heavenly city, who have properly ordered desires, realize that the only eternal good is found in
God. They live by faith and look for those eternal blessings which are promised (City of God,
19:17)
People of the heavenly city are obviously forced to live here on earth among rival
members of the earthly city. However, they consider themselves as resident aliens and follow the
laws and customs of the society they in which they dwell, but do not settle down to enjoy them.
He writes, So long as the heavenly city lives like a captive and a stranger in the earthly city . . .
it does not hesitate to obey the laws of the earthly city, whereby the things necessary for the
maintenance of this mortal life are governed (ibid). The earthly city at its best seeks peace in
this life, a necessary condition for happiness. Accordingly, the earthly city, which does not live
by faith, seeks an earthly peace, and the end it proposes. . . is the combination of mens wills to
attain the things which are helpful to this life (ibid). The heavenly city makes use of this peace
only because it must.
identity, scholars now know that this was just a pseudonym, and thus we refer to him as PseudoDionysius. The cornerstone of his religious mysticism is his view that a direct experience of God
is so blinding and overpowering that it leaves us in what he calls both an unapproachable light
and a dazzling darkness. The experience is darkness insofar as we are incapable of
describing anything concrete about it; it is ineffable, meaning that it is unspeakable. Similar to
Plotinus, Dionysius maintains that we must describe God by way of negation.
In his short work titled Mystical Theology, he discusses the limits of religious language
and presents a two-step process that we must take when describing God. First, we begin with
positive descriptions by which we attempt to say what God is, such as by saying that God is
powerful. Second, realizing the inadequacy of our positive descriptions, we then proceed
negatively by denying the positive ascriptions that we made; for example, we deny that God is
powerful as humans understand the term power. Thus, the more we deny our positive
descriptions of God, the closer we get to an understanding of God.
Regarding our positive descriptions of God, Pseudo-Dionysius says that there are three
types of descriptions that we can make. First, there are what we can call theological attributes of
God, where, as scriptures indicate, we can refer to God as father, son, and holy spirit. These
descriptions are quite profound and seem to point at the very essence of God. However, they are
also obscure notions that offer us little detail about Gods nature. Next, there are what we can call
philosophical attributes, such as that God is powerful, wise, good. These are slightly less
profound descriptions of God, but at least they give us a bit more detail about Gods nature.
Finally, there are blatant human metaphors that we use to describe God, such as with scriptural
passages that refer to God as sleeping, angry, grieved, or enraged. These are the least profound
descriptions; theyre trivial and often superfluous. On the other hand, they offer us the greatest
amount of detail that we can grasp with our normal human mental capacity.
So much for our positive descriptions of God. The next step is to recognize that all three
groups of these descriptions are flawed and offer distorted views of God. As Plotinus suggested,
God himself is incapable of direct description because of his pure and simple perfection, and the
best we can do is describe God negativelyby saying what he is not. Pseudo-Dionysius agrees,
and suggests that we begin by denying the blatant human metaphors that we use to describe God:
he has no emotions as humans understand them. Thus, we must recognize that he is not a body,
nor has he form or shape, or quality or quantity or mass; he is not localized or visible or tangible;
he is neither sensitive nor sensible; he is subject to no disorder or disturbance arising from
material passion (Mystical Theology, 4). By denying these particular features of God, a more
accurate image of him emerges. It is much like how a sculptor begins by chipping away at a
block of stone, removing the parts that arent quite right, and eventually produces a clear image
of a statue. Next we deny the philosophical attributes: he is not power, knowledge, or goodness
as humans understand the terms. Finally, we deny theological attributes: he is not father, son, or
holy spirit as humans understand the terms.
Through these successive steps of first affirming then denying Gods attributes, PseudoDionysius argues that we climb higher and higher towards an understanding of God that rests on
a mystical experience of the divine as we approach him. God himself, though, can never be
adequately described: for the perfect and sole cause of all is above all affirmation, and that
which transcends all is above all subtraction, absolutely separate, and beyond all that is (Mystical
Theology, 5).
I shall avoid investigating (a) whether genera and species [i.e., universals] are real or are
situated in bare thoughts alone, (b) whether as real they are bodies or incorporeals, and
(c) whether they are separated or in sensibles and have their reality in connection with
them. Such business is profound, and requires another, greater investigation.
[Introduction to Aristotles Categories]
In the above passage Porphyry lists possible ways of understanding how universals might exist,
and Boethius refined these into three positions. The first position is that universals such as
greenness exist outside of our minds and even separately from bodies physical bodies such as a
green tree. This is the classic position taken by Plato who held that abstract notions such as
greenness exist in the non-physical realm of the Forms. The term for this option is universals
ante rem, Latin for before the thing. Position two is that universals are intrinsicor built into
physical things. For example, the universal greenness is found in all green individual
objects, such as trees and grass. This is the view taken by Aristotle, and the term for this position
is universals in re", Latin for in the thing. The third position is that universals exist only as
concepts in the human mind, and not in any real way in the external world. We abstract them
from particular things, such as when after viewing several green trees I form the mental
abstraction of greenness. The official term for this is universals post rem, Latin for
following the thing. These three positions on universals, as laid out by Boethius, became the
definitive options of further discussion on the subject by later medieval philosophers as they
defended one of these positions against the others. So, which of these three views did Boethius
think is right? Its not clear. He criticizes them all on various grounds, but in one of his writings
he seems to go along with Aristotle, and in another with Plato.
Boethius was particularly influential on one other philosophical issue, that of the conflict
between divine foreknowledge and free will. Again, the problem here is that if God knows what I
will do before hand, then that event must happen, and I have no free will to do otherwise.
Boethius has an ingenious solution to this problem: God stands outside of time and thus knows
what I will do by viewing the whole timeline at once; this does not constrain our free choices.
This solution rests on a unique conception of Gods attribute of eternality. Consider these two
conceptions of what it means to be eternal: (1) endless existence on the timeline, and (2)
existence completely outside of time. To say that God is eternal in the first sense means simply
that at any point that you pick in the time line, God existed or will exist at that point. God moves
through time along with me and everything else in the world. The second notion of eternality
places God completely outside of the timeline and suggests that the phenomenon of time does
not even apply to God. Boethius goes with this second notion of Gods eternality: eternity is the
possession of endless life, whole and perfect at a single moment (Consolation of Philosophy,
5:6).
Once we adopt this second view of Gods eternality, according to Boethius, the conflict
between foreknowledge and free will disappears. God does not foresee my future actions by
peeking down the timeline with a special telescope. Rather, he inspects the entire timeline at
once, which includes the free will choices that I make at the moments that I make them.
Since God stands forever in an eternal present, his knowledge, also transcending all
movement of time, dwells in the simplicity of its own changeless present. It embraces the
whole infinite sweep of the past and of the future, contemplates all that falls within its
simple cognition as if it were now taking place. And therefore, if you will carefully
consider that immediate presentment whereby it discriminates all things, you will more
rightly conclude that it is not foreknowledge as of something future, but knowledge of a
moment that never passes. . . . Thus, the divine anticipation does not change the natures
and properties of things, and it beholds things present before it, just as they will hereafter
come to pass in time. [Ibid]
For Boethius, then, it is misleading to even call this divine foreknowledge since this wrongly
implies that God is looking into the future. Instead, it is an outlook that embraces all things as
from some lofty height (ibid).
D. ANSELM
Anselm (10331109) made his mark in the history of philosophy for developing what is now
called the ontological argument for Gods existence. He was born to a noble family, owners of
considerable property in the city of Aosta in the Italian Alps. His virtuous mother faithfully
provided young Anselm with religious training and inspired in him a love of learning. In
contrast, his father was a harsh man with a violent temper. At 14 years of age Anselm sought
admission to a monastery, but the abbot, fearing trouble from his father, refused him without
paternal permission. The boy was so desperate, he prayed for an illness, hoping the monks would
pity him and change their minds. He got half his wish. He became ill, but was still not accepted.
This, and the death of his mother, resulted in Anselm leaving his studies for a more carefree life.
By age 23, he could take his fathers abuse no longer and left, wandering for three years through
the region. He then entered the Benedictine abbey at Bec, Normandy, as a novice, and in a few
short years became its Prior. He was later enthroned as archbishop of Canterbury. However,
when the King refused to free the church from royal control, Anselm went into exile in protest.
When the King died, the subsequent ruler called Anselm back, but the terms were no different,
and so Anselm remained in exile. Throughout this time he wrote many short works. At the time
these did not receive their deserved appreciation, but are now considered great achievements.
Anselms writings are in the form of dialogues and meditations, the most important of which are
his Monologium and Proslogium.
Anselm followed Augustines view of the relation between faith and reason: faith seeking
understanding. Thus, Anselm writes I hold it to be a failure in duty if after we have become
steadfast in our faith we do not strive to understand what we believe." In his effort to understand
his faith, he was consumed with the idea of proving Gods existence, and, in his first effort to do
so, he offers a proof from absolute goodness. He presents the basic intuition behind this
argument here:
Since there are goods so innumerable, whose great diversity we experience by the bodily
senses, and discern by our mental faculties, must we not believe that there is some one
thing, through which all goods whatever are good? [Monologium 1]
The argument takes its inspiration from Platos view of the Form of the Good. According to
Plato, all good things that we see around usa good person, a good photograph, a good meal
obtain their goodness by participating in perfect form of Goodness that exists in a non-physical
realm. Anselm agrees, and he draws attention to the fact that the same kind of things often differ
in their degree of goodness. Some people are very good, others not so much. Some meals are
good, others not so much. The standard of goodness, then, must come from some outside source
which is always perfectly good, and that perfectly good source is God.
Ontological Argument
Although Anselm believed that this argument successfully proved Gods existence, he also felt
that it was a little too cluttered. It first requires us to experience various good things in the world,
then assess their differing levels of goodness, then finally draw the conclusion. Perhaps, Anslem
thought, he could do better and construct a more self-contained argument: I began to ask myself
whether there might be found a single argument which would require no other for its proof than
itself alone (Proslogium, Preface). This indeed is what he accomplished in his Ontological
Argument for Gods existence, which even today stands as one of the greatest arguments in the
history of philosophy. It doesnt require us to experience anything through our senses. Rather, it
simply begins with a definition of God, and draws its conclusion directly from that definition.
Although the argument is quite self-contained, it is a bit challenging to grasp its central point as
he presents it here:
Even the fool [who says in his heart there is no God] is convinced that something exists
in the understanding, at least, than which nothing greater can be conceived. For, when he
hears of this, he understands it. And whatever is understood, exists in the understanding.
And assuredly that, than which nothing greater can be conceived, cannot exist in the
understanding alone. For, suppose it exists in the understanding alone: then it can be
conceived to exist in reality; which is greater.
Therefore, if that, than which nothing greater can be conceived, exists in the
understanding alone, the very being, than which nothing greater can be conceived, is one,
than which a greater can be conceived. But obviously this is impossible. Hence, there is
no doubt that there exists a being, than which nothing greater can be conceived, and it
exists both in the understanding and in reality. [Proslogium, 2]
2. The Greatest Possible Being must have every quality that would make it greater (or
more superior) than it would be otherwise.
3. Having the quality of real existence is greater than having the quality of imaginary
existence
4. Therefore, the Greatest Possible Being must have the quality of real existence.
Premise one gives a definition of God. Anselms actual wording is that God is that than which
nothing greater can be conceived, which more concisely means simply that God is the greatest
possible being. Premise two rests on the notion of a quality that makes something great: to
possess it makes you greater than to lack it. Having the quality of strength makes a bridge greater
than it would be if it lacked it. Having the quality of healthiness makes be greater than I would
be if I lacked it. By definition, the Greatest Possible Being must have every quality that would
make it great. Premise three states that existence is a quality that makes something great.
Having a real gold coin in my pocket is greater than just imagining to have one. By existing in
reality, I am greater than I would otherwise be if I only existed in someones imagination. The
conclusion that follows is that the Greatest Possible Being must have the quality of real
existence: if it lacked it, it could have been greater. That is, it would be the Greatest Possible
Being that could have been greater, which is a contradiction.
Anselm recognizes that existence is just one quality that makes something greater than
it would be otherwise. Another such quality is ultimate power, and, thus, we can reword premise
3 with this quality:
3.1. Having the quality of ultimate power is greater than having limited power.
Thus, the Greatest Possible Being must also have the quality of ultimate power. So too with
ultimate wisdom, and ultimate goodness. Anselm writes that the Greatest Possible Being is just,
truthful, blessed, and whatever it is better to be than not to be. For it is better to be just than not
just; better to be blessed than not blessed (ibid, 3). Anselm uses this strategy to show that, not
only does the Greatest Possible Being exist, but it exists necessarily; that is, it would be
impossible for him to not existor, as he words it, it cannot be conceived not to exist (ibid).
Thus, again, we can reword premise 3 with this quality:
3.2. Having the quality of necessary existence is greater than having contingent existence.
The term contingent existence, as used above, refers to things that just happen to exist, but
dont need to exist, such as me, the chair Im sitting on, and every other physical thing in the
world. That is, we can conceive of a universe where none of these things existed. By contrast,
necessary existence has to do with things whose non-existence is impossible. Mathematical
concepts such as 2+2=4 might be examples of these, since it is impossible for these notions to be
false. Anselms point above is that necessary existence is superior to mere contingent existence,
and thus the Greatest Possible Being must have the quality of necessary existence.
Guanilos Criticism
As Anselms writings circulated, a monk named Guanilo had trouble accepting Anselms
argument. While Guanilo certainly believed that God existed, he felt that Anselms argument was
flawed, and thus tried to expose the problem. Guanilo suggests that we should imagine a
mythological lost island that we might define as The Greatest Possible Island. By plugging
this definition into Anselms ontological argument, we could then prove the existence of that
island. Guanilo writes,
You can no longer doubt that this island which is more excellent than all lands exists
somewhere, since you have no doubt that it is in your understanding. And since it is more
excellent not to be in the understanding alone, but to exist both in the understanding and
in reality, for this reason it must exist. For if it does not exist, any land which really exists
will be more excellent than it; and so the island already understood by you to be more
excellent will not be more excellent. [Ibid, Guanilo]
Following the argument structure above, the parallel argument that Guanilo offers is this:
The larger point of Guanilos criticism is that Anselms type of argument is so flawed that it
would show the existence of the greatest possible anythingthe Greatest Possible Shoe, the
Greatest Possible Unicorn, the Greatest Possible Eyebrow.
Anselm gave an extensive reply to Guanilo, attempting to show that the argument format
only works with The Greatest Possible Being and not with things like islands.
That being alone, on the other hand, cannot be conceived not to exist, in which any
conception discovers neither beginning nor end nor composition of parts, and which any
conception finds always and everywhere as a whole. . . . So, then, of God alone it can be
said that it is impossible to conceive of his nonexistence; and yet many objects, so long as
they exist, in one sense cannot be conceived not to exist. But in what sense God is to be
conceived not to exist, I think has been shown clearly enough in my book. [Ibid, Reply]
Anselms reply seems to be this. The argument structure only works with the Greatest Possible
Being, since only being is capable of having ultimately great qualities, such as necessary
existence. An island, by contrast, is a finite and limited thing that is composed of parts, and is
thus incapable of having ultimately great qualities. The very notion of The Greatest Possible
Island is self-contradictory since it attempts to impose the greatest possible qualities on a finite
thing. Again, only the notion of being is capable of having ultimately great qualities piled onto
it. Thus, only one version of the argument worksthe one that focuses on the greatest possible
beingand this is an argument that proves specifically proves the existence of God.
Averroes is the Latin name of the Spanish-Muslim philosopher Ibn Rushd (1126-1198), who best
remembered for his view that philosophers are best suited to interpret scripture. He was born into
a prominent family of judges in Cordova Spain, which was then under Arab control. Schooled in
philosophy, Islamic Law and medicine, he made a name for himself in all three of these areas
throughout his life. In philosophy he was commissioned to write commentaries on Aristotles
works. Following in the footsteps of his father and grandfather, he was Cordovas chief judge for
several years. Later on he became the personal physician to the ruler of Spain and Morocco. In
spite of his distinguished career, near the end of his life he was forced into exile on grounds of
heresy, and his books were burned. He was permitted to return two years later, but died the
following year.
One of his most influential works is A Decisive Treatise, which addresses the question:
what should we do when scripture conflicts with demonstrative truths of philosophy and science?
For example, scripture might hold that God created the world at a particular moment in time;
philosophy, on the other hand, might hold that the world has existed from eternity past and was
not created at any moment in time. Which view should we follow? His answer is that we should
accept the demonstrative truth established by philosophy and seek for a metaphorical
interpretation of scripture that will make the apparent conflict disappear. He writes,
If the [scriptural] Law speaks of it, either it will agree with that which has been proved by
inference, or else it will disagree with it. If it is in agreement it needs no comment, and if
it is opposed to the Law, an interpretation is to be sought. Interpretation means to carry
the meaning of a word from its original sense to a metaphorical one. But this should be
done in such a manner as will not conflict with the custom of the Arabian tongue. It is to
avoid the naming of an object, by simply mentioning its like, its cause, its attribute, or
associate, etc. which are commonly quoted in the definition of the different kinds of
metaphorical utterances. [Decisive Treatise]
According to Averroes, the problem arises since not all people have the same intellectual
capacity to understand scripture: some people can understand logic, while the vast majority
cannot. To address the wide range of readers, God crafted scriptures with two levels of meaning.
First, there is the common or exoteric meaning of scripture that relies on catchphrases,
buzzwords, stories and parables. Ordinary readers tend to understand these literally. Second,
there is the true meaning of scripture which is hidden or esoteric, and requires interpretation.
Between these two main levels of meaning there is a blurry middle ground:
There is a third part of the Law which occupies an intermediate position, on account of
some doubt about it. Some say that it should be taken exoterically, and that no
interpretation should be allowed in it; while there are others who say that they have some
of esoteric meaning, and should not be taken exoterically by the learned. This is on
account of the obscurity of their meaning. A learned man may be excused if he makes a
mistake about them. [Ibid]
Thus, with some scriptural passages its not clear whether they are only exoteric and must be
understood literally, or whether they are esoteric and need further interpretation.
According to Averroes, there are three groups of people who seek to understand scripture.
First there are the masses of people, who are guided only by catchphrases and buzzwords, and
thus take scripture literally. Second, there are dogmatic theologians who attempt some
interpretation, but dont have the skill to arrive at the true meaning. Finally, there are the
philosophers who, through their studies of logic, have the ability to draw the proper inferences.
In fact, their skill is so specialized that they should not even discuss their interpretations with the
masses or the dogmatic theologians:
This kind of interpretation should not be discussed with the dogmatic theologians, not to
speak of the common people. If any of these interpretations are disclosed to those not fit
to receive them--especially philosophical interpretations--these being far higher than
common knowledge, they may be led to infidelity. [Ibid]
Ultimately, it is the philosopher who has the logical ability to properly interpret scripture.
In short, Averroess maintains that apparent conflicts between philosophy and scripture
can be resolved by adopting metaphorical interpretations of scripture that skilled philosophers
are capable of drawing. While his position might be a little elitistand might give too much
credit to philosophers logical abilitiesit offers a consistent way of resolving potential conflicts
between philosophy and scripture. While Muslim followers of Averroes philosophy embraced
his solution to this problem, it also had a great influence on Christian philosophers of the time
called Latin Averroists, who modified it into a position called the doctrine of double truth.
According to this position, there are two levels of truth, one in philosophy and one in religion,
and what is true in philosophy could be false in religion, and vice versa. Again, suppose that
scripture states that God created the world at a particular moment in time, while philosophy
holds that it is eternal. The double truth doctrine maintains that each of these positions is true in
its own realm, even though they contradict each other. Averroes himself never went this far, and
suggests instead that there is really only one truth, which can be accessed differently by the
masses, dogmatic theologians and philosophers. The rather controversial doctrine of double truth
devised by the Latin Averroists was ultimately condemned by the Catholic Church in the 13th
century.
My primary object in this work is to explain certain words occurring in the prophetic
books. Of these some are homonyms, and of their several meanings the ignorant choose
the wrong ones; other terms which are employed in a figurative sense are erroneously
taken by such persons in their primary [literal] signification. There are also hybrid terms,
denoting things which are of the same class from one point of view and of a different
class from another. [Guide for the Perplexed, Introduction]
It is not here intended to explain all these expressions to the uneducated. . . . The object
of this treatise is to enlighten a religious man who has been trained to believe in the truth
of our holy Law, who conscientiously fulfils his moral and religious duties, and at the
same time has been successful in his philosophical studies. Human reason has attracted
him to abide within its sphere; and he finds it difficult to accept as correct the teaching
based on the literal interpretation of the Law, and especially that which he himself or
His book is thus titled A Guide for the Perplexed, and aims to help put an end to over-literalizing
scriptural interpretations, thus freeing the believer from anxiety.
To accomplish his task, Maimonides painstakingly analyzes scores of Hebrew words in
the Bible which, when taken in the wrong way, could mislead readers into interpreting the Bible
too literally. His very first example concerns the passage in the book of Genesis where, when
creating Adam, God says Let us make man in our image. The Hebrew word for image in this
verse is zelem, and an overly-literal understanding of the word has led many believers into
holding that God has a physical body, shaped like a human one with a face, hands and legs:
Some have held the opinion that by the Hebrew word zelem [i.e., image] means the shape
and figure of a thing, and this explanation has led some to believe in the corporeality of
God [i.e., that God has a physical body]. For they thought that the words Let us make
man in our zelem [i.e., image] implied that God had the form of a human being, that is,
that He had figure and shape, and that, consequently, He was corporeal. They adhered
faithfully to this view, and thought that if they were to reject it they would by doing so
reject the truth of the Bible. And further, if they did not conceive God as having a body
possessed of face and limbs, similar to their own in appearance, they would have to deny
even the existence of God. [Ibid 1.1]
The solution, for Maimonides, is to realize that the term there image (zelem) in this passage
doesnt mean physical form, but only the essence of a thing. There is in fact another Hebrew
word that does mean physical image the word toar but the passage from Genesis doesnt
use it, preferring instead zelem:
I hold that the Hebrew equivalent of [physical] form in the ordinary use of the word,
that is, the figure and shape of a thing, is toar. Thus we find [And Joseph was] beautiful
in toar [i.e., physical form], and beautiful in appearance (Gen. 39:6). . . This term is not
at all applicable to God. The term zelem, on the other hand, signifies the specific form,
that is, that which constitutes the essence of a thing, whereby the thing is what it is; the
reality of a thing in so far as it is that particular being. [Guide for the Perplexed, 1.1]
With other scriptural passages Maimonides takes a different approach when stripping
them of their overly-literal meanings. There are, for example, verses that describe God as
merciful or angry, both of which are human-like emotions. His solution here is to interpret
these statements as expressing qualities that we see in Gods creation of the natural world, but
not as psychological qualities of God himself. For example, the statement that God is merciful
really means that the natural world as created by God displays merciful characteristics. It gives
us nourishment and works in ways that make our lives pleasant. Similarly, the statement God is
angry really means that the natural world as created by God is severe towards people when they
act improperly.
F. AQUINAS
Perhaps the leading philosopher of the middle ages was Thomas Aquinas (12251274), who
maintained that reason, unaided by faith, can give us knowledge of Gods existence and an
understanding of morality as it is grounded in natural law. At his familys castle in Naples, Italy,
Thomas Aquinas was born to nobility on both sides, being a son of Count and a relative of a
dynasty of Holy Roman emperors. His education began at age five at a monastery where his
uncle was abbot, and expectations were high that Aquinas would one day fill that position. He
was later transferred to the University of Naples, where he became acquainted with the
Dominicans and, to his familys horror, resolved to join them. At 18, he set off for Rome, but was
seized by his brothers, returned to the family castle, and held captive while the family prayed,
threatened, and even tempted him with a prostitute, hoping to change his mind. They could not.
A year later the family yielded under pressure from the Pope, and Aquinas was sent to Cologne
to study under some of the great philosophers of the time.
While Aquinas was described as refined, affable and lovable, he was physically big,
solemn and slow to speak, earning him the nickname of the Dumb Ox. A story relates that
Aquinas's colleagues teased him saying that there was a flying cow outside, and when he looked
out the window they laughed. Aquinas responded that he would rather believe that a cow could
fly than that his brothers would deceive him. During his subsequent education, apprenticeship,
and public business in the church, he became famous for religious devotion and excellent
memory, having memorized much of the Bible. The church offered to make him an archbishop
and an abbot, but he refused both, preferring his studies. He composed book after book until he
had a mystical experience that compelled him to cease writing altogether. Traveling to attend a
Church Council, he became ill and died. Fifty years later he was canonized as a saint despite the
lack of traditional saintly manifestationsstigmata, miracles, mortificationswhich were
waived in lieu of his outstanding contribution to the Church. His philosophical writings
commentaries on Aristotle and his most important work, the multi-volume Summa Theologica
(Latin for theological synopsis).
Aquinas wrote in a formal and technical style that was common during this period of
medieval philosophy. From the time of Augustine, medieval philosophy had a mystical and
intuitional component to it. Weve seen this specifically with Augustines motto faith seeking
understanding and Pseudo-Dionysius view that through denying our notions of God we ascend
higher in our experience towards him. The larger message of this earlier period was one of
warning: reason is all well and good in its proper context, but it should not replace the more
religiously intimate element of faith. Around 1100, though, this gave way to a more rationalistic
approach that emerged within medieval universities called scholasticism, meaning the method of
the schools. The goal of scholasticism was to systematically bring philosophy into dialogue
with theology through a very specific methodology. Philosophical texts would no longer be
written as prayers to God or meditations, but rather in a much more scientific-like manner.
Precise questions would be posed, followed by a critical analysis of previous philosophers views
of the subject. Subtle distinctions would be made to help clarify problems. Through this critical
analysis, rationally-informed answers to the questions would emerge. Some medieval
philosophers, such as Anselm, were transitional figures with their feet in both genres. Aquinass
writings, though, fully embody the scholastic approach.
The truths that we confess concerning God fall into two categories. Some things that are
true of God are beyond all the competence of human reason, such as that God is three and
one. There are other things to which even human reason can attain, such as the existence
and unity of God, which philosophers have proved to a demonstration under the guidance
of the light of natural reason. [Summa Contra Gentiles, 1.3]
The first class of truths that are accessible through reason alone he calls presuppositions of faith,
which include the truths that God exists and God is one. The second class of truths, called
mysteries of faith, are accessible only through faith and involve doctrines like the Trinity, which
we learn about in scripture and are central to the Christian faith in particular. Human reason
alone cannot access these truths, he argues, since, in our present life knowledge and
understanding begins with the senses (ibid). While this prevents us from knowing Gods inner
nature, our senses can still give us information about creation which allows us to infer that there
is a powerful and designing creator to all that we see.
Again, one of the things that we can know through reason alone is that God exists, and to
that end Aquinas offers five ways of proving God. Briefly, they are these:
1. There must be a first mover of things that are in the process of change and motion.
2. There must be a first efficient cause of the events that we see around us.
3. There must be a necessary being to explain the contingent beings in the world around
us.
4. There must be an ultimately good thing to explain the good that we see in lesser things.
5. There must be an intelligent being who guides natural objects to their ends or purposes.
The first three of his proofs share a similar strategy, which was inspired by Aristotles notion of
the unmoved mover: there is a first cause of all the motion that takes place throughout the
cosmos. In more recent times this argument strategy has been dubbed the cosmological
argument. Well look specifically at Aquinass second argument from efficient cause as he
presents it here:
The second way is from the nature of the efficient cause. In the world of sense we find
there is an order of efficient causes. There is no case known (neither is it, indeed,
possible) in which a thing is found to be the efficient cause of itself; for so it would be
prior to itself, which is impossible. Now in efficient causes it is not possible to go on to
infinity, because in all efficient causes following in order, the first is the cause of the
intermediate cause, and the intermediate is the cause of the ultimate cause, whether the
intermediate cause be several, or only one. Now to take away the cause is to take away
the effect. Therefore, if there be no first cause among efficient causes, there will be no
ultimate, nor any intermediate cause. But if in efficient causes it is possible to go on to
infinity, there will be no first efficient cause, neither will there be an ultimate effect, nor
any intermediate efficient causes; all of which is plainly false. Therefore it is necessary to
admit a first efficient cause, to which everyone gives the name of God. [ST 1, Q. 2, Art.
3]
According to Aquinas, we experience various kinds of effects in the world around us, and in
every case we assign an efficient cause to each effect. The efficient cause of the statue is the
work of the sculptor. If we took away the activity of the sculptor, we would not have the effect,
namely, the statue. But there is an order of efficient causes: the hammer strikes the chisel which
in turn strikes the marble. But it is impossible to have an infinitely long sequence of efficient
causes, and so we arrive at a first efficient cause.
Aquinas did not give us an example of the sort of simultaneous causes in the natural
world that traces immediately back to God, but here is a likely instance of what he is talking
about. Consider the motion of the winds. At the very moment that the winds are moving, there
are larger physical forces at work that create this motion. In medieval science, the motion of the
moon is responsible for the motion of the winds. But the moon itself moves because it too is
being simultaneously moved by other celestial motions, such as the planets, the sun, and the
stars. According to Aquinas, simultaneous causal sequences of motion cannot go on forever, and
we must eventually find a first cause of this motion, which everyone understands to be God.
So much for Aquinass second way to prove Gods existence. As noted, the first and third
ways follow similar strategies, insofar as they claim that causal sequences of change and
contingency cannot go on forever. The fourth way is like Anselms argument from absolute
goodness: there must be an absolute standard of goodness which is the cause of the good that we
see in lesser things. His fifth way, though, is unique and is a version of what in later times is
called the design argument. He writes,
The fifth way is taken from the governance of the world. We see that things which lack
intelligence, such as natural bodies, act for an end, and this is evident from their acting
always, or nearly always, in the same way, so as to obtain the best result. Hence it is plain
that not fortuitously, but designedly, do they achieve their end. Now whatever lacks
intelligence cannot move towards an end, unless it be directed by some being endowed
with knowledge and intelligence; as the arrow is shot to its mark by the archer. Therefore
some intelligent being exists by whom all natural things are directed to their end; and this
being we call God. [ST 1, Q. 2, Art. 3]
1. Objects without intelligence act towards some end (for example, a tree grows and
reproduces its own kind).
2. Moving towards an end exhibits a natural design that requires intelligence.
3. If a thing is unintelligent, yet acts for some end, then it must be guided to this end by
something which is intelligent.
4. Therefore, an intelligent being exists that moves natural things toward their ends,
which is God.
The central notion behind this argument is that natural objects such as plants and animals have
built-in purposes. Here Aquinas draws directly on Aristotles concept of a natural object which
has an innate impulse towards change in specific ways. According to Aquinas, when natural
objects move towards their end, this reveals a natural design that could not have come about
through chance, but requires intelligence. Since plants and animals lack intelligence to do this,
some other intelligence is responsible for this, namely God.
There is neither composition of quantitative parts in God, since He is not a body; nor
composition of matter and form; nor does His nature differ from His person; nor His
essence from His existence; neither is there in Him composition of genus and difference,
nor of subject and accident. Therefore, it is clear that God is nowise composite, but is
altogether simple. [ST 1, Q 3, Art. 7]
According to Aquinas, God has no parts whatsoever, no physical parts, and, more importantly, no
conceptual parts, such as specific properties or predicates. His basic proof for Gods simplicity is
this:
While God in is true nature is simple, Aquinas concedes that to finite human minds he appears to
have distinct parts. The reason for this seems to be that our minds are designed to understand
things in the world around us, virtually all of which have parts--parts of trees, parts of chairs,
parts of languages. When we then attempt to understand God in his simplicity, we then very
naturally view him as a thing that is composed of parts, and attempt to understand him one
element at a time. He writes,
We can speak of simple things only as though they were like the composite things from
which we derive our knowledge. Therefore in speaking of God, we use concrete nouns to
signify His subsistence, because with us only those things subsist which are composite;
and we use abstract nouns to signify His simplicity. In saying therefore that Godhead, or
life, or the like are in God, we indicate the composite way in which our intellect
understands, but not that there is any composition in God. [ST 1, Q 3, Art. 3]
To satisfy our tendency to view God as a composite thing, we can deduce some sub-attributes of
God from his main attribute of simplicity. For example, we can say that God is eternal since if a
thing is simple, then it has no before or after and thus is eternal. Similarly, we can say that
God is perfect since if a thing is simple then it is completely actualized, with no remaining
potentiality, and complete actualization is perfection.
The whole issue of Gods attributes raises an even more fundamental question of the
adequacy of religious language: can any of our descriptions of God satisfactorily represent him?
For example, if we say that God loves us, what sort of love are we talking about, and is the
notion of divine love something that can even be put into words? Weve already seen a variety of
answers to this question of religious language: Pseudo-Dionysius said we can only describe God
negatively; Maimonides said that we can only describe God allegorically. Aquinas approaches
the issue by noting three ways that our words might, at least in theory, apply to God. The first is
univocal: the religious and non-religious uses of a word like love are completely the same,
whether were talking about human love or divine love. Aquinas rejects this approach:
Univocal predication is impossible between God and creatures [The] term wise is not
applied in the same way to God and to man. The same rule applies to other terms. Hence
no name is predicated univocally of God and of creatures. [ST 1, Q. 13, Art. 5]
The problem with the univocal approach is that the gulf between Gods nature and human nature
is so vast that the term love cannot possibly mean the exact same thing when were talking
about divine love vs. human love. The next way is equivocal: the religious and non-religious
uses of a word like love are completely different. Aquinas rejects this approach as well:
Neither, on the other hand, are names applied to God and creatures in a purely equivocal
sense, as some have said. Because if that were so, it follows that from creatures nothing
could be known or demonstrated about God at all. [Ibid]
The problem here is that if religious language and human language have nothing in common,
then we can say nothing at all about God. Rejecting both the univocal and equivocal approach,
Aquinas recommends a middle ground between the two: an analogical approach whereby the
religious use of a word bears some analogy to the non-religious use. For example, we can say
that divine love is to God just as parental love is to a parent. He writes,
In analogies the idea is not, as it is in univocals, one and the same, yet it is not totally
diverse as in equivocals. Rather a term which is thus used in a multiple sense signifies
various proportions to some one thing. Thus healthy applied to urine signifies the sign
of animal health, and applied to medicine signifies the cause of the same health. [Ibid]
The point is that there is something in common to both religious language and human language,
but it can only be understood as a comparison of two relations. For example, to grasp the notion
of divine love, we must first examine the relation between human parents and parental love: we
have a special attachment to our offspring that overrides every other human interest. In some
parallel way, this is what Gods love towards humans involves.
What, specifically, are the principles of natural law that God has embedded into human
nature? First, there is one highest principle: Good is to be done and evil is to be avoided.
Aquinas writes,
This is the first precept of law, that good is to be done and pursued, and evil is to be
avoided. All other precepts of the natural law are based upon this: so that whatever the
practical reason naturally apprehends as mans good (or evil) belongs to the precepts of
the natural law as something to be done or avoided. [ST la-2ae, Q. 94, Art. 2]
From this, we determine what is good for us by looking at our human inclinations; he notes six
in particular that are connected with our human good: self-preservation, heterosexual activity,
educating our offspring, rationality, gaining knowledge of God, and living in society. He writes,
Because in man there is first of all an inclination to good in accordance with the nature
which he has in common with all substances: inasmuch as every substance seeks the
preservation of its own being, according to its nature: and by reason of this inclination,
whatever is a means of preserving human life, and of warding off its obstacles, belongs to
the natural law. Secondly, there is in man an inclination to things that pertain to him more
specially, according to that nature which he has in common with other animals: and in
virtue of this inclination, those things are said to belong to the natural law, which nature
has taught to all animals, such as sexual intercourse, education of offspring and so forth.
Thirdly, there is in man an inclination to good, according to the nature of his reason,
which nature is proper to him: thus man has a natural inclination to know the truth about
God, and to live in society: and in this respect, whatever pertains to this inclination
belongs to the natural law; for instance, to shun ignorance, to avoid harming or offending
those among whom one has to live, and other such things regarding the above inclination.
[Ibid]
For Aquinas, these six inclinations comprise what is most proper for humans, and provide the
basis for the primary precepts of morality. This gives us six primary principles of natural law: (1)
preserve human life, (2) have heterosexual intercourse, (3) educate your children, (4) shun
ignorance, (5) worship God, and (6) avoid harming others.
Each of these primary principles encompasses more specific or secondary principles. For
example, the primary principle avoid harming others implies the secondary principles dont
steal and dont assault. These, in turn, imply even more specific or tertiary principles, such as
dont write bad checks. As the principles become more specific, they leave the domain of
natural law and enter that of human law. When considering whether natural law is the same in all
people, he argues that the primary principles are common to everyone, such as do not harm
others. However, more particular tertiary derivations of human law are not necessarily common
to all societies. Still, he argues, human law will carry the force of natural law if the tertiary
principles are derived correctly. But, if in any point it deflects from the law of nature, it is no
longer a law but a perversion of law (ibid, 95).
When one of those [elements of knowledge] that come together is incompatible with
certainty, then certainty cannot be achieved. For just as from one premise that is
necessary and one that is contingent nothing follows but a contingent conclusion, so from
something certain and something uncertain, coming together in some cognition, no
cognition that is certain follows. [Ordinatio 1.3.1.4 n.221]
According to the above analogy, an argument is only as strong as its weakest premise: if you
have five premises that are certain, yet only one that is uncertain, the entire argument becomes
uncertain. For Scotus, the types of certainty that we can attain in our current human condition,
without the help of divine illumination, are certainty about logical inference, causal inference,
acts we perform, present sense experience.
A second area of importance in Scotuss philosophy is his view regarding matter and
form. Recall the debate between Plato and Aristotle on the relation between matter and form.
Plato held that form can exist independently of material things, such as the forms of justice,
1+1=2, and chairness, all of which exist in the non-physical realm of the forms. Aristotle, on the
other hand, held that form cannot exist separately from matter, but, instead, forms must be
imbedded into material things, such as the form and shape that an existing wooden chair has.
Most medieval philosophers followed Aristotles view, which is called hylomorphism (Greek for
material form). Scotus for the most part accepts Aristotles view: the things that we see around
us are a mixture of matter and form. However, Scotus makes two important concessions to
Platonism. First, he argues that some matter exists without forma formless substance called
prime matter. Second, he argues that pure forms can exist that contain no matteran
immaterial form called substantial form. Spirits, he argued, are just such substantial forms.
The third of Scotuss major contributions to philosophy is his view that God creates
moralitya position now called divine command theory. The larger question here is what is the
ultimate source of morality? Plato and his followers argued that moral standards like justice,
charity, and goodness are eternal and unchanging principles that exist in a non-physical realm.
They were not created by God, and, on the contrary, they are so permanently fixed in the cosmic
nature of things that God himself cannot even alter them. In this way, moral standards are much
like mathematical principles, which are also eternal and unchanging. Scotus denies that moral
standards are like this. He writes, The divine will is the cause of good, and so a thing is good
precisely in virtue of the fact that he wills it (Additiones Magnae 1.48). Similarly he states
Everything other than God is good because it is willed by God, and not vice versa (Ordinatio,
3.19).
While this might at first seem to be a good position for a religious believer to hold, it has
an unpleasant side effect, which Scotus himself recognized: God can create any moral values he
wants, and he can change them any time he wants. In fact, he maintains, the Bible itself contains
a record of God revoking previously established moral principles for special purposes.
Specifically, he commanded Abraham to kill his son as a sacrifice; he commanded the Israelites
to steal household goods from their Egyptian neighbors; he commanded the prophet Hosea to
have children with a prostitute. As unsettling as this might be, according to Scotus we must
simply recognize that God has this kind of authority over the creation and suspension of moral
principles. Scotus adds, though, that some moral standards even God cannot change, specifically
the first few of the Ten Commandments which tell us to avoid making idols and using Gods
name in vain. The reason that these are unchangeable, according to Scotus, is that part of Gods
nature is that he should be loved: It follows necessarily that if he is God, he should be loved as
God, and that nothing else is to be honored as God, nor is irreverence to be committed toward
God (Oxford Commentary, 3:37).
In order to demonstrate the statement of faith that we formulate about God, what we
would need for the central concept is a simple cognition of the divine nature in itself
what someone who sees God has. Nevertheless, we cannot have this kind of cognition in
our present state. [Quodlibetal Questions, pp. 103-4]
Further, he argued, proofs for Gods existence fail, and the notion of the Christian trinity is
logically contradictory.
Ockham is most famous for his principle of simplicity, popularly called Ockhams
Razor, which states that entities should not be multiplied needlessly and that the simplest of two
competing theories is to be preferred. Suppose, for example, that I see leaves moving around
outside. One explanation for this is that invisible demons are grabbing hold of them and stirring
them around. An alternative explanation is that the wind is blowing them. According to
Ockhams Razor, I should reject the first theory since it unnecessarily postulates the existence of
a supernatural entity (invisible demons) when I can explain the phenomenon perfectly well with
ordinary natural events (the wind). Philosophers prior to Ockham routinely used this notion in
the course of proving one thing or another. Ockham, though, relied on it regularly, thus making it
something like a trademark for him.
One important application of his Razor is with the medieval problem of universals. Recall
what the three options are for universals as developed by Boethius. First, theres Platos view that
universals exist in the realm of the forms, separate from physical bodies. Second, there is
Aristotles view that universals are built into physical things. Third, there is the view that
universals are merely mental abstractions that do not exist in the external world. Applying
Ockhams Razor to this issue, we need only ask which of these three views is the simplest and
multiplies the fewest number of entities? Platos view clearly has lots of excess baggage; indeed,
Plato postulates an entire nonphysical realm of the Forms to house universals. Aristotles theory
also has excess baggage. In addition to saying the ball is red we must also say that the
universal redness is embedded in the ball. The simplest theory, then, is the third which holds
that universals exist only as concepts in our minds. Ockham writes,
Nothing should be posited as naturally necessarily required for some effect unless certain
experience or a certain argument from what is self-evident leads to that; but neither of
these leads to the positing of a universal species. [Commentary on the Sentences, Bk. 2,
Q. 15]
This third view of universals, which Ockham endorses, is sometimes called conceptualism,
emphasizing the role of mental concepts, but more often it is called nominalism (or name-ism)
emphasizing the human tendency to name abstract mental concepts such as redness.
Ockham offered several arguments in defense of nominalism, with simplicity being just
one. Briefly, here are two others. First is the argument from individual existence. According to
Ockham, everything that exist should be logically independent from everything else. Platos and
Aristotles views of universals undermine this since it connects objects together through
universals. Second is the argument from Gods sovereignty: universals limits Gods power. God
should be able to create or destroy things as he chooses. Suppose that universals existed outside
the mind as Plato or Aristotle suggested, and that the universal of redness, for example, was
connected with all particular red things. If God then chose to destroy a red ball, he would thus
also destroy the universal redness and every other red thing thats connected with it. Ockham
writes,
God would not be able to annihilate one individual substance without destroying the
other individuals of the same kind [since] he would destroy the universal that is in it
and in others of the same essence. [Summa Totius Logica, 1:15:5]
A final influential component of Ockhams philosophy is his extreme view of the divine
command theory. Earlier we discussed Scotuss view of Gods ability to create moral standards,
particularly ones involving murder, theft and sexual morality. God can mandate or suspend these
as he sees fit. But Scotus adds that other moral standards, such as duties to love God, are fixed
within the nature of God himself and cannot be changed. Ockham, however, takes the more
radical position that God can create and alter both types of moral principles if thats what he
chose. Specifically, God could command us to hate him and, thus, that would be the morally
right thing to do. He writes,
Every will can conform to the commands of God. God can, however, command a created
will to hate Him. Therefore, the created will can do this. Moreover, any act that can be
just on earth could also be just in heaven. On earth the hatred of God can be just, if it is
commanded by God himself. Therefore, the hatred of God could also be just in heaven.
[Fourth Book of the Sentences, 13]
H. CONCLUSION
Considering that Medieval philosophy covers a period of 1,000 yearstwo-fifths of the entire
span of the history of philosophyit may seem a little odd to devote only one chapter to it as
weve done here. It is now common practice, though, to deemphasize the Medieval thinkers in
deference to those of other historical periods. It is not because of a lack of philosophical writings
during this period, since far more Medieval philosophy books survive than do those by ancient
Greek writers. The reason is that the entire program of Medieval philosophy rests on a key
assumption: readers must be compelled by the specific notion of God thats advocated by the
Jewish, Christian, and Muslim religious traditions. Most of the issues that Medieval philosophers
wrestled with focus directly on Godhis existence, nature, creative activity, and how he
fashioned human nature. While at least some of these issues may be interesting in their own
right, Medieval philosophy still mainly addresses an audience of monotheists. Medieval Europe
consisted almost exclusively of such believers. But as the world opened during the Renaissance
and the centuries following, the audience of philosophically-minded readers greatly expanded.
Polytheists, pantheists, and atheists from all corners of the globe have a harder time engaging in
that dialogue.
Nevertheless, even today there remains a large group of philosophically-minded
monotheists who connect with the religious assumptions of the Medievals, and continue to look
to their writings for inspiration. In that context, the contributions of Medieval philosophers are
no less profound and innovative than those of the ancient Greeks. As religious philosophers
today continue to explore such issues, they invariably begin with the basic arguments of the
Medievals and follow their philosophical methodology. Scholasticism in particular continues to
this day through the efforts of Christian philosophers who follow in the tradition set by Aquinas.
Within that environment, the program of Medieval philosophy is alive and well.
1. Give one of Augustines solutions to the problem of evil, and formulate a criticism of it.
2. Pseudo-Dionysius, Averroes, Maimonides, and Aquinas each talk about the problem of
religious knowledge. Do they differ from each other, or are they all saying essentially the same
thing? Explain.
3. As explained by Boethius, the three main theories of universals are those of Plato, Aristotle,
and conceptualism/nominalism. Which if any of these seem right to you? Explain.
4. Defend or refute one of the arguments for God presented by Anselm or Aquinas.
5. Give Scotuss criticism of divine illumination, and say how Augustine might respond to it.
6. Explain divine command theory, and give a criticism of it.