A Babel of Pure Speech: When Nominalism Changed Theology (The Historical Heart of My Thesis, Part Two)
What is
additionally important to emphasize about these shifts is that when this
ability to consider nature “in itself” combined with the idea that God is like
(or purely unlike) a human agent writ large, for many—and this despite the fact
that consideration of the world “in itself” was often part and parcel of an
emerging Franciscan piety—causality
became merely extrinsic and a sort of zero-sum game:
Since, for univocity,
finite being fully ‘is’ in its finitude, outside of participation, it becomes
possible to think of infinite and finite causes each contributing distinct if
unequal shares to any particular causal upshot, with a paradigm of flattened
quantitative uniformity rather than levels of qualitative differentiation. Thus the metaphor of two horses pulling one
barge, explicitly refused by Aquinas [Contra
Errores Graecorum, 23] was now embraced [Scotus, Quodlibetal Questiones, q.5] to describe the co-operation of God
and creatures in bringing about finite created results, including that of human
redemption.[1]
Though
undoubtedly this is against Scotus’ good intentions, it is hard to avoid the
conclusion with all this that he begins to “spatialize” God’s transcendence as
a sort of “far-away-ness” in a manner alien to Augustine (to whom Scotus still
attempts to defer) and Aquinas (with whom Scotus has many disagreements). Yet the paradoxically related trend is that
precisely because Scotus attempts to obtain clear, univocal reference to assure
our God-talk (as we just saw with the “strong use” of the psychological
analogy, for example) simultaneous to this “spatialized” distance, our terms
are rendered transparent in their reference to God in a way previously
unimaginable. God became both “distant,
yet without mystery,” to quote de Lubac’s memorable phrase.[2]
Nominalism[3]
radicalized many of the trajectories we have just spoken of in Scotus, in
particular however we want to continue to focus on the theme of how
participation in God broke down, and God’s transcendence became “exteriorized”
as contrastive with immanence. After the
1277 condemnation of Aristotelianism by the bishop of Paris, Etienne Tempier,
and the Archbishop of Canterbury Robert Kilwardby, omnipotence became the
leading attribute emphasized of God (Aquinas, it should not go without note,
was seen to bear the brunt of some of these charges). Omnipotence thus served as a sort of
“anti-Aristotelian” instrument, noting God is not limited in what he creates by
the strictures of “form” or enteleceia, but
rather He is radically unconstrained.
Voluntarism and nominalism thus go hand in conceptual hand: to affirm
God’s omnipotence in the voluntaristic sense was to lay stress on the
absoluteness of God’s will, thus denying the existence of rational universals
(often termed “realism”) that would dictate the parameters of God’s activity. There are no more forests, only individual
trees; no deserts, just sand. Thus created
things were seen as utterly and immediately dependent in their individuality
upon God’s will, rather than relating to God via universal forms of rationality.
Universal categories were now only considered “names” produced in the mind by
abstraction for the sake of heuristic convenience. William of Ockham, born in England somewhere
between 1280 and 1285, is the most commonly cited advocate for these views,
though it is debated whether it is truly proper to call him a nominalist. Louis Dupré offers a similar judgment of
Ockham that was just given of Scotist univocity:
With Ockham (c.a.
1290-1349/50), the entire ontotheological synthesis [of unity of man, world,
word, and God] began to disintegrate. … Ockham no longer takes such a built-in
harmony between mind and nature for granted, which [he believes] subjects God’s
ways of creation to human norms. Even
the assumption that the mind shares a universal form with the real, however
deeply entrenched in the tradition, is abandoned. … Obviously [with this
nominalist shift] the trust in the essentially rational quality of nature that
had supported traditional epistemology, has collapsed. Henceforth ideality belongs exclusively to the [human] mind. By the same token, the transcendental factor
[of God] ceases to function as an active constituent of the ontotheological
synthesis. For it had been precisely
through the form [of appearance/existence of finite entities] that the finite had
participated in the Infinite. … In late nominalist theology, the [forms of the
world] lost this function, and the link
with the divine became an external one [Emphasis added].[4]
A bit
later in his analysis Dupré summarizes boldly that “without a radical
rethinking of the theory of signification by the nominalists, doubt concerning
the possibility of knowing reality as it is in itself might never have arisen [emphasis added].”[5] This is perhaps too strong a claim, yet it
nonetheless underscores some of the changes that occurred in nominalism and
univocal predication. Denys Turner
cautions, “this intellectual shift [with Scotus] is not said to have been
uniquely causal of subsequent developments in Western intellectual history, but
only in the long run to have removed a conceptual barrier, set firmly in place
by Thomas’ doctrine of analogy, standing in the way of development of a
rationalist and secularist ideology.”[6]
But just so,
Alasdair MacIntyre writes, for example: “For Aristotle an adequate
characterization of the mind is the mind as achieving knowledge; for Augustine
it is the mind as by itself incapable of knowledge but for some external source
supplying what the mind cannot itself supply.
Withdraw divine illumination from
the Augustinian scheme [via nominalism]
and you have the mind in the predicament to be characterized by that late,
solipsized Augustinian, Descartes…”[7] The world became a chaotic
ocean of pointilated individualities whose mechanical operations could be
understood in an a posteriori manner,
but whose natures no longer spoke of either God’s purpose or order—merely the
inscrutable tide of an absolute Will.
Michael Allen Gillespie writes regarding the anxiety nominalism caused:
“Modernity came into being as the result of a series of attempts to find a way
out of the crises engendered by the nominalist revolution,”[8]
because
Nominalism sought to
tear the rationalistic veil from the face of God in order to found a true
Christianity, but in doing so it revealed a capricious God, fearsome in his
power, unknowable, unpredictable, unconstrained by nature and reason, and
indifferent to good and evil. This
vision of God turned the order of nature into a chaos of individual beings and
the order of logic into a mere concatenation of names. Man himself was dethroned from his exalted
place in the natural order of things and cast adrift in an infinite universe
with no natural law to guide him and no certain path to salvation. It is thus not surprising that for all but
the most extreme ascetics and mystics, this dark God of nominalism proved to be
a profound source of anxiety and insecurity.[9]
Thus
the double-bind of Ockham’s God: on the one hand He is dark, inscrutable,
distant—not just from us but from the form of Christ himself—God could have
become an ass or a stone, says Ockham, with the same result as becoming the
Nazarene; on the other hand, as we saw with his Trinitarian theology, the
Trinity itself has been rendered essentially unintelligible, a series of psychological
propositions that now must be received in the form of curiously aloof (and
maddeningly esoteric) assertions, since the psychological analogy’s link to
scripture and salvation history in Augustine and Aquinas has been obscured, or
better: rendered into fideistic affirmation rather than biblical argument within
an anti-Arian (homoian) and anti-Sabellian polemical context. And all of this in terms that (legitimately
or otherwise) attempt to assert that they maintain an Augustinian pedigree.
A
Forgetfulness, Which Appears As Memory
What is
important to keep in mind regarding this complex and often ambiguous shift from
ontology to epistemology is that many of the traditional terms for
God—simplicity, omnipresence, omnipotence, goodness, First Cause—could remain
the same, but their content and manner of employment radically rewrote their
logic from the inside, despite still aping the prior surface syntax.[10] It can then occur that precisely in the act
of “remembering” the tradition and its terms, this memory, when inattentive to
some of these shifts, is actually a forgetfulness. To be sure, Christianity has perennially been
beset both by its share of rationalisms and fideisms, and by those who view it
necessary to find a space apart from God for created freedom. What is unique to this emerging modern
situation is that these positions become less the exception and more and more
the rule—a rule of discourse, moreover, that is increasingly read back into the
traditional sources it falsely believes itself to be commenting upon,
perpetuating, or countering. That this is so is the burden of Kathryn Tanner’s
brilliant work, God and Creation in
Christian Theology.
She
writes regarding the modern perplexity to Christianity’s claims of God’s power with
the simultaneous assertion of human accountability and freedom. These claims, she notes, “to the modern mind
seem recondite and unfamiliar, disquieting in their attempt to bring together
obvious incompatibles.”[11] Yet the specific acuity of this perplexity is
not a perennial problem but “arise[s] historically … with a certain body of
interrelated presumptions that form the framework for modern discussion of the
topic … problems of intelligibility arrive on the scene as an earlier tradition
of Christian discourse in Christian theology is subtly but quite significantly
transformed: a modern interpretive frame skews the sense of traditional
Christian claims about God and the world.”[12] Thus she argues in a chapter ominously entitled
“The Modern Breakdown of Theological Discourse,” that the tradition’s various
ways of remaining faithful in speaking of the “non-competitive transcendence”
of God with the freedom of creatures, breaks down precisely in “the modern
theologian’s own attempt to take up the tradition of Christian discourse and
continue it in a form appropriate for a contemporary audience.” Such discourse, “is skewed by improper
inferences that a modern cultural context promotes.”[13] What are some of these modern cultural
contexts? Note the similarity of her
general prognosis with the claims stemming from Scotus and Ockham above, which
it behooves us to quote at length:
For the modern
interpreter, what one gets when one strips away [theological] contexts is not
an abstraction, the world viewed apart from its real relations with divinity
and a community of human knowers. One is
left with the world as it is in its own integrity as an already constituted
fact[14]
… Modern methods of inquiry ‘work over’ concrete phenomena. A blueprint or framework of assumptions
determines in advance what sort of thing may count as suitable data …the origin of this framework as a kind of
selective emphasis for particular purposes tends to be occulted … a modern framework
of assumptions is [then] not considered historically conditioned … what is
important for purposes of calculation becomes the ‘really real’, to which are
optionally and externally appended [theological qualities] which are not
similarly serviceable. The philosophical
conundrums of modern times (skepticism, mind/body dualism, the fact/value
split, the … problem of free will) are [the] result from the tendency of modern
methods of inquiry to hypostasize severally, as real and essentially
independent ‘things’ those logical aspects of concrete phenomena [the tradition
saw as pieces of a continuum of discourse within theology proper] … different
aspects of the same concrete phenomena become disparate sorts of thing,
exclusive of one another and therefore, difficult to hold together. A ‘Humpty-Dumpty’ syndrome befalls modern
discourse: once the egg breaks, the king’s men cannot quite get everything back
together again. Intractable problems
arise concerning the possibility of interrelating [what are now seen as] fundamentally independent and
antithetical spheres of being.[15]…
Modern methods [then] are liable to undercut the entire structure of
theological discourse [of the tradition], so that traditional claims about
God’s sovereignty and creature’s powers becomes incoherent, and [what once were
necessary and complimentary theological positions] become mutually exclusive
alternatives[16]…
God’s transcendence [now] tends to be defined negatively viz-a-viz an already
given factuality [of the world]. This
violates our rule for talk of God’s transcendence and thereby suggests the
incompatibility of that transcendence with God’s immediate involvement with the
world. God is [in the modern view]
simply not what the world is; too close a connection with it would seem to
threaten a transcendence of that sort…God is imprisoned [in modernity] by a
transcendence negatively defined: God is either isolated over against a
basically self-sufficient nexus of created causes and effects, or may operate
in the way a finite being would within a single causal order shared with others
… The otherness of God in power and purpose [now] suggests distance. God would not seem in the main, therefore to
be present or influential [or if he was, it would be precisely by dislodging
claims to human freedom or violating natural causality]. The world is de-sacralized, disenchanted, men
and women are abandoned by God, left to the devices of their own making.[17]
The
length of this citation can hopefully be forgiven if we keep an eye on the
interesting nature of its claims. In
sum: in modern discourse God, world, and man, are all separated and seen as
pieces of a puzzle for theologians, philosophers, and (later on) natural
scientists to put back together, with part of that process now to be seen as
giving precedent to one or another “piece” as it interacts with the others. An obverse implication of this is that the
“pieces” (God, world, humanity) can now be constituted and theorized in
discrete units that then must be
conceptually related. This in some sense
allows the possibility for purely “secularized” accounts of the world and
humanity to secretly control theistic discourse, since they are (supposedly)
the most self-evident.[18]
In turn, this affects the perception of
“classical” theistic discourse, retrojecting these modern fragmentations as
latent within, say, Augustine, or Aquinas: if they said God is immutable, we
now read this as God being stoic and distant to the world; if they said God is
simple as opposed to worldly complexity, we read this to mean God is somehow an
empty and abstract “something, we know not what” to quote Locke’s view of
substance, etc. … More importantly all of these claims are being made in
circumvention of Christology, via a philosophical God-construct, rather than
complex dialectical commentary on scripture. In the words of Tanner: “We can
conclude, then, that those who dispute the coherence of the traditional claims
are similarly misconstruing them.”[19] This analysis is already quite parallel to
the several accounts given above of Scotus, Ockham, and the transition from
“Divine Names” to “Divine Attributes,” (in part this is no surprise, as Tanner
includes Scotus, Ockham, and the post-nominalist legacy in general in her
historical narrative). But look also how
Tanner’s prognosis parallels one given by Michael Allen Gillespie, who, as we
saw already, has recently taken up the task in his book The Theological Origins of Modernity to narrate Modernity not as “secular”
(understood as “not religious”) but as the various theological negotiations responding to the “dark God” of Ockham’s
voluntarism:
The nominalist
revolution was an ontological revolution that called being itself into question
… It …gave rise to a new ontology, a new logic, and a new conception of man,
God, and nature. All succeeding European
thought has been shaped by this transformation.
While nominalism undermined scholasticism, it was unable to provide
broadly acceptable alternative to the comprehensive view of the world it had
destroyed. Some retreat from radical
nominalism was thus probably inevitable.
On the basic ontological point, there was no turning back—all, or almost
all succeeding forms of thought accepted the ontological individualism that
nominalism had so forcefully asserted. With respect to the other elements of
metaphysics, however, there was considerable variation, although these
variations themselves were constrained by the structure of metaphysics itself
[emphasis added]. In fact … succeeding
thinkers focused not on the fundamental ontological question [of the difference
of God from creatures] but on the ontic question of the priority or primacy of
particular realms of being within metaphysica
specialis. The deepest disagreements
in the period between the fourteenth and the seventeenth centuries were thus
not ontological, but ontic, disagreements not about the nature of being but
about which of the three realms of being—the human, the divine, or the
natural—had priority. To put it simply,
post-scholastic thinkers disagreed not about being itself, but about the
hierarchy among the realms of being … Modernity, as we more narrowly understand
it, was the consequence of the attempt to resolve this conflict by asserting
the ontic priority not of man or God but of nature.[20]
[1] Milbank, Beyond Secular Order, 46.
[2] For the full quote, cf.
De Lubac, The Discovery of God,
177-178: “The God of ‘classical ontology’ is dead you say? It may be so; but it does not worry me
overmuch. I have no inclination to
defend the petrified constructions of Wolf… The god of several modern theodicies
which weigh and measure him rather than defend him, the God who can hardly say
“I AM” any longer, the God who tends to be no more than the ‘universal harmony
of things’ who rules over a beyond where ‘everything is the same as here,’ the
God imprisoned ‘within the limits of reason,’ who no longer intervenes in the
world, who is really nothing but the projection of natural man, who is distant yet without mystery,
[emphasis added] a God made to our measure and defined according to our rules .
. . a God in fact whose thoughts are our thoughts and whose ways are our ways:
such a God has proved very useless in practice and has become the object of a
justified ressentiment. And when man at last decided to get rid of
him altogether in order to enter into his own inheritance, he was only a shade,
reduced to the narrow limits of human thought.”
[3] For a brief
introduction cf. Gillespie, Theological
Origins of Modernity, 19-44.
[4] Dupré, Passage to Modernity, 39-40.
[5] Ibid., 80.
[6] Denys Turner, Faith, Reason, and the Existence of God
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004), 126.
[7] MacIntyre, Three Rival Versions of Moral Inquiry, 110.
[8] Gillespie, Theological Origins of Modernity,
15. This is the thesis that drives
Gillespie’s book as a whole.
[9] Ibid., 29.
[10] Though we cannot go
into it here, a fantastic and lengthy case study in the transformations of
omnipresence, omnipotence, and providence from scholasticism through Ockham to
the seventeenth century can be found in Funkenstein, Theology and the Scientific Imagination, 23-279.
[11] Tanner, God and Creation in Christian Theology,
6.
[12] Ibid., 4.
[13] Ibid., 122.
[14] Ibid., 125.
[15] Ibid., 128-130.
[16] Ibid., 152.
[17] Ibid., 158-159.
[18] Cf. Charles Taylor’s
discussion of what he terms “Closed World Structures”: the shift to a modern,
foundationalist epistemology operates as a “Closed World Structure,” because it
skews our world-picture in terms of immanence precisely in how it structures
knowledge of God: “This [foundationalist epistemology] can operate as a CWS
because it is obvious that the inference to the transcendent is now at the
extreme and most fragile end of a chain of inferences; [in this way] it becomes
the most epistemically questionable.” (A
Secular Age, 558).
[19] Tanner, God and Creation., 163.
[20] Gillespie, Theological Origins of Modernity, 16-17.


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