How Neo-Thomism Affected 20th Century Trinitarianism (Part Five): Case Study Three: Substance Metaphysics and Analytical Theism

In the introduction to his beautiful biography of Thomas Aquinas, G. K. Chesterton reminisced that, “A lady I knew picked up a book of selections from St. Thomas, with a commentary; and began hopefully to read a section with the innocent heading, The Simplicity of God.  She then laid the book down with a sigh and said: “well, if that’s His simplicity, I wonder what His complexity is like.’”[1] These days, a great many words in contemporary theology are held aloft on the long sigh of Chesterton’s anonymous friend.  “The claim that God is simple,” writes Jay Wesley Richards, “is as obscure to most modern Christians as it is prevalent in classical theism.”[2]  Or as Stephen Holmes notes, “to say this doctrine [of simplicity] has something of a public relations problem is to understate the issue considerably,”[3] because, as Robert Jenson put it over twenty-five years ago: “rejection of the dominant tradition just at this point [divine simplicity] is endemic in contemporary theology.”[4]  This rejection of simplicity is so widespread, it even made an unlikely (and clumsy) cameo appearance in a New York Times bestselling book—Richard Dawkins’ The God Delusion.[5]

And yet a prevalent feature of the “gaps” in historiographical commentary amongst theological engagement with simplicity is both the assumption that it provides something of a preconceived philosophical control on Trinitarian theological discourse (a variation of the Western/Eastern Trinitarian paradigm) and that what it would mean for God to be “simple” is being understood and produced in a manner univocal to creatures.  As Christopher Franks laments of many of Simplicity’s current analytic crusaders: “The problem is related to … the assumption that there is a tradition connecting … Aquinas [with what] can be called a tradition of ‘perfect-being theism.’ For Aquinas [however] God is precisely not a being.  God’s simplicity then, is not the simplicity of a perfect being.”[6] 

Thus the tradition is assumed to be capable of univocal precision and defended along those very lines, without noticing that they have conscripted various arguments out of their more robustly theological contexts.  James Dolezal concurs that the same phenomenon applies to modern detractors to simplicity: “the outstanding common denominator in each of these serious and sophisticated arguments against [Simplicity] is the strong commitment to ontological univocism,” so that “each critic speaks as if God and creatures were ‘beings’ in the exact same sense, reducing the Creator-creature distinction to a difference of degrees.”[7]  In this vein, Stephen Holmes notes quite perceptively that he believes a majority of contemporary criticisms of simplicity are “wrongheaded” precisely because these critiques are “just not what any important part of the tradition meant when they confessed God’s simplicity.” Holmes therefore says that he can only conclude “modern problems are the result of a misunderstanding of the tradition somewhere.”[8]  In a more recent, related article, Holmes writes of Simplicity and its relation to analogy and Trinitarianism:

[Some] traditional attributes [in Analytic theology] have been more contentious, notably eternity, simplicity, and aseity.  Each can find its defenders, but in each case strong criticisms concerning coherence have been mounted that are regarded by many as at best unanswered and possibly unanswerable.  Rather than considering these debates in detail, it is perhaps worth pausing at the level of methodology.  The central task of analytic work is to attain conceptual clarity; if words are carefully defined and equally carefully used, then sense will emerge [note how this reflects emerging nominalist trends].  There is no question that this is a procedure in deep conformity with aspects of the Christian theological tradition; it is the essence of St. Thomas’ intellectual endeavor, for instance, to strive for clarity of meaning and expression.  However, St. Thomas balances this with a profound appreciation of the fundamental mystery of the divine life.  We are not able to achieve analytic clarity when we speak of God’s essence; instead, all our language is necessarily analogical, a halting gesturing toward a luminous truth that shines too brightly for us to ever see clearly.  The centrality of this limitation may be seen from its importance in the defining of orthodox Trinitarian doctrine in the fourth century … In classical doctrines of the divine perfections, this doctrine of analogy plays an important part in defining how differing divine attributes are related.  At the heart of this is the doctrine of divine simplicity.  ‘Simplicity’ is, traditionally a central divine attribute that claims that god is no way composite or divided.  This conditions the accounts of all other divine attributes, which are clearly multiple.  So we claim that God is variously good, just, loving, omnipotent, eternal, and so on, whereas the doctrine of divine simplicity insists that God is in fact just God, [emphasis added] and that our multiple perceptions are primarily a feature of our inability to grasp or articulate divine perfection … There is a standard analytic ‘disproof’ of divine simplicity that picks up on this use, while ignoring the warning concerning analogy…and that thus illustrates the potential problems with recent perfect being theology.  Simplicity, it is claimed, teaches that God is identical with his attributes, but it seems to follow that if God is identical with his love, and God is identical with his omnipresence, it seems to follow that God’s love is identical with God’s omnipresence, which is obviously meaningless.  The answer to this point is to insist on the partial, hesitant, and analogical nature of the language being used [to signify that God is God].[9]

There is, as such, a peculiar distortion that stands between modern commentary and traditional sources.  It will be no surprise to readers at this point that one such refracting “lens” on the tradition comes by way of neo-Thomism.  Perhaps no one has put his finger on this trend more acutely than Jean-Luc Marion has in a recent essay.[10]  Marion investigates the use of the Latin term idipsum (the self-same) in Augustine, and discovers the term has two general senses.  It means at some points “the thing itself,” or at other points that which remains what it is.[11]  Yet he notes most translators miss these specific uses “and often translate the term ‘being-itself.’”  This perhaps seems innocuous, yet this switch loads into Augustine’s use of idipsum a very particular philosophical history.  As an example note Confessions IX.4.11: “O’ in pace! O’ in Idipsum! [Ps. 4:9]…tu es idipsum valde, quia non mutaris,” which presumably should be translated: “O’ in peace, O’ in the selfsame … you are the self-same, you, who never change…” Yet in the translation by Boulding (representing one of many other translations) we read: “… Oh! In Being Itself … you are Being itself, unchangeable …”[12] 

This is not an oversight, says Marion, rather “the fact is that some end up translating another text, unwritten but dominant, which nevertheless superimposed itself on Augustine’s text and fused with it.”[13] As such there is “a clear pattern, which comes from the fact that they do not translate idipsum but rather what they spontaneously read instead of it: ipsum esse [being itself].”[14]  Thus when we search for a reason for this mistake regarding what otherwise should be obvious translational choices, it stems from relatively recent historical narratives: “one has to move further into the modern era to find its true paradigm,”[15] as Marion says.

Here it is specifically modern neo-Thomism that Marion argues is in large part responsible:

These slips in translations are, of course, not purely fortuitous, nor are they caused by inattention on the part of the translators, who are otherwise consistently excellent.  On the contrary, they result from too much earnestness, not on the philological but on the conceptual level: the (neo-)Thomist de-nomination of the most proper name of God determines their understanding of the Augustinian de-nomination of God’s name in such an indelible way that they do not refrain from correcting the latter through the former.[16]

The attempt to make (a certain sort of) Thomist out of the whole tradition means that translators understand idipsum “so resolutely in the sense of ipsum esse that, even when constrained by philology to translate it literally as the same thing, or the same, that is, without ontological import, the ontological claim remains intact and, to complete itself, is added to the … sentence, so that it may be maintained at all cost and survive.”[17]  Nor is this conspiracy mongering; Marion cites the explicit concession of several translators, here Aimé Solignac: “[Idipsum], as we obviously see, is the technical term similar to the Ego sum qui sum of Exodus, a term which, understood in a metaphysical sense, defines God … the best translation in French seems to be: Being itself” [Italics original to Marion’s citation].[18]  Marion retorts immediately after the Solignac quote: “It is quite clear: the translation of idipsum that conflates it with ipsum esse is not based on the text nor St. Augustine’s theology, but on interpretation of the term ‘in a metaphysical sense’ [as Solignac uses it].”[19]

To be clear, what is at stake in this discussion is not the legitimacy of Augustine’s occasional use of the terms ipsum esse and idipsum esse.[20]  Nor indeed is it a tout court condemnation of Aquinas’ much more systematized use.  Rather it is to point toward how these are being used by translators and theologians as theological controls on Augustine’s thought in a way alien to the Bishop himself, making Augustine’s use of these terms not only determinative of idipsum (rather than vice-versa) but also a precursor to post-16th century readings of Thomas influenced by nominalism which tend to destabilize and exaggerate interpretations of Augustine himself.[21]  The translations suggest not just an infidelity to Augustinian terminology (though the glossing of idipsum is exactly this) but in the mode of their employment.  Augustine’s primary use is both apophatic and doxological (“What is idipsum, the thing itself?  How shall I say it, for if not by saying idipsum? Brothers, if you are able, understand idipsum.  For whatever else I will have said [of God] I cannot speak the idipsum”).[22] 

These names are not terms meant to be utilized as the capstone of an airtight theoretical system, as in Heidegger’s charge of Western onto-theology, but ways of human grasping which address God as the one who addressed us as Himself.  Theoretical insights are certainly possible from them, but the mode of these secondary insights would not be in the key of a “technology of the divine” but praise, and in fact the destabilization of set systems.  Thus when Augustine does call God “being itself,” this is not a content-rich claim somehow pried apart as a foundational control on all subsequent revelation, but is measured by idipsum—which is to say to call God “being itself” is to say God is God, the selfsame: “idipsum quod Deus est, quidquid illud est” (“that itself which is God, whatever that is”).[23]  The idipsum is meant to say God is his own metric, He cannot be measured by any concept but Himself, as Karl Barth is wont to reiterate.  This is the basis of God’s non-competitive transcendence in Augustine.[24]  God as idipsum is not merely the highest exemplification of being who jostles for priority of influence in a zero-sum system consisting of other more diminutive agencies; nor is God in some sense merely supernal as the negation of finite creation, thereby placing Him in a dialectic with the world—where His transcendence could only appear as abstract and empty, and eventually as an airy and antiquated notion to be shorn off as unnecessary to understand the much more concrete cosmos.  Augustine’s use of idipsum speaks of a different logic entirely.

            Janet Martin Soskice has more generally called the transition from the “Divine Names” of the Patristic and Medieval tradition, to the “Divine Attributes,” of a Modernity embodied in Descartes, Locke, Hobbes, and others.[25]  In particular, her essay focuses on comparing and contrasting Thomas Aquinas and John Locke.  She writes that the question “how can we name God,” can be taken in two senses: as primarily ontological, or epistemological.[26] These two emphases, however, says Soskice, should initially caution us to reflect upon the otherwise banal but wide-reaching fact “that the same term may serve different functions in different theologies.”[27]  Whereas, for Aquinas—however technical his theology may seem—it was always meant as a cautious and analogical approach to understanding with some manner of consistency how scripture (and so revelation) names God, and can be clarified by reason.  Moreover, Aquinas’ theology is meant to be understood as a manner of elaborating union with God in Christ, a sort of discipleship manual for theological exegesis and contemplation of God.[28]  Locke’s understanding of predicating attributes to God, however, is based on the primacy of reason, even to the extent that it replaces scripture, which Locke deems often obscure and confusing.  As Soskice summarizes the matter:

When Aquinas dealt with such predicates such as ‘eternal,’ ‘one’ and ‘simple’ he stood in a tradition of reflections de nominibus Dei going back to Denys the Areopagite and beyond—a theological and mystical as well as philosophical tradition.  Locke’s confidence that not only God’s existence but also God’s qualities could be spelled out apart from revelation and through rational reflection alone is not new, or rather was new in Descartes, [emphasis added] whom Locke follows here.  Appellations that had been distinctively theological became with Descartes the terminology of rational analysis and metaphysics alone.  With Descartes the ‘divine names’ have become ‘classical attributes.’[29]

Jean-Luc Marion names a nearly identical transition: The problem of the divine names—originally a theological issue—is transposed here [with Descartes] for perhaps the first time, into the strictly metaphysical domain.  Here we find, in its most essential roots, the foreshadowing of what will become some centuries later our modern question: what name is Metaphysics qualified to give to God; what speech is metaphysics able to utter concerning God?”[30]  This epistemological dilemma does not remain isolated in philosophy, but enters into theology through a variety of channels—for our purposes through neo-Thomism codified via Pope Leo XIII’s encyclical Aeterni Patris.  As Alasdair MacIntyre notes, the single most important influence upon Aeterni Patris was the Thomist, Joseph Kleutgen—though curiously Kleutgen’s legacy, much like Barnes’ judgment upon Kleutgen’s near-contemporary de Regnón we saw a moment ago, is that it was as ubiquitous as it was invisible: “[Kleutgen] was probably the most influential Catholic theologian in the nineteenth century, though there is no study or biography and he does not have an entry in the Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church,” as Fergus Kerr puts it.[31]

 MacIntyre continues: “Kleutgen was a thinker of outstanding philosophical ability and erudition and it is unsurprising that he and Thomists who shared his attitudes should have created a climate of opinion in which a certain way of reading Aeterni Patris was almost taken for granted.”[32] What was this climate of opinion?  Kleutgen identified a discontinuity in the history of Western philosophy separating prior times from modernity.  Yet, MacIntyre notes, “Kleutgen mislocated the rupture.” By locating the break with Descartes, but the continuity up through Suarez, Kleutgen “overrated later Scholasticism’s genuine debt to Aquinas,” and as such failed to “distinguish adequately the positions of Aquinas and of Suarez.”[33]  Suarez, says MacIntyre, “both in his preoccupations and in his methods, was already a distinctively modern thinker, perhaps more authentically than Descartes, the founder of modern philosophy.”[34]  Thus whereas Aquinas’ actual method is  “engaged in describing how the mind moves to the achievement of truth … [where] the work is one of conceptual clarification, analysis, and description,” and not at what we would call epistemological justification.  As such Aquinas’ method reflects on the range of questions and answers given up until his time to isolate the best answers given so far. 

Kleutgen, however, “treats Aquinas as presenting a finished system whose indebtedness to earlier writers is no more than an accidental feature of it.  And in so doing reproduces Suarez rather than Aquinas.”[35] Thus MacIntyre opines:

It was a mark of the unusual philosophical ingenuity of Kleutgen that, having first misidentified Aquinas’ central positions with those of Suarez, thus opening up a kind of epistemological question for which there is no place within Aquinas’ own scheme of thought, he went on to supply an epistemological answer to that question by reading into texts in De Veritate an epistemological argument which is not in fact there.  So by this creative multiplication of misinterpretations Aquinas was presented as the author of one more system confronting the questions of Cartesian and post-Cartesian epistemology, advancing, so Kleutgen contended, sounder answers than either Descartes or Kant.  None of this is in fact to be found in Aeterni Patris itself … Scholasticism is praised insofar as it continued the work of Aquinas.  And Aquinas’s achievement is understood as the culmination of tradition, to which both pre-Christian and patristic authors have contributed.  Epistemological questions are nowhere adverted to.  Yet those who responded to Aeterni Patris all too often followed Kleutgen in making epistemological concerns central to their Thomism.  And in so doing they doomed Thomism to the fate of all philosophies which give priority to epistemological questions: the indefinite multiplication of disagreement.  There are just too many alternative ways to begin … [A host of Thomists began] contrasting the unity of Thomist thought, its ability to integrate disparate elements within itself, with the falling into contention of those disparate elements in the history of philosophy from Descartes onward so that unresolvable disagreements were continually multiplied … Thomism, by epistemologizing itself after Aeterni Patris, proceeded to reenact the disagreements of post-Cartesian philosophy.[36]

           
There are undoubtedly a variety of important outcomes that result from this confusion of Suarez with Aquinas himself.  For our purposes, with an eye to the Trinitarian renaissance and the notion of simplicity Suarez’ commentary is a leading candidate for the complaint of Holmes, Franks, Richards, and Dolezal that we saw above.  To refresh: they each in their own way point out that both detractors and advocates of divine simplicity do not seem to be dealing with the doctrine as it operated in classical theology.  Now, granted that DDS was not itself monolithic but had a variety of expressions (As Russell Friedman puts it “simplicity can be something of an elastic concept, admitting of degrees …”)[37], nonetheless Holmes and company are right insofar as they identify a sea-change of sorts.  Holmes noted that simplicity was meant to identify that “God is God” and that the “standard analytic disproof” of divine simplicity that all the attributes are identical with one another is missing how this doctrine actually functions even in its strongest form in Aquinas.  On the other side, Franks notes that defenders (primarily analytic theologians and philosophers) of the doctrine often champion it only from a philosophical perspective, thereby losing sight of its exegetical and theological “home.”  The question therefore becomes: how did it become primarily a philosophical problem?  As Radde-Gallwitz puts it, however, “this interpretation of the meaning of simplicity [as identity among attributes] itself has a history.”[38]

            Here Suarez (and to this we should add Cardinal Cajetan) as a commentator on Thomas comes in, though we can only deal with it briefly in order to make the connection.  Whereas for Thomas God’s simplicity, for example, was meant to identify the God who was fully in act in the divine economy, for Suarez (and here he anticipates Kant, and later Frege) “existence” does not add anything conceptually to “essence.”  Which means that the unity of God’s attributes are no longer viewed as such because of the personal Divine unity of act and being (Holmes’ specific complaint), but because at some abstract level of essence all the attributes must be identical with one another.  In this way analysis is now ripe “for some systematic science of being qua being completely free from existence as being itself actually is.”[39]  This is something that becomes shared with the philosophical environment of Suarez’ day however varied the material propositions involved—Descartes, Leibniz, Spinoza, et al: “It seems, then, to be a fact that in the seventeenth-century classical metaphysics, essence reigns supreme.”[40]  In fact, Gilson notes how essence has turned against existence, fundamentally inverting earlier claims in the tradition like Aquinas.  In his own way (though with somewhat different judgment regarding what it means), Eberhard Jüngel also narrates how in modern though God’s essence and God’s existence are turned against one another, leading to the collapse of the doctrine of God metaphysically conceived.[41]

            Just as important as this shift in perspective, however (and we might remind ourselves of the transition from “Divine Names” to “Divine Attributes” that Soskice spoke of in this respect), is the fact that Suarez comes to his position, remarkably enough, by believing he is commenting on the authentic meaning of Thomas himself.  As such it appears that however diverse the post-Cartesian philosophical environment is, in many ways its difficulties and successes can be seen as merely perpetuating the discourse of Aquinas or Augustine.  Undoubtedly at one level modern philosophical discourse has rightly been shown over the last half-century to be far more indebted to the scholasticism it often decried.  And yet this should not blind us to shifts that occurred even amongst the various similarities.  Without wanting to play Radical Orthodoxy’s game of “pin the Modernity on Scotus,” nonetheless in this case Scotus is a factor in the shift: Suarez “centered much of his career on commenting on Aquinas, and yet on the crucial issue of language about God, he appealed to Aquinas greatest rival among medieval philosophers, John Duns Scotus.”[42]

           
It is thus not surprising given Holmes’ accusations above about typical “Analytic” critiques of simplicity, that certain Analytic theologians and philosophers, when commentating on Aquinas, mistake Suarez (or Scotus) for Aquinas’ own position.  In fact in some works this is not even subterranean to the arguments but explicitly stated.  Richard Swinburne in The Coherence of Theism notes that Aquinas’ theory of how one might talk about God and creatures “boils down to that of Scotus” in the sense that predicating attributes of God is more or less the same as it is in any mundane situation with the caveat that it is amplified to an infinite mode.[43]  The “Suarezian” essentialist interpretation of divine simplicity colors his take on the tradition of simplicity as it is interpolated back upon the tradition at large.  Accounts of the DDS, he says, have “recently got a bad name for itself by being equated with the very paradoxical way in which it was expounded in late patristic and subsequent medieval philosophy.”  This paradoxical way is that “all the divine properties are identical with each other and with God.”  But he asks, “how can God, who is a substance, an entity who possesses properties, be the same as those properties? And how can they be identical with each other?  How can omnipotence be the same property as omniscience?”[44]  Similarly, Alvin Plantinga’s famous critique of DDS in his Does God Have a Nature? argues that if DDS holds, God has but one property—and even more damningly God is nothing but a property.  But properties cannot love, become incarnate, or create.  Hence Plantinga rejects the DDS as incompatible with Christian theism.[45]

            Our point here is not that Swinburne, Plantinga, and others have no legitimate complaints when it comes to (certain types of) the doctrine of simplicity, rather it has been to sketch that their interpretation of DDS in Aquinas and the tradition at large is itself in many ways indebted to Scotus, and more proximately the “essentialism” of neo-Thomism by way of earlier commentators like Cajetan and Suarez.  This runs into Leonine Thomism by the likes of Kleutgen and others, who utilize certain foundational conceptions of God’s “essence” in an attempt to counter modern skepticism.  What we have here is the strong and purely philosophical form of DDS, one that is being used as rationally demonstrable natural theology to provide a foundation for later “theological” claims, in fact has a pedigree in neo-Thomism which has also found a second life in certain strands of Analytic theism.  As such it is no surprise, as Vanhoozer writes of Classical Theism’s contemporary detractors that they “[conflate] the development of the doctrine of God in the church during the patristic, medieval, and Reformation eras with the more modern approach, characteristic of natural theology or analytical theism.”[46]




[1] G.K. Chesterton, Saint Thomas Aquinas: The Dumb Ox (New York: DoubleDay, 1956), xvi.
[2] Jay Wesley Richards, The Untamed God: A Philosophical Exploration of Divine Perfection, Simplicity, and Immutability (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 2003), 213.
[3] Steven R. Holmes, “Something Much Too Plain To Say: Towards A Defense of the Doctrine of Simplicity,” Neue Zeitschrift für Systematische Theologie. 43 (2001): 137.
[4] Robert Jenson, "The Triune God” in Robert Jenson and Carl Braaten, eds., Christian Dogmatics 2 vols. (Philadelphia, PA: Fortress Press, 1984), 1: 166.
[5] Cf. Richard Dawkins, The God Delusion (New York: Houghton-Mifflin Company, 2006),134f.  Dawkins is of course, unaware of Divine Simplicity as a theological issue, and only obliquely attacks it by registering it as an assault on the coherence of God as an explanation for the universe precisely because, he says, any entity that made the universe would have to be more complex than the universe. This would violate (what he takes to be) Ockham’s famous razor.  This is an absurd position even before one arrives at the doctrine of simplicity, for as John Lennox likes to put it, “Henry Ford was more complex than the Model-T, and yet he created it.” Perhaps surprisingly given the general animus toward the doctrine, a recent and sophisticated account of God’s existence has been given with the doctrine of simplicity as a primary movement.: Robert J. Spitzer, New Proofs for the Existence of God: Contributions of Contemporary Physics and Philosophy (Grand Rapids: Eerdman’s Publishing, 2010), 122ff.; David Bentley Hart, The Experience of God: Being, Consciousness, Bliss (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2013), 134ff.
[6] Christopher A. Franks, “The Simplicity of the Living God: Aquinas, Barth, and Some Philosophers,” Modern Theology, 21:2 (2005): 275-300.  Quote at 286.; Radde-Gallwitz in his own way also refutes this position by critiquing what he terms the “epistemological priority of definition,” (Transformation of Divine Simplicity, 3) by which he means that to know something, one must be able to define its essence.  If this epistemological criterion is true, Simplicity thus entails a sort of perfect knowledge (univocity) or a denial of any knowledge (equivocity).  The first Radde-Gallwitz associates with Eunomius and Aetius, the second with Clement of Alexandria.  He continues his argument precisely by claiming that the Cappadocian fathers Basil and Gregory Nyssa work out their theology as a sort of “middle-way” between these shifting extremes.  It is curious, and in regards to our thesis, no accident, that D. Stephen Long (Speaking of God) notices a similar oscillation between univocity and equivocity in predication as in fact underlying large swaths of current problems within modern theology.  Thomas Aquinas attempts to navigate a similar polarity by refuting Moses Maimonides (who championed something akin to equivocity) and Allan of Lille (who tended toward univocity) by proffering his concept of analogy and participation.
[7] Dolezal, God Without Parts, 29.   He continues: “Given this outlook, it is no wonder that [Divine Simplicity] appears incoherent to many modern philosophers and theologians.  [On this account] God, it would seem, could no more be identical with his existence and attributes than any creature could be really identical with its existence and attributes.” (ibid.) 
[8] Stephen Holmes, “Something Much Too Plain To Say: Towards A Defense of the Doctrine of Simplicity,” Neue Zeitschrift für Systematische Theologie. No.43 (2001): 140.
[9] Stephen Holmes “Divine Attributes,” in Mapping Modern Theology, 62-63.  While we agree that analytic theology is often beholden to the univocal shifts we have touched upon, we do not insist that this is always so and certainly am not closing the door a priori on analytic work, even in regards to the Trinity.  It is a sad fact, however, that up until recently analytic theology has essentially been done with little sense of history, and as such treats doctrine as essentially the manipulation of timeless ideas.  C.f. Milbank, Beyond Secular Order, 39: “After Scotus, all these transcendental terms were generally no longer held to be fully ‘convertible’ with each other, such that (as for Aquinas), we only distinguish their infinite uncreated, or even their finite, created instances from each other from our limited cognitive point of view.  Instead, it was now held that these terms must be ‘formally distinguished’ from each other, on pain of losing their separate meanings, since it was now supposed that we have full and complete insight into those meanings, precisely because ‘transcendental’ had already come to denote, long before Kant, an a priori grasp of the possible range of meaning of these terms.  This implies, questionably, that we can comprehend categorically the mode of that ‘truth’ ‘goodness’ or ‘beauty’ which is possible for us to comprehend, and that we can know in advance what formal shape it will take.”
[10] Jean-Luc Marion, “Idipsum: The Name of God According to Augustine,” in Orthodox Readings of Augustine, 167-191.
[11] Ibid., 175.
[12] Quoted in Ibid.
[13] Ibid., 176.
[14] Ibid.
[15] Ibid., 178.
[16] Ibid., 177.
[17] Ibid., 177.
[18] Ibid.
[19] Ibid.
[20] Cf. Jean-Luc Marion, God Without Being: Hors-Texte trans. Thomas A. Carlson (Chicago: University of Chicago, 1995), xxiii: “Even when he thinks God as esse, Saint Thomas nevertheless does not chain God either to Being or to metaphysics.  He does not chain God to Being because the divine esse immeasurably surpasses (and hardly maintains an analogia with) the ens commune of creatures, which are characterized by the real distinction between esse and their essence, whereas God, and He alone, absolutely merges essence with esse: God is expressed as esse, but this esse is expressed only of God, not of the beings of metaphysics.  In this sense, Being does not erect an idol before God, but saves His distance.”
[21] Vladimir Lossky, “Elements of ‘Negative Theology’ in the Thought of St. Augustine,” St. Vladimir’s Theological Quarterly, vol.21 (1977) again shows his polemical relation to neo-Thomistic refraction which exaggerates the differences Lossky otherwise rightly sees between Augustine and Dionysius circulating precisely around an interpretation of Augustine’s concept of ipsum esse: “[Dionysius] insists on the superessential character of the Thearchy, whereas St. Augustine saw the excellence of ‘Being-Itself.’” (73). Even more than any East/West divide based on conceptions of the Trinity—which as we have seen is present but subdued in Lossky—Lossky “reads the defining difference between ‘Western’ and ‘Eastern’ Christian approaches to theology by their different understandings of apophaticism, seen in the ‘West’ primarily in the thought of Augustine and Aquinas, and in the ‘East’ in the thought of Dionysius and Gregory Palamas.” (Papanikolau, Being With God, 19). Undoubtedly one could make the argument that there is value in such distinctions, but the sharpness of the divide is exaggerated precisely by a particularly strong kataphatic interpretation of Augustine’s claims which stems from viewing him through the neo-Thomist lenses Marion has identified.  Also in the background is Lossky’s own relation to neo-Thomist critiques of Palamas of his day, which sharpen the divide from the other direction (Being With God 29f).
[22] Ennarations on Psalm 121.5.
[23] De Trinitate, II.18.35.
[24] On the concept of non-competitive transcendence, cf. Kathryn Tanner, God and Creation.; Pannenberg, Systematic Theology, I:400: "The Infinite that is merely a negation of the finite is not yet truly seen as the Infinite ... for it is defined by delimitation from something else, i.e the finite. Viewed in this way the Infinite is a something in distinction from something else, and it is thus finite. The Infinite is truly infinite only when it transcends its own antithesis to the finite. In this sense the Holiness of God is truly infinite, for it is opposed to the profane, penetrates it, and makes it holy..."
[25] Janet Martin Soskice, “Naming God: A Study of Faith and Reason,” in Paul Griffiths and Reinhard Hütter, eds., Reason and the Reasons of Faith (New York: T&T Clark, 2005), 241-254.  Cf. Marion, “The Essential Incoherence,” 297: “The problem of the divine names—originally a theological issue—is transposed here [with Descartes] for perhaps the first time, into the strictly metaphysical domain.  Here we find, in its most essential roots, the foreshadowing of what will become some centuries later our modern question: what name is Metaphysics qualified to give to God; what speech is metaphysics able to utter concerning God?”
[26] Ibid., 254.
[27] Ibid., 252.
[28] Cf. Matthew Levering, Scripture and Metaphysics, 1-47 for an introduction to Aquinas through this theme of contemplating God.  It is helpful to note that our abstract associations in modern English with the word “contemplation,” cannot be read back on Aquinas.  Contemplation involved both virtue and theory.
[29] Soskice, “Naming God, 247.  Cf. Long, Speaking of God,180: “Language such as divine immutability, impassibility, and ‘actus purus’ basically disappeared in the twentieth century; the theologians who defend them today are a distinct minority.  Those who would recognize them as arising from this biblical tradition of the divine names [emphasis added] are even fewer.  Such a loss makes it more difficult to speak well of God, for it loses the ‘way’ or logic of speaking of God that Jesus is.”  Cf. 185: “Once the tradition of the divine names was transformed into metaphysical attributes, then God as Simple, Perfect, Infinite, Eternal, Impassible, and Unchangeable became subject to the same fate as metaphysics itself.  The modern era proclaimed the end of metaphysics.  If the ‘attributes’ of God depended upon a pure metaphysical reason, then with the end of metaphysics, those attributes would likewise come to an end, and this is what we see taking place in much of contemporary theology.  It radically shifts, almost in a discontinuity with Christians who came before us, how we speak of God.
[30] Jean-Luc Marion, “The Essential Incoherence of Descartes’ Definition of Divinity,” in Amelie Rorty, ed., Essays on Descartes’ Meditations (Berkley: University of California, 1986), 297; Babcock, “The Changing of the Christian God,” 145-146: “If we want, then, to understand the ‘vast puzzles’ [quoting Nicholas Lash] that lurk behind the shift in the identity of Western Christianity’s God, we will need to discover how to plot—not only for the history of culture generally but also and quite specifically for the history of Christianity and of Christian theology—the ways in which human sensibilities changed in the seventeenth century.  The changes were vast enough to require a new language for their expression, the language that first Bacon and then Locke sought to provide; and they were vast enough, too, to lead Christians to abandon their ancient name for God—in effect, to adopt another God.”  On this Nicholas Wolterstorff, “The Migration of the Theistic Arguments: From Natural Theology to Evidentialist Apologetics,” in Rationality, Religious Belief, and Moral Commitment: New Essays in the Philosophy of Religion, ed. Robert Audi and William Wainwright (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1986), 39, argues for a similar shift: “The medieval project of natural theology was profoundly different from the Enlightenment project of evidentialist apologetics.  It had different goals, presupposed different convictions, and was evoked by a different situation.  It is true that some of the same arguments occur in both projects; they migrate from one to the other.  But our recognition of the identity of the émigré must not blind us to the fact that he has migrated from one ‘world’ to another.” Cf. Simon Oliver, “Motion According to Aquinas and Newton,” Modern Theology 17:2 (April, 2001): 163-199, where he compares and contrasts Aquinas with Newton on the somewhat strange-sounding topic of how both view “motion” in relation to God.  Oliver argues that Isaac Newton’s mechanistic conception of matter and motion were logically related to his non-trinitarian Voluntarism and Arianism.  Precisely because Christ was not viewed as God Incarnate, the Eternally Begotten Logos-Wisdom of the Father to which the ordered causality and intelligible motion of the world bear analogical witness, God’s relation to creation became envisioned purely along the lines of an act of sheer Will.  Cf. 191: “Ultimately, [for Aquinas] all motion is seen as a participation in the most perfect ‘motionless motion’ of the Trinitarian Godhead [that is, in the generation of the Son and procession of the Spirit from the Father] in which all things are known, and thereby created and sustained, in the eternal emanation of the Son from the Father. By contrast, Newton outlined a view of motion, which saw this category as a primitive state to which bodies are indifferent. Thus motion tells us nothing about the ontology of creation.” 
[31] Kerr, After Aquinas, 216 n.3.
[32] Alasdair MacIntyre, Three Rival Versions of Moral Inquiry: Encyclopedia, Genealogy, and Tradition (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1991), 73.
[33] Ibid.
[34] Ibid.
[35] Ibid., 74.
[36] Ibid. 75.
[37] Russell L. Friedman, Medieval Trinitarian Thought: From Aquinas to Ockham (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010), 100.; cf. Christopher Stead, “Divine Simplicity as a Problem for Orthodoxy,” Rowan Williams, ed., The Making of Orthodoxy: Essays in Honor of Henry Chadwick (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989), 256: “we must not think that simplicity is itself a simple notion.”; Andrew Radde-Gallwitz, Basil of Caesarea, Gregory of Nyssa, and the Transformation of Divine Simplicity (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009)
[38] Radde-Gallwitz, Transformation of Divine Simplicity, 5.  Here Radde-Gallwitz identifies this position with Augustine and Aquinas.  In a sense he is not wrong, but the specific nature of the identity-thesis accepted or rejected by our contemporary thought is often making quite different claims regarding the scope and function of the doctrine.
[39] Etienne Gilson, Being and Some Philosophers (Rome: Pontifical Institute of Medieval Studies, 1952), 112.
[40] Ibid., 111.
[41] Eberhard Jüngel, God as the Mystery of the World: On the Foundations of the Theology of the Crucified One in the Dispute Between Theism and Atheism. Trans. Darrel L. Guder (Grand Rapids: Eerdman’s Publishing, 1983), 105-226. Cf. Paul DeHart, Beyond the Necessary God: Trinitarian Faith and Philosophy in the Thought of Eberhard Jüngel (Atlanta: American Academy of Religion, 1999), e.g. 12: “for Jüngel, the philosophical and theological conception of God’s simplicity is centrally implicated in the collapse of traditional theistic models in post-Cartesian metaphysics.”  DeHart is quite right, however, to note that Jüngel’s theology is not merely a jettisoning of the doctrine of simplicity, but is in a certain sense the “search for a new doctrine of simplicity” (15) that uses multiple sources, perhaps most notably Karl Barth, to reevaluate what it means to say God’s essence is identical to His existence.
[42] Placher, Domestication of Transcendence, 75.
[43] Richard Swinburne, The Coherence of Theism (Oxford: Oxford University, 1993), 81.
[44] Richard Swinburne, The Christian God (Oxford: Oxford University, 1994), 160.
[45] Alvin Plantinga, Does God Have a Nature? (Milwaukie: Marquette University Press, 1980), 47.
[46] Vanhoozer, Remythologizing Theology, 89.

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