How Neo-Thomism Affected 20th Century Trinitarianism (Part Two) - Thesis Continued

We must be clear on what we mean here: we are not making the common-sense point that theological sensibilities have changed, and with it the theology expressing those sensibilities.  Rather more importantly, we are arguing that changes in the theological imagination (for lack of a better term) have also had a retroactive effect upon how traditional sources are interpreted, accepted, or rejected—in particular we are looking at how the construct “classical theism” has been generated.  As Henri de Lubac tersely summarizes regarding a slightly different—albeit related--context: “The building up of … new theory had varying repercussions on the interpretation given to older texts.”[1]  Or in Cyril O’Regan’s neologism: what we are suffering is an act of “misremembering.”[2]  Take, for example, Daniel Costello’s recent judgment on widespread criticisms of “classical theism” based on the perception that it fosters (indeed, demands) a cold and detached God due to the “classical theistic” emphasis on divine impassibility:

Unfortunately in the area of systematic theology, if the theme of divine impassibility does happen to be mentioned, it is usually in the form of derision, usually with the evaluation of past sources as inadequate or overly wedded to past conceptual tendencies.  With such approaches, thinkers try to resolve or improve these sources rather than entertain or engage them on their own terms … Often … the dismissal is phrased as a rejection of ‘classical theism.’  This phrase is a catch-all category, suggesting that previous voices within the tradition operated by means of a unified account of metaphysics that has as its orienting concerns Hellenistic philosophical categories … This narrative is both comforting and helpful when contemporary observers have to wrestle with the fact that for many in the ancient church the axiom of divine impassibility was prominent in their God-talk.  This linguistic and conceptual feature can be explained away as an accident of history rather than a category that was used intentionally and in a qualified way by many within the early church.  The narrative of ‘classical theism’ is a convenient way of sidestepping the difficulty that is involved in speaking about historical constructs that address the relationship between God and suffering.  Is it no wonder then that so many individuals assume this grand narrative? ... [Yet] given that ‘classical theism’ is an anachronistic category of convenience for labeling different and distinct voices under one heading, the term fails to account for the multivalent ways in which divine impassibility functioned for numerous ancient writers and thinkers, especially those who were able to affirm both divine impassibility and the legitimacy and value of the incarnate Christ who suffered in the flesh … [I argue] that the category of ‘classical theism’ [is] nonviable for contemporary systematics … [Emphasis added].[3]

Castelo continues, and observes of the “suffering God” debate that: “Historical narrations of the shift [to a passible God] have ensued with the purposes of establishing some sort of continuity with the received tradition, but interestingly enough the assessment of the change has occurred post-factum to divine passibility’s establishment as the biblical and conceptual norm.” In other words, “the impulse to affirm ‘a suffering God’ was often applied to, rather than generated from, the inquiry itself, thereby skewing the ensuing historical findings and reconstructions.”[4]  Misunderstanding this difference, “leads to a veritable tower of Babel,” says Marc Steen.  “Fighting traditional theism at the present time as if it introduced the notion of an ‘apathetic’ that is, a cool and indifferent God, often seems to be a battle like Don Quixote’s.”  And this is because of a failure to recognize “the term (im)passibility does not always and everywhere have one and the same connotation.”[5]  “To put it bluntly,” says Rob Lister, “ancient advocates and contemporary critics of divine impassibility use the same terminology … but they mean quite different things when they explain what it means for God to be impassible.”[6] 

Nor is this historiographical critique of the category “classical
theism” limited to the attribute of immutability.  Several commentators on theism’s typical poster-child, Thomas Aquinas, with an eye to the historiography we are now talking about, note he is not a “Classical theist,”[7] in this sense (undoubtedly, a rather startling claim).  As such, it might be better, as Kevin Vanhoozer puts it,  “to distinguish the biblical-theological theism of the patristic, medieval, and Reformation eras from the more properly philosophical theism of the modern era,”[8] and (reminiscent of Babcock’s claims above) “the ‘Theory of Theology’s Fall Into Philosophy’[9] looks stronger when one examines what happened in modern rather than ancient times.”[10]  Vanhoozer thus uses the paradoxical but useful term “neo-Classical theism,” to distinguish the later developments from “Classical theism,” in the Church Fathers, while Brian Davies in a related sense argues we should make a distinction between the “Classical theism” of the tradition, and more modern iterations which he deems “theistic personalism.”[11]

This gap (or perhaps better: gaps) cry out for explanation: what happened to account for such a disconnect? To fully explain why these gaps between the sources and their current reception yawns in theological literature is too vast to be contained in this essay—or even by any individual academic.  Our thesis is thus limited: a gap can in part be illuminated by watching how many participated in, modified, or rejected how certain strands of late-19th and early 20th-century neo-Thomism interpreted and presented the entirety of the tradition.  Part of this narrative can be telescoped backwards into earlier changes that nominalism wrought, as several forms of neo-Thomism are themselves indebted to nominalist readings of Thomas put into action, though this part of the narrative will only be touched upon tangentially. Put otherwise: what passes as “classical theism” is often (though not exclusively) thought through the reception history of certain neo-Thomist discourse, rather than charitable engagement with the sources themselves.  In order to demonstrate this we will look at three case-studies or paradigms: the “foundational” nature of philosophy to theology; the “de Regnón paradigm” of Eastern and Western trinitarianism; and the effect that Karl Rahner’s “Rule” had on contemporary Trinitarianism with specific concern given to how the Rule represents the tradition to which it was formulated as a response.  These three test cases are not totally discrete, but should be seen as three different interlocking angles that together create the complex “classical theism.”  If our thesis is rendered plausible, then the reception, rejection, or modification of a tradition labeled “classical theism” and the concomitant moves made in systematic theology,  will need to seriously re-consider the extent to which it remains in fidelity to the tradition it presumes to comment upon.  It is the concern of this essay to simply point out the historiographical connections.  It will be left to a successor essay—tentatively titled “The Secret Fears of Our Trinitarianism” to look at how the undermining of these histories will play into systematic-theological formulations and revisions.



[1] Henri De Lubac, The Mystery of the Supernatural trans. Rosemary Sheed (New York: Cross Road Publishing, 1998), 6.
[2] Cyril O’Regan, The Anatomy of Misremembering: Von Balthasar’s Response to Philosophical Modernity (New York: Cross Road, 2014), 13ff.  Misremembering is not “forgetting,” it is rather an act that in the very gesture of affirming memory suffers “a failed form of thought.”  It thus distorts what it attempts to preserve in the act of preservation itself.
[3] Daniel Castelo, The Apathetic God: Exploring the Contemporary Relevance of Divine Impassibility (Eugene: Wipf and Stock, 2009), 40-41.
[4] Ibid., 10.
[5] Marc Steen, “The Theme of the ‘Suffering’ God: An Exploration,” in Jan Lambrecht and Raymond F. Collins, eds.,  God and Human Suffering (Louvain: Peeters, 1990), 86-87.
[6] Rob Lister, God is Impassible and Impassioned: Toward a Theology of Divine Emotion (New York: Crossway, 2012), 32.
[7] Fergus Kerr, After Aquinas: Versions of Thomism (Oxford: Blackwell Publishing, 2002), viii: “Thomas’ God, far from being the static entity of classical theism, is so ‘dynamic’ as to be describable primarily with verbs.”; Cf. Rudi Te Velde, Aquinas on God: The Divine Science of the Summa Theologia (Vermont: Ashgate Publishing, 2006), 85; cf. 172: “There is something in Thomas’ conception of God as ipsum esse per se subsistens that does not fit very well into the picture of ‘classical theism’.  Classical theism, as it is usually understood, tends to view God as an absolute entity existing independently of the world.  The theistic God looks more like a being, a ‘self-contained substance,’ above and apart from the world, than the pure actuality of subsistent being itself. From Thomas’ perspective, this would mean that the independence of God, as over against the world of finite beings, is conceived wrongly.  It is as if the character of subsistence, attributed to a theistically conceived God, is a logical expression by means of which we think of God as separated from the world, as a distinct reality, while Thomas intends to express by subsistence that the being of God is separated through itself from all other beings.  The difference is crucial.  For Thomas, God is not ‘separated’ from the world as a subsistent entity conceivable apart from his causal relationship to created beings; it is as cause of all beings that God ‘separates’ himself from all his effects by distinguishing those effects from himself.  In this sense the ‘concept’ of God is, in truth, the concept of the relationship of God and world, conceived as an ordered plurality of diverse beings, each of which receives its being from the divine source of being.  For Thomas there is no way of thinking of God concretely outside this relationship.  The independence, or absoluteness, of God characterizes the way He relates as cause to all other things; it is the independence of the perfect goodness of God, who is not under any obligation or necessity to fulfill himself by creating, but who acts out of his own goodness, establishing all other things in being by letting them share in his own perfection.”
[8] Vanhoozer, Remythologizing Theology, 94.
[9] Vanhoozer here explicitly borrows and modifies a phrase coined by Paul Gavrilyuk in The Suffering of the Impassible God.
[10] Vanhoozer, Remythologizing Theology., 93.; Similar charges have been leveled at Process Philosophy by Medieval historian David Burrell “Does Process Theology Rest on a Mistake?” Theological Studies 43 (1982), 129—noting what Process Philosophy often castigates as “Classical theism,” bears only superficial resemblance to a much more robust phenomenon (“a hodgepodge that bears little historical scrutiny” in his words), he asks: “wherein lies the appeal?”  On the next page he answers his own question by noting that despite Process philosophy’s own self-understanding, it was reacting not to classical theology, but to the abstract God of both Liberalism and more conservative strands of Natural theology, where the trinity and incarnation “were already vestigial myths” (130). This “merely monotheistic” God seemed both distant and abstract, and was anachronistically retrojected as implicit in Patristic and Medieval language of transcendence and its concomitants.  From such a vantage point, “classical treatments of divine transcendence, shorn of their intentional side as developed in the doctrines of Incarnation and of Trinity, could appear to be in need of radical revision. But in retrospect it might appear that so drastic a revision was required only because the earlier [modern, liberal] surgery had been so radical [Emphasis added]” (ibid.).
[11] Brian Davies, An Introduction to the Philosophy of Religion 3rd ed. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004), 1-21.

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