The text of Chapter 2 of Living Options in Protestant Theology,
Westminster Press, Philadelphia, 1972, reformatted from text
found
here.
Posted May 21, 2011
The Thomism of E. L. Mascall
John B.
Cobb, Jr.,
When we
think of natural theology, we think first and foremost of Thomism.
Natural theology existed before the time of Thomas, and many new forms
have appeared since his time, but it was he who gave classic statement
both to the relation of natural theology to Christian revelation and
also to the content of natural theology itself. The semiofficial
adoption of his basic formulations by the Roman Catholic Church has
guaranteed a historical importance to his work that is commensurate with
its intrinsic interest.
Our own
century has witnessed a revival of Thomism that has had great influence
even beyond the bounds of the Roman Catholic Church. For many
Protestants, as well as Roman Catholics, much of Thomas’ position
appears to be viable despite the lapse of centuries since its
formulation. Hence, even though this book limits itself to Protestant
theology, it is fitting that it begin with a serious discussion of
Thomism.
Unfortunately, despite the very real respect with which many Protestants
regard contemporary Thomism, they have left its exposition and
development largely in the hands of Roman Catholics. The names of
Etienne Gilson, Jacques Maritain, R. Garrigou-Lagrange, and E. Przywara
come readily to mind, but as Roman Catholics they are not available for
use here. However, E. L. Mascall, a contemporary Anglican theologian,
drawing heavily upon the writings especially of the French Thomists (E.
L. Mascall, He Who is: A Study in Traditional Theism, p. x.), has
done impressive work in interpreting and developing Thomism in a
non-Roman Catholic context.
Even
Mascall can be called a Protestant only by the very loosest use of the
term. He thinks of himself as a Catholic, and the detailed formulation
of his theology gives clear expression to this fact. In the following
exposition, predominant attention will be given to his natural theology
which, as such, would be quite compatible with non-Catholic doctrines.
Mascall’s Catholic theological position, which presupposes an
understanding of the church alien to Protestantism generally, is barely
sketched. His extensive discussions of the liturgy, orders, and
sacraments of the church are almost wholly neglected.
For
these aspects of Mascall’s work, see especially Corpus Christi; The
Recovery 0f Unity; and Christ, the Christian and the Church,
Chs. 9 to 11.
Contemporary Thomists are not concerned with slavishly reproducing the
ideas of Thomas Aquinas. They recognize that much of what he said was
conditioned by the naïve science of his day and by his excessive
commitment to Aristotelian philosophy. (E. L. Mascall, Existence and
Analogy, pp. xvii, 73, 77, 84-85.) But they do believe
that the basic principles and structure of his system provide the basis
for solving both the philosophical and the theological problems of our
own time. It will not be our concern in this chapter to judge whether
Thomas in fact intended all the ideas that Mascall and other Thomists
derive from him. Our concern will be only to formulate these ideas as
clearly as possible in a brief compass and to evaluate the adequacy of
the evidence to which appeal is made for the conclusions that are drawn
from it.
It is
sometimes supposed that natural theology intends to embody only those
ideas upon which all reasonable men in fact agree. Since today there
are no ideas of religious importance upon which such agreement can be
claimed, there clearly could be no natural theology in this sense.
Since this is self-evident, we may assume that the practitioners of
natural theology do not claim universal acceptance for their views. On
the other hand, if they affirmed only that their natural theologies
constitute one among a plurality of equally rational systems of thought,
they would be left with a relativism that would be alien to the concept
of natural theology.
Mascall
is fully aware of this difficulty, but he does not think that it
destroys the case for natural theology in its traditional Christian
form. The argument is not that all men capable of rationality reach the
same conclusions but that those who are willing to be attentive to the
right data and open to the correct interpretation can be led to see that
certain conclusions follow necessarily. (Ibid., p. 75)
The obstacles to the acceptance of traditional natural theology are
indifference, habit, prejudice, blindness, and laziness. (Ibid.,
p. 90.) Our whole urban way of life with its artificiality and emphasis
on distractions militates against the kind of concern, sensitivity, and
patience that is required for natural theology. Hence, it is not
surprising that the arguments of natural theology seem strange and
irrelevant to many moderns. But it is clear also that this
understandable response does not imply the falsity or in-adequacy of the
doctrines themselves. (He Who Is, pp. 80-81.)
The
foregoing might seem to suggest that natural theology could be found
adequately developed among pre-Christian thinkers who devoted themselves
with requisite patience and concern to the discovery of ultimate truth.
But history shows us that this is not the case. Does this not
invalidate the claim of natural theology to be the reasoned knowledge of
God that is systematically independent of revelation?
Again
Mascall is fully aware of the problem. Indeed, he places considerable
emphasis upon the difference between the philosophy of the Greeks and
the natural theology of the Scholastics. (Existence and Analogy,
pp. 1-10, 15-17.) He recognizes the role of revelation in
making possible the achievement of this natural theology. He does not
claim, therefore, that natural theology was factually possible apart
from revelation. (Ibid., p. 11.) He does claim that the
ideas and arguments developed in Christian natural theology are
intelligible to those who do not accept the claims of revelation and
that if they are sufficiently open and interested they can be led to see
the decisive cogency of the reason that is employed. Presumably one
might compare the situation with that which occurs with respect to a new
discovery in mathematics. It is not factually the case that reasonable
men acknowledged this truth prior to the time of its discovery. It is
not factually the case that all reasonable men acknowledge it after its
discovery. Nevertheless, what has been discovered is in principle
rational, and those who have sufficient patience and interest can be
shown that this is so.
In this
way Mascall clears away the most obvious objections to natural theology
as such. The factual relativism and historical conditionedness of every
systematic position, he argues, do not imply the systematic relativism
of every position. The systematic claims of a philosophical argument
must be taken at face value and judged on the basis of rational
examination. If this is done, Mascall believes, the traditional
Christian natural theology that is given classical expression by Thomas
Aquinas can be shown to be true.
In our
time, the objections to natural theology have come not only from
philosophers but also from theologians. These have argued that our
attempts to gain an understanding of God by reason is a betrayal of the
God who has revealed himself to us. The God of reason is an idol of the
mind and not the living God of revelation. Faith is not faith unless it
is a leap beyond all reason and all calculations of probability. (He
Who Is p.76.)
Once
again Mascall is quite aware of this attack by Protestant theologians
upon the enterprise that he advocates. He agrees that there is a real
difference between the philosophic apprehension of God and the
understanding of God given in revelation and worship, and that the
former is poor and barren beside the latter. (Ibid., p. 81)
But he is quite sure that the God who is apprehended in these two
different ways is the same God. We cannot meaningfully affirm that
Christ is the incarnation or revelation of God unless we can explain
what we mean by God (Ibid., p.2.), and although the most valuable
part of our knowledge of God comes from the revelation in Jesus Christ,
that part which reason provides is a necessary basis on which the rest
can be built. (Ibid., p.24.) The value of faith stems
not from the irrationality of its object but from the humility that is
required to see the truth which is accepted, and the courage required to
act upon it. (Ibid., p.77.)
Of
course, it is not necessary for each individual to study natural
theology before he is prepared to accept revelation. Those who grow up
in the Christian church normally follow no such order. But we must be
concerned also for those whose thought is not formed in a Christian
environment and who quite reasonably ask what faith is all about. To
them we must be prepared to explain what we mean by God and to show that
he exists, in order that they may be prepared to consider seriously the
claim that he is revealed in Jesus Christ. (Ibid., p.26-27.)
What
has just been said indicates that special revelation cannot constitute
the sole basis of our knowledge of God. Unless our total understanding
includes belief in something that can reveal itself, we cannot apprehend
any occurrence as a revelation. Revelation reveals more about that which
is already known to be. Faith cannot dispense with this prior knowledge.
For
this reason there are only two real alternatives to natural theology as
a basis for Christian faith and theology. One might affirm that the
required general knowledge of God is given in religious experience, that
is, in direct consciousness of him. (Ibid., p.16.) One
might also affirm that God’s existence is strictly self-evident, so that
no reasoning is required to arrive at this knowledge. (Ibid.,
p.30.) Mascall considers both these alternatives to show their
inadequacies.
Many
Protestants reject the view that God is known by argument or inference
in favor of the view that he is immediately experienced. Apart from
such experience, they suppose, argument is unconvincing. With this
experience, argument is unnecessary.
Mascall
does not deny that there is such a thing as authentic, immediate
experience of God, but he does deny that this is the normal or general
basis for believing in God. By far the larger part of the experiences
to which men appeal can be explained from a psychological viewpoint
without recourse to the hypothesis of God’s reality. (Ibid., p.
17ff.) Only the greatest mystics have attained that purer
experience which radically transcends these natural categories. Even
with respect to them, we must acknowledge a diversity of interpretation
as to the immediateness of their awareness of God in himself,
Ibid.,
p.21. See also his discussion of mysticism in Words and Images: A
Study in Theological Discourse, pp. 42-45.
and
these interpretations will depend in part upon some other knowledge of
God than that given in the experience itself. Mascall, therefore, does
not disparage religious experience, but he emphatically insists that it
cannot become a substitute for natural theology. (He Who Is,
p.29.)
Some
who acknowledge the inadequacy of both revelation and religious
experience as bases for belief in God affirm that God’s existence is
self-evident. The classical formulation of this position is the
ontological argument of Anselm of Canterbury. According to Anselm, the
concept of God implies his existence. This is because the concept of
God is the concept of that than which nothing greater can be thought,
and lack of existence would contradict this concept.
Ibid.,
p.31.
For further discussion of essence and existence, see Gilson, The
Christian Philosophy of St. Thomas Aquinas, pp. 29-45.
Mascall
agrees that in the sphere of being, the essence of God is unique in that
it includes his existence. Thus Anselm’s argument may be accepted as
showing that if God exists, his existence is necessary. But the fact
that God’s essence includes his existence does not imply that our
concept of God implies his existence. Our concept of God’s essence only
proves that we cannot form a concept of God that does not include the
idea of his existence. But the idea of God’s existence is not the same
as his actual existence. (Mascall, He Who Is, p. 34.)
Having
cleared away the objections to the enterprise of natural theology and
having shown that we cannot regard its conclusions as self-evident, we
must turn to the enterprise itself. Its heart and core consists in
displaying the rational necessity of acknowledging the existence of God
and the implications that are given in this argument with respect to
God’s nature.
Thomas
Aquinas developed five arguments for the existence of God. The first
argument, and that upon which he relied most heavily, is the familiar
argument from motion or change. Change is understood in Aristotelian
terms as the actualization of a potentiality. This actualization
requires an explanation in terms of a cause that cannot lie either in
the potentiality as such or in that which is actualized. Hence, change
points to a cause beyond that which changes. This cause may be some
other changing entity, but we cannot conceive of this succession of
causes as infinite. Hence, a cause must be acknowledged that causes
change without itself changing. This cause is God. (Ibid., pp.
40-45.)
The
second argument is that not only change but the being or preservation of
entities requires causal explanation. Once again the being of one
entity may be explained by the act of another, but an infinite series
cannot be admitted. Hence, a first cause of being must be affirmed. (Ibid.,
pp. 45-46.)
The
third argument is based on the categories of contingency and necessity.
The fact that the entities we encounter around us are subject to
generation and decay indicates that they are contingent, that is, that
they are capable of not being. But if there had ever been a time when
nothing existed, then nothing could ever have come to exist. Hence, it
is necessary that there be something that is not contingent, therefore,
necessary. This necessary being either has its necessity in itself or
receives it from another necessary being. To avoid an infinite regress
we must affirm a being that is the cause of its own necessity. (Ibid.,
pp. 46-49.)
The
fourth argument is from the degrees of excellence perceptible in things.
These degrees of excellence can be understood only as degrees of
approximation to an absolute norm by which they are judged. One thing
is better than another if it more nearly approaches that which is
ideally good in itself. Hence, the presence of degrees of excellence in
things demands as its cause that which is perfect in itself, namely,
God. (Ibid., pp. 52-54.)
The
fifth and final argument is that from purpose. Just as every entity
requires an explanation of its being in terms of an efficient cause of
being (the second argument), so also it requires an explanation in terms
of final cause or purpose. In this case also, the final cause, the goal
at which all purposes aim, is God. (Ibid., 54-56.)
All
five arguments depend for their force upon the idea of causality. Mascall
recognizes that this idea has been banished from modern physics,
although it seems to continue to play a role in such sciences as biology
and psychology. Even if it were wholly removed from science, however,
this would not affect the force of the arguments. Causality as treated
in these arguments is a purely metaphysical idea that is not dependent
for its validity upon its relevance in the special sciences. (Ibid.,
p. 45.)
It will
be clear to even the casual reader, however, that the formulations above
are vulnerable to many other objections. This is due partly to their
very brief and vague formulation here, but even in the more adequate
statements of Thomas and in Mascall’s account of Thomas’ arguments, they
remain vulnerable. Mascall, like most contemporary Thomists, fully
recognizes that these arguments require extensive elaboration if they
are to be rendered defensible in our day. This elaboration consists in
the end in presenting the five arguments as five aspects of a single
argument that Thomists find implicit but unclearly expressed in all of
them. (Ibid., p.40; Existence and Analogy, p. 79.)
It is this single fundamental argument rather than the
explanations of the five arguments in its terms that is important to us
in understanding contemporary Thomist natural theology.
This
one argument can be formulated very simply.
Formulations are found in He Who is, pp. 37-39, 65, 95;
Existence and Analogy, pp. 68-69,85, 89-90.
Every
entity that we encounter in the world is finite. This finitude consists
among other things in a lack of the power to cause or sustain its own
being. Thus the cause of the being of all things lies outside of them.
That which can give being to everything that is cannot be understood as
one finite entity among others, or as merely the first in a long series
of causal agents. Since Thomas did not believe that the denial of the
eternity of the world could be established by reason, his argument to a
first cause should not be construed as an argument for a first member of
a temporal sequence. (Existence and Analogy, pp. 72-76.) The
first cause must belong to an entirely different order of reality.
Furthermore, it must differ from all finite entities in having the
ground or power of its being in itself, for otherwise we would have to
posit an infinite regression of beings deriving their being from other
beings.
From
this perspective we can see clearly what is valid in Thomas’ arguments.
Each of them points to some aspect of finitude and insufficiency on the
part of the entities in our world, on the basis of which we are driven
to recognize a self-sufficient cause of a wholly different order. The
first argument points to the lack of self-sufficiency of change; the
second, to that of endurance in being. The third shows that the
totality of finite beings must still remain contingent and hence
dependent for its being on that which possesses being in itself and by
necessity. The fourth and fifth show that the perfections and purposes
of finite things share in their finitude and lack of self-sufficiency.
They
are all so many expressions of the fact that when our eyes are opened to
the finitude, insufficiency, or contingency of ourselves and the
environing entities, we perceive every aspect of these entities as
pointing directly to a supernatural cause. (Ibid., pp. 71, 78.)
This does not deny that there is also a natural order of causation, but
the fullest explanation in natural terms does not in any way affect the
need for understanding the whole network of natural causes as wholly
dependent for its being and preservation upon a supernatural cause. The
whole network of natural causes, even if it is supposed to have no
temporal beginning or ending, remains radically finite, insufficient,
and contingent.
Once we
see clearly the fundamental conception underlying Thomas’ sometimes
unclear formulations, we can also see the fundamental requirement for
the acceptance of the argument. It is the simple recognition that there
are finite entities and subsequent reflection on what this means. (Who
He Is, p. 73.) Philosophically this may be stated as the fact that
the essence of finite entities does not imply their existence. (Existence
and Analogy, pp. 68-69.) But many ordinary people recognize
all this immediately, and while knowing nothing of the philosophical
concepts in which it is expressed, live by the knowledge of God which
they have. (Who He Is, p. 137.) On the other hand, many
sophisticated intellectuals are prevented by their theories from
recognizing the simple fact that there are finite entities.
Mascall
sees that if he is to establish his case for natural theology in the
context of modern philosophy, he must refute those epistemological views
that lead to the denial of the existence of finite entities.
He does
this most systematically in Via Media, Ch. 1.)
In this
sense, like all Thomists, he defends existentialism. (E.g., Existence
and Analogy, Ch.3) He sees also that in our own day many
find that human existence, rather than the existence of things objective
to man, is the natural starting point, and he has no serious objection
to this. So long as the existence of any finite entity is acknowledged,
the basic argument follows from its insufficiency to a self-sufficient
existent. (Ibid., pp. 167-169)
Nevertheless, Mascall’s own procedure is to argue first for the
existence of objective finite entities. Their existence is obscured by
essentialism because the radical uniqueness of existence is not
recognized. Against essentialists, therefore, the task is simply to call
attention to the difference between essence and existence. In our day
the more acute threat comes from those persons who deny objectivity to
essences as well as to individual existents. (He Who Is, p. 83)
Their position must be understood and refuted.
If we
take the primitive givens of experience as sense data, we seem to be
forced to recognize that from their givenness we cannot infer the
existence of any entity whatsoever. The argument that these qualities
must inhere in an underlying substance can be disposed of by the simple
fact that if all our ideas or concepts arise in sense experience, we can
have no idea or concept of substance. Hence, it would be absolutely
meaningless to affirm a substance even if evidence could be adduced.
All that can be spoken or thought of is an endless flow of qualities.
All distinction of subject and object and all discrimination of
discrete entities evaporates into the one ongoing process. The
organization of sense data into objects is the creative and distorting
act of mind. (Ibid., pp. 83-84.)
The
Thomistic objection to this philosophic development must not be confused
with that of idealism. There is no tendency to assign a prior
ontological status to either finite minds or to impersonal reason. The
primacy of experience as the normal starting point for all knowledge is
fully recognized, but the Thomist insists that along with sense
experience man has the equally primary faculty of judgment, whose object
is the existence of the entities that are sensuously apprehended. We do
not in fact know only patches of brown and green. We know existent
entities that are of definite shape and color. This knowledge is a work
of the mind that can never occur apart from sense experience but that is
not limited to the mere reception of that experience. (Ibid., p.
65; Existence and Analogy, pp. 53-57; Words and Images,
pp. 30ff., 63.) The mind may, of course, be in error in its
judgments, but this does not mean that it is always or usually in error
in attributing existence to things. (He Who Is, pp. 84-85.)
It must
be stressed that we do not first recognize finite existents when we have
understood the epistemological theory that explains how we recognize
them as such. The theory is a description of a fact of common
experience. The fact and not the theory is the basis for the natural
knowledge of God. The theory is needed only to refute those who suppose
that common experience must be illusory because it cannot be explained
philosophically.
Thus
far we have considered only the basis on which the existence of God is
rationally affirmed. It is constituted essentially by the immediate
implication of the awareness of the world as it is in its finite
existence. We must ask next what it is that is implied in this
argument.
First
of all, and most essentially, we know that God possesses precisely those
characteristics the absence of which in finite things causes us to
perceive that God is their cause. That is, God is self-existent,
infinite, self-sufficient, and necessary. (Ibid., p. 96.) This is
clear to anyone who considers what is involved in finitude, since to
attribute finitude to what one called God would simply postpone the real
question of God. We can also say that God is the cause of all that is
finite as well as the cause of his own being, for it is just as the
self-causing cause of all things that we have come to know his
existence. Furthermore, God is changeless, for we have seen that
whatever changes must be subject to a source of change and that
ultimately this must be a source of change that does not itself change.
At this
point, however, we confront an acute problem. It seems that if we are to
speak of God as cause of the world we must mean something more by the
term “God” than that he is cause. Hume showed that if all we affirm is
that an absolutely mysterious X is responsible for all that is,
agnostics will have little reason to object. Certainly as Christians we
must affirm much more of God than this purely causal relation to the
world. But every term or concept that we employ has arisen and received
its meaning in our relations with finite things. Since we know that God
is not finite, else he would not be God, how can we apply to him ideas
that belong properly only to the finite sphere? (Existence and
Analogy, pp. 86-87, 92-93,96.)
One
answer is that we cannot apply any terms to God except by way of
negation. According to this view we cannot know what God is; we can
only know what God is not. But this position does not escape the
objection of Hume and is entirely inadequate in relation to the
Christian revelation of God as living and loving and acting in history.
If we
are to speak affirmatively about God, as we must, we seem to have two
choices. (Ibid., p.97.) On the one hand, we could assert that the
meaning of terms as applied to the finite and to God is univocal. This
would mean that God’s life and love are in specifiable respects
identical with finite life and love. But to assert this would
necessarily imply that in some respect God is finite, contingent, and
lacking in self-sufficiency. This, in turn, would run counter to the
whole basis of constructing the natural theology.
On the
other hand, we could state that terms as applied to God are purely
equivocal. This would imply that no aspect of their meaning in one
context could be carried over to the other. Since the meaning of life
and love as we use these terms is necessarily derived from the finite
sphere, we would be forced to acknowledge that our use of these terms
with respect to God could only be ejaculatory—in no way cognitive. We
would be left claiming the existence of that about which nothing
whatsoever could be said or thought.
Either
of these alternatives would leave us in the impossible position of
abandoning or contradicting the foundations of the argument to which it
is supposed to give expression. The only possibility of maintaining the
general Thomist position is to develop a third way between the univocal
and the equivocal. This third way is formulated in the doctrine of
analogy to which Mascall devotes considerable attention. (Ibid.,
pp. 98ff.)
Mascall’s careful analysis does not persuade him that a clear and
convincing doctrine of analogy can be formulated that is free from
mystery and logical difficulties. (Ibid., pp. 116, 121.)
On the contrary, he appeals to a kind of intuition of general
intelligibility rather than claiming a logically unexceptionable
statement. This would be a serious weakness in Mascall’s total position
except for the fact that he does not believe that the reality of
intelligible analogical discourse depends upon its adequate explanation.
The
case here is parallel to that with respect to our knowledge of finite
existents as such. This knowledge occurs first, and our account of how
it occurs follows. One need not have an impregnable doctrine of how it
occurs to see that it does occur. Similarly, it is clear to Mascall that
Christians do talk meaningfully about God without applying terms to him
univocally. Hence, analogical discourse about God does occur. The task
of the philosopher is not to prove this fact, but only to describe and
explain it as far as possible. It is only when we know that infinite
being exists and that we can think meaningfully about it that we
approach the problem of analogy properly. (Ibid., pp.94, 121;
Words and Images, 103.)
Mascall
shows, then, that discourse about God employs two kinds of analogies in
close interconnection: the analogy of attribution and the analogy of
proportionality. (Existence and Analogy p. 101.) The
analogy of attribution is that of attributing to God as cause whatever
perfection is found in the world as effect. But taken in itself this
tells us nothing about God except that he is cause of this effect, that
is, in Scholastic terminology it tells us nothing formally about God. (Ibid.,
p.102.) Hence, we need to supplement this with the analogy of
proportionality, which asserts that the relation of such perfections of
God as life and love to God’s existence resembles the relation of finite
perfections to the finite existents that participate in them. In this
way we do speak formally of God, but we must recognize that the
resemblance between the two pairs of terms is by no means one of
equality. We cannot say that God’s life or goodness is related to his
existence just as our life or goodness is related to our existence, for
his life and goodness are his existence. (Ibid., pp.
103-112.) This means that by itself the analogy of proportionality
provides us with no knowledge about God and is compatible with
agnosticism. (Ibid., p. 113.) Mascall believes, however, that
when this analogy is held in closest relation to the analogy of
attribution, we are enabled to speak of God both meaningfully and
formally.
The
real conclusion of this crucial discussion of analogy is that at the
level of concept we have no real alternative to the univocal and
equivocal modes of discourse, but that our thought about God consists in
judgments about existence rather than concepts. Since God is He Who Is,
that is, pure being, every attribute of God is only a way of speaking of
his one act of existing. With respect to God, unlike all other beings,
we can have no knowledge of essence apart from existence. (Ibid.,
pp. 88, 117-120.)
In
terms of his natural theology, Mascall does not hesitate to deal with
one of the most controversial of traditional doctrines about God, namely
the doctrine that God is impassible. Mascall notes that in our century
many theologians have surrendered this doctrine, and he recognizes that
there is an apparent difficulty in reconciling it with God’s love. (Ibid.,
pp. 134-135.) Nevertheless, Mascall argues that the doctrine follows
from the basic position and that it is also religiously important.
Those
who have abandoned the doctrine of the impassibility of God have
generally been those who have lost the sense of the divine
transcendence. (Ibid., pp. 135-137.) Once we think of God
essentially in the immanent order, we cannot think of him as free from
the change and suffering of that order. But then we have lost sight of
the Biblical God, He Who Is, the author of all being.
This is
not to say, however, that a problem does not exist for those who do
understand the divine transcendence. (Ibid., p.135.) They, too,
are concerned to affirm God’s compassion for his creatures as an
essential part of the Christian message. But compassion does seem to
imply that the one who feels it is affected by the fortunes of the one
for whom it is felt. If so, then God’s impassibility is incompatible
with his love.
Mascall’s solution is highly interesting. God does know and love the
world as well as himself. If we conceived of God and the world as two
entities that could be added together to make a whole larger than either
one, then it would follow that God’s love for the world implied
passibility in God. But this addition is illegitimate. God and the
world are not commensurate entities in this sense, since God is infinite
and the world finite. Hence God’s real knowledge and love of the world
neither add nor subtract from his being in himself. In his own being he
enjoys perfect beatitude. His knowledge and love of the world do not
affect this beatitude. (Ibid., p.141. Cf. also pp. 132-133.)
Clearly
this means that God’s knowledge and love are quite different from that
which is operative in the finite sphere. But just this is what we must
expect. We have already seen that we do not attribute such qualities to
God univocally but analogically. We have seen also that they are
thereby understood as ways of talking about the one wholly mysterious
act of existing by which God eternally constitutes himself. Hence, the
proper analogical predication of love and knowledge to God does not
contradict his impassibility as would be the case if predication were
univocal.
Mascall
is aware that this subtle philosophical argument will leave the plain
man unsatisfied. If God’s compassion for him does not affect God, he
cannot take much satisfaction from that compassion. But Mascall thinks
that what men really need is not sympathy in the sense of feelings but
help of a practical kind. God’s compassion expresses itself as the gift
of all good things to his creatures. (Ibid., p. 142.)
Furthermore, what is religiously important to us is not that we believe
that God is involved in our problems and suffering. It is far better to
know that there is one who is altogether free from and victorious over
all evil and who offers to us the ultimate privilege of sharing with him
in his blessedness. (Ibid., p. 143.) Since it is in
this context that we are primarily to understand the work of Christ,
this will provide a suitable point for transition from a discussion of
God and creation primarily based upon natural theology to a very brief
statement about Christ and salvation primarily based upon revelation.
It has
already been made clear that this transition is not a sharp one. Mascall,
like Thomas, moves back and forth in his discussion between natural and
revealed theology. He is much clearer than is Thomas that the actual
practice of natural theology depends historically upon revelation. (Via
Media, p. 1.) Indeed, only as nature is healed by grace can reason
function properly. (Christ, the Christian and the Church, p.
233.) Furthermore, many of the discussions in which philosophy plays the
primary role consist in developing distinctions or new concepts that
make possible the intelligent affirmation of doctrines that are believed
strictly on the grounds of revelation. Hence, natural and revealed
theology are quite inseparable. Nevertheless, Mascall insists that a
systematic difference between natural theology and revealed theology
exists and has great importance. (Ibid., pp. 234 ff.)
Natural
theology is that part of our religious thinking which does not appeal
for its warrant to revelation, unless we speak of nature itself as
general revelation. It consists entirely in the rational reflection
upon the universal nature of finite things and the implication of this
nature for our thought about God. By contrast, revealed theology takes
as its starting point the whole richness of the existing faith of the
church. Its task is to make explicit the revelation that is committed
to the church. (Ibid., p.241.)
The
task of the theologian can be fulfilled only to the degree that he
participates actually in the life of the church. (Ibid., p. 239)
Theology does not consist of the describing of beliefs held about God by
a designated group of persons but of the affirming about God and
creatures in their relation to God of that which it has been given to
the church to know. (Ibid., pp. 228-229.) For this purpose
Scripture and its ecclesiastical interpretation in their indissoluble
unity are both necessary. (Ibid., p. 242.)
The
revelation consists first and foremost in the person of Jesus Christ
himself, but this can become material for theological use only as it is
given in human language. This is done in the words of Jesus and in the
Bible. But the Bible does not itself provide us with systematic
theological formulations. It is rather like a mine from which the
greatest variety of materials can be quarried. Therefore, inspiration
is needed for its correct interpretation just as for its writing. This
inspiration occurs not through individuals but through the whole church,
through whose total life and particular decisions dogma are formulated.
The theologian works with these dogma that are taken as inspired
interpretations of the inspired Scripture. (Ibid., pp. 230-232.)
Clearly, this account of the method by which the theologian works has
substantive presuppositions as to the content of theology. For example,
if one understood by the church simply the historically given
communities with their multiplicity of beliefs and practices, the view
of theology as the articulation of the church’s faith would lead to a
plurality of theologies that could hardly escape the recognition of
their relativity with respect to historical factors. Mascall, on the
contrary, assumes that theology is concerned only with the truth itself
and that the received dogma embodies that truth. This presupposes an
understanding of the church as a supernatural community in which truth
is authenticated. In concluding this exposition of Mascall’s
theological position, therefore, we will survey the history of God’s
acts for man as these in turn explain the situation of the theologian.
Mascall
believes, first, that although the body of man may have evolved, the
immortal soul of man was directly created by God and conjoined to his
body at some point in the evolutionary ascent. (E. L. Mascall, The
Importance of Being Human: Some Aspects of the Christian Doctrine of Man,
p. 14.) The first union of human soul and body was in Adam. (Christ,
the Christian and the Church, p. 150.) Adam’s sin against God lost
for himself and for his descendants the union with God that had been
granted to him (Ibid., pp.139-140) and that profoundly affected
their human nature as well. (Ibid., p. 233.) The
temptation that led to this sin as well as to the other evil in the
created order is to be explained by the previous rebellion of angels. (The
Importance of Being Human, pp. 77-83.)
Although the very great seriousness of the consequences of the Fall of
man is not to be denied, we must not go to the extreme of supposing that
all capacities for good were lost. Even fallen man is the suitable
object of God’s supernatural grace, a grace that has operated even apart
from any knowledge of God’s new act of creation in Christ. (Christ,
the Christian and the Church, p. 150.) This act, however,
by which God created a new manhood out of the material of fallen
humanity, is his supreme work. (Ibid., p. 73.)
In
Christ, God himself took the form of flesh. This act is supremely
mysterious, but Mascall shows that considerable clarity can be attained
in its exposition. He affirms that the personal subject is the second
person of the Trinity, who unites to his divine nature an impersonal and
unfallen human nature consisting of both body and soul. (Ibid.,
pp. 2ff.) The union is to be understood as the taking up of human nature
into the divine rather than of the lowering of the divine nature to the
conditions of the human. (Ibid., p. 48.) Hence, we are not to
think of the divine nature as abandoning its divine powers and knowledge
in the incarnation. Rather we are to think of Jesus’ human nature as
informed and transformed by its union with this divine nature without in
any way ceasing to be human. (Ibid., pp. 53-56.)
By this
act of recreating human nature, God mysteriously created the new
possibility of individual man’s divinization through incorporation into
that glorified nature. (Ibid., p. 78.) This
incorporation occurs through baptism and continues through the process
of sanctification. (Ibid., pp. 83-84.) The church is
the continuing body of which Christ is the head. (Ibid., p.
109ff.) Through participation in Christ’s body we participate in his
union with God. (Ibid., p. 211.) The Eucharist is
primarily the cause and secondarily the expression of the unity in the
church and with God. (Ibid., p. 193.)
At this
juncture we turn from a primarily expository to a primarily critical
presentation of Mascall’s position. This criticism has considerable
importance in view of the fact that, on the one hand, Thomism has had a
long and impressive history, maintaining its intellectual authority over
a large portion of responsible Christian thought and, on the other hand,
it is radically rejected by most Protestant theologians, including all
those treated in the following chapters. If we are to understand why
Protestant thinkers today accept the peculiar difficulties that confront
them when they reject the kind of natural theology that Thomism
represents, we must understand the systematic difficulties that Thomism
itself encounters.
In the
first place, we must return to the peculiar situation in which Mascall
finds himself in claiming rational necessity for a position that most
rational people reject. He explains this situation by showing that a
certain habit of mind is required in order that the data of natural
theology be allowed to present themselves to the viewer. Once these
data are presented, the argument follows by necessity. (Existence and
Analogy, p. xi; He Who Is, p. 75.) Does this account provide
the escape from the relativism of philosophic positions that is
essential for Thomistic natural theology?
It
seems to me that it does not, or rather, that an additional and doubtful
assumption is required for it to do so. If we first assume that the
perception of things as finite existents is the natural perception for
man, then we may assert with Mascall that what inhibits this vision
blinds us to what is as it is. Then we may argue with him that the
philosophy that follows from this vision is the one true philosophy. But
according to Mascall’s own account, few if any thinkers had understood
their experience in this way prior to the time of the great Scholastics,
and they did so under the influence of Hebraic modes of thought. Can we
say that what we learned to see only under the influence of revelation
is in fact the one natural way of seeing things?
It
might be argued that the failure of thinkers to accept the data as they
really are has been due to special factors such as their preoccupation
with forms or essences and that common people have always viewed things
as finite existents. But again, by Mascall’s own account, such a vision
apart from philosophic sophistication leads to a fundamental
understanding of God that was absent apart from the special historical
influence of revelation. Hence, the absence of the Christian
understanding of God in pre-Christian religion indicates that the vision
of things as finite existents was virtually absent for common sense as
well as for philosophy until the impact of Biblical thought caused it to
prevail.
The
point of the foregoing is that the distinction which is made by Mascall
between the historic and the systematic dependence of natural theology
on revelation has an even smaller relevance than he seems to suppose.
The distinction would be important if the vision of things as finite
existents were in fact universal but had been brought to clear
consciousness only by revelation. But if in fact in the common vision
of reality apart from revelation this element has been subordinate to
other elements or entirely lacking, then we must acknowledge that
revelation creates the data on the basis of which natural theology
reasons. These data may be created for some who do not acknowledge the
revelation as authoritative, and for this reason natural theology may
have a wider basis of acceptance than revealed theology. But we must
recognize that natural theology receives a basis on which to operate
only as a gift from revelation.
This
criticism of Mascall does not have serious consequences for the content
of his position. Although he tends at times to obscure the dependence of
natural theology upon revelation, he is not unaware of it, and his
arguments do not depend on the occasional oversight. However, the
relation between theology and philosophy is markedly altered once we
fully recognize that the starting point of philosophy, that is, the
fundamental vision with which the thinker begins, is historically
conditioned and that Christian faith has played a major role in the
formation of the Western vision.
Systematically, it seems that a fundamental decision must be made. If
the data of philosophical reason are natural, that is, if they are given
for human experience independently of historical conditions, then
natural theology as commonly understood becomes a major possibility.
If, however, the data for human experience are historically
conditioned, and if the Christian arguments from philosophy presuppose
distinctively Christian data, then it seems less misleading to call the
philosophy in question Christian philosophy rather than natural
theology. In this case, we seem led to the Augustinian view, in which
reason plays its role in interpreting and developing the starting point
given in faith.
Mascall’s actual position seems to fall between these two alternatives.
He sees that the vision of existence from which his natural theology
arises depends historically on Christian revelation, but he does not
think that it is simply a part of the truth that is given in revelation.
It remains a separate starting point for thought from that which God
has directly revealed in Jesus Christ. This starting point, although
historically formed, has a much wider acceptance than has special
revelation, being acceptable to many who consciously reject that
revelation. Hence, a clear distinction should be kept between natural
theology and revealed theology.
This
intermediate position appears eminently sensible. To continue to call
the philosophy conditioned by revelation simply natural theology may,
however, perpetuate a confusion that is manifest even in Mascall’s own
thought. I suggest that the term “Christian natural theology”
might be used.
There
are no clearly established distinctions between Christian philosophy,
Christian natural theology, and natural theology. I am using “natural
theology” to refer to conclusions of philosophical inquiry supportive of
some Christian teaching from data that are understood to be factually
and logically independent of Christian revelation. I am suggesting here
that when the data are recognized as historically dependent on Christian
revelation, we should call the rational conclusions from these data
“Christian philosophy” or “Christian natural theology.” By Christian
philosophy I mean any attempt to build a comprehensive scheme of ideas
on the basis of distinctively Christian data. By Christian natural
theology I mean the attempt to justify certain Christian beliefs
rationally on the basis of data that, though historically conditioned by
Christian revelation, are widely held by persons who are not
self-consciously Christian. In these terms Christian philosophy and
Christian natural theology, though distinct, are intimately related and
fully compatible with each other.)
It
should then be recognized that as an apologetic device its sphere of
relevance is limited to those whose vision has been consciously or
unconsciously already modified by Christian faith. It cannot provide a
basis for justifying the Christian doctrine of God to one who stands
radically outside the Christian circle.
Emphasizing more consistently than Mascall the historical relativity and
conditionedness of the data upon which he builds his thought, let us
still acknowledge that for many of us such data are nonetheless very
real and important. Let us further acknowledge that, although this
vision has dimmed considerably from the Western mentality, much of it
remains latent in such a way that a vivid presentation of its importance
still has widespread effectiveness. We can then consider whether the
implications that a Thomist like Mascall draws from these data actually
follow with the necessity that he claims.
The
fundamental characteristic of finite entities on the basis of which the
whole system of thought is constructed is their contingency, which may
otherwise be expressed as the separability of existence from essence.
It is because there is nothing in the nature of the finite thing to
afford it existence that we must posit a source of being that does
contain its own ground of existence. That is, we recognize that there
must be some being whose essence does imply or contain its existence.
This being is then self-sufficient or necessary. Thus far, given the
original vision of finite existents as contingent, reason seems
necessarily to carry us. We cannot understand how there can be existent
things at all unless there is somewhere a being that is the cause both
of their existence and its own.
From
this, however, Mascall draws conclusions that seem to be in considerable
tension with the Biblical view of God. The Bible seems to present God
as one who is in loving interaction with his creatures in such a way
that he is affected by what happens to them. Mascall, loyal to the
Thomist natural theology, argues that God is strictly changeless and,
therefore, unmoved by our suffering. His love is pure act without
shadow of passivity. Thus he sets himself sharply against all those who
have stated that Jesus reveals God as suffering for and with man.
We must
ask here whether the conclusion that God cannot be affected by events
within his creation in fact follows from the fundamental argument from
contingent to necessary being. Mascall thinks that it does, and indeed
he seems to regard this as so evident as to require little explanation.
However, recent philosophers, especially Charles Hartshorne, have
proposed other interpretations of God that combine the doctrine of his
necessity with the view that he is capable of being affected by the
course of events.
See
especially Hartshorne’s Man’s Vision of God and Philosophers
Speak of God, pp. 499-514.
The
central issue is whether the necessity of God implies absolute
immutability. The argument for this implication seems to be that if God
is necessary being there can be nothing contingent about him. A being
that is partly necessary and partly contingent would seem to be in its
totality and wholeness not necessary, and hence, according to the
argument, not God. But if everything about God is necessary, then
nothing could ever have come to be in or for him; that is, he is
strictly immutable. Phrased in this way the argument seems quite
convincing.
However, the proper starting point as established by the original
argument from the contingent to the necessary is not “necessary being”
as such, but a being whose existence is necessary. This is all that the
argument warrants. There is then no contradiction in supposing that a
being whose existence is necessary may nevertheless alter in some
respects in the mode of that existence. That God is must be
necessary, hence altogether free from contingency or change; but what
God is, beyond the basic fact that he is the ground of his own
existence and of all other existents, may without any contradiction
contain contingent elements and, therefore, change.
The
Thomist objection to this suggestion is that it neglects the crucial
categories of essence and existence in terms of which the argument is
most rigorously formulated. The lack of self-sufficiency in finite
things consists in the separability of essence and existence. That is,
it is not of the essence of finite things to exist. In a necessary
being, in contrast, it must be of its essence to exist. Hence, in God
essence and existence are identical. If so, what God is can only
be his is-ness, and all contingency or change is strictly
excluded.
I do
not believe, however, that this form of the argument affects the
possibility of drawing different conclusions. In these terms it must
indeed be of the essence of God to exist, but this need not imply
the strict identity of essence and existence in God. The assertion that
it is of God’s essence to exist does not imply that nothing other
than existing can be of God’s essence. It does not exclude the
possibility that it is also of the essence of God to be affected by what
occurs in the experience of his creatures. This would imply again that
it is of God’s essence to include contingent elements.
The
upholders of the view that there are contingent elements in God are not
arguing that his behavior or character is vacillating and unpredictable.
Their major religious concern is to show that we may take seriously the
Biblical doctrine of God’s love for his creation without contradicting
the necessity of God’s being. If we mean anything at all by asserting
that God loves his creatures, we must surely mean that God is not
indifferent to the events in their lives. But if God cares, then to
some degree the total experience that is God is affected by contingent
events and is itself contingent.
A
second line of argument against the presence of any contingent element
in God stems from the doctrine that God is Being. This doctrine has two
foundations: the first, Biblical; the second, philosophical. The first
can be summarized as follows. At the one point in the Bible where God
reveals his name he affirms himself as He Who Is, thus as pure being or
existence. Therefore, the philosophical doctrine of God as Being is
demanded by revelation. However, Mascall himself recognizes that the
interpretation of the passage in question in these terms is highly
doubtful. He wishes to base the doctrine of God as pure Being upon the
teaching of the Bible as a whole. (Existence and Analogy, pp.
11-14.) But it is difficult to see that such implications of this
doctrine as that God is strictly impassible are admitted in the Bible.
If the doctrine itself is not explicit in the Bible, and if its
implications are not admitted in the Bible, it is hard to see how the
doctrine can be defended on the basis of Biblical revelation.
Mascall’s view is that philosophy demands that we maintain the
traditional view of the immutability and impassibility of God and that
this view is in full harmony with the basic witness of the Bible. I am
assuming that this view is in serious tension with the Bible and am
arguing that it is not logically required by the philosophical argument.
I would go further and say that there are positive philosophic reasons
for the alternative suggested, namely, that there are both necessary and
contingent elements in God. However, this would exceed the
proper scope of the present critique. All that is needed here is to
show that Mascall’s typical Thomist conclusions do not necessarily
follow from his starting point. It is my belief that a still wider
hearing could be secured for the starting point if it were clearly seen
that it did not entail these traditional consequences.
We are
now prepared to discuss Mascall’s doctrine of analogy. The discussion
will be somewhat more extensive than otherwise appropriate to this
context because this doctrine is crucial to other theological positions
as well as to that of Thomism. Among those treated in this volume we
find Bultmann explicitly appealing to it. Since he provides virtually
no explanation or justification of the doctrine, the present critique
will have to be regarded as applicable also to him. Tillich’s symbolic
use of terms also seems vulnerable to much the same criticism.
Mascall
acknowledges the limitations of his account of analogy, but the problem
seems to be even more acute than he recognizes in his defense. In his
presentation, the argument that God exists as self-existent cause of all
finite being is established first, and the problem of analogical
predication follows. In this situation, since God’s existence as cause
of things is known, the objection that nothing further can be said or
thought about God univocally might appear as a quibble. It does seem
that God must be known somehow from his effects. In this connection
Mascall appeals to the analogy of attribution as an essential part of
the explanation of how we can speak meaningfully about God.
But all
this seems to assume that it is already clear that the terms “cause” and
“existence” can be applied to God univocally, whereas I take it that
Mascall holds that they are themselves applicable only analogically. If
there is no univocal element in the assertion that God is cause of the
world, on what basis can one say that the perfection of the world is
even virtually (that is, as cause) present in God? This would seem
possible only if we understood what was meant by attributing cause to
God univocally, at least in so far as our idea of cause tells us that
the power of producing the effect must be in the cause. But this would
imply some element of univocal meaning in the application of the term
“cause” to God’s relation to the world. Apart from this, the whole
basis of the analogy of attribution would seem to be pure equivocation.
Similarly, the analogy of proportionality is formulated in terms of the
relation of God’s attributes to his existence. But if we cannot first
affirm his existence univocally, it is hard to see that there is any
escape here too from pure equivocation. In this situation the combining
of the two analogies cannot improve matters. Christian natural theology
as Mascall understands it would seem to be impossible.
The
fact is that although Mascall quite explicitly affirms the purely
analogical character of even causality and existence as applied to God,
(Existence and Analogy, p. 87.) he elsewhere seems to
assume that these terms are quite clear and definite in their
application to God. (Ibid p. 96.) Hence, we should
consider the possibility that causality and existence are affirmed
univocally of God. This would at least introduce the possibility of
approaching the doctrine of analogy without sheer bewilderment, but
before reconsidering the argument in these terms, we must first note
that the acknowledgment that some terms can be applied to God univocally
has very significant consequences.
In the
first place, if we may speak univocally of God as cause and existing,
there seems no reason to doubt that other metaphysical terms have
equally univocal application. The whole language of self-sufficiency,
necessity, simplicity, immutability, and infinity turns out to be quite
univocal.
If
Thomists acknowledge these terms to be literal, they must also
understand them as negations, since only negative statements about God
are literal. This does not affect the fact that whereas metaphysical
terms can be literal, Biblical terms are typically analogical.
It
appears in the end to be that the doctrine of analogy is required only
for the preservation of the Biblical language about God. One need not
be surprised if in the conflict between the apparent implications of
Biblical concepts, understood to be analogical, with metaphysical
concepts, understood to be univocal, it is the implications of the
Biblical concepts that give way.
In the
second place, this throws quite a different light upon the situation to
which Mascall appeals as the real warrant for a doctrine of analogy.
This situation, it will be recalled, is that there is in fact meaningful
discourse about God. This fact means that the task of the doctrine of
analogy is not to justify such discourse but simply to describe and
explain it. On this basis, Mascall can recognize the logical inadequacy
of his account and still insist that it is sufficient for its purposes.
But if
Mascall’s own assumptions explain that the meaningfulness of a good deal
of discourse about God can be understood in terms of the univocal use of
metaphysical concepts, then it is only the use of the apparently
incongruent religious language that requires special explanation. On
the two hypotheses that this language is meaningful and that his
philosophy is correct, the fact of analogical discourse, defined as
meaningful, nonunivocal discourse, follows. But this argument is
unusually weak in view of the fact that both hypotheses are doubtful,
and the conclusion may not be meaningful at all.
The
first hypothesis will be denied not only by positivists but also by
philosophers who take seriously the religious implications of a doctrine
of God as infinite, immutable, simple, and necessary. They will hold
that popular religion attempts to think about this God in terms that
actually do not apply at all.
Others,
such as Brunner, will agree that the tension between the two sets of
categories implies their strict incompatibility but will understand that
this means that the Biblical categories, based on revelation, must
altogether supersede the philosophic categories, based on corrupted
reason. Although this position does not deny Mascall’s first hypothesis
and does not philosophically dispute the second, it places them on such
different levels as to destroy their force.
The
second hypothesis can also be directly attacked philosophically. This
can be done from many points of view, but I have suggested above that
the crucial attack is that which accepts the same data and then shows
that the argument does not exclude the presence of contingent elements
in God’s total nature. Like all the other criticisms, this makes it
possible to avoid the doctrine of analogy. Hence, it is clear that the
meaningfulness of religious language can be accepted without entailing
any doctrine of analogy. Religious language, however much it may be
poetically elaborated, can be seen to have, at its base, affirmations
that, whether they are true or false, have univocal meaning.
This
may be illustrated briefly. Mascall affirms that the assertion that God
is living is neither univocal nor equivocal, but analogical. If
Mascall’s philosophic doctrine that God is absolutely immutable is
accepted, we must agree that we cannot assert life of God univocally.
As an alternative approach, we may take certain possible definitions of
life and ask whether or not they might apply univocally to God.
If we define life in terms of generation and decay, it is quite clear
that we must deny that God is characterized by life, since these
characteristics are incompatible with the necessity of his being. If,
however, we define life in terms of the capacity to respond selectively
to events, a conception of God that allows some contingent elements in
his experience will permit us to apply the term “life” to God
univocally. It may, of course, not be factually the case that God
responds selectively to events, but that he might do so quite literally
is not ruled out by our knowledge that God’s being is necessary.
Furthermore, if we quite univocally call God living in this way, this
does not imply that God’s life is in other respects like ours. Indeed,
we may be able quite univocally to show ways in which his life
necessarily differs from ours. Finally, a great deal about God must
surely remain wholly unknown to us. But nowhere are we forced to
introduce a kind of meaning that is neither univocal nor equivocal.
I have
not tried in these comments to prove in detail the ambiguity and
inadequacy of Mascall’s account of analogy. His own commendable clarity
and frankness cause him to display and acknowledge these limitations
himself. He poses the issue as that of explaining what he supposes
manifestly occurs, that is, meaningful but nonunivocal discourse about
God. He knows that he has not fully succeeded in explaining this
possibility. Hence, to say that he has not done so is not an argument
against him. Therefore, I have confined myself to showing that the
existence of meaningful discourse about God as a necessary being does
not imply that there is meaningful nonunivocal discourse. From this it
follows that there may well be no such thing as analogical discourse.
Thus
far the criticism of Mascall has been that his data are even more
radically conditioned than he has recognized and that they do not
necessarily lead to all the conclusions that he draws from them. The
alternative set of conclusions has the advantage of being in less
tension with the Bible and also of not requiring the confusing doctrine
of analogical discourse as a third way between the univocal and the
equivocal. We must now ask, granted that Mascall’s Thomist conclusions
do not follow necessarily from these data in all respects, whether they
constitute an intelligible and self-consistent position that does
account for the data.
In this
volume, I am not undertaking to criticize philosophical ideas
philosophically. I am not asking here whether Thomism as a philosophy
can survive systematic analysis and criticism. Indeed, I am assuming
that in general it can do so. Our question is, instead, whether the
theological affirmations made by the Thomist are intelligible within the
context of his philosophical doctrines.
I have
already indicated that I perceive a tension between the Thomist
doctrines and the thought patterns of the Bible. The point was made in
terms of the tension between God’s compassionate love and his
impassibility. However, there can be no question that the theological
doctrine of God’s impassibility is compatible with, and indeed demanded
by, the philosophical doctrine. We must now ask whether the Thomist is
willing to tailor all of his theological doctrines to fit the demands of
his philosophy. If so, we might deny that the total position is
Biblical, but we would also recognize its internal consistency.
A
crucial question concerns the understanding of God as personal. Thomism
certainly intends to make this affirmation. It speaks of God in terms
of intellect, will, and memory, and it attributes acts and purposes to
him. Does this make sense in the light of the doctrine that in God
there is no element of contingency or change?
Clearly, all of this language about God must be understood as analogical
discourse. What we humans know as intellect, will, memory, activity,
and purpose involves contingency and change. But even if we allowed the
possibility of analogical discourse, could we attribute even the vaguest
meaning to these terms when they are applied to infinite, necessary,
simple Being? Or, if the demand for intelligibility is illegitimate,
can we see any reason whatever for attributing the terms to God?
According to Mascall’s own account of the “life” of God it seems clear
that all these terms can be only so many ways of referring to the pure
act of existing that is God. In God’s own being, presumably, the
distinctions suggested by these terms have no place. But if all these
terms when applied to God refer ultimately to the one act that we can
more accurately call existing, I am unable to see how we can regard the
use of terms like these as analogical rather than simply equivocal.
Mascall’s argument, we have seen, is that in fact we do discuss
meaningfully about God in these terms without claiming that our use is
univocal. I argued above that it is quite possible that the meaningful
portion of our discussion about God does use terms univocally. I wish
to argue now that it seems likely that the appearance of meaningful
nonunivocal discourse about God is due to historical factors, and that
when these are understood, the appearance is destroyed.
I have
already indicated that I believe the data on which Thomist theology
bases its affirmation of God are derived historically from Christian
revelation. Hence, in an important sense the Thomist philosophical
doctrine of God is Christian. Nevertheless, its original formulation was
profoundly influenced also by Aristotelian philosophy and took over much
of what Aristotle had said about a self-sufficient prime mover. (Pre-Thomist
thought about God also involved a synthesis of Biblical and Greek
categories and, therefore, posed much the same problems.)
The
doctrines of God derived from this influence have stood through the
centuries in marked tension with Biblical personalism. Theological
discourse has been caught in this tension and has included assertions
that, when taken univocally, must be regarded as mutually contradictory.
The
ecclesiastical sanctioning of this way of thought has forced generations
of thinkers to expend great ingenuity on the acute rational problems
that are involved. They have certainly carried on meaningful discourse
with one another about the problems. Furthermore, the ordinary
Christians who acknowledge the situation as defined by the approved
theologians have found meaning within this context. In this situation
the doctrine of analogy, namely that meaningful language need not be
univocal, necessarily played a large role.
However, none of this proves that, in fact, meaningful discourse about
God takes place that does not use terms univocally. It would seem,
therefore, that we can understand historically why persons find
themselves talking in this context without supposing that they are
forced to do so by the nature of things or by their apprehension of God
as the cause of finite beings. Since this is so, and since no
satisfactory doctrine of analogy exists,
Perhaps
the most promising discussion is that of Austin Farrer, much of which is
summarized appreciatively by Mascall in Existence and Analogy, pp.
158-175; and Words and images, pp. 109-120.
we must
declare that the attribution to God by Thomists both of immutability and
of personal characteristics is an inconsistency. More specifically,
since it is the personal characteristics rather than the immutability
that are held to be analogical, we must declare that Thomists have not
yet shown us that, given their philosophical doctrine of God, the
attribution of personal characteristics to him is not pure equivocation.
This
point has been pressed not only for the systematic reason that it
appears to be a real weakness in the Thomist position but also because
much of modern Protestant thought can be understood only against the
background assumption that philosophical theology of the Thomist type
must necessarily lead to conclusions that diverge from the Biblical
understanding of God. Some have held that this must follow from the use
of any philosophy whatsoever. Others have identified this consequence
with the use of metaphysical, in contradistinction to cosmological,
philosophy. Still others accept the implication that God is not
properly understood as personal.
This
rather lengthy criticism of Mascall’s Christian natural theology,
however, is not intended to show the necessity of its radical rejection.
Quite the contrary, its purpose is to argue that the fundamental
Thomist vision of finite existence as pointing to its self-sufficient
cause is fully compatible with a doctrine of God that can embody the
real strengths of the Thomist position without entailing its religiously
and logically unsatisfactory conclusions. This has been shown in the
philosophical work of Charles Hartshorne.
In
conclusion, the same problem of the relation of Mascall’s philosophy and
Biblical thought should be stated in a distinctively Protestant way. I
have repeatedly affirmed that there appeared to be serious tensions
between the Biblical understanding of God and that which emerges in
Thomist natural theology. The Catholic basis for denying this tension
lies in the argument that Scripture must be read as interpreted in the
ecclesiastical tradition. If this principle is followed, it must be
granted that one will not find in the Bible the univocally personalistic
thinking about God that many Protestants suppose they see. That is to
say, the church has in fact interpreted the Bible since early times in
terms of some of those ideas about God which Thomism embodies in its
natural theology.
The
Protestant objection is that we can in fact gain a more objective view
of the Bible by direct study and can criticize the traditional
interpretation from this point of view. To this Mascall has replied
that the Bible can be used in favor of an indefinite number of
systematic positions and that it cannot be used fairly to support one
such position against others. Systematic theology must depend upon the
inspired interpretation of the Scripture. If it is to do more than
organize the private interpretation of one person, it must assume that
God’s Spirit has been at work in the whole church. The theologian must
take the Catholic tradition that has resulted from the guidance of the
Spirit as his authoritative guide.
We must
ask two questions of decisive importance. First, is it true that the
Bible is open to a virtually unlimited number of systematic
interpretations? The Reformers thought that its message was quite clear
and needed little or no interpretation, but the history of Protestantism
seems to support the Catholic claim. Nevertheless, the Protestant
cannot admit total relativity of interpretation. If one cannot say
definitively what the Biblical teaching is, one can at least
specify some things that it is not.
This
much a Catholic may also acknowledge. Hence, the real issue is the
second. Is the Catholic traditional interpretation of the Bible one of
those which can be known on the basis of our present study of the Bible
to be in serious error? If not, then the assertion that there are
important tensions between some of the approved philosophical doctrines
of Thomism and the Bible is unsubstantiated. If it is, then the
Reformers were right in demanding a choice between the Bible and
Catholic tradition, and we will be right today in reaffirming that
demand. An answer to this question can be approximated only by open and
scholarly investigation.