Proceedings of the British Academy,
1994, 84, 409-418.
Eric Lionel Mascall
1905-1993
H. P. Owen
Eric Mascall was born on 12 December
1905 and died, at the age of eighty-seven, on 14 February 1993. The
main items in his life and career are these. In his youth he showed in
mathematics the intellectual brilliance he was to show later in
theology. His education at Latymer Upper School was crowned by an open
scholarship to Pembroke College Cambridge where he became a wrangler.
After three unhappy years as a schoolmaster in Coventry he entered Ely
Theological College in 1931 and was ordained in the Church of England
two years later. He served in London parishes until his appointment as
Sub-Warden of Lincoln Theological College in 1937. In 1945 he was made
a student of Christ Church Oxford where he also became a University
Lecturer in the philosophy of religion. He remained there until his
election to the Chair of Historical Theology at King’s College London in
1962. After his retirement in 1973 he continued to live in the clergy
house of St. Mary’s Bourne Street where he was given the title of
Honorary Assistant Priest. He spent part of 1976 as a Visiting Professor
in the Gregorian University at Rome. He was awarded a DD by Oxford in
1948 and by Cambridge in 1958. He was elected a Fellow of the British
Academy in 1974. Among the named lectures he delivered were the Bampton
at Oxford and the Gifford in Edinburgh. He had been a member of the
Oratory of the Good Shepherd since 1938, and on his retirement he was
appointed Canon Theologian of Truro Cathedral. He travelled extensively
abroad (especially in the USA, Rome, and Romania) for the purpose of
meeting and addressing a variety of Anglican, Roman Catholic, and
Orthodox individuals and groups. He was an only child who never
married.
Although Mascall preached and
lectured con-stantly, it was for his written, rather than his spoken,
word that he was known. For over forty years he wrote prolifically on
both philosophical and doctrinal theology. Among his major books were
He Who Is (1943), Christ, the Christian and the Church
(1946), Existence and Analogy (1949), the Bampton Lectures
entitled Christian Theology and Natural Science (1956), Via
Media (1956), Words and Images (1957), The Recovery of
Unity (1958), the Gifford Lectures entitled The Openness of Being
(1971), and Theology and the Gospel of Christ (1977). Mention
must also be made of two books which were published in the sixties and
which attacked the radical theology then current—Up and Down in Adria
(a reply to the Cambridge Symposium Soundings) and The
Secularisation of Christianity (an examination of the writings of
Paul Van Buren and J. A. T. Robinson). Among the many articles that
Mascall contributed to journals, encyclopedias, and symposia as
important (and as typical) an example as any is the one on the eucharist
in the first edition of the S. C. M.’s A Dictionary of Christian
Theology (1969).
An assessment of Mascall’s
achievements as a writer (impressive though these were) is not
altogether easy. Unlike many other scholars and thinkers he is not
known for one work dealing exhaustively with one topic or group of
topics. His final claim to distinction rests on his reflections on many
divergent topics and (no less) his critiques of many divergent authors,
that are scattered throughout many works. He never brought all his
leading ideas together in one book. Again, although his writings have a
coherence and unity, they do not constitute a “system.” Finally, he did
not invent a new terminology or offer a new interpretation of Christian
beliefs.
Mascall’s achievements are,
essentially, these. First, there is the scope of his writings. He dealt
with all the main subjects and problems within the areas of both
philosophical and doctrinal theology: the nature of God, the concept of
creation, religious epistemology, the nature of religious language, the
Christian doctrines of the Incarnation, the Trinity, the Church, the
ministry, and the sacraments. Secondly, there is the range of his
learning. This was immense. It is doubtful if any of his contemporaries
was more widely read in both old and new works of both philosophical and
doctrinal theology from within all the main traditions of the
Church—Roman Catholic, Orthodox, and Reformed. Moreover, Mascall had a
wide knowledge of the natural sciences. This is exhibited by his
Bampton Lectures in which he maintained that Christian theism, so far
from conflicting with the natural sciences, provided them with their
best metaphysical justification. Thirdly, he consistently expounded and
defended both classical theism and traditional Christian doctrines.
Fourthly, he always showed a mastery of his material. He obviously
understood it thoroughly and assimilated it before he began to write.
Also he selected and commented on only those parts of it that were
relevant to his subject or argument. Fifthly, his style was
unpretentious, concise, and lucid. This entitled him to the severity
with which he censured pretentiousness, wordiness, and obscurity when he
found them in the writings of other theologians. Sixthly, there is the
balance of his thought. This is exhibited in various ways, but
especially in the relations he established between reason and
revelation, the natural and the supernatural, philosophy and theology.
The third and sixth of these
achievements call for comment. Thirdly, then, Mascall adhered to
classical theism of the type supremely exemplified by Aquinas. God,
according to such theism, is the infinite, self-existent, and immutable
creator of all things. Mascall was not in the least influenced by
(although he was fully conversant with) such alternatives to classical
theism as Hegelianism and process thought (although these have
influenced many other theologians in this century). Mascall adhered
also to traditional (specifically patristic) formulations of Christian
doctrines (above all those of the Trinity and the Incarnation).
Christianity, for him, consisted fundamentally in the fact that the
Creator, in the person of the Son, assumed our human nature for our
redemption.
Lastly, there is the balance of
Mascall’s thought. On the one hand he emphasised reason in the
following ways. He insisted on a logically ordered and terminologically
precise formulation of religious beliefs; he insisted too that these
beliefs be rationally defensible; and he assigned a place to rational
(or natural) theology. On the other hand he held that Christian
revelation enables us to know truths concerning God that unaided reason
is unable to discover. It follows that he brought together the natural
and the supernatural (or, to use another, closely akin contrast, nature
and grace). On the one hand he held that Christian revelation is
supernatural in so far as it provides us with a knowledge and a quality
of life that transcend those natural powers with which we are endowed by
creation. On the other hand he held (to use language characteristic of
the Thomist tradition which he found congenial and to which I shall
recur) that grace presupposes nature and perfects it. Lastly,
therefore, he maintained that on the one hand theology has its own
subject-matter constituted by a supernatural mode of revelation, but on
the other hand that philosophy is relevant to, not only natural
theology, but also the construction of Christian doctrines.
Three questions may be asked
concerning Mascall’s thought (as they can be asked concerning the
thought of other theologians).
1. Did Mascall belong to any one
“school” of Christian theology? He has often been called a Thomist or,
more narrowly, neo-Thomist. John Macquarrie, in his history of
twentieth-century religious thought, includes Mascall alongside Gilson,
Maritain and others in his section on neo-Thomism. Certainly Mascall
admired Thomas Aquinas, was widely read in him, and referred to him in
his writings. Yet I do not think he was, or considered himself to be, an
expert on Aquinas on a par with Gilson and other authorities on medieval
thought, although it would probably be correct to say that his knowledge
of Aquinas exceeded any possessed by any other Anglican theologian of
his generation. Again, although his early work He Who Is was
partly distinguished by the fact that in it he examined Aquinas’s
thought at a time when the latter was largely neglected in this country,
he tells us in his preface that he chose to call his book a study in
“traditional” theism because he did not wish to tie himself too closely
to Thomism. In fact He Who Is contains lengthy discussions of
modern thinkers. And although in his subsequent writings he sometimes
used scholastic terminology, he was on the whole more concerned with
expounding Christian beliefs in non-scholastic terms and in relation to
contemporary thought. Furthermore, he explicitly disagreed with those
scholastics who held that Aquinas’s Five Ways prove God’s existence with
logical certainty. He maintained that such a proof is unobtainable, and
that belief in God must therefore rest on an apprehension or intuition
of him in his created signs. On this point it is arguable that Mascall
is closer to the Augustinian than to the Thomist strain in Western
theology.
For the reasons I have given it is
doubtful whether Mascall can be validly called a Thomist, or at least
whether he can be so called without major qualifications. And he
certainly did not belong to any other school of thought. His concern
was not to represent any school or type of either philosophy or
theology, but to expound traditional Christian beliefs through such
terms (whether these were or were not scholastic ones) as he found most
suitable. Therefore, in placing him within twentieth-century thought we
should, first, consider him not as a Thomist, but as one who adhered to
the theism typified by Aquinas, and secondly contrast him with
philosophers and theologians who represented other types of thought. In
adhering to classical theism Mascall differed (as I have said) from
those Christian thinkers who have been influenced by other ways of
understanding God and his relation to the world. In affirming that
natural theology is possible and that there is an “analogy of being” (analogia
entis) between God and man, Mascall differed from Barth. In
affirming the objective, rational, and metaphysical nature of Christian
truth Mascall differed from many existentialists.
2. Was there change or development
in Mascall’s thought? There was development in the sense that he was
constantly expanding or re-expressing his thought in the light of fresh
reading and in the spirit of fides quaerens intellectum. Whether
there was also change is another question. I have suggested one change
in saying that scholastic modes of thought were less evident in his
later than in his earlier books. But this is a matter of terminology.
There was no change in the substance or content of his beliefs. The
chief point to note here is that after taking full account of objections
and opposing views he was always entirely orthodox.
3. Although Mascall united
philosophy and theology, although he felt at home in both of them, and
although he wrote extensively on both, the question may still be asked
whether he was primarily a philosophical or a doctrinal theologian. A
plausible case can be made out for saying that he was primarily a
philosophical one. It has been claimed with good reason that his early
philosophical works He Who Is and Existence and Analogy
are those for which he will be chiefly remembered. Also in his
treatment of Christian beliefs he excelled in logical analysis (not
least when he was refuting those who rejected these beliefs or advocated
“reductionist” interpretations of them). Therefore, although after his
move to London he was concerned more with doctrinal than with
philosophical theology, he found no difficulty in returning to
philosophy in his Gifford Lectures in which he covered what was for him
new ground by discussing “transcendental” Thomism (a late
twentieth-century movement within Roman Catholicism that is essentially
different from the classical Thomism derived from Aquinas).
The volume of Mascall’s published
work is alone enough to make it inevitable that even those who largely
agree with him should disagree on this point or that. Furthermore, even
his admirers may feel that his work suffers from this or that defect.
Some may wish that he had offered a more thorough treatment of Barth
and Barth’s successors within Continental Protestantism; or that he had
said more about the relation between Christianity and non-Christian
religions; or that he had produced a summa synthesising those
reflections on Christian doctrines that are dispersed throughout so many
books and articles. Also, although Mascall gave grounds for rejecting
extreme scepticism concerning the historicity of the gospels, it is
questionable whether he always fully grasped the extent to which
biblical criticism requires a reinterpretation of Christian beliefs or
at least a reassessment of the evidence for them.
Nevertheless, the extent to which
Mascall combined philosophical and doctrinal theology, when this is
taken together with his other achievements, clearly make him an
outstanding figure among British theologians in the second half of this
century. This is all the more remarkable in view of the fact that his
university education was in mathematics. Although he held that such an
education gave a training in mental orderliness and precision, he also
admitted that mathematics does not help us to solve theolo-gical
problems.
No tribute to Mascall can do full
justice to his writings for these reasons. Mainly, although his books
have a unity and coherence constituted by the unchanging elements in his
thought, each of them is self-contained and so requires a detailed
review. Moreover, a large part of their usefulness consists in
quotations from and discussions of other writers. However, in order to
give an example of Mascall’s thought I shall consider Chapter 4 of his
Words and Images. I have chosen this on the following grounds.
In this book Mascall sums up, for a general as well as an academic
readership, his views on religious epistemology that he examined in
technical detail in his He Who Is and Existence and Analogy;
this chapter shows his ability to make a telling use of quotations; it
illustrates his unification of philoso-phical with doctrinal theology;
and it serves as a means of developing comments I made on the
description of Mascall as a Thomist.
Mascall begins by affirming that “it
is essential to the position for which I am arguing that the intellect
does not only reason, but also apprehends; it has as its object, not
only truths but things” (p. 63). He then quotes Josef Pieper for
stating this distinction in terms of the contrast between the
understanding as ratio and the understanding as intellectus.
He then applies this distinction to our knowledge of physical objects,
other minds, and God. He maintains that in all these cases, especially
the second and third, our knowledge consists in an act of intellectual
intuition whereby we penetrate sensible phenomena in order to reach
intelligible reality. This knowledge, so far from being “clear and
distinct,” is mysterious and obscure. Moreover (at any rate so far as
God is concerned) it is not obtainable without the appropriate attitudes
of contemplation and humility.
Mascall then interprets our
intuitive knowledge of God through the concept of mystery that he
defines thus:
There are in fact three features
which belong to a mystery as I am now using the term. In the first
place, on being confronted with a mystery we are conscious that the
small central area of which we have a relatively clear vision shades off
into a vast background which is obscure and as yet impenetrated.
Secondly, we find, as we attempt to penetrate this background in what I
have described as an attitude of humble and wondering contem-plation,
that the range and clarity of our vision progressively increase but that
at the same time the background which is obscure and impenetrated is
seen to be far greater than we had recognized before. It is in fact
rather as if we were walking into a fog with the aid of a lamp which was
steadily getting brighter; the area which we could see with some
distinctness would get larger and larger but so also would the opaque
and undifferentiated background in which no detail was yet visible. Thus
in the contemplation of a mystery there go together in a remarkable way
an increase both of knowledge and also of what we might call conscious
ignorance. The third feature of a mystery to which I want to call
attention is the fact that a mystery, while it remains obscure in
itself, has a remarkable capacity of illuminating other things (p. 79).
At the beginning of the next
paragraph Mascall continues thus:
It would be easiest to demonstrate
this threefold character of mysteries and their contemplation by
reference to the great revealed mysteries of the Christian faith, for
example the Trinity and the Incarnation. We should see how the gradual
formulation of the Church’s dogmas in more and more precise terms went
hand in hand with a growing understanding of the necessarily analogical
character of the terms and concepts employed and of the essentially
unique and transcendent nature of the truths and realities under
consideration. We should also see how the Church’s understanding of
matters that were not in the narrow sense religious had been deepened as
the result of light shed upon them by the Christian mysteries; how, for
example, the notion of a human being as a responsible person had been
enhanced by the doctrines of the tri-personality of God and of the
assumption of human nature by God in the Incarnation (pp. 79-80).
It is, however, with natural (not
supernatural) mysteries, and so with the apprehension of God available
to all theists, that Mascall is now principally concerned. Having
denied that God’s existence is rationally demonstrable, but also having
assigned a place to the arguments of natural theology, Mascall affirms
that belief in God must rest on an apprehension (or intuition) of him.
In particular he affirms, claiming (rightly) the support of A. M.
Farrer and Illtyd Trethowan, that God is intuitively known in his
created effects. This is what he says on page 85: “What can thus be
apprehended is neither the creature-without-God nor God-without-the
creature, but the creature-deriving-being from God and
God-as-the-creative-ground-of-the-creature:
God-and-the-creature-in-the-cosmological relation.” Mascall then uses
(as the Augustinian theologian Bonaven-tura used) the term “contuition”
to signify the appre-hension of God in and with his creatures.
Any account of Mascall’s life and
work would be incomplete without a reference to him as a churchman. He
wrote extensively on the Church, and his whole life was dominated by a
sense of belonging to it as the Body of Christ and the people of God.
In particular he considered the task of the theologian to consist in a
rational understanding of the super-natural revelation given to the
Church. Therefore he deplored the reduction of theology to a purely
academic study of its component parts from a historical point of view.
Therefore too he maintained that the theologian should pursue his work
with a sense of responsibility to Christian believers in general and the
parish clergy in particular.
Mascall was a lifelong Anglican
despite his sympathy with Roman Catholicism and Orthodoxy. He has often
been called an Anglo-Catholic. The description is correct in so far as
if we divide members of the Anglican communion into Catholics, liberals,
and evangelicals we must assign Mascall to the first of these groups.
Thus he served in Anglo-Catholic parishes and held a characteristically
Anglo-Catholic view of the Church’s ministry. Yet there was nothing
narrow or bigoted about him. In so far as he entered into controversy
with his fellow-Anglicans he did so chiefly, not along party lines, but
on the grounds that they denied or at least were agnostic concerning
fundamental beliefs that, being based firmly on the scriptures and the
creeds, Christians of all kinds have in common. Thus in his latter days
some of his strongest rebukes were administered to those Anglican
theologians who undermined belief in Christ’s deity and resurrection.
His capacity for ecumenical understanding was shown by the fact that in
London he fitted easily into a university faculty that contained
teachers of various denominations. In particular he had a high regard
for his Congregationalist and Methodist colleagues in New College and
Richmond College.
In the year before Mascall’s death
his memoirs (entitled, enigmatically, Saraband) were published.
These contain many interesting, and sometimes amusing, descriptions of
men he came to know in ecclesiastical and academic contexts. From the
standpoint of this obituary two facts stand out. First, although
Mascall was deeply indebted to and influenced by the Anglo-Catholicism
of the twenties and thirties, he was not uncritical of it and regarded
its core as consisting, not in the beliefs and practices that
distinguish it from other forms of Anglicanism, but in three elements
that are firmly based on the New Testament—the practice of prayer, the
celebration of the eucharist, and the belief that the Christian is (or
can be) supernaturally transformed by his incorporation into Christ.
Secondly, because Mascall’s original degrees were in science he never
expected, when he was first ordained, that he would become a university
teacher of theology. This is what he says at the end of his memoirs. “I
have never thought of myself as an academic who found it convenient to
be in holy orders but as a priest who, to his surprise, found himself
called to exercise his priesthood in the academic realm” (p. 379).
Mascall’s memoirs also remind us of
a fact that I have not so far mentioned and that is sometimes
overlooked. Although Mascall wrote almost entirely on philosophical and
doctrinal theology, he was from the beginning of his priesthood
concerned with the ethical and social implications of Christianity.
While he was still a curate his concern with Christian sociology was
awakened by Maurice Reckitt; and he was later an active member of the
Christendom group. He became a vigorous opponent of what he considered
to be spiritual and moral defects of capitalism. Two of the grounds on
which he was attracted to Anglo-Catholicism were its social teaching and
its ministry to the urban poor.
It would be easy to obtain the
impression that Mascall’s interests were wholly religious. Admittedly
his main energies were devoted to reading, writing, and teaching
theology. Admittedly too the account that he gives in his autobiography
of his journeys abroad is almost entirely of an ecclesiastical or a
religious kind. Yet he had other interests. In addition to studying
the natural sciences he was well read in both classical and modern
novels; he was especially fond of Haydn’s music; and he was keenly
sensitive to visual beauty both in nature and in art. Moreover,
although he disliked administration, and although at meetings devoted to
university or college affairs he sometimes had an abstracted air that
may well have concealed inner tedium, he was capable of offering shrewd
judgements on the rare occasions on which he spoke.
Mascall struck many people by his
gentle and unobtrusive manner, his courtesy, and his modesty. These were
all seasoned and made more distinctive by his sense of humour which was
expressed in his Oxford verses published as Pi in the High, and
later, in London, in the verses he used to send his colleagues. In his
character the amusing and the serious, the grave and the light-hearted,
formed a natural unity. He had an expressive face that, according to
mood and circumstance, could be either gravely set or lit up with a
smile reflected in his eyes. Sometimes and to some people he could seem
shy, solitary, and austere. But in the right company and situation he
would open up and display the geniality for which he was no less widely
known. He will be remembered in both ecclesiastical and academic
circles with admiration, affection, and gratitude.