Reading Reflections


Entering this class, I was not entirely sure, what to expect or think. So as I muse through my  copious notes on the class and the readings, I will try and interact with the line of questioning I was engaging when entering this class: what is the church, what is it about Christianity in general that has tried to be so totalitarian… when the message of Jesus Christ was love, and the basic tenants of Christianity articulated by Paul all centered initially on inclusivity, erasing the boundaries of otherness between Jew and Gentile…and somehow now we find ourselves in current day Christianity in little fragments of Churches, most still claiming that they in some way, have more truth than the others… My questions mostly stem from my lifelong quest to really try and understand at a religious and personal level, how it is that people who have strong beliefs in differing doctrines can have such a vehement ability to impersonalize and dehumanize one another. It’s not always a hate, but the more I consider the failing interactions between even people who are technically supposed to be united in some way or another, the more I consider it dangerous to try and engage individuals through the lens of a totalitarian system which tries to universalize a religion to all sorts of people, no two of whom are alike. So I will be engaging all my thoughts and the material from class as a struggling Catholic wrestling with my own presuppositions of the world and trying to learn a more Christ-like attitude to engage with people and to apply to the larger problem of whatever it is that makes up “Church.”

One of the first questions I wrote down in my journal, the first day of class was “Can we have belief in an absolute truth and not be relationally forceful? My conversion and internal faith perspectives spur this question….” Levinas began to play in my mind and my conception of God and faith… I did not grow up in the universal sort of absolutist faith system that considers reason the likeness and image of God. Reading Levinas’ Totality and Infinity, I gleaned a lot more of the perspective of God that I have, and of others,  which I feel needs to be integrated more deeply into the Catholic faith. When approaching the Catholic Church’s overall perspective of persons, I find Levinas’ preface to be very instrumental in identifying the demon in the rough of what I have been straining against religiously, both in engaging with God and other persons: “The relation between the same and the other is not always reducible to knowledge of the other by the same, nor even to the revelation of the other to the same, which is already fundamentally different from disclosure.”[1] Levinas’ own questions about the Other, rejecting knowing as the most appreciative knowing of the Other… encouraged me that the purpose of recognizing Other in what it fully was, was not to absorb it into the totality of my thought and identity—like I have often been afraid happens in my Church… it is not a possession, it is a mysterious wonderment to relate with something wholly apart from myself, fundamentally constituted in a reality I can never fully step into.  My approach to Church has always been to try and open myself up wide enough to encompass whatever is being offered in the particular denomination or culture I am present with, worshipping with… to assimilate it into myself. And perhaps my identity allows some adoption, but I will never be fully constituted in or by the group/person/identity which is different from me. I must learn to relate with it in its difference.

Levinas’ discussion of desire and the Desired was precisely put in the most romantic terms in which I love to consider my God, my Jesus… which is never fully sated, even in its absolute state, as he recognizes in “Metaphysics and Transcendence,” for the Desired is so absolutely other, my longing will simply drive me to a perpetually deepening in the sojourning of this life. Maybe this would drive a stake of despair into some hearts, but the revelation of these words to me, and the realization that my quest after an incorporeal, yet somehow physically present Body of Christ on earth…. And maybe even a mystically knowing-by-experience with this Jesus despite the distance of heaven… gave me a sense of hope. Mine, I realized, in relationship with God and Church, is a “metaphysical desire (that) has another intention; it desires beyond everything that can simply complete it.”[2] Levinas makes a beautiful transition from the categorical and impersonal language I am used to hearing when metaphyics is discussed to draw it into his intimate redefinition of transcendence, and experience of love and desire:  “To die for the invisible, this is metaphyics.”[3]

For Levinas, God is a Stranger to me, because I can only know Him in the glimpses of relational experience I catch now and again evades me grasp so I can never pin God down into a systematic totality… but rather, Levinas reaffirms that my identity and the identity of the Other necessarily remain distinct and relate in a way that does not try to dominate the Other.[4] This I struggle with a bit applying to God. At least in the freedom I perceive in my own life, the free will with which I make decisions and act out volitionally my own morality and personal relationships, I could agree with Levinas’ suggestions that the equal relationship with Other is permitted to remain Other is only in a condition where there is no power hierarchy. Yet… what theological difficulties does this present? What about the doctrines of omnipotence, omnipresence, etc? Can God be all-powerful if the relationship I establish with Him is based on my perception of no power hierarchy between us? Rather, I think this is a more easily applied to Church relations. Why cannot different denominations simply look at one another encounter the Divine in other another however He is held differently[5]? Perhaps I have tarried too long on just a portion of my beloved Levinas and should move forward to engaging our other readings, reading from them what I can apply to my own struggle with Christianity in the rather universalizing system I am part of.

The discussion concerning Islamapobia interested me quite a bit… partly because out of the three “Religions of the Books,” only Islam and Christianity and “universal” in the sense of making disciples and evangelizing. Judaism seems quite content to take only those who are willing to approach it and conform to it rather than inviting others to enter. Throughout our discussion in class, I wondered about the competition of conquest between the two religions, and if it were ever possible to claim a universal truth while not becoming too particularizing (in terms of membership or exclusive beliefs) when brought to a global context? Is pluralism the answer to solving monolithic systems of monotheistic and strictly principled religion like Christianity and Islam? Farid Esack mused a bit on pluralism within Islamic tradition in Qur’an, Liberation & Pluralism: noting that liberalism has difficulty interacting with some more traditional notions of religious concepts in Islam, Esack  distinguishes between a hermeneutic of pluralism with the aim of liberation from the hermeneutic of pluralism simply for the sake of integrating liberal ideology into a patriarchal religious system.[6] This chapter sought to redefine the labels and titles used in the Qur’an to dynamically assess the behavioral expectations of the labels’ content in progressively redefined context. Esack refuses to allow personal accountability to slide under the guise of group identity, but recognizes that religious individuality is open for perpetual transformation, thus making the group identity dynamic as well.[7] This recognition that the pluralistic group identity would be an extremely useful tool to integrate into Catholic understanding of tradition.

To some degree, I recognize that Catholisicm prides itself on the pluralism caught up in the universal religion, perhaps much like Islam, but sometimes I wonder about the extent of the pluralism. I must confess this musing is a bit uniformed… I do realize the diversity of Religious orders in the Catholic Church, as well as the multiple rites which are part of the larger Catholic Churches, beyond the Roman Latin rite most popularly celebrated in the West.[8] Yet how inclusive are these seven various rites of the Church, and would the Catholic Church be willing to expand those? Well, in recent news the worldwide Anglican Communion led by Archbishop Williams has announced plans to rejoin the Catholic Church: “Under the terms of an apostolic constitution (formal decree), disaffected conservative Anglicans will be able to join the Catholic Church while retaining their distinctive liturgical, spiritual and pastoral traditions.”[9] Is this a move of absorbing the Other, or is the preservation of the Anglican rite a type of inclusivity, as described in Esack’s Chapter 5, “The Qur’an & The Other: Pluralism and Justice.”

Interestingly, Esack points out that while “the Qur’an does not regard all people and their ideas as equal,” it does proceed “from the premise that the idea of inclusiveness is superior to exclusiveness.”[10] Utilizing another scholar’s comparison of inclusivity to working democracy and exclusivity to fascist political parties, where inclusivity is “not merely a willingness to let every idea and practice exist” but rather is “geared towards specific objectives, such as freeing humankind from injustice and servitude to other human beings so that they might be free to worship God.”[11] These principles as well, I think, can be applied to the Catholic Church, as well as all other church denominations that see themselves as universal. So perhaps to all my Catholic counterparts, I have a very skewed ecclesiology… but if the body of Christ is truly to be composed in relationship of the parts to one another, we cannot afford to be exclusive, but rooted in the same declaration of Christ sinlessly living, unjustly crucified, and resurrected, seated at God’s right hand in glory, can we not learn to treat one another in relationship with humility? So I conclude an all-too-brief reflection with a few verses from Romans 12:

3 And through the grace that I have been given, I say this to every one of you: never pride yourself on being better than you really are, but think of yourself dispassionately, recognizing that God has given to each one his measure of faith. 4 Just as each of us has various parts in one body, and the parts do not all have the same function: 5 in the same way, all of us, though there are so many of us, make up one body in Christ, and as different parts we are all joined to one another.[12]


[1]Reader:  Levias, Emmanuel. Totality and Infinity. 28.

[2] Reader: Levinas, “Metaphysics and Transcendence,” Totality and Infinity. 34.

[3] Ibid., 35.

[4] Ibid.,39.

[5] ‘scuse me for a moment, I just realized I was using patriarchal language, or what is perceived as non-inclusive language when speaking about God. I don’t believe God has gender, in my thinking, I still am trying to resolve the patriarchal origins of the text, but I tend to think the authors had a purpose in using certain gender for God. My theology proper is rather conservative… I am very open to using female pronouns when speaking the Holy Spirit aspect of the Divine Trinity… I am just trying to clarify here that I am not attempting to be sexist, simply speaking from a conservative background, in an explorative state with my Christianity.

[6] Reader: Esack, Farid. Chapter 4, “Redefining Self & Other: Imam, Islam & Kufr,” Qur’an, Liberation & Pluralism, 116.

[7] Ibid., 144.

[8] According to a web page published by The Minnesota St. Thomas More Chapter of Catholics United for the Faith, March/April 2000, called “The Rites of the Catholic Church,” “The Catechism lists seven rites. These rites so listed: Latin, Byzantine, Alexandrian, Syriac, Armenian, Maronite, and Chaldean,2 are actually families of liturgical expression.” Accessed 22 Oct 2009. <http://www.mncuf.org/rites.htm>.

[9] “Rome’s Anglican Option May Change Both Churches.” 21 October 2009. Sourced from News Website, “The Age,” through WAtoday.com.au. <http://www.watoday.com.au/opinion/editorial/romes-anglican-option-may-change-both-churches-20091021-h8zc.html>.

[10] Reader: Esack, Farid. Chapter 5, “The Qur’an & The Other: Pluralism & Liberation,” Qur’an, Liberation & Pluralism, 175.

[11] Ibid.

[12] New Jerusalem Bible, Copyright 2009 Catholic Online. All materials contained on this site, whether written, audible or visual are the exclusive property of Catholic Online and are protected under U.S. and International copyright laws, © Copyright 2009 Catholic Online. Any unauthorized use, without prior written consent of Catholic Online is strictly forbidden and prohibited. Accessed 25 October 2009. <http://www.catholic.org/bible/book.php?id=52>.

From class discussion on the 20th of October, we discussed “Paul’s Paradoxical Life as Apostolic Witness,” based out of chapter 10 in Schnelle. The conversation about the contradictory values/practice of the Corinthian people in comparison to Paul’s uplifting of his own life as a path of imitation of Christ nudged my own imagination towards something I have wrestled with in my own church, the Catholic church, since my confirmation in April… pretence of accepting the paradoxical salvation Jesus has laid out for us, while in reality fostering contradictory doctrine and practice. Hearing that the Corinthian people, who are widely recognized among Biblical scholars as people who loved to party, really held ascetical spiritual ideals of abstinence/celibacy and other separatist practices, I began contemplating the idea of consecration as held in the Catholic hierarchy, not the Catholic populous of lay people today. We have something like a hierarchy set up for life vocations… remaining one of the few churches, if not the only one, to uphold celibacy as a more complete imitation Christi than marriage; in my circles filled with people of the life style classified as “Religious,” I often hear that such a complete consecration is “a higher form of life.”As I explore this teaching of my church in conversation with Paul, Schnelle and our class in II Corinthians,  I will layout what I understand the paradox of Paul’s life witness from Schnelle, Paul and our class discussions, wrestle with the question of consecration as a separating out from the world, and then reflect on whether my church’s stratification of life vocations is really the paradox it is claimed to be or rather, a contradiction from my understanding of imitation Christi in Paul.

Since most of my reflection on what Paul’s life as paradoxical witness means come from section 10.3 of Schnelle (pg. 245-251), I will follow his categories of organization: (1) Power in Weakness, (2) The Apostle’s Integrity,  and (3) The Earthly and Heavenly House. The most striking aspect of the idea of a paradoxical life, to me at least, is the idea of power in weakness. Summed up in II Corinthians 4.7-12:

7 But we hold this treasure in pots of earthenware, so that the immensity of the power is God’s and not our own. 8 We are subjected to every kind of hardship, but never distressed; we see no way out but we never despair; 9 we are pursued but never cut off; knocked down, but still have some life in us; 10 always we carry with us in our body the death of Jesus so that the life of Jesus, too, may be visible in our body. 11 Indeed, while we are still alive, we are continually being handed over to death, for the sake of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus, too, may be visible in our mortal flesh. 12 In us, then, death is at work; in you, life.

Schnelle articulates the paradox of Paul’s Apostolic ministry being the constant presence of death which seemed to only increase his energy, fervor and urgency of his message. From Paul’s own testimony, since encountering Jesus of the Damascus road, he has been longing for that death which would allow his glorification with his Lord (Philippians 1.21). Paul understands his purpose on earth to walk in the very footsteps of Jesus, to suffer in proclamation of the gospel, and to die… that he might be resurrected… he longs for a “more real” life, the complete and full life which is not obtained until one is in the presence of Christ. In emptying himself of the prestige he could have held among the Jewish people because of his education, Paul makes himself low like Jesus, serving the world to achieve His goal of salvation, with Jesus. This reminds me of the Henri Nouwen book, The Selfless Way of Christ: Downward Mobility and the Spiritual Life. The very title encapsulates what Schnelle portrays as paradox in Paul’s life witness: rather than oriented to death and decimation, Paul finds liberation from his own self-confined restraints in finally being filled fully with the life of Christ when his own life has run out of him.

In the profound understanding of Paul’s persistent seeking of life through a way of death and pain as the same paradox which allowed Jesus Christ to be glorified for the salvation of all, the second title-head of “The Apostle’s Integrity” also emphasizes paradox as the way of life for the believer. Schnelle states elegantly, “Externally, the life of the apostle is worn away and exhausted by the many sufferings he must endure in the course of his mission. At the same time, within this (outer nature, 4.16) the grace of God is at work through the Spirit.” (248) Paul’s sufferings have unlocked his heart to experience “the true treasures of life: faith and hope in God” (248) which he offers to the church as well. This, Schnelle explains, demonstrates the consistency of Paul’s belief in “a particular understanding of reality” which is not natural to human beings in unredeemed states (247).  Because Paul preaches “God as the ultimate ground of reality,” the external state of existence is unimportant and can be as wretched as Paul’s own life after meeting Christ, though God continues working through it (247). This separation of corporeal reality from ultimate reality in God allows Schnelle to turn to the final element of paradox in Paul’s life ministry, “The Earthly and Heavenly House.”

This discussion of earthly and heavenly homes in II Corinthians 5 led me to wonder about Paul being Gnostic in the past… but in more recent explorations of dualism in my own Catholic journey, I think there must be a greater continuity between body and soul, though Paul does seem to emphasize the liberation of life as spiritual. While the first 2 verses of this chapter seem to want to discard the body, the third erases ideas of dualism with the presentation of the idea of heavenly bodies: “… longing to put on our heavenly home over the present one; if indeed we are to be found clothed rather than stripped bare.” While Schnelle explicates this as indeed Paul’s desire for all mortality to be swallowed up, it is not a hope for purely spiritual state of being, but his desire to be “found clothed” is in a new body. Because of this interpretation I’m bringing to II Corinthians 5.3, while I agree with Dr. Balch’s notes that Paul’s assessment the body is usually negative (Schenelle Chapter 10 Summary, pg. 3, par 2), I don’t agree that dualism characterizes this section… only the appearance of dualism, but certainly individualism and abating an anxious expectation of a soon end. I prefer Schnelle’s explanation as dualistic imagery, which Paul uses to indicate that there is no soon departure from these imperfect bodies. The fellowship he experiences in the present with Jesus, both crucified and risen, will lack fulfillment until that heavenly body is obtained.

It would seem that no matter how much Paul seems to accept the current situation, he still demonstrates a discontent and longing for a future fullness. For all my attempts to not read dualism into II Corinthians, Paul strains towards this idea of separation with current situations…at least a future separation. In the present, the only thing besides godly behavior setting believers apart from their fellow Corinthians in the hope of this future separation… at base, this acceptance of an alternate reality according to which they are patterning their lives now. So, I am going to try and integrate this conversation back to my original issue of consecration in an ascetical sense… and how I wonder whether my church is creating more of a contradiction, perhaps a dualism in the life ideas we heirarchicize on earth. In II Corinthians, Paul doesn’t speak about a separate way of living, rather a hope and belief reality, which would affect behavior, but not as much as celibate ideal voiced in 1 Corinthians 7. So the only form of consecration I really see communicated in II Corinthians 4 and 5 is really the alternate reality to what is apparent to unredeemed peoples, the absolute reality.

This then leads me to wrestle with my own church’s ideal of consecration as a separation, ascetical existence…the Catholic sense of “highest form of life…”; is that more Jewish than Christian? Didn’t Jesus come to make up pure and different, in world, and where do we fit the other-worldly ideals. Are we in Catholicism preaching too much of a non-paradoxical gospel, and more of a human contradiction, by saying that; so how do we read 1 Cor 7 in light of the passion narrative? Jesus took flesh and touched women. The paradox of Paul was the acceptance of another reality, and willingness to suffer now in order to someday be admitted well into that heavenly reality… which is what the Catholic ascetical ideal seems to try and live out as a sign of a coming heaven on earth. My church interprets the Matthew 19 dialog about no giving in marriage in heaven to signify that heaven is celibate, a speculation which may be true, but definitely causes some confusion when one is choosing what sort of priorities to set on earth here and now for eternity.

We Catholics have in the heart of our theology retained an idea of imitating Jesus through asceticism, rather than integrated living which doesn’t contradict natural ends of life, but embracing suffering as a way of drawing closer to Christ, we seem to prefer elevating the contradiction of human nature. I love the idea of celibacy as a state of life consecrated to life, and it is special, rare, unusual, but how can it be a more complete consecration? Where do we find the beauty of something so abnormal and not make it the most perfect imitation of Christ… are we as people capable of living after Jesus without making comparison and judgment between degrees and values of holy living. How much paradox do we invite into our lives and are we willing to let go of reason and be fools in the living out. I hardly think so often times if our imago dei is reason (human reason?). Maybe paradise is a cloister, a monastery, a hermits hut. But heaven starts on earth, in that sense of hope looking forward, yes? If, according to 2 Cor 5.16-17… “we know according to the flesh Christ”; in suffering that we know Christ or that we no longer know the fleshly Jesus? As Dr. Balch said, the whole range of human feelings, including, but not at its peak in mystical experiences, is the expression of our gospel. But ok, that’s my perception.

Hylomorphic Relics: Form of Corporeity in the Matter of Saintly Veneration

Medieval Controversy between Aquinas and Bonaventure over Unity of Form

Introduction:

Inquiring into the medieval cult of relics, I was aware of a controversy over the veneration of relics as well as a diversity of reasons provided for the veneration of relics. Choosing to focus my research of the philosophical thought of St. Thomas Aquinas and Bonaventure, contemporaries in different veins of the Augustinian tradition of Aristotle’s philosophy, I wondered how both were able to derive a theology that permitted the veneration of relics, corporeal remains of what had once been the vivified bodies of saints. Pointing out first the differences in Aquinas and Bonaventure’s thought on the composition of the human person (body and soul, equated with matter and form) through Aquinas’ condemnation in 1277 at Oxford. Rejecting the Augustinian matter/form theory with which Bonaventure agrees, Aquinas’ objection to famosissimum binarium Augustinianum, the plurality of forms in one soul, in particular indicates a different justification for the veneration of relics than that of Bonaventure. Transitioning from the Oxford condemnation to contrasting the two saints’ justifications of the veneration of relics, I will distinguish the elements of Aquinas’ thought for which he was thought unable to argue for the veneration of saints’ relics. Pointing out Aquinas’ distinctions between heavenly and spiritual bodies as rooted in the hypostatic union of natures in Christ, I will discuss how Aquinas’ veneration of relics is rooted in the Eucharist, which remains today as the living relic in Catholic thought. Concluding with a consideration of the applicability of Aquinas’ unity of form over Bonaventure’s multiplicity of substantial form to today’s thought, I will propose how the Protestant consideration of the Catholic practice of venerating saints’ relics still clings to a more Augustinian philosophy of relics.

Problem of Relics and Relating to the Saints:

The history of venerating Christian relics appears to be very controversial, from those who claim that the tradition of relics, physical remnants of things or persons which had been deemed holy or vessels of holiness, stems from ancient ancestor worship, to early Christian worship in the catacomb tombs of martyrs.[1] A fracturing point for Christians from the time of the reformation on, relics have stirred controversy between Catholics and other baptized believers. In his autobiography, Pilgrimage from Rome, ex-priest Bart Brewer now head of Mission to Catholics International posits that a “dogma that has bothered Catholics for centuries is the veneration of relics and the claims that they have magical powers. Even Martin Luther wondered how there could be twenty-six apostles buried in Germany, when there were only twelve in the entire Bible!”[2]

The direction of the Congregation for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments 2001 “Directory on Popular Piety and the Liturgy: Guidelines and Principles” [3] addressed the issue of venerating saint’s relics communicates the current, popular belief that relics of saints[4] to contain the same sanctity as these heroic persons now residing in Heaven. While there is no explicit discussion of power implicit in these relics, the Catechism recognizes relics as “sacramentals,”[5] which through extraneous to official liturgy of the Church, are:

These expressions of piety extend the liturgical life of the Church, but do not replace it. They “should be so drawn up that they harmonize with the liturgical seasons, accord with the sacred liturgy, are in some way derived from it and lead the people to it, since in fact the liturgy by its very nature is far superior to any of them.”(179)[6]

Seeing saint’s relics as a symbol of “the communion with the Sacrifice of Christ of the entire Church,” drawing a connection between the martyr’s blood in sacrifice for the gospel with the placing of their remains under the altar on which Christ is offered in symbolic sacrifice of Eucharist,[7] the Church postulates its belief in the unity of heavenly and earthly body’s of God’s people. This doctrine of communion of the saints has two meanings, ‘communion in holy things (sancta)” and “among holy persons (sancti)’[8] This relation between those who are physically dead, yet spiritually alive with God in Heaven and capable of interceding for those on earth is closely tied to the philosophical consideration of the composition of the human person as body and soul.

Aquinas and Unity of Form in Oxford Condemnation:

To understand the Medieval devotion to the cult of saintly relics, one must understand the medievals’ perspective of the world: a Hellenist distinction of soul and body between lunar and sublunary worlds: “The world below the moon was a world of corruption and decay, necessarily inferior to the world of the heavens, thought to be beyond time and change, incorruptible.”[9] Medieval scholastics considered death to be the means of crossing the “fault line”[10] between corrupting corporeal material (the body) and the spiritual realm pure light.[11] According to Christian thought, this separation between soul and body was only temporary until resurrection, though “the dead body joined in the instability and opacity of the sublunary world while the soul enjoyed the unmovable clarity of the remainder of the universe.”[12] It was in this world that saints “bridged the gap between divine perfection and human imperfection.”[13] The unusual grace of saints, begun with the belief that martyrs of the faith found consolation for their earthly wounds immediately in the bosom of their Savior in Heaven, made them windows to the spiritual grace of God for other humans before and after death.[14] Living and dead saints were considered to “simultaneously present in heaven and on earth.”[15] Because of the holiness of the person, normal phenomena of death (separation of the soul and body) was nullified, and a saint’s “soul in heaven was in contact with the body on earth, and communicated the heavenly power (virtus) of the soul to the body.”[16]

The Medieval veneration of relics during the 13th century when St. Thomas Aquinas was writing and teaching was based on the Augustinian hylomorphic composition of the soul.[17] Representing this Augustinian hylomorphism, St. Bonaventure’s relation of form and matter diverges from that of Aquinas; though both theologically conclude that form and matter relate in such a way as to permit the veneration of saintly relics. According to Daniel Callus’ investigation of Aquinas’ divergence from “Augustinian” theory of the composition of form and matter in the human person, Augustinians in 1277 claimed that: (1) matter and form were identified with potentiality and actuality; (2) there was a sort of actuality in prime matter, a disposition due to rationes seminales to be independently; and (3) “the substantial form confers only one determinate perfection.”[18] The focus of this discussion is the point of contention from which these three principles are merely premises to the hylomorphic composition of the human being (though Augustinians claimed all created beings were composed thus). It is for rejecting this “binarium famosissimum, the twofold pillar on which the whole structure of the Augustinian school was supposed to stand,”[19] that Aquinas was condemned in 1270.

Yet what does binarium famosissimum imply in the hylomorphic composition of human beings? Before this question can be asked, we must discuss the origin of hylomorphic being, the root in which both Aquinas and Bonaventure (postulating Augustinian theory) understood being to be. According to the Encyclopaedia Britannica, the term “hylomorphic” indicating the composition of created being is based on the central doctrine of Aristotelian natural philosophy: a “metaphysical view according to which every natural body consists of two intrinsic principles, one potential, namely, primarily matter, and one actual, namely substantial form.”[20] Upon this basis Aquinas and the Augustinians agreed, along with the implications that matter and form could not exist or act independently. Having established the commonality of material and formal composition of created beings, what is the binarium famosissimum in regard to this hylomorphic composition of being with which Aquinas took issue? Binarium famosissimum is the “theory known as “plurality of forms” is not just the theory that there are typically many forms in a material substance.”[21] While Aquinas would have agreed with the notion of many accidental forms in material substances, binarium famosissimum suggests the “plurality of substantial forms in a given material substance.”[22]

Instead of accepting this view of multiple substantial forms in one individual, Aquinas proposed a distinction between compositions of corporeal and spiritual beings. Criticizing the perspective of the Augustinians, Aquinas posited three tenets from which he stated that a plurality of substantial forms could not be derived in human beings: (1) matter and form should not be equated with potentiality and actuality, as matter was only found in those things which would decay; (2) prime matter is complete potentiality, without any actual substance of its own; and (3) one substantial form acts upon prime matter to produce a being.[23] Rejecting the idea of rationes seminales, Aquinas claimed that no material body could exist without the determination of a substantial form, but that Angels and human souls were purely spiritual.[24] If one substantial form then gives all determinations and perfections of matter so that it is no way incomplete or imperfect, to posit that a human being can have more than one substantial form goes against metaphysical principles. Though his theory most directly affected the understanding of spiritual things, soul and angels, Aquinas’ “thesis of oneness of substantial form”[25] affected the understanding of human being which is both material and immaterial especially in regards to the subjects of death and immortality.

Denying “hylomorphic composition in spiritual substances and of plurality of forms” was strongly opposed by traditional Augustinians such as Bonaventure, reaching its height while Aquinas was regent in Paris, between 1269-72.[26] In Archbishop John Pecham’s letters of January 1, 1285 ad June 1, 1285, he notes the differences between Aquinas and Bonaventure regarding these theories of unity and plurality of form as representative of their Orders, the Dominicans and Franciscans.[27] Accusing the Dominicans of “forsaking the Saints and following heathen philosophers” by “pursuing a new and very dangerous course,” Pecham accused Aquinas’ theory of the unity of form to be against St. Augustine’s teaching, thus against the Church.[28] Callus liberates Aquinas from this accusation through interrogating the accusation through two questions: (1) the origin of plurality theology and (2) whether Augustine raised and solved the problems of pluralism.[29] Vindicating Aquinas from these accusations of heresy, Callus claims that Augustinians merely appropriated St. Augustine’s assent to the pluralist position, while his “authority was unanimously claimed by the supporters of the unity thesis,”[30] which was acclaimed even among some Franciscan theologians. Callus admits that Aquinas did innovate, but only in the angle at which he approached the metaphysical problem.

Having stated Aquinas’ position on the plurality of forms in rejection, rather stating that the soul is the one substantial form of the body, in opposition to the Augustinian perspective held by Bonaventure of multiple substantial forms per individual, though not against the perspective of St. Augustine himself (as was claimed in Aquinas’ condemnation at Oxford[31].  Focusing on this theme of unity of form as it relates to human nature, I will proceed to explicate Aquinas’ theology on relics as found in the Summa Theological reflecting this notion of unity of form in contrast to the proof for relic veneration from Bonaventure’s Augustinian perspective of multiple substantial forms in one being.

Bonaventure’s Plurality of Form in Relation to Relic Theology (Augustinianism)

St. Bonaventure’s philosophical Augustinianism claims an anthropology of “body-soul dualism that the soul is dominant over the body and independent of the body, and that the will is superior to the intellect.”[32] While Bonaventure denied that matter itself had any existence without form, he did interpret “the intellect and will as functions of the soul that are identical with the soul, not as separate powers.”[33] Holding that the soul separated from the body was not a complete human being, Bonaventure wrote that God did not create death, but that it was the cause of “the human will falling away from rectitude and justice.”[34] Seeing death as the falling apart of two sorts of matters,[35] incorporeal and corporeal matter, Bonaventure explains the immortality of the soul through its retention of substance.[36] Pertaining to the discussion of relics, the consideration of spiritual matter leads Bonaventure to conclude that “when the rational soul is separated from the body at death, it cannot be properly called ‘man.’”[37] With the philosophy of plurality of substantial forms, Bonaventure does not believe that the soul as form of the body can be directly connected to the body. Instead, Cullen infers that the mediating form of corporeity unites soul (spiritual matter) and body (corporeal matter) “because matter is never a pure potency.”[38] With such a perspective of human composition of “matter is disposed to form by seminal reasons, and the form must have an aptitude for the matter.”[39] According to Cullen, Bonaventure introduces two seminal reasons which are present in the material essences of soul and body which predispose them to be united as a human being: (1) unitability, the rationes seminales in the spiritual matter which predisposes it to unity to body and (2) complexion, the preconditioned tendency of corporeal matter which allows it be united to a soul.[40]

In fact, it is only when spiritual and physical matter is united in body and soul that the human being achieves true happiness and completion. Bonaventure claims that death is a violent disruption of the harmony which God intended, for “there is no spiritual fulfillment apart from material reality, either temporally or eternally.”[41] Yet the since the rift between physical and spiritual was torn by the fall, the holiness exuded by the life of a saint offers a healing grace to those other needy souls; a phenomena disintegrating the normal relation between incorporeal and physical matter at the point of death. Noting the interrelated origins of Bonaventure’s Eucharistic theology (which some authors have called the true relic), and consideration for the veneration relics, it is appropriate to make an analogy from Bonaventure’s discussion of Christ’s death (corporeal and spiritual matter of the Eucharist) and body to that of His consideration of saintly men’s bodies as relics. Having discussed Bonaventure’s philosophical understanding of death, his reasoning for veneration of relics seems to be that of a “’real presence of the saints in their relics and graves,’” which is comparable to the real presence of Christ in the elements of the Eucharist.[42] Thus like the Eucharist, the holiness of the saintly person insured that God would not submit that person to corruption,[43] based off of Bonaventure’s horror at “decay—mutability (moral and physical)—and a conviction that there is in the blood the profit of redemption remains immutable God.”[44] It seems from Bonaventure’s commentary on the Sentences that “divine power could have permitted relics of foreskin and blood to survive on earth” since “blood is part of the truth of human nature, which is informed by soul and hypostatically assumed by the Word.”[45] Bonaventure’s remarks about blood relics, Bynum comments, refer not so much to the resurrection of every particle of the physical body, but communicate bodily resurrection as a sure fact because of Christ’s blood.

Bodily death in all its hideousness is not only the punishment for sin; it is also, in a certain sense, the terrible symbol of the deformity that is sin. Death is the final ugliness. The body’s beauty is destroyed. It decomposes, rots, falls apart. In fact, when no longer informed by the spiritual soul, it is not really a body at all, but only a loose amalgam of dissipating elements. Here is the tragedy, the tearfulness of things, lamented by the entire world’s great art: the lovely beloved in the grip of the worms.[46]

This bodily death and corruption is horrible, but worse than the fact of decomposition is the reminder it proffers that the soul and body are divided from one another, and separated from God.[47] Bonaventure’s Eucharistic theology seems to have been deeply influenced by and influencing of his consideration of relics, derived from the belief that death, in separation the soul (incorporeal matter) from the body (corporeal matter) was a corruption of man as he was created to be by God. For Bonaventure, the bodily matter of a human person has been ruined by the fall by corruption leading to this separation between corporeal and incorporeal matter of death.

Centering his theological reflections on an idyllic conception of man in Eden, perfect unity between body and soul, Bonaventure locates the cause of fragmented body and soul in the fault of a human free will: sin caused human corporeality to focus on itself, and thus the body, complexified by multiple forms is in a state of decay till holiness in resurrection.[48] Equating  the separation of body and soul as a consequence of the fall,[49] Bonaventure writes that “’abandoning the soul’s true good for the sake of material satisfaction, the soul became separated against its will from the body, through the body’s death.”’[50] Thus it is only in resurrection or perfection of this divided condition by grace that humans are reunited to seek the good of relationship with God. Since the soul is immortal due to spiritual matter, Bonaventure’s philosophical theology proposes that the relics of saints be venerated because their incorporeal and physical matters have remained united through the grace of heaven, though they appear to be dead. From such lines of thought, that death has no conquered the saints, whose souls remain in communion of real presence with their bodies, some saints’ bodies were believed to be whole and uncorrupted as signs of the immortality that would be imparted to those through imitation of their holiness. Thus veneration of relics was a reminder of the future uniting of corporeal and incorporeal matter when Christ returned to earth as judge with the saints. Even while recognizing this connection of saints’ souls and bodies, Bonaventure maintains that “The soul cannot be fully blessed without the body, because she has a naturally implanted inclination to be reunited with the body.” Resurrection being the ultimate end of man’s body, it was either destined for eternal life (testified to by the holiness of the saints) or eternal death (which Bonaventure viewed as the separation of matter,” a death far more terrible, infinitely uglier: eternal death, the punishment for persisting irrevocably in the grossness of sin.[51]).[52] The immortality of the bodily is memorialized in both relic veneration and Eucharist for Bonaventure, though both only make present temporarily what has yet to be eternally solidified in resurrection. Having presented St. Bonaventure’s reasoning for veneration of relics, I will contrast this perspective with that of Aquinas in the composition of corporeal and spiritual being.

Aquinas’ Unity of Form Hylomorphicism and Relic Theology (Innovation?)

“And so St Bonaventure, like St Thomas, believes that there is incompleteness about the happiness of the saints in heaven before the resurrection of the body.”[53] But to Aquinas, the nature of this separation is more profound, since soul and matter are two parts of one composite being, not two united composite elements: the soul is the one substantial form of the body, and all other qualities which Bonaventure terms “form” are considered accidents. However, Aquinas was critiqued by Augustinians:

The reason why traditionalists objected to Thomas’ theory that in any substance there was only one substantial form was theological in character. If the soul of Christ, they thought, was the one substantial form of the body of Christ, and if there was no ‘form corporeity,’ it would follow that between Christ’s death and his resurrection; his body was not his body at all. In addition, they considered that, on Thomas’ theory, the veneration of the relics and bodies of saints could not be justified. Thomas has a different opinion, but his critics thought that his rejection of the traditional doctrine of ‘form corporeity’ was a perilous novelty.[54]

Judging that Aquinas’ consideration of the hylomorphic composition of man differed from Bonaventure’s traditional Augustinianism, he was forced to prove that the veneration of relics was possible through postulating a hylomorphism where the human soul was the one substantial form of the body. Aquinas’ rebuttal to the accusation of innovation included a response to both the possibility of adoring Christ’s body in the Eucharist as well as the saint’s bodies as vehicles of holiness, further indicating the connection between these physical vessels of grace as noted in Bonaventure.

In the third part of the Summa Theologica in the twenty-fifth question, Aquinas addresses the theological nature of this absence of this form corporeity by discussing “The adoration of Christ.” Arguing philosophically that “per se unity of a substance can only be preserved if one substantial form is united directly with prime matter, which is pure potentiality, so that all of a substance’s actuality is received by this substantial form.”[55] Augustinian plurality of form, by which form corporeity is necessary to unite body and soul, seemed to make unity only “per accidens” possible.[56] Arguing also that there was no such composition of matter and form in spiritual beings, Aquinas opposed the possibility of adoring Christ’s humanity as separate from His divinity.[57] Pointing to Christ as the example for why there can only be one substantial form in a body, Aquinas raises the issue of hypostatic union between Christ’s divine and human natures: If these indicate “that there are several persons or hypostases in Christ, it would follow that there would be, absolutely speaking, several adorations. And this is what is condemned in the Councils.”[58]

Since Christ must have one substantial form to receive a unified adoration, Aquinas turns to answer the objection of Augustinian traditionalists in the sixth article of this question:

It is clear from this that he who has certain affection for anyone, venerates whatever of his is left after his death, not only his body and the parts thereof, but even external things, such as his clothes, and such like. Now it is manifest that we should show honor to the saints of God, as being members of Christ, the children and friends of God, and our intercessors. Wherefore in memory of them we ought to honor any relics of theirs in a fitting manner: principally their bodies, which were temples, and organs of the Holy Ghost dwelling and operating in them, and are destined to be likened to the body of Christ by the glory of the Resurrection. Hence God Himself fittingly honors such relics by working miracles at their presence.[59]

Referring to the first article of this question in which Aquinas discussed adoration to Christ as man and God through a subsistent hypostasis, Aquinas recognizes that “honor is given to a subsistent thing in its entirety.”[60] Thus when the part of a saint’s body or item associated with a saint is venerated, it is not the part of the saint, or the item itself, but, as the saint is a member of Christ’s body; all of Christ’s substantial form (grace) is venerated.[61] While Aquinas demonstrates that his consideration of the hylomorphic composition of the body does not negate the veneration of relics, he rejects the Augustinian notion of plurality of substantial forms in one subject as detracting from the value of the Eucharist, the truest relic, thereby inhibiting the veneration of saints’ relics because of a belief in the form of corporeity.

Aquinas objects to the doctrine of the form of corporeity because unlike Bonaventure and other Augustinians, he postulates a composite difference between spiritual and physical bodies: “the heavenly body is without contrariety, whereas the elemental bodies have contrariety in their nature. And as generation and corruption are from contraries, it follows that, whereas the elements are corruptible, the heavenly bodies are incorruptible”[62] According to Aquinas, if the form of corporeity did exist in physical bodies, it “would inhere in matter immutably and so far all bodies would be incorruptible.”[63] The death of these physical bodies would allow for under a pluralistic hylomorphic theory of human composition would infer that “corruption would then be merely accidental through the disappearance of successive forms—that is to say, it would be corruption, not pure and simple, but partial, since a being in act would subsist under the transient form.”[64] Understanding the corporality of bodies to be due to elemental state of corporeal being, Aquinas claims that no form can exist in corruptible bodies under the conditions of generation and corruption which our bodies are subject too, concluding that “matter of corruptible and incorruptible bodies is not the same. For matter, as it is in itself, is in potentiality to form.”[65]

Aquinas argues that the form of an incorruptible (spiritual) body must differ from that of a corruptible (material) body because they have different potential ends: while the material body has the potential to corrupt, the spiritual body does not, thus they are composed of different matter towards those ends.[66] While confessing that all bodies have a form of corporeity, Aquinas clarifies that this does not mean spiritual and material bodies are composed in the same matter though “they are all included in the one notion of corporeity.”[67] Both heavenly bodies and earthly bodies have matter in so much as they have potentiality towards their form, though heavenly bodies have potentiality only towards their specific forms, which allows that for to perfect “this matter in such a way that there remains in it no potentiality with respect to being, but only to place.”[68] Since Aquinas distinguishes different limits to the potentiality of spiritual and physical beings, the form of corporeality differs:

In the same way, while the term ‘body,’ insofar as it is the genus of all bodies, signified the substantial form of all bodies, referred to by the term of ‘corporeity’ in the first sense, the same term in the sense in which is it the genus of quantity signified an accidental form of the same bodies, namely, their corporeity in the second sense, that is, their dimension extending them into space. But neither is the first, nor the second sense of the term ‘body’ distinguished by Aquinas that is relevant to the claim that a human being, or indeed, and living being, is composed of body and soul.[69]

To summarize, Aquinas distinguishes a necessary difference between the form of corporeity between heavenly and earthly bodies by noting that both contained potentiality towards their respective forms, but that “the matter of the celestial bodies is different from that of the elemental, because the matter of the celestial is not in potentiality to an elemental form.”[70] It is this difference in Aquinas’ consideration of the corporeity of earthly and celestial beings from the Augustinian consideration of corporeity as that capacity for potentiality with regard to one substantial form that allows Aquinas to justify the hypostatic union of Christ’s incarnation as well as advocate the veneration of saints’ relics in relation to the whole body of Christ and not merely bits of human body parts.

Conclusion:

Having introduced the difference between Bonaventure’s Augustinian perspective of the hylomorphic composition of being and Aquinas’, differences for which Aquinas was condemned at Oxford in 1277 (famosissimum binarium, the plurality of substantial forms in one body differing over the specific issue of the form of corporeity), seem the bases from which Augustinian thinkers argued against the valid possibility of venerating saints’ relics in Aquinas’ thought. While both thinkers view death, the separation of human soul and body, as violation of the created composite God intended, both draw different conclusions as to why the composition of spiritual and physical beings creates a link between the relics of saints and their positions of grace in heaven, both interrelated to positions on the transubstantiation of the Eucharist. As Callus points out:

The Thomist innovations, in so far as they are intimately connected with the problems under discussion, resolves themselves ultimately of the true notion of prime matter and substantial form. With the reception of Aristotelian learning and hylomorphic theory was commonly recognized by all schools as a doctrine whereby becoming might be accounted for and the composition of created beings explained. The conflict turned, not so much on the doctrine itself, but rather on the way in which the theory was interpreted. [71]

Predicated on the Eucharistic resurrection of Christ, Bonaventure and Aquinas agree that earthly bodies are subject to corruption, but that saints in heaven have a special relationship to their bodies because corruption no longer binds them. The distinctions between Bonaventure and Aquinas concerning the veneration of saints’ relics evidence themselves through Aquinas’ postulation of unity of substantial form in being. Arguing from the hypostatic union that if Christ’s two natures were considered two forms they would require different sorts of venerations, Aquinas pointed to such practice as heretical in order to distinguish a difference between spiritual and earthly bodies. Rejecting the Augustinian unity of matter, Aquinas claimed that both heavenly and earthly bodies share form of corporeity only in the sense that both have potential towards their forms.

The implications of plurality or unity of substantial form as debated in Aquinas’ condemnation at Oxford in 1277 seem to continue to impact Protestant and Catholic quibbling over the veneration of saints’ relics even today. Having been raised in a Protestant home, I am able to reflect back and see both how we considered the adoration of the Eucharist as well as the veneration of Saints’ relics as foreign as alien to the Body of Christ as we mystically understood Him. The Calvinisitic/Bapstist Protestant perspective I was raised with strikes me as very Platonic in the sense of Augustinianism; in fact St. Augustine was one of the few people whose anthropology and theology I was regularly exposed to. Aquinas, however, writes in a different conception of grace and the human person. As Aquinas’ reasoning is commonly accepted in the Catholic Church, to a Catholic considering the veneration of relics of the Holy Eucharist to be other to Christ is absurd. While the basis of plurality of forms influencing the teaching I received as a child allowed for human nature to contain both good and evil in it as well as emphasized that adoration of relics and Eucharist was idolatry, other to Christ. Perhaps the root of this consideration was not an internal philosophy of multiple substantial forms, but a projection of such onto Catholicism. However, embracing Aquinas, the Catholic position resonates with the thought of Aquinas, that the essence of grace in the relics of the saints, demonstrated through the Holy Eucharist is Christ Himself. Further consideration of this medieval debate on the hylomorphic composition of being might shed more insight into the distinctions between Catholic and Protestant Christianity—and perhaps they will reveal insights that one or the other of these groups bases their opinion of the other on misconceptions like unto the Augustinians’ misreading of Aquinas as opposed to the teachings of St. Augustine and the Church.

Bibliography:

Aquinas, Thomas. Summa Theologica. Second and Revised Edition, 1920. Literally translated by Fathers of the English Dominican Province. Online Edition Copyright © 2008 by Kevin Knight. Nihil Obstat. F. Innocentius Apap, O.P., S.T.M., Censor. Theol.. Imprimatur. Edus. Canonicus Surmont, Vicarius Generalis. Westmonasterii. APPROBATIO ORDINIS. Nihil Obstat. F. Raphael Moss, O.P., S.T.L. and F. Leo Moore, O.P., S.T.L. Imprimatur. F. Beda Jarrett, O.P., S.T.L., A.M., Prior Provincialis Angliæ. 12 May 2009. <http://www.newadvent.org/summa/4025.htm#article6>.

Angenendt, Arnold. “Relics and their veneration in the Middle Ages.” The Invention of Saintliness. Editted by Anneke B. Mulder-Bakker. Routledge/Taylor & Francis Group: London and New York, 2002.

“Binarium Famosissimum.” Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. Jun 16, 2008. Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy Online. 21 May 2009. <http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/binarium/>.

Binski, Paul. Medieval death: Ritual and Representation. Cornell University Press: Ithaca, 1996

Bynum, Caroline Walker. Wonderful Blood: Theology and Practice in Late Medieval Northern Germany and Beyond. University of Pennsylvania Press: Philadelphia , 2006.

Callus, Daniel. “The Condemnation of St. Thomas as Oxford,” No. 5 of The Aquinas Society of London Aquinas Papers. The Newman Bookshop: Westminster and Maryland, 1946.

Copleston, Frederick. A History of Philosophy. Continuum International Publishing Group: London, 2003.

—. Medieval Philosophy. Courier Dover Publications: New York, 2001

Craig, Edward and Routledge (Firm), Ed. Routledge Encyclopedia of Philosophy. Taylor & Francis: New York, 1998.

Cullen. Christopher M. Bonaventure. Oxford University Press US: New York, 2006.

Davies, Brian. Thomas Aquinas: Contemporary Philosophical Perspectives. Oxford University Press US: New York, 2002.

Delio, Ilia. Simply Bonaventure: An Introduction to His Life, Thought, and Writings. New City Press: Newburgh, N.Y., 2001.

Geary, Patrick. Futra Scara: Theft of Relics in the Central Middle Ages. Princeton University Press: Princeton, NJ, 1978.

“hylomorphism.” Encyclopædia Britannica. 2009. Encyclopædia Britannica Online. 21 May. 2009 <http://www.britannica.com/EBchecked/topic/279305/hylomorphism>.

Kowalczyk, Stanislaw. “Augustinianism.” PEF – © Copyright by Polskie Towarzystwo Tomasza z Akwinu. Accessed 20 May 2009. <http://ptta.pl/pef/haslaen/a/augustinianism.pdf>.

Klepper, Deeana. Department of Religion, Boston University. Course: Fall 2007, RN 307/607/STH TX 817 Medieval Christianity (M, W, F 12:00-1:00 P.M). Guide to Week V: Saints, Relics and Pilgrimage. <http://people.bu.edu/dklepper/RN307/guidev.html>.

McGrath, Alister E., Ed. The Christian Theology Reader. Wiley-Blackwell: Malden, 2006.

Pasnau, Robert. Thomas Aquinas on Human Nature: a Philosophical Study of Summa Theologiae 1a, 75-89. Cambridge University Press: Cambridge, UK, 2002.

Pasnau, Robert and Christopher John Shields, Ed. The Philosophy of Aquinas, Revised Edition. Westview Press: Boulder, CO, 2003

John Saward. “The Fresh Flowers Again. St. Bonaventure and the Aesthetics of Resurrection.” 10 April 2009. Accessed 21 May 2009. < http://www.christendom-awake.org/pages/jsaward/fleshflowers.htm.>.

Skirry, Justin. Descartes and the Metaphysics of Human Nature. Continuum International Publishing Group: London, 2005

Wortley, John. “The origins of Christian veneration of body-parts.” Revue de L’Histoire des Religions 223. 2006, Vol. 1., p. 5-28.


[1] Arnold Angenendt. “Relics and their veneration in the Middle Ages.” Invention of Saintliness. Edited by Anneke B. Mulder-Bakker. Routledge Studies in Medieval Religion and Culture. Edited by George Ferzoco and Carolyn Muessig. Routledge/Taylor & Francis Group: London and New York. 2002. 27-8.

[2] Bartholomew F. Brewer and Alfred W. Furrell. Pilgrimage from Rome. Bob Jones University Press: Tennessee, 1986. 132.

[3] Congregation for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments. “Directory on Popular Piety and the Liturgy: Guidelines and Principles.” Vatican City, December 2001. Accessed online, 15 May 2009. <http://www.vatican.va/roman_curia/congregations/ccdds/documents/rc_con_ccdds_doc_20020513_vers-direttorio_en.html>.

[4] This document considers relics to be: The term ‘”relics of the Saints” principally signifies the bodies – or notable parts of the bodies – of the Saints who, as distinguished members of Christ’s mystical Body and as Temples of the Holy Spirit (cf. 1 Cor 3, 16; 6, 19; 2 Cor 6, 16)(324) in virtue of their heroic sanctity, now dwell in Heaven, but who once lived on earth. Objects which belonged to the Saints, such as personal objects, clothes and manuscripts are also considered relics, as are objects which have touched their bodies or tombs such as oils, cloths, and images.’ Paragraph no. 236.

[5] According to Catechism # 1677, “Sacramentals are sacred signs instituted by the Church. They prepare men to receive the fruit of the sacraments and sanctify different circumstances of life.” (467)

[6] Catechism of the Catholic Church. Part II, Chapter 4, Article 1, Reference #1675 (New York: Doubleday, 1995). 466.

[7] Congregation for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments. “Directory on Popular Piety and the Liturgy: Guidelines and Principles.” Par. 237.

[8] Catechism of the Catholic Church. #947-8.

[9] Prof. Deeana Klepper. Department of Religion, Boston University. Course: Fall 2007, RN 307/607/STH TX 817 Medieval Christianity (M, W, F 12:00-1:00 P.M). Guide to Week V: Saints, Relics and Pilgrimage. <http://people.bu.edu/dklepper/RN307/guidev.html>.

[10] Term Klepper quotes from scholar Peter Brown.

[11] Klepper’s notes.

[12] Klepper’s notes.

[13] Klepper’s Notes

[14] Angenedt. “Relics and their veneration in the middle ages.” 30.

[15] Klepper’s notes.

[16] Angenedt. “Relics and their veneration in the middle ages.” 30.

[17] Daniel A. Callus, O.P. “The Condemnation of St. Thomas at Oxford.” Aquinas Papers, No. 5. The Aquinas Society of London. The Newman Bookshop: Westminster and Maryland, 1946. 9.

[18] Callus, 10.

[19] Callus, 4.

[20] “hylomorphism.” Encyclopædia Britannica. 2009. Encyclopædia Britannica Online. 21 May. 2009 <http://www.britannica.com/EBchecked/topic/279305/hylomorphism>.

[21] “Binarium Famosissimum.” Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. Jun 16, 2008. Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy Online. 21 May 2009. <http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/binarium/>.

[22] “Binarium Famosissimum.” Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy.

[23] Callus, 10.

[24] Callus, 10.

[25] Callus, 11.

[26] Callus, 11.

[27] Callus, 20.

[28] Callus, 20.

[29] Callus, 21.

[30] Callus, 22.

[31] The condemnation in 1277 was issued by the Bishop of Paris Stephen Tempier, and the

Archbishop of Canterbury Robert Kilwardy, condemned some theses of Thomas Aquinas. Yet, as Kowalczyk notes, “At the end of the thirteenth and beginning of the fourteenth century, Aristotelianism and Thomism gained more and more recognition in the Church, and so the victory of Augustinianism in its current version after the condemnation of Thomism was short-lived.” (Stanislaw Kowalczyk. “Augustinianism.”)

[32] Stanislaw Kowalczyk. “Augustinianism.” PEF – © Copyright by Polskie Towarzystwo Tomasza z Akwinu. Accessed 20 May 2009. <http://ptta.pl/pef/haslaen/a/augustinianism.pdf>.

[33] Stanislaw Kowalczyk. “Augustinianism.”

[34] John Saward. “The Fresh Flowers Again. St. Bonaventure and the Aesthetics of Resurrection.” 10 April 2009. Accessed 21 May 2009. < http://www.christendom-awake.org/pages/jsaward/fleshflowers.htm.>.

[35] Bonaventure believes in a variation of Aristotelian thought known as “universal hylomorphism,” which infers that not only corporeal beings are composed of form and matter, but that there are two kinds of composites, corporeal and spiritual. (Christopher M. Cullen. Bonaventure. Oxford University Press US, 2006. 45).

[36] Cullen, 53.

[37] Ibid., 53.

[38] Cullen, 53.

[39] Ibid., 53.

[40] Ibid., 54.

[41] Ilia Delio. Simply Bonaventure: Simply Bonaventure: An Introduction to His Life, Thought, and Writings. New City Press, 2001. 70.

[42] Angenedt. “Relics and their veneration in the middle ages.” 30.

[43] Based off of Psalm 51.10 in the thought of St. Augustine and Bonaventure, this passage from the psalms cited in Carolyn Walker Bynum’s Wonderful Blook, pg. 117, was used as a proof text that neither a saint’s physical or spiritual matter would face corruption because of their holy state.

[44] Bynum, pg. 117.

[45] Bynum, 101

[46] John Saward. “The Fresh Flowers Again. St. Bonaventure and the Aesthetics of Resurrection.” 10 April 2009. Accessed 21 May 2009. < http://www.christendom-awake.org/pages/jsaward/fleshflowers.htm.>.

[47] Ibid.

[48] Delio, 75.

[49] Delio, 77.

[50] Delio, 78.

[51] John Saward. “The Fresh Flowers Again. St. Bonaventure and the Aesthetics of Resurrection.” 10 April 2009. Accessed 21 May 2009. < http://www.christendom-awake.org/pages/jsaward/fleshflowers.htm.>.

[52] Ibid.

[53] Ibid.

[54] Copleston. Medieval Philosophy. 99.

[55] Justin Kirry. Descartes and the metaphysics of human nature. 16.

[56] Ibid., 16.

[57] Thomas Aquinas. Summa Theologica. Third Part ,Question 25, Article 1, “I answer that…” Second and Revised Edition, 1920. Literally translated by Fathers of the English Dominican Province. Online Edition Copyright © 2008 by Kevin Knight. Nihil Obstat. F. Innocentius Apap, O.P., S.T.M., Censor. Theol.. Imprimatur. Edus. Canonicus Surmont, Vicarius Generalis. Westmonasterii. APPROBATIO ORDINIS. Nihil Obstat. F. Raphael Moss, O.P., S.T.L. and F. Leo Moore, O.P., S.T.L. Imprimatur. F. Beda Jarrett, O.P., S.T.L., A.M., Prior Provincialis Angliæ. 12 May 2009. <http://www.newadvent.org/summa/4025.htm#article6>.

[58] Ibid., “I answer that…”

[59] Thomas Aquinas. Summa Theologica. Third Part ,Question 25, Article 6, Objection 3.

[60] Ibid., Third Part ,Question 25, Article 1, “I answer that…”

[61] Ibid.

[62] Thomas Aquinas. Summa Theologica. First Part ,Question 66, Article 2, “I answer that…” <http://www.newadvent.org/summa/1066.htm>.

[63] Ibid.

[64] Ibid.

[65] Ibid.

[66] Ibid.

[67] Ibid., “Reply to Objection 4.”

[68] Ibid., “I answer that…”

[69] Brian Davies Thomas Aquinas: Contemporary Philosophical Perspectives. 261

[70] Ibid., “Reply to Objection 4.”

[71] Infromation derived from Daniel A. Callus, O.P’s “The Condemonation of St. Thomas as Oxford,” No. 5 of The Aquinas Society of London Aquinas Papers. The Newman Bookshop: Westminster and Maryland, 1946.

Gillian Cloke, This Female Man of God: Women and Spiritual Power in the Patristic Age, AD 350-450. Hb. London and New York: Routledge, 1995. Pp. Vii, 243. ISBN 978-0-415-09469-6. $135.00.

Caught in the eternal struggle of male versus female authority, the sphere of religious leadership once again reverberates with ancient echoes of spiritual warfare. The historically male-dominated Roman Catholic Magisterium continues to refuse women admission into the most intimate leadership role of the Church, ordination into the priesthood, perpetuating a misogynistic hierocracy, which has defined holiness from male perspective since the earliest ideals of “holiness” began to form through the example of martyrs. Is the traditionally masculine picture of spiritual influence derived from the fears of overwhelmingly male literary legacy of the early Church against a depraved female nature? Were men truly the sole perpetrators of doctrine, which evidence the evolution of the Church through masculine social movement? Focusing on the transitional period between martyrdom and empiric rule when asceticism reigned as the definitive standard of personal holiness, Gillian Cloke unveils the influence of women on the Patristic writers of AD 350-450, reasserting the crucial role women played in defining and exemplifying even the most severe forms of ascetic holiness through male literary mutilation of the female sex.

Seeking to answer how women were deemed worthy of the designation of “ holiness,” Cloke introduces her quest for an authentic voice of Patristic women through a comparison of exclusively male-authored classical and Christian historical depictions of women (1-12). In the context of patriarchal Rome, Christian heroines are strikingly similar to classically-deemed disgraceful women: abandoning male-defined paradigms of womanhood, the women most lauded by the Church Fathers ardently practiced spiritual devotions espoused by the Fathers to male practitioners. By noting that her examination encompasses material from not only anecdotal cameos and legends of saintly women, Cloke uncovers feminine influence in its explicit scarcity through a variety of sources. Juxtaposing social perceptions of women disclosed in medical notes, legal asides, epigraphs, letters, tombstones and inscriptions onto the ecclesiastical writings noted for their significant sway of contemporary Patristic thought (13-24),Cloke derives a strongly active image of women through the eyes of their male critics and admirers, while noting limitations of this method.

Finding women as the source of much male inspiration, Cloke reassembles the theoretical Patristic perspective of womanhood as incapable of holiness due to the introduction of original sin at the hand of a woman (25-56). In order to deny this inherently polluted female nature, Patristic writers encouraged celibacy to both men and women. Female piety was more unforgivably judged than male by the presence or absence of a fully sexual marriage. Demonstrating the significance of sexuality to female holiness, Cloke discovers women relegated to a life of consecrated virginity in order to achieve esteem above the depraved state of womanhood (57-81). Virgins were assigned a paradoxical role to their limited public sphere of spiritual conduits for not only specific families, but the Church and Christian spirituality at large. While consecrated virginity rebelled against the societal role of women as reproductive beings, widowhood was embraced as an acceptable form of renunciation (82-99).

Given more public maneuverability than virgins, widows over the age of sixty who remained univira, devoted to their dead husbands in celibacy, were given ecclesiastical duties of prayer and ministering to virgins and other women. Though unable to attain the same socio-spiritual merit as virgin, Cloke notes that widowhood as a sexually renounced order was still more esteemed that incontinent marriage. Married women were considered the lowest order of devout women, though if in a state of sexual renunciation, Patristic writers acknowledged married women as capable of piety (100-133). Able to persuade husbands to conform to the sanctified standard of sexual renunciation or not, the very silent humility of a submissive wife was witnessed to win over many husbands, as seen in the example of Augustine’s own mother, Monica.

Christian wives were influential not only in the conversions of their husbands, but also strongly inspirational to the spiritual lives of their children. While many of the Fathers were directly impacted by maternal spirituality, seen in Augustine whose conversion was a product of his mother’s persistent prayer, this effect was most directly evidenced in the lives of daughters (134-156). Through the Patristic confession that some married women jointly held pious devotion as well as worldly devotion, Cloke finds expansion for the female sphere of influence beyond the moral states of their families to manipulation of power in the social sphere as well. Branching beyond these three “offices” afforded to women, Cloke notes that women sought to manufacture new standards by which to be judged apart from their performance as sexual and reproductive beings in devotional vocations (157-211).

Examining the relationship of independently minded aristocratic women with Fathers, Cloke traces the feminine use of resources such as wealth, contacts, and lineage to circumvent gender restrictions and forge new roles for themselves in symbiosis with the Patristic writers. Non-elite women earned their designation as “holy” through the same defiant attitudes of their aristocratic sisters, confronting the Church and clerics from the desert rather than urban settings. In each case, Cloke indicates that female authoritative innovations rarely outlived the women who introduced particularly feminine strains of leadership the male religious culture, inevitably yielding womanly-acquired leadership to the male officials of church hierarchy.

In her concluding chapter, Cloke reasserts that since women in the Patristic theory were responsible for the destruction of God’s image through sin, women could not attain holiness as women in spite of all their piety (212-221). Adopting societal-determined male devotions of the ascetic life such as sexual renunciation and detachment from worldly concerns, the Fathers lauded women as “male,” having negated female nature through masculine piety. Though fundamentally negative about theoretical positions of feminine holiness, the personal relationships of Fathers with women on each level of hierarchical strata evidence individual exceptions to the standard of sexual renunciation, but in each instance of praise, Patristics deny women the right to be holy as women, praising them rather as men.

Cloke provides a revealing antithesis of feminine presence in the Patristic era, sorting through the words and lives of the Patristic Fathers in a risky endeavor to disclose a more realistic image of obscurely presented femininity. Cloke manipulates the uncertain margin of error in depicting influential women through predominantly male documents to demonstrate the profound affectedness of female spirituality on the Patristic writers’ lives and literature. “These great men of their age were bought and sold by women,” Cloke poignantly emphasizing the femininity of the environment which surrounded and directed the Fathers’ thought processes. Expanding this theme throughout her work, Cloke painstakingly delves into each phase of the female life: virginity, maternity, and widowhood, contrasting Patristic stance to actual interaction of Fathers to women in all such circles. While delineating the evolution of a female holiness within the male ascetic ideal, Cloke stays true to her emphasis on aristocratic women’s influence, which most resoundingly moved the Fathers. Balancing the scope of power amongst women, Cloke is mindful not to neglect the inspiration of non-elitist ascetic women, who continued their socio-religious rebellion in the desert while affecting the most urban of movements amongst (I liked the first old spelling but the second rings wrong) women.

The debate on ordination that was recent in 1995 at the publishing of This Female Man of God remains a current subject of contention for progressive female Catholic Christians, eliciting conversation on issues of holiness and gender equality pervading female spiritual experience beyond the confines of ordination. Questioning the presuppositions of the Fathers and shedding light on their experimentally formed perspective, Cloke indicates the socially-constructed perspective of human holiness. Creatively demonstrating how each form of feminine piety was alienated from the context of womanhood as “male” in Patristic spirituality, I feel this work probes beyond the social spirituality of religion to the bare constructs of female belief: are we going to allow others to define or reject our spiritual practices as holy, or will we, like the innovative Mothers of our faith, use the resources at our disposal to distinguish new sacred spaces of our own, so that we are no longer dependent upon the Patristic paradigm of male holiness versus female unholiness?

Cloke’s work provides a detailed foundation upon which further innovation into issues of women’s spirituality might be delved. Continuing the subject of feminine leadership within Church contexts, what perpetuates adherence to fifth century ideals for female holiness (seen in the Roman Catholic context in the virginity of Mary) and why do feminine attempts at particularizing holiness to women continue to oppose female leadership? Future works by feminist scholars find Cloke’s depiction of 5th and 6th century womanly holiness directly applicable to current conceptions and beliefs concerning feminist spirituality.

Dominican School of Philosophy and Theology, Berkeley                         Hannah Marie Mecaskey

Digesting the first readings for my basic Catholic ethics course, Fundamentals of Moral Theology, I attempted to understand the complexity of Emmanuel Kant’s deontological system of ethics. As a precursor, here’s a bit about what deontological ethics wonders: What’s the rule, what’s the principle, what binds us? Overarching category is that of obligation. Task is find the rule and obey it. Law tends to be abstract, impersonal, and universal (or thus it claims). Tends to carry an implicit claim of authority: Who set the rule and makes it binding? Sometimes the authority is God; sometimes it is pure, abstract reason. With Emmanuel Kant, this man lived a routine life directed and dictated by staunch laws. For Kant, human nature is flawed because while we have the capacity to reason, we are not merely pure reason, we have bodies too, and with our bodies we have impulse, desire, emotion, feeling. All four of these are threatening to morality, because they might cause us to act outside of pure reason.

When reading Kant, I was amused at how close his ideal for a perfect world is to what I have made myself. At least what I used to try and make myself… and it seemed extremely mechanical. Yet Kant would disagree, saying that impulse and desire enslave the human soul to animal-like existence, while the perfect human would be so versed in the exercise of his reasonableness, that he would act purely out of duty rather than commit any action merely from desire. In fact, Kant harshly condemns sympathies as selfish and movement out of what he terms “pathological” love (anything having to do with feeling) as not ethical. Good will is the criteria for any action to be considered ethical, to Kant, but he is very specific about the definition of good will, saying it is good “simply by virtue of volition, that it is good in itself and considered by itself is to be esteemed much higher than all that can be brought together by favor of any inclination…” The action, then, cannot be done for the sake of another goal, but must be considered an end in itself, good because it is done, done in obedience to the ethical rule of reason. Thus Kant takes on what sounds to me like a rather Gnostic perspective of humanity… saying we are freed from all empirical distractions by obedience to pure reason.

It would be easy to critique the entire method by which Kant complexly unfolds his theory, which says that ethical action should not be confused with desire to act out of sympathy; We are supposed to act merely as duty requires… duty being obedience to the most supreme reason. For Kant, reason is almost synonymous with God; Reason is abstract truth, if God is truth, is God abstraction? Everything He says must be reasonable, and all He says is good. If a law does not abide reason, it is not good, one can overrule it from personal autonomy. Kant states that will is enacting practical reason—that to choose which reason alone defines necessary as good. Accordingly, preeminent good exists in nothing other than Law in itself; an abstract concept of good. For Kant, good only counts when in line with reason, only possible in rational beings, and motivation for act is all that matters: not consequences, feelings, happiness (because they are subjective). What I am chiefly concerned with in my analysis of Kant’s categorical imperative, his utmost definition of ethicalness, is whether or not it is truly loving.

Consider these aspects of the categorical imperative, the action or intention done as an end in itself; what consequences follow that idea, what sort of people does it create? I submit a suggestion of a doctrine of selfishness, not akin to Ayn Rand, because it seeks an almost utilitarian good by finding the best for all by each person attending to his duties. Sure that includes some sort of obligation to others, but only to Kant in as much as befits treating man as an end in himself: “Now humanity might indeed subsist, although no one should contribute anything to the happiness of others, provided he did not intentionally withdraw from it…” suggesting a negative golden rule (don’t remember the philosophical lingo for it)… rather than obligating human interaction with one another, and duty being neglected without relationship. Kant thinks that humans promote a common good by remaining preoccupied with themselves rather than trying to forward the end of others. I am baffled… love cannot be a mere action of the will; I know this and struggle with it at the same time, in all my disembodied Gnostic tendencies.

Kant gives me a picture of myself and my own pattern of thinking so clearly that I must reject it because its rather awful. He rejects love “as an affection, (because it) cannot be commanded..” and love must be an act “seated in the will, and not in the propensions of sense.” Part of this sounds right and good to me; but then at the same time, I cannot continue in my denial of love evoking something which goes beyond the exercise of will, which of course might be first done out of a sense of duty (I used to qualify conditions for love with feelings and circumstance). Yet there is something about emotion that cannot remain disengaged in real love, true Jesus-like spiritual love. It isn’t just spiritual, though… it encompasses all that a person is. That is something I will be working on this semester, the idea of being and how we humans need to be loved in like of what we have in the image of God. While I appreciate some of Kant’s aspects of thought, his ethic is far to cold to fit my understanding of love. Another thought, not Kantian, “our love is not a victory march, it’s a cold and it’s a broken hallelujah…” sometimes that might be all I can say to Jesus, but I adore Him. And more than just my spirit, all my being. May I learn to love all people more, however Jesus managed the negotiable balance between both feeling and thought, I dedicate myself to that sort of loving.