In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Technology and Our Relationship with GodAnselm Ramelow O.P.God's Original Plan and the FallTechnology may appear to be a very secular thing, but to assume that technology can be understood without God would be a mistake. Technology is deeply involved in our relationship with God. This involvement is, moreover, profoundly ambivalent.1To begin with the positive side of this ambivalence: the growing awareness of the dangers of technology should not lead (...) Christians to think that technology is necessarily a bad thing. It is, in fact, not even merely a "necessary evil." Rather, we can find in the use of technology an unfolding of our God-given rational nature. If we believe that God "made us in his image and likeness," then this quite directly implies two things: (1) God is a maker (he made us), and (2) since he made us in his image and likeness, we are makers as well. The making of technology thus reflects our dignity as made in the image and likeness of God.2 Accordingly, the Church has been more positive towards the development of technology than one might expect, and some of our technologies (e.g., agricultural, architectural, and time-keeping technologies) have their roots in medieval monasteries.3 [End Page 159]We should therefore expect that Adam and Eve, had they not fallen, nevertheless would have become makers of technology in some form or other. They would have exhibited inventiveness and tool use, though perhaps not a tool use focused on warding off evil (which did not exist in Eden), but concerned with promoting positive forms life, such as tools of art and communication. Art and communication technologies are, like all tools, means to an end; but these in particular contain their ends in themselves. In Aristotelian terms, their making (poiesis) concerns a praxis (such as "making conversation"). That is why we sometimes forget to list such technologies among our typical examples of technologies. We forget, for example, that, among the technologies of communication, language as a physical tool (sounds or written marks) is an obvious example. And it is a prelapsarian feature: the book of Genesis has Adam naming things before the Fall. In doing so, Adam echoes God's own creative "technique" of speaking or calling things into being.4 Even in its oral form, language is a matter of human making and a technology of communication. In paradise, communication would not have been merely instrumental, not merely a means, but an intrinsic good, embodying knowledge and intersubjective communion.Other forms of prelapsarian technology, however, are a matter of speculation. And whether or not one agrees with Jacques Ellul's thesis that there was no such prelapsarian technology,5 the ambivalence of technology is clear from the very beginning as well. This is at least what we see in the book of Genesis. For, as a matter of biblical record, it was Cain and his descendants who founded cities and developed technology (e.g., Tubal-Cain as the "forger of all instruments of bronze and iron" in Gen 4:22). And the history [End Page 160] of these urban civilizations does not display the best part of human behavior. But if, as we have said, technology is not necessarily a bad thing, then this must be a corruption of technology. What might this corruption consist in?I want to suggest that it consists precisely in the corruption of our relationship with God, from which technology can never abstract and in which it is, for better or for worse, embedded. Unsurprisingly, therefore, as technology progresses, this relationship becomes more and more explicit, and it does so in a paradoxical way: initially, it is an attempt to put humanity in charge and control, to replace our need for reliance on God by allowing us to play God ourselves. But in our current situation, particularly with the emergence of artificial intelligence (AI) and machine learning, the roles appear reversed: rather than putting humanity in charge, technology in turn is increasingly in control—to the point of becoming itself a god or idol that rules human life. As a result, we only end up having replaced one God with another... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Benedict XVI: A Life. Volume 2, Professor and Prefect to Pope and Pope Emeritus 1966–The Present by Peter SeewaldEmil AntonBenedict XVI: A Life. Volume 2, Professor and Prefect to Pope and Pope Emeritus 1966–The Present by Peter Seewald, translated by Dinah Livingstone (London: Bloomsbury Continuum, 2021), viii + 568 pp.What better way to spend Pope Benedict XVI's ninety-fifth birthday (which turned out to be his last) than by (...) visiting his birth house in Marktl am Inn at his birth minute—4.15 AM! In addition to five Finnish pilgrims, twenty or so local grandmas and grandpas attended the now-traditional early morning prayer, which this year fell on Holy Saturday, the very liturgical day on which Joseph Ratzinger was born and baptized. Other destinations on a do-it-yourself Ratzinger pilgrimage included Freising (studies and ordination), Regensburg (professorial years), Altötting (favorite Marian sanctuary), childhood villages and towns (Tittmoning, Aschau am Inn, Hufschlag, Traunstein), and of course Munich (seminary and episcopal years), with beer, good food, and Apfelstrudel at the Augustiner Klosterwirt.Such a trip is highly recommended, even though there were no Ratzinger books in the "Theology" section of University of Regensburg's bookshop, reflecting his persona non grata status in German academia. In Altötting, however, Peter Seewald's magnificent biography was on offer, as well as icon-like pictures of Pope Benedict and candles with his image on them—good for both admirers and critics!In English, Seewald's biography is divided into two volumes (for my review of volume 1, see Nova et Vetera [English] 20, no. 3), the second one comprising three parts: (1) professor, (2) prefect, and (3) Pope. The book was certainly worth the wait and does not disappoint: the research and analysis are excellent, the style is enjoyable, and interesting new details are revealed, such as the "endless outbursts of crying" and "violent quarrels with cardinals" of "popess" (as the housekeeper was called in the curia) Ingrid Stampa, who "kept Ratzinger's diary, edited official speeches and even decided who could meet the Holy Father" (351).As a journalist, Seewald is especially strong on the German press coverage [End Page 285] of Ratzinger. During his time as archbishop of Munich, "Ratzinger took part so frequently in the public debate that the Süddeutsche Zeitung feared that it would be a 'big shock' for millions of Upper Bavarian Catholics if his name did not appear in any edition of the four Munich daily papers" (109). Ratzinger's predominantly negative media image seems to stem to a great extent from the actions of Hans Küng. Asked about the cancellation of Küng's missio canonica at a youth event in 1979, Ratzinger said off the cuff that it was right, since Küng was actively disputing essential doctrines of the Catholic Church (128). The comments were published without authorization, which led to Küng accusing Ratzinger of "falling back on pre-conciliar customs of heresy-hunting, insinuation and defamation" (129). After the publication of Vittorio Messori's The Ratzinger Report in 1985, Küng "crashed in with a sweeping blow in the Hamburg weekly Die Zeit" (170), not failing to bring up his "litany of complaints: the 'case of Galileo,' the 'Chinese rites controversy,' 'putting all the most important European thinkers on the Index (Descartes, Kant, Sartre etc.),' '9 million victims of witch trials'" (171). According to Seewald, this momentous article, ending with the claim that Ratzinger was "afraid of the truth more than anything else," provided the endlessly reproduced media image of the prefect.Seewald singles out the Bild journalist Andreas Englisch as a striking example of the kind of deliberate manipulation typical of so-called expert reporters. After Benedict XVI's election, Englisch admitted with apparent remorse that, in previous reporting, in order to make John Paul II's "light shine more brightly," he had "needed an enemy to make the story more dramatic" (192). Seewald continues: "However, Englisch had no scruples about later applying his business model to books about Pope Francis, whom he raised almost to heaven, in order finally to shove the retired Benedict XVI down to hell" (192... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The Light That Binds: A Study in Thomas Aquinas's Metaphysics of Natural Law by Stephen L. BrockBrian BesongThe Light That Binds: A Study in Thomas Aquinas's Metaphysics of Natural Law by Stephen L. Brock (Eugene, OR: Pickwick, 2020), xv + 277 pp.Fr. Stephen L. Brock is arguably one of the most important contemporary contributors to the Thomistic understanding of natural law. Hence, the publication of his updated and (...) revised doctoral dissertation on the topic [End Page 289] of the metaphysics of natural law in St. Thomas will be gladly received by Thomistic scholars and moral theorists alike. In The Light That Binds, Brock's central task is to explain the metaphysics of the promulgation of natural law in man. Put differently although extant literature on natural law may be useful for action analysis—why lying is always wrong, say—less attention has been paid to the way in which natural law has been promulgated by God and is present in the human intellect. What literature is available, either as an explanation of St. Thomas or as criticism of the same, has failed to do Aquinas justice, so Brock argues.The book comprises seven chapters and an introduction. In the first chapter, Brock's central goal is to survey the ways in which (especially more recent) commentators of Aquinas have distorted the sense in which natural law constitutes genuine law, as well as the relationship between natural law and God. For, there is a line of thought on natural law, particularly prominent in the "new natural law" tradition, according to which the principles at the heart of the theory do not fully satisfy the four criteria of legitimate law given by Aquinas. Rival views have natural law constituting a real law, but in virtue of an epistemically explicit reliance on God as lawgiver, among other distortions. Figureheads surveyed in the chapter include Dom Odon Lottin, Ernest Fortin, and Francisco Suárez, among others.In the second chapter, Brock outlines and defends his positive view regarding the legal status of the natural law by way of continued discussion of Lottin, particularly Lottin's contention that St. Thomas was heavily influenced by a mid-thirteenth-century Franciscan tract, De legibus et praeceptis. Brock argues that St. Thomas conceives of natural law as having an even closer relationship to eternal law than is posited by the earlier Franciscan tract, and the rest of the chapter is largely focused on unpacking this close relationship. In sum, natural law is law because it involves a rational ordering by God of our intellect to the goods of our nature, a human participation in an eternal ordering of all things to their ends (i.e., the eternal law). We need not discover the source of the ordering—namely, God—in grasping the first principles of his ordering, as Brock explains here and elsewhere. But the strictly legal status of the principles requires that natural law comes from a legitimate authority, among other essential elements.Chapters 3 and 4 tackle the more human side of the metaphysics of natural law. More concretely, in these chapters, Brock explains the wheres and the whats of our possession of the natural law. For, not all ordering of objects to ends implies the sort of normativity we see in the natural law. Brute animals, among others, have natural inclinations too, and yet they are not governed through these instinctual drives by a natural law. Natural law [End Page 290] is present preeminently in the human intellect, Brock argues, and is not to be confused with the prerational drives that we share as part of our animal nature. God instills these rational drives—the light, as it were—into reason in such a way that an individual can grasp its force autonomously, as basic conceptional truths about what right and wrong consist in (72). Here it would have been nice for Brock to reflect briefly on how Aquinas's views on moral knowledge fit within his broader epistemological commitments, as the natural (conceptual) knowledge of right and wrong at first glance shares common ground with the Franciscan tradition on divine illumination as found in figures... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Theology, Philosophy, and Biology:An Interpretation of the Conception of Jesus ChristJuan Eduardo CarreñoIntroductionA large body of literature and a vigorous academic establishment—university chairs, foundations, societies, and journals—focus on an interdisciplinary field variously described as "science and religion," "science and faith," or "science and theology."1 "Philosophy" is a recent occasional addition which turns these dyads into triads.2 However, not only the terms themselves but also the ways their relationship are (...) understood have generated debate. Indeed, Ian Barbour's well-known typology defining four canonical modes of the science-religion relationship—conflict, independence, dialogue, and integration—has played an organizing role but has not satisfied everyone.3 Although our purpose here is not to recapitulate these discussions, it might be helpful to mention an issue that frequently arises within them: whether Barbour's classification is necessarily exhaustive, and in particular, if what he understands by "integration" is really the perfect culmination of a link that could connect science and faith. Thus, some authors prefer to speak of [End Page 71] "interaction," "compatibility," or "articulation" to describe this relationship, either replacing or superimposed upon Barbour's integration modality.4We believe that at least part of this series of controversies results from the lack of fundamental definitions and distinctions. "Science" is not univocal but an analogous term, since it can be predicated both from extremely diverse disciplines and also from a cognitive act, a habit, or a corpus of knowledge.5 On the other hand, "faith," "religion," and "theology" have neither identical meanings nor even an analogous epistemic scope in different religious traditions. All this outlines a problem whose many edges cannot be enclosed within the margins of a categorization, however nuanced.This article aims to illustrate the complexity of the relationship between science, philosophy, and theology, using as a case study the contribution of contemporary embryology and developmental biology to theological reflection on the Incarnation of Jesus Christ. We begin by examining some theological hypotheses that, using the biological knowledge and speculations of their time, attempt to deepen our understanding of the mystery of the incarnate Word. Next, we propose an interpretation of the conception of Jesus Christ, in which the facts contributed by biology could enrich, and perhaps illuminate, certain aspects of theological reflection. As we will argue, this encounter does not fit the integration model described in Barbour's typology, because, among other reasons, the discourses at stake—theological and biological—neither belong to the same epistemological plane nor play an equivalent role in this relationship.Some Hypotheses about the Conception of JesusInterestingly, from as early as its antecedents in ancient Egypt, the genesis and development of mankind inevitably intersects with religious beliefs. This trend is projected in Judaism and reaches its greatest realization, for reasons partly understandable, in the Christian tradition. Of course, an authentic religious worldview cannot avoid at least some mention of human [End Page 72] ontogenesis, but belief in the factual basis of the Incarnation elevates the matter to a new and original plane. This is how it is understood by a number of believers who, from the first centuries of our era, and until recent times, advance hypotheses and models where biological and philosophical knowledge about human conception are combined, in different proportions, with Christological notions and doctrines. The account offered here is not intended to be exhaustive; our interest is only in outlining certain theological interpretations that have arisen in the course of history, as precursors to those discussed in the next section.The Conception of Jesus and the Incarnation of the WordOrigen's position regarding preexistence of the soul (proyparxis) and its union with the human body as a result of a fall attracted many philosophical and theological objections in the centuries following.6 Once this alternative was rejected, however, several paths remained open to account for human generation. The "translationist" hypothesis (according to which the human soul, like the body, derives from the parents through the act of natural procreation) had its Eastern adherents but seemed to find itself at home in the West. This reception was undoubtedly influenced by the plausibility the Bishop of Hippo, Augustine, albeit hesitantly assigned to... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The Three Pillars of Catholic EducationArchbishop Salvatore CordileoneIntroductionOn February 13, 1999, then-Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger visited St. Patrick's Seminary and University in Menlo Park, California. He gave a lecture entitled, "Faith and Culture." Pope St. John Paul II had only back in September of the previous year published his momentous encyclical Fides et Ratio. Purposely placing his own remarks under the umbrella of that encyclical, Cardinal Ratzinger used the opportunity (...) at St. Patrick's Seminary to discuss the growing relativism which was even at that time eroding our culture.He began his lecture by using an example from C. S. Lewis's great work The Screwtape Letters. The future Pope remarked:This book consists of fictional letters from a senior devil who is giving advice on how best to proceed to one beginning in the work of leading men astray. The younger devil has expressed concern to his superior that especially intelligent people, in particular, might read the books of wisdom of the ancients and might thus come upon the track of the truth. Screwtape calms him by pointing out that the "Historical point of View," with which the intellectuals of the Western world have fortunately been inculcated by the devils, means in fact that "when a learned man is presented with any statement in an ancient author, the one question he never asks is whether it [End Page 7] is true. He asks who influenced the ancient writer, and how far the statement is consistent with what he said in other books, and what phase in the writer's development, or in the general history of thought, it illustrates, and how it affected other writers," and so on.1The startling truth is that now, almost twenty-five years later, what Cardinal Ratzinger articulated back in 1999 has only crystallized. In almost every area of our culture, the notion of truth has receded due to the acidic encroachment of relativism. As a culture we have given up on any hope of finding truth and instead consigned reality to something that is determined by the individual. We see the extent to which this relativism has taken hold of our culture in the now-famous words of Supreme Court Justice Anthony Kennedy: "At the heart of liberty is the right to define one's own concept of existence, of meaning, of the universe, and of the mystery of human life."2 In this breathtaking statement, Justice Kennedy seemingly makes irrelevant the entire history of Western civilization. The irony, of course, is that it is precisely the course of Western philosophy and thought which has steered the culture in such a direction that it could produce a Supreme Court justice who would articulate such a bewildering statement. For we do not, nor can we, exist in a philosophical vacuum. And such is the great irony of this moment that we occupy—it is on the ash heap of Western civilization that relativists stand attacking the very history which brought them to be there in the first place.Given this sad reality, we can see Cardinal Ratzinger's criticism from 1999 as a clarion call, and as prophetic in describing what has transpired in the decades since. The complete dominance of relativism in all its forms demands that we return to the primacy of truth. But it is not only unfettered relativism that necessitates this return to truth. The return to the splendor of truth becomes all the more important for us as Christians. As the First Letter of St. Peter makes clear, the Christian is to purify his soul by obedience to the truth (1 Pet1:22). And in the Gospel of St. John, we are told that Christ is the true Light who enlightens all, and who gives the power to become children of God to those who receive him (John 1:9–11).In this vein, I would like to present what I believe is the strength of Catholic education and the need to restore a truly Catholic vision. To this end, I believe Cardinal Ratzinger was correct in his forecast of the repercussions of bracketing out truth from our culture. While the broader repercussions of... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The Christ Who Meets Us in the Sacraments:The Influence of St. Ambrose on the tertia pars of St. Thomas's Summa theologiaeDamian Day O.P.IntroductionThe recent increased interest in St. Thomas Aquinas and the Fathers of the Church has produced a number of excellent studies of the Angelic Doctor's understanding of the authority of the Fathers and his use of them.1 In this article, I hope to contribute to the ongoing (...) study of Aquinas and the Fathers by examining how Thomas employs St. Ambrose in the tertia pars of his Summa theologiae [ST]. Thomas's use of Ambrose has received little detailed [End Page 103] attention. One of Leo Elders's last contributions to the study of Aquinas and the Fathers provided an overview of Ambrose's presence in Thomas's writings.2 I hope to expand upon Elders's work of cataloging and describing Thomas's numerous citations of Ambrose—Thomas names Ambrose over eleven hundred times in his writings3—by making a particular argument about Thomas's Christological and sacramental use of Ambrose. While Elders gives an excellent summary of where Ambrose appears in Thomas's corpus, he does not connect Thomas's use of Ambrose in his treatises on Christ and the Eucharist. I argue that Thomas's citations of Ambrose in the tertia pars help him develop an understanding of the Incarnation that supports his sacramental realism, especially emphasizing contact with Christ in the Eucharist.4Much recent reflection on the Eucharist has sought to deemphasize the substantial presence of Christ and emphasize his presence in other ways. Michael C. McGuckian, for example, argues that the Western emphasis on Christ's presence in the Blessed Sacrament has damaged the understanding of participation in the heavenly liturgy and obscured other ways in which Christ is present, such as in the bishop presiding and the proclamation of the word. He claims that "those other presences surpass the presence in the elements in their personal quality, their dynamic force and their effect on our [End Page 104] spirits and are not to be undervalued."5 Looking at Thomas and Ambrose, we will see that Christ's substantial presence in the Eucharist is preeminently personal, dynamic, and efficacious for our spirits. Colman O'Neill's masterful work of sacramental realism, Meeting Christ in the Sacraments, provides an entrée into such a study. The title derives from Ambrose. In his work A Defense of the Prophet David to Theodosius Augustus, Ambrose reflects on Psalm 51. Suddenly, in the middle of confessing his sins, David foresees the cleansing sacrament of baptism. In prophetic wonder, he cries out, "face-to-face you have shown yourself to me, Christ; I have discovered you in your sacraments."6 Even prior to their institution, David prophetically glimpses what the sacraments of the Old Law prefigure. In this vision, David sees "no longer in shadow, nor in figure, nor in type," but meets Christ in his sacraments.7 For Ambrose, the sacraments are real encounters with Christ. As O'Neill puts it, "Christ, who was worshipped from afar, comes near and touches the believer; and at his touch power goes out from him."8 For [End Page 105] Thomas, too, one meets Christ in the sacraments.9 While all the sacraments apply the merits of his Passion,10 the Eucharist is the locus par excellence for meeting Christ, since the whole Christ is there contained.11 The encounter is both personal and powerful.While the language of meeting or encountering Christ in the sacraments may seem to echo modern phenomenological philosophy, Thomas grounds the encounter in a realism of the Incarnation.12 His treatment of the encounter with Christ in the sacraments flows from his treatment of the Incarnation.13 Guy-Thomas Bedouelle summed up O'Neill's approach, which reflects Thomas's, as simply stressing, again and again, "that sacramental realism implies that the Church draws its life from the dynamism of the Incarnation itself."14 I argue that Thomas, in drawing his sacramental realism from the Incarnation, employs Ambrose as a key authority. First, I examine Thomas's knowledge and use of Ambrose's works. Second, I... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reason, Passion, and Metaphysics in Bonaventure:Against Hylomorphic EnthusiasmMatthew J. DugandzicIntroductionContemporary commentators on Aquinas's understanding of the passions all agree that reason is supposed to be the ruler of the passions, but they disagree on the character of this rule. Some would ascribe a high degree of freedom to the passions, such that, even though reason is overall the ruler of the passions, sometimes the passions are right to resist (...) this rule.1 Others argue that the passions ought to obey reason slavishly, such that, if any passion is to be virtuous, it must result from "reason's immediate control,... [that is,] reason now commanding this or that passion."2 Many other thinkers would fall somewhere in between these two positions at various points, such that giving a full account of the range of these positions would be quite complicated, but these scholars could also be placed neatly into two categories according to how they would answer the following question: Are virtuous passions only those that arise in response to reason's immediate command, or can other passions be included, such as those that, for example, without [End Page 123] being explicitly commanded to do so by reason, prompt reason to do this or that, or even inform reason about some aspect of an object?3 Until recently, most scholars of Thomas Aquinas would have held the latter position, that the passions sometimes have some positive roles to play in the virtuous life even when they arise in the absence of an immediate command from reason.4 In recent years, however, the number of scholars who maintain the former position, holding that any passion that does not arise in response to reason's immediate command is not virtuous, has been growing.5 [End Page 124]My aim in this article is further to bolster the case of those who hold that, for Aquinas, the only passions that are virtuous are those that arise from reason's immediate command. I will do this by criticizing an argument that is commonly used by those who oppose this position, and which I refer to as "hylomorphic enthusiasm." Generally speaking, the logic of hylomorphic enthusiasm goes like this: Aquinas's understanding of the relationship between passion and reason is rooted in his hylomorphic view of the unity between body and soul, which unity implies that, for him, reason and passion have something of a collegial relationship, whereby reason rules the passions not despotically, but as a ruler who, though in charge, is nevertheless interested in hearing what his subjects have to say. Paul Gondreau, for example, says that, in Aquinas's view, reason rules over the passions as in a "constitutional monarchy," in which "citizens submit to the supreme authority of the monarch, yet without relinquishing all their political rights and privileges."6 For Gondreau, Aquinas's characterization of the relationship between reason and passion was unique for his time, and was due to his similarly unique "hylemorphic [sic] metaphysics of human nature."7 Bonaventure, on the other hand, did not share this hylomorphic view of the relationship between body and soul, but was rather a substance dualist, and so, consequently, he thought that reason cannot rule the passions politically, but can only "'tame' the passions by a kind of exterior imposition, or forced 'submission to reason' [obtemperat ratoini)]."8In sum, the position of the hylomorphic enthusiasts is this: Aquinas's hylomorphic view of the unity of body and soul implies a collegial view of reason's rulership over passion, while Bonaventure's more dualistic view of the relationship between body and soul implies that reason could rule the passions only despotically, rather than politically. There are a number of premises, both implicit and explicit, in this argument. For the sake of focusing this paper, I will choose to focus on two. First, I will focus on the explicit claim that Bonaventure held a dualistic view of the relationship [End Page 125] between body and soul; I maintain that Bonaventure's understanding of the relationship between body and soul is no more dualistic than Aquinas's. Second, an implicit premise of hylomorphic enthusiasm is that having a hylomorphic or... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Picking Up the Pieces of a Shattered Culture:Abandoning Sartre for AquinasR. E. HouserI expect to die in my bed, my successor will die in prison, and his successor will die a martyr in the public square. Then his successor will pick up the shards of a ruined society and slowly help rebuild civilization, as the Church has done so often in human history.—Francis Cardinal George (2010)Here I propose to (...) present a feature of the ethics of Thomas Aquinas, his ethical doctrine of virtue, concentrating on the four cardinal virtues—justice, prudence or good practical judgment, courage, and temperance. Plato first selected them as the four premier virtues, but they go back at least to Homer, for whom wily Odysseus exemplified prudence, warlike Achilles courage, old Nestor justice, Penelope and Telemachus, Odysseus' wife and son, temperance. And I offer them as central to living the morally good life required to "rebuild civilization" in an America that so fair and judicious a man as Cardinal George could call a "ruined society." To see the need for Thomas's solution, we must begin with the problem. Now, all societies depend upon the deep and fundamental ideas of the most important thinkers, prophets and sages, saints, and yes, even philosophers. Their ideas "trickle down" to influence regular folk, like you and me, those who whose hard work actually makes a society thrive, or die. And when those fundamental ideas change, the moral principles of those who embrace those ideas change, and consequently their actions change, and as a result the wider society in which they live changes, for better or worse. Such effects can now be felt across America [End Page 135] by all; but most of us are unaware of the primary intellectual agents of these changes, since they operate at the level of fundamental ideas, not politics or business or day-to-day life. And often their originators have died before the ideas reach full cultural force. So, ignorance of history makes it difficult to deal with present problems caused by those ideas.My first conclusion will be that a major cause of the current coarsening of our culture is the group of ideas of the French philosopher Jean Paul Sartre, even though most Americans have never heard of him, and most of those who recognize his name have not read his works carefully enough to see the connection. Why Sartre? In the honors program at my university, I had a bright young lady of Muslim heritage who had gone to a lycée, one of France's elite classical secondary schools. "Did you read the classics?" "Yes." Expecting Montaigne or Pascal, I asked, "Who?" Her answer: "Sartre." So let us begin with the theory and practice of Sartre and his long-time lover Simone Beauvoir, whose book The Second Sex was an intellectual spark for the women's liberation movement. Then we turn to some real-life examples of Sartrean influence on ourselves and American culture. Finally, for the best remedy for non-Christian and Christian alike, I recommend Aquinas's doctrine of virtue, when taken in its full scope.Sartre's Ethics of Absolute FreedomIn 1946, the year I was born, Sartre gave a lecture to a meeting of French librarians, which became his most popular book, Existentialism is a Humanism. There he laid out the core of his thought about God, humans, and their ethical behavior. Here I arrange his main ideas in an order that facilitates comparison with Aquinas, beginning with his view of human ontology and proceeding to its impact on the four cardinal virtues.Human OntologySartre turned his back on the traditional metaphysical view that every creature is an individual substance defined by a nature or essence it has in common with all other things of that type. In his "first principle of existentialism," Sartre skips over other animate things, plants and animals, and compares humans to inanimate objects:Let us consider... a book or a paper-cutter: here is an object made by an artisan whose inspiration came from a concept.... One cannot postulate a man who makes a paper-cutter but does not know what it is... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Origen and Prophecy: Fate, Authority, Allegory, and the Structure of Scripture by Claire HallMilanna FritzOrigen and Prophecy: Fate, Authority, Allegory, and the Structure of Scripture by Claire Hall (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2021), 195 pp.Origen's (AD 185–255) surviving corpus is studied by scholars across the disciplines of theology philosophy and classics. Drawing from each of these fields, in Origen and Prophecy, Clare Hall applies Origen's self-proposed tripartite exegesis (...) of Scripture, in which verses can be read at a "somatic, psychic, or pneumatic level," to his conceptualization of prophecy [End Page 293] (193). Hall's argument examines the "landscape of pagan, Jewish, and early Christian religiosity" and considers the "whole range of Origen's corpus" in relation to "wider structures and themes in his work" (4, 25). In doing so, Hall presents a compelling analysis embedding Origen's system of exegesis and theology of prophecy within the intellectual history of prophecy in the late classical and early Christian world.In her first few chapters, Hall explores Origen's definitions of prophecy in relation to its Jewish and Greco-Roman influences and his system of scriptural exegesis. Hall remains cognizant of terminology used by classical authors as she describes Origen's word choice, noting, for instance, that he varies his language most when the prophetic validity of the author is in question (9–12). She summarizes Greek, Roman, and Jewish conceptualizations of prophecy, then turns to Scripture and early Christian texts, all of which shape Origen's own "notions of wisdom, knowledge, and prophecy" (20, 29). Hall argues that Origen's On First Principles and homilies on Exodus, Leviticus, and Numbers are underlaid by a coherent exegetical system. Further, she explains, Origen's Commentary on the Song of Songs applies this same system to other forms of knowledge, including prophecy, which has a future-telling sense, a moral sense, and a mystical and revelatory sense (27, 50, 39–45). In her analysis, Hall provides insight into the philosophical and theological foundations for the "revelatory potential of allegory" as understood by Origen and other early Christian authors and carefully distinguishes Origen's own beliefs from the tenets of Origenism (30–31). To strengthen her argument, Hall cites a plethora of secondary scholars on Origen, including Caroline Bammel, Gunnar af Hällström, Robert Hauck, and Ilaria Ramelli (18–25).In her next few chapters, Hall unfolds Origen's system of distinguishing between true and false prophets and his advocacy for the unity of prophecy within Scripture in his response to Marcionism (199, 149–52). Chief among Hall's insightful contributions, however, is her treatment of the complex interrelation of prophecy and human autonomy: within Origen's framework, how does providential foreknowledge permit human free choice? To approach an answer, Hall traces the emerging conception of free will as "freedom of decision" among Greek authors such as Aristotle, Chrysippus and the Stoics, the Platonists, the Epicureans, and Alexander of Aphrodisias, who, she argues, laid the groundwork for Origen's "innovative narrative understanding of free will" in the context of "epistemological considerations surrounding prophecy" (55–71, 75). These sections of her book present a striking glimpse into early Christian departure from the Greek classical tradition, and her exploration of Origen's defense of both free will and [End Page 294] divine foreknowledge opens the door to further research on his theology of conversion and the relation between grace and nature (75–85, 91).While the entirety of her work is thought-provoking, some elements of Hall's presentation of Origen's theology may be open to a critical response by patristic scholars. Throughout her work, Hall consistently characterizes Origen's spiritual readings of Scripture—and prophecy—in direct opposition to its literal readings. For instance, she writes that, for Origen, just as "some verses do not have a somatic reading and cannot be taken literally," some prophecies are intended to be read as "stumbling blocks or riddles for the exegete to ponder," rather than accurate or "coherent" predictions of the future (193, 53). Additionally, Hall ties Origen's insights on prophecy in the Old Testament to his depiction of Christ as the "ultimate content of... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:St. John Henry Newman's Theory of Doctrinal Development and the Synodal Process:A Survey and Concrete ApplicationWilliam B. GoldinGood afternoon, Your Excellencies, Most Reverend bishops, and my brother priests. Firstly, please permit me to say that, while it is certainly an honor to have been invited to speak to you, for which I would like to express my gratitude to my own bishop and our host for this reunion, His (...) Excellency, Bishop Kevin W. Vann, it is also not a little bit daunting. To speak to such an erudite group of clerics, all of whom have a connection to our common alma mater and to the various celebrated universities in the Eternal City, brings back fond memories of my three years at the Casa Santa Maria. During that time, while I would occasionally have the opportunity to preach at Sunday Masses at the Casa, I was always keenly aware that I was not nearly as qualified to do so as many of my listeners. As such, I beg your pardon if I should fail to explain adequately any aspect of this lecture, and I would be grateful for any questions and/or corrections, theological or otherwise, that you may have afterwards.Let us begin with a prayer:In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. [End Page 21]Come, Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of thy faithful, and enkindle in them the fire of thy love. Send forth thy Spirit and they shall be created, and thou shalt renew the face of the earth.Let us pray.O God, who didst inspire thy faithful by the light of thy Holy Spirit, grant that, in the same Spirit we may be truly wise and ever more rejoice in His holy consolation.Through Christ our Lord.Amen.Vergine Immacolata... Aiutateci.Introduction: The Synod on Synodality and Speculation on Doctrinal ChangeIn the late autumn of 2021, Bishop Vann appointed me and my colleague, Mrs. Katie Dawson, our diocesan director of parish faith formation, as the coordinators for the Synod on Synodality in the Diocese of Orange. In this role, we were tasked with bringing to fruition the diocesan phase of the synodal consultation of the faithful here in Orange County. Since last autumn, we have labored to carry out the bishop's synodal plan for this diocese, and I must say that I have been pleasantly surprised with the manner in which the consultation took place, and in its results, notwithstanding my initial reservations both as to the scope of this particular synod and as to the potential risks inherent in such a universal survey. As we all know from diocesan and parochial life, "listening sessions" have a tendency to become "shouting sessions"; and as a thoroughgoing introvert myself, such sessions do not exactly bring joy to my heart. Thankfully, though, my fears were not realized, and the actual experience of our synodal process was almost altogether pleasant.Perhaps surprisingly, one of the fruits of our consultation, which we heard from the majority of the faithful, is their clear desire for doctrinal clarity in their faith journeys. The majority of the People of God in Orange County whom we surveyed do not want to see any doctrinal changes emerge from this synod that could be critiqued for being in serious discontinuity with the [End Page 22] solemnly defined magisterial teaching of the past. Regularly, they expressed to us that, if our "journeying together" is to be authentic and credible, then the continuity of our doctrinal teaching is a matter of no small importance. Indeed, the ability of many to take the Church's faith seriously depends on whether the doctrinal content of that faith seems solid and unshakeable. If the content of our faith can shift substantially in ways that mirror modern shifts in secular thinking, then people can easily critique our faith as being blown about by the winds of change, with no certitude whatsoever. If something taught by the Catholic Church can be true today and false tomorrow, then why is the Catholic Church's message worth listening to at all? What we heard from the overwhelming majority of... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Cross and Creation: A Theological Introduction to Origen of Alexandria by Mark E. TherrienJean-Paul JugeCross and Creation: A Theological Introduction to Origen of Alexandria by Mark E. Therrien (Washington, DC: Catholic University of America Press, 2022), xxii + 303 pp.Although Origen of Alexandria has been misrepresented and maligned since his own lifetime, allies have always arisen to defend him in his stead. Especially after the French Catholic reappraisal (...) of Origen's theology in the twentieth century, the once-dominant interpretation of Origen as a Platonist dressed in Christian garb no longer holds sway among most scholars. As Mark Therrien notes, however, traces of a "metaphysical reductionist" interpretation of Origen, propounded most notably by Adolf [End Page 295] von Harnack, still influences Origenian scholarship (89). Therrien's book vigorously opposes this line of interpretation and provides a rereading of crucial passages in Origen's On First Principles (Peri archōn) and his Commentary on John. In addition to presenting a fresh interpretation of these texts, Therrien also offers an introduction for those who are encountering Origen's theology for the first time. Rather than prefacing with biographical remarks, this book dives straight into Origen's major theological texts, allowing the reader, as Henri de Lubac put it, "to see Origen at work."Therrien operates under the principle that Origen is above all a biblical theologian whose speculation is driven primarily by his commitment to exegesis rather than Platonic presuppositions. Thus, his reading of various controversial excerpts of Origen, particularly from the Peri archōn, pays close attention to the biblical verses that Origen cites, which operate not as mere ornamentation but as the indispensable mechanics of his theology.This book is divided into eight chapters, each of which presents a "fundamental pillar" of Origen's thought: God, Christ, the Holy Spirit, eschatology the soul, the world, the Cross, and deification. Drawing attention to the first two cycles that comprise Origen's Peri archōn, Therrien treats the first cycle as authoritative to Origen's system, since it is here that Origen presents the Church's teaching in a more dogmatic form prior to the zetetic approach of the second cycle. Chapter 1 highlights the anti-Valentinian polemic that contextualizes Origen's account of divine incorporeality and the possibility of genuine knowledge of God. Following the insights of Cyril O'Regan, Therrien notes that an extreme apophaticism led the Valentinian Gnostics to "assimilat[e] God to creaturely categories," as seen in their account of various deities emanating from God as if by a material transfer of substance (36). For Origen, only the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit are absolutely incorporeal, and it is their absolute incorporeality that separates the Trinity from all creatures. Despite this fundamental distinction between the Trinity and creation, Origen affirms that a limited knowledge of God is possible for rational creatures with the caveat that, whenever God is likened analogically to a created reality, the dissimilarity is always greater (38). Therrien contends that, unlike the Gnostics, Origen envisions the material world as the positive and even necessary means for creatures to derive knowledge of God.Chapter 2 focuses on Origen's Christology, especially the primacy of Christ's title "Wisdom," which the author accounts for by explaining the logic behind Origen's exegesis of John's Prologue and Prov 8:22. Long before the Arian controversy of the fourth century, Origen insisted that God is eternally Father and thus generates the Son from all eternity. Origen has often been characterized, however, as arguing that God's eternal status as Creator [End Page 296] necessarily entails the existence of creation ab aeterno. Therrien points out that such a reading conflates Origen's two distinct notions of creation: the foreknown existence of creatures as "sketched and prefigured" in Wisdom from all eternity and the concrete, substantial existence of creatures that begins in time (60). The investigation of Origen's pneumatology in chapter 3 shows how Ps 103 (in the Septuagint) informs Origen's notion of the Holy Spirit as Creator. For Origen, creation is not simply a past event, but is instead a dynamic process: "Created beings must, so to... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The Achievement of David Novak: A Catholic–Jewish Dialogue ed. by Matthew Levering and Tom AngierChristopher KaczorThe Achievement of David Novak: A Catholic–Jewish Dialogue, edited by Matthew Levering and Tom Angier (Eugene, OR: Pickwick, 2021), 360 pp.The Achievement of David Novak: A Catholic–Jewish Dialogue, edited by Matthew Levering and Tom Angier, brings together twelve essays on various aspects of Novak's thought along with a response to each essay by (...) Novak himself. The topics themselves concern whether Jews and Christians worship the same God, suicide, natural law, Pope Pius IX, justice, the sanctity of human life, and supersessionism. Its contributors include senior scholars as well as those at the beginning of their careers. Each essay, arising from some aspect of Novak's vast corpus, is replied to by Novak himself. These replies are instructive, for they show a great teacher at work, responding with nuance and charity to criticisms and always moving the conversation forward in illuminative ways.Levering opens the volume with a contribution about Novak as a master of Jewish–Christian dialogue, indeed, "the greatest master of Jewish–Christian dialogue who has ever lived" (1). Levering highlights the intellectual pedigree of Novak, whose teachers included Abraham Joshua Heschel, Leo Strauss, Yves Simon, Louis Dupré, and Germain Grisez. Jews are called to live according to the revelation to which they are accountable. Christians are called to live according to the revelation to which they are accountable. Neither Jews nor Christians should hold the other group accountable for their distinctive revelation, but neither Jews nor Christians should hide or minimize what they have to offer to the other.Princeton's Robert P. George interviews Novak, revealing something of the origin story shaping decades of dialogue between the rabbi and [End Page 299] Catholic interlocutors, perhaps the most influential of which was Germain Grisez, Novak's dissertation director in the early 1970s at Georgetown University and a colleague in founding the "new natural law" school, along with George's own dissertation director, John Finnis.Melanie Barrett's essay highlights the importance of natural law, a key theme in Novak's work, for a pluralistic and secular milieu. She cites him saying, "Jews ought to encourage non-Jews to pray in public in order to show how much they believe the world, including the political order, is dependent on God" (48). Such public prayer creates more opportunity also for Jews to express their faith in public.Invoking Gottlob Frege's distinction between sense and reference, Francis Beckwith tackles the question of whether the Trinitarian God is the same God as the God of Abraham. Cassius Clay and Mohammed Ali have the same reference, though different senses. Like Novak, Beckwith believes Catholics and Jews worship the same God.John Berkman returns to the subject of much of Novak's early writing, suicide. Berkman's chapter seeks to explore the similarities and differences between Jewish and Catholic views on the topic. Novak's dissertation exploration of Plato's, Aquinas's, and Kant's views was supplemented by his experience working as a rabbi and hospital chaplain at St. Elizabeth's Hospital in Washington, DC, a facility that specializes in treating mental illness. One of Aquinas's arguments against suicide is that it is contrary to proper love of self. In his response to Berkman's essay, Novak highlights that the command "to love your neighbor as yourself" could mean "as you love yourself" or "as you yourself are loved by God" (118).David Elliot, a former student of Novak's, responds to quasi-Marcionite attacks on the manualist tradition by what might be called the "beige moral theologians" of the 1970s. He highlights Novak's insight that "our terror of God's power is mostly sublimated into our reverence for God's wisdom.... It should reappear only when we are tempted to stand up against God in contempt rather than standing before him in awe" (134).Tom Angier, one editor of The Achievement of David Novak, treats the difference between a more typically Scholastic approach to natural law grounded in metaphysics and Novak's theologically formulated approach. But Novak replies, "I tried to... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Christian Social Ethics by Elmar NassAndrzej Dominik KucińskiChristian Social Ethics by Elmar Nass (Lanham, MD: Rowman & Little-field, 2022), 512 pp.In his extraordinarily comprehensive work, Elmar Nass, professor for Christian social sciences and societal dialogue at the Academy for Catholic Theology of Cologne, Germany, delivers with what he promises [End Page 302] in the title of this great opus: it is a real guide to Christian social ethics, (...) including both its foundations and numerous fields of current application. Although the book was first published in Germany and some application parts refer rather to specific discussions in the Teutonic area, as the author himself says in the preface, his general intention to provide a "universal socio-ethical basis for argumentation" and the ambitious attempt to "make this work a starting point for globally effective Christian social ethics" (xiv) are fulfilled, as the book undoubtedly speaks to the universal questions of social ethics, while it invites a search for concrete solutions to regional problems by implementing the corresponding criteria and basic principles. Indeed, the original German perspective, in which the growing emphasis on the ultimate authority of human sciences in theology often leads to a Cinderella-like existence of genuine Christian traditions and proposals based on Revelation, may be understood as a productive challenge which incentives Nass's efforts to re-create a "substantive ethics" that is marginalized in the postmodernity (xviii). However, these efforts are not destined to flow into a kind of restoration or a mere archaeological appreciation of former Catholic propositions. Nass struggles rather for adequate answers corresponding to the present, but answers deeply rooted in the conviction that Christians still have something to say to the world based on their own timeless knowledge.Hence, it is understandable that, in the short introduction, the author first sets out the postmodern contexts of ethical tasks and, while dealing with secular orientations of the present, calls for an ethics that derives from respective views of humanity and society. For Nass, there is no reason to exclude the religious point of view from this dialogue. On the contrary, his anti-secularist programmatic statement—"Imagine there is a God" (xix)—is both courageous and provocative in a scientific world that forbids theology to give orientations to all the people, with the excuse of alleged lack of universalizability In doing this, Nass complies with Jesus's mandate to the disciples to be "leaven" in Matt 13:33 and light and salt of the earth in Matt 5:13 and following (xx). The rationale for addressing and advocating "substantive Christian social ethics" is its rationality and the author's trust in the "healthy democratic culture of debate" (xx), which is, however, understood in terms of dialogue around common values and positions rather than based on mere rules of secular discourse ethics. The chosen Catholic perspective is thereby situated in an ecumenical context and directed to a real dialogue with other competing ethics, both religious and secular, including the disposition to better understanding of one's own views. Out of this approach, Nass will propose some applications of Christian principles of social action. [End Page 303]These purposes determine the clear structure of the work, consisting of three main parts, divided in thirteen singular chapters. Part 1 ("The Mission") revives a concept which—at least under this specific term—is almost completely removed from mainstream theological debates in Germany, especially in ethical context. "Christians are in the world, but not of the world" (1)—that is how Nass begins his argumentation in favor of an indispensable missionary calling within Christianity. In my opinion, it is this part of the volume that deserves the most attention, as it expresses a sound, self-confident Christian awareness of being enabled and invited to do something good for the rest of the world, while starting from one's own metaphysical basis. Nass presents Christian social ethics without any inferiority complex, as if it were something to be hidden in the twenty-first-century world or as if Christians were compelled to merely repeat what the secular world permits them to say. Consequently, Nass addresses from a Christian perspective the question of goodness as... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:On David Bentley Hart's Account of TraditionMatthew LeveringIn Tradition and Apocalypse, David Hart argues that "the concept of 'tradition' in the theological sense, however lucid and cogent it might appear to the eyes of faith, is incorrigibly obscure and incoherent."1 This claim coheres with the New Testament scholar Ernst Käsemann's notion of apocalyptic, as set forth in Käsemann's well known rhetorical questions—to which he answers in the negative—"Has there (...) ever been a theological system which has not collapsed? Have we been promised that we should know ourselves to be in possession of a theologia perennis?"2 For Käsemann, Christian theological "continuity" (if such there is) consists in "the hope of the manifestation of the Son of Man on his way to enthronement"3—Easter hope. Hart follows his own version of this path.Hart contends that he does not intend to overthrow the truth of the Nicene Creed.4 But he bemoans the claims of various Christian communities—Catholic, [End Page 215] Orthodox, Protestant—to have faithfully communicated the Gospel: "All Christian communions of any size or duration have their distinctive traditionalisms, their myths of continuity amidst rupture and rupture amidst continuity, their claims of doctrinal pedigree and of allegiance to the authority of the Christian past."5 Hart rejects all such ecclesial claims of dogmatic continuity and fidelity. Theologically, he deems it impossible for anyone "to say with absolute finality what the one true tradition is."6 Historically, he thinks it impossible to discern any "rational unity within the course of Christian tradition that one could confidently claim has been sustained intact amid the flux of times and cultures."7There are certain rhetorical emphases that stand out as Hart describes his own constructive view of Christian "tradition." He states that tradition is "the constant creative recollection of a promise whose fulfillment and ultimate meaning are yet to be unveiled"—not in the sense that the Church awaits the fullness that is to come and that dogmatic propositions, while true, are always inadequate to divine realities, but in the stronger sense of appealing to "a future apocalyptic horizon where the tradition's ultimate meaning is to be found" and rejecting "any reduction of that final revelation to whatever formulations of belief happen to be available at any given stage of doctrinal development." Hart depicts Christian tradition as an active transmission of a gift that remains fundamentally hidden and unknown. He invokes the image of "the impartation of a gift that remains sealed, a giving always deferred toward a future not yet known." There is a giving, but this giving is "always deferred," its future is "not yet known," and the gift itself "remains sealed." Hart argues that the "gift must remain sealed until the very end, so that the glory will not dissipate into ordinary time, whose atmosphere is incapable of sustaining and nourishing it." Time—history—cannot sustain or nourish the divine gift, and so it must be "sealed" until the end of time; and yet it can be known "in and as" ever-changing, historical tradition.8Tradition accomplishes this handing on of the sealed gift, says Hart, through its "ceaseless flow of... intertwining variations." Hart adds with regard to historicity and to "the animating impulse of the tradition": "Once that vital force has moved on to assume new living configurations, the attempt unnaturally to preserve earlier forms can achieve nothing but... the perfumed repose of a cadaver."9 The "earlier forms" that once [End Page 216] contained the "vital force" must constantly be reconfigured within tradition's "ceaseless flow."Hart pictures a destabilizing "play of tension and resolution, stability and disintegration," and he holds that we must possess a "positive desire for moments of dissolution" if we are to be faithful to "whatever is most original and most final in a tradition." Only thus can whatever is "most imperishable in a tradition... be fitfully perceived, or at least sensed," by those few persons spiritually and intellectually able to do so. By comparison, I would suggest that the core realities of faith can be much more than "fitfully perceived" or "sensed"; I think dogmatic formulations serve... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Afterword to the Polish Edition of Thomistic EvolutionA Catholic Approach to Understanding Evolution in the Light of Faith by Nicanor Pier Giorgio Austriaco, O.P., James Brent, O.P., Thomas Davenport, O.P., and John Baptist Ku, O.P.*Mariusz Tabaczek O.P.Translated by Monika Metlerska-Colerick[End Page 225]Thomistic Evolution: A Catholic Approach to Understanding Evolution in the Light of Faith, by Nicanor Pier Giorgio Austriaco, O.P., James Brent, O.P., Thomas Davenport, O.P., and John Baptist (...) Ku, O.P., is an intriguing attempt at a comprehensive approach to the question of theistic evolutionism from the perspective of Thomistic tradition. The breadth of the approach offered by the authors, starting with the problem of the relationship between reason and faith and subsequently reaching to the foundations of the philosophy of nature, natural theology, and theology of creation, as well as biblical exegesis, provides an appropriate introduction and background for the analysis of a thesis suggesting that it is possible for God to create new species of living organisms (including the Homo sapiens sapiens species) through the processes of evolution. The comprehensible manner in which the discussed questions are presented renders the book accessible to a wide audience.Although one should agree with the main thesis formulated by the authors of Thomistic Evolution regarding the possibility of God expressing his creative power through the emergence of new species of living beings by way of evolution, it also has to be noticed that the arguments they present do not always take fully into consideration certain significant difficulties that arise along the way and the resulting necessity to broaden and adjust the ideas of the Aristotelian-Thomistic tradition to present-day standards in order for it to engage in a dialogue with contemporary science. In the absence of such broadening and adjusting, one might arrive at an overly simplified view of things in which St. Thomas himself would easily come to agree with the main assumptions of theistic evolutionism. Our aim, thus, is to reveal a more profound level of the complexity of the debate regarding the Thomistic view of creation and evolution.St. Thomas and EvolutionismOn the one hand, Brent's intuition seems justified that the Thomistic definition of creation as being dependent on God in existence (depicted in chapter 7) is compatible with both the image of the world in which various kinds of species are immutable and the image of the world in which they are subject to change. On the other hand, we cannot forget that St. Thomas himself perceived forms of species as permanently fixed in the moment of the first member of a given species coming into existence and—consequently—not being subject to any future alterations. Hence, reproduction, according to Aquinas, serves as a continuation of species without the introduction of any significant variations: "Nature produces like from like. Now the thing generated is like its generator in [End Page 226] species and form. Therefore the form is produced by the action of the generator and not by creation" (De pot., q. 3, a. 8, sc 4).This quotation from Questiones disputatae de potentia points us towards the theological question of creation. Here, we must emphasize that, according to St. Thomas, at its origin, the world was perfect as to the number of created species. Hence, "something can be added every day to the perfection of the universe, as to the number of individuals, but not as to the number of species" (ST I, q. 118, a. 3, ad 2).1 It is true that Aquinas allowed for the arising of new animal species through putrefaction caused by the power of the sun, as well as through the crossbreeding of already existing species (see ST I, q. 73, a. 1, ad 3, a portion of which is quoted by Austriaco in chapter 24). However, the emergence of new forms of animal organisms in this way by no means implies or anticipates the theory of their descent from a common ancestor by way of evolutionary transformation. Nor is it a manifestation or expression of the most basic rules governing nature, but rather an exception and a departure from their regularity... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Evolution and Creation—A Response to Michael Chaberek's Critique of Theistic EvolutionMariusz Tabaczek O.P.Translated by Monika Metlerska-ColerickIntroductionMichael Chaberek's critique of my "Afterword" to the Polish edition of Thomistic Evolution: A Catholic Approach to Understanding Evolution in the Light of Faith is essentially focused on three points. First of all, Chaberek questions my thesis supporting the compatibility of evolutionary theory with the Christian faith in creation. Secondly he discounts the possibility (...) of reconciling evolution with the Aristotelian-Thomistic philosophical tradition. Finally he provides arguments undermining the theory of evolution as the best scientific explanation for the diversity of species observable in the world.1 Because I do not undertake an analysis [End Page 255] of strictly biological problems in the "Afterword," in the present response I will concentrate on the first two points only.2 I trust that engaging in a discussion with Chaberek's views in this respect provides an opportunity to broaden and clarify my position regarding the issue which is the subject of our dispute. To begin with, I would like to stress that, in exploring the topic from the perspective of the Aristotelian-Thomistic tradition of philosophy and theology, I am moving in the sphere of possible interpretations and new approaches. Therefore, I do not treat the aforementioned tradition in an inflexible and dogmatic manner.3 [End Page 256]The Definition of CreationI should start my response to Chaberek's critique by invoking the definition of creation as elaborated by Aquinas. After all, it seems that the disagreement referred to in the present article focuses, to a large extent, on the comprehension of the divine act of creation. My views on this matter are not, in my estimation, a significant alteration of the teaching of St. Thomas. Rather, they are an attempt at drawing conclusions from some of his intuitions regarding creation, which appear in various sections of the body of his work.4According to St. Thomas, the word "creation" (creatio) has two crucial and inextricably linked meanings: (I) creation in an active sense (divine action) and (II) creation in a passive sense (receiving divine action). Within the scope of the first meaning, St. Thomas distinguishes between: (Ia) the primary act of creation, defined as bringing the entirety of being into existence out of nothing (ex nihilo), without any prior existing matter, and (Ib) maintaining contingent beings in their existence and essence. The consequence of (Ia) and (Ib) is contingent beings' full dependence on God regarding what they are and the fact that they are (exist), which determines the essence of creation in the passive sense (II).Regarding (Ia), St. Thomas—in a neo-Platonic vein, in support of the claim that nothingness cannot be the object of God's action in the act of creation—states that "we must consider not only the emanation of a particular being from a particular agent, but also the emanation of all being from the universal cause, which is God; and this emanation we designate by the name of creation" (ST I, q 45, a. 1, corp.). It is worth adding here that, according to St. Thomas, the matter, which is the result of the act of creation, is not indefinite, as is assumed by Chaberek when he refers to creation as the bringing out of nothing "of a certain primordial matter of an indefinite form."5 On the contrary, Aquinas states explicitly that "primary matter was not created altogether formless, nor under any one common form, but under [End Page 257] distinct forms" (ST I, q. 66, a. 1, corp., ad 2), enumerating, at this point, the forms of the four elements: earth, water, air, and fire.In reference to (Ib), St. Thomas defines the divine act of maintaining contingent beings in existence and essence (in the fact that they are, as well as in what they are) as conservatio rerum. What is more, even though he emphasizes that "the preservation of things by God is a continuation of that action whereby He gives existence" (ST I, q. 104, a. 1, ad 4), Aquinas does not employ the currently popular concept of continual creation (creatio continua). It seems that... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Where Do Substantial Forms Come From?—A Critique of the Theistic Evolution of Mariusz Tabaczek*Michael Chaberek O.P. and Monika Metlerska-ColerickIntroductionThe question posed in the present article is whether it is possible to be a proponent of theistic evolution and, at the same time, of the metaphysical [End Page 239] principles elaborated by St. Thomas Aquinas. The authors of Thomistic Evolution: a Catholic Approach to Understanding Evolution in the Light of (...) Faith, recently published in Polish, imply that Aquinas's doctrine was not only compatible with the idea of biological macroevolution, but also—on some level—endorsed it.1 In his "Afterword" to the above publication, Mariusz Tabaczek points out certain deficiencies in the argumentation provided by its authors, simultaneously underlining that he agrees with the book's principal thesis.I will not examine the book by the American Dominicans in this article because I have already addressed their arguments in full in my book entitled Aquinas and Evolution,2 where I demonstrated that it is impossible to be both a proponent of theistic evolution and a follower of the philosophical views proposed by St. Thomas. In his "Afterword," Tabaczek presents a contradictory thesis. He claims that being both of the above is possible, provided that one modifies St. Thomas's teaching in four "essential aspects." The very approach of this kind already raises doubts. After all, if St. Thomas's doctrine indeed needs to be modified in order to reconcile his thought with evolution, it suggests that, in fact, it cannot be reconciled with it. Therefore, perhaps the problem comes down to asking whether the four points of incompatibility indicated by Tabaczek really constitute an "essential" part of Aquinas's doctrine? If it is not the case, they might be omitted or modified. If, however, they relate to certain essential elements of Aristotelian-Thomistic metaphysics, disregarding them equals denying St. Thomas's teaching and, consequently, makes it impossible to reconcile it with theistic evolution.In order to settle the problem, I devote the first part of my article to determining whether the points presented by Tabaczek refer to the essential elements of Aquinas's discourse. In the second part of my text, however, I move to a more important point, namely the fact that theistic evolution encounters many more problems in the context of Thomistic metaphysics. Since I have already addressed this matter in several places,3 I limit the scope [End Page 240] of the second part of my article to only one such problem: the emergence of new substantial forms (new species) via the mechanism of evolution. Thus, the object of the present analysis is to examine whether the solution suggested by Tabaczek provides an explanation to the problem of the origin of new substantial forms in theistic evolution.Commentary on the Four Points of IncompatibilityAccording to Tabaczek, the teaching of St. Thomas can be reconciled with theistic evolution under the conditions of:(1) recognizing the possibility of the emergence of new species, that is, acknowledging that the perfection of the universe can increase every day not only in terms of the number of individual beings, but also as regards the number of species; (2) emphasizing the fact that God's initial act of creation is limited to the derivation of matter of the lowest degree of complexity out of nothing (ex nihilo); (3) recognizing the fact that the processes of chemical, biochemical, and biological evolution belong to the work of adornment (opus ornatus), whose subsequent stages spread out across the entire history of the universe and, therefore, are not limited to a finished and past time period; and finally (4) acknowledging that God's direct intervention in the creation of the first representatives of plant and animal species (with the exception of man) is not necessary.4Ad (1) and ad (3). Points 1 and 3 boil down to the same idea, since they are both concerned with the fact that evolution continues, whereas from the Christian perspective, the divine work of creation had already finished. Therefore, if one adopts theistic evolution, the Christian truth of God completing his creative work with the creation of man has to be rejected. The... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Primacy of Christ: The Patristic Patrimony in Joseph Ratzinger/Benedict XVI's Analogy in Theology by Vincent C. AnyamaRoland MillarePrimacy of Christ: The Patristic Patrimony in Joseph Ratzinger/Benedict XVI's Analogy in Theology by Vincent C. Anyama (Eugene, OR: Pickwick, 2021), xii + 263 pp.In the famous dispute between Erich Przywara and Karl Barth, Przywara held the view that the analogy of being is the "formal principle of Catholic thought," whereas (...) Barth maintained the position that the analogy of being is the "invention of the Antichrist." The recent work of Fr. Vincent Anyama presents how the theology of Joseph Ratzinger, with this emphasis on the primacy of Christ, under the influence of the Church Fathers, contributes to the discussion revolving around the role of analogy within theology. Gottlieb Söhngen, one of Ratzinger's mentors and teachers, had appeased Barth with his argument of a Christocentric "analogia entis within an analogia fidei" (2–3). Anyama argues that Ratzinger has taken up the mantle of his mentor in appropriating his Christocentric synthesis of the analogy of faith and reason via his study of Augustine. The unique contribution of Anyama's work is that his study of Ratzinger takes the reader beyond the typical presentation of Ratzinger as an Augustinian and Bonaventurian theologian. Anyama's work engages the patristic influence of Origen, Gregory of Nyssa, Clement of Alexandria, Irenaeus, Tyconius, Justin Martyr, and Maximus the Confessor in addition to the significance of Augustine in Ratzinger's theology.Anyama's study is concerned with addressing Ratzingerian scholarship in two different areas. First, he wants to address what is an inadequate assessment of the patristic influence upon Ratzinger's theology in the scholarship of Peter Fletcher and Peter Kucer. Second, he intends to address varying questions relating to Ratzinger's use of analogy in the work of Peter McGregor, Justin Kizewski, Peter Kucer, and Gabino Bilbaco (235). Anyama explicitly notes that he relies upon a "hermeneutic of continuity" that is limited to the continuity between the patristic heritage and Ratzinger's theology (13). Anyama limits the scope of his study on Ratzinger's use of analogy by adopting the patristic categories utilized by Justin Kizekski in work God-Talk: (1) faith and reason, (2) image and participation, and (3) God-talk (12). These categories will frame the structure for part two of the book (chapters 3–5), whereas the first part of the book (chapters 1–2) focuses on the general patristic understanding of analogy and the Church Fathers quoted by Ratzinger.Jesus Christ is the Incarnation of the logos of the Father. The Church Fathers use "wisdom" and logos in reference to both philosophy and the Christian faith. In the thought of Origin, Christ is the one unique Logos, [End Page 307] who is both the source and ultimate end of the many words (logoi) of natural reason (26). As the eternal Logos, Jesus Christ is the consummate Image, whereas the human person is an "image of the Image" via the rational soul in the theology of Clement of Alexandria (33–34). This line of patristic thought will become important later on in Anyama's work as he addresses the theme of the primacy of Christ within Ratzinger's thought. Creation in the image of God is distinct from the notion of likeness to God within much of patristic thought. In the thought of Irenaeus and other Fathers, likeness is "understood as assimilation of creatures into God," which is a participation of the creature in the life of God via the gift of grace and the life of the Spirit (46–47). The notions used by the Fathers, which are underscored by Anyama, are the identification of reason as "seeds of wisdom" (Origen) and "Seeds of the Word" (Justin Martyr). The analogy between pre-Christian philosophy and the Christian faith will be a frequent theme in the writings of Ratzinger, who will begin his inaugural lecture at the University of Bonn with an insightful reflection upon the God of philosophy and the God of faith.When Anyama begins the second part of the book, he focuses on the thought of Bonaventure because of the prominent influence he... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Philosophy after ChristJohn O'CallaghanConsider the words of Justin Martyr written in the middle of the second century after the birth of Christ and after Justin's conversion to Christianity:Philosophy is indeed one's greatest possession, and is most precious in the sight of God, to whom it alone leads us and to whom it unites us, and in truth they who have applied themselves to philosophy are holy men.1In addition to (...) the praise heaped upon the philosophers, among whom Justin had counted himself before his conversion,2 the text is one of the earliest pieces of evidence for the historical reality of Christian intellectual engagement with pagan or secular philosophy. Whether that engagement proved spiritually fruitful or sterile in any particular age or any particular tradition of philosophy, Christian intellectuals have often sought out engagement with philosophy as an inherent task of the intellectual life of the Church, in order to pursue and develop the understanding of Christian revelation and the mode of life informed by it. One lasting result of the impetus represented by Justin is to be found even now in the normative requirement in Catholic education that, at a certain stage of development, anyone who receives a [End Page 49] serious Catholic education must be introduced to serious philosophical reflection on where we came from, what we are, and where we are born to go.In addition, one of the general points John Henry Newman made in The Idea of a University is that the human mind looks for unity in the diversity of intellectual disciplines it pursues. In search of this unity, it seeks a kind of primary discipline that takes into account the truths discovered throughout the other disciplines as it seeks to understand what it can of the whole of reality, not just its parts. But Newman also pointed out that, in the absence of such a unifying discipline, practitioners of each particular discipline will often claim for their particular discipline the prize of being primary—of being the discipline by which all others must be understood and judged.3Take classical and modern physics. A familiar claim of some physicists, but even more so of non-physicist physicalists, is that physics is the fundamental intellectual discipline for understanding what is real. All reality, living reality, historical reality, moral reality, indeed perhaps even literary reality, must be reduced to reality as described by the physicists or rejected as unreal or epiphenomenal, or in a kinder, gentler vein, non-reductively emergent and supervenient. Whichever position is taken, whether reduction, non-reductive emergence, or epiphenomenalism, the thought is that the real work of the really real is done by reality as described by physics, either in its actual contemporary state or, more likely, in an idealized future state always on the horizon of where physics presently is. We are really atoms spinning ceaselessly in the void, mostly empty space, the warp and woof of a four-dimensional space-time manifold, or congeries of strings in an even more bizarre thirteen-dimensional manifold, or whatever was said most recently to surpass what was said before that by the leading physicists in California or Cambridge.However, anyone who has actually practiced physics knows that, even when uttered by a physicist, these are not claims of physics, but about physics. What prompts them is the sense that there is no intellectual discipline other than contemporary physics itself that can both understand the achievements of physics and integrate them into a larger intellectual comprehension of reality as a whole. These claims about physics nicely display Newman's point about the way in which a particular discipline, in the absence of a larger more comprehensive discipline, can take on an importance for its practitioners well beyond its disciplinary limits. [End Page 50]In the case of physics, if a more comprehensive unifying discipline is not to be found, this attitude is not entirely unjustified, for Newman's point is partly Aristotelian. Aristotle had pointed out that, if one cannot show that unchangeable, and thus non-physical beings, exist, then what Aristotle called "first philosophy" would just be physics as he understood it, the science of... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Deaconesses and Ritual ImpurityCatherine Brown TkaczCultural diversity underlies the differences between deaconesses of the East and of the West.1 In the West, women were recognized by their faith as able to catechize others and to assist women at baptism; in some parts of the East, only a deaconess could take these roles. Again, only in some areas of the East, women at certain times were not permitted to enter (...) the church building, but deaconesses could take the Eucharist to these housebound women. In religious life, corresponding differences existed. In the West, nuns were fitted by their vows to take various roles in the Liturgy of the Hours; in the East, in some areas, only a diaconal abbess could take these roles. In remote monasteries which might lack a priest for some time, the diaconal abbess could distribute pre-consecrated communion to the community. Long has cosmic dualism been recognized as a trait of the Eastern groups that had deaconesses. Now another trait can be identified: [End Page 187] apparently the groups which retained the Levitical laws of ritual impurity were the ones that needed the gender-specific ministry of deaconesses. Examining the theological and cultural context in which that office arose helps explain this varied history. Next, the Western deaconess is most clearly limned by comparing the pertinent Latin ceremonies. This also sheds unexpected light on how the Roman Catholic Church protected the property rights of consecrated women.The Context in Which Deaconesses AroseJesus taught a new doctrine: the call to sanctification: "Be perfect as your Father in heaven is perfect" (Matt 5:48). Again, he commanded them to imitate him, to take up their cross daily and follow him (Luke 9:23). The post-Gospels New Testament continued to suggest ways for the believer to imitate Christ (for example, Heb 13:10–15). These teachings ground the doctrine that every human person is called to be holy and like Christ. To ensure that his followers knew that this vocation to holiness concerns women equally with men, Jesus demonstrated and emphasized the spiritual equality of the sexes throughout his time on earth.2 In an unprecedented way, he provided balanced examples of male and female in his interactions with men and women, in his healings, resurrection miracles, parables, and prophecies.3 In contrast, in the Old Testament and in the Jewish Haggadah, [End Page 188] paired male and female examples are "quite rare."4 While Tannaite Jews "exempted" women from reciting Shema and other acts of ritual worship and required only domestic devotions, Jesus elicited a public profession of faith from a woman as well as from a man—Peter (John 6:69) and Martha of Bethany (John 11:27)—and hers proves to be fuller.5 This dynamically demonstrated the spiritual equality of the sexes, and Eustathios of Antioch, Chrysostom, Augustine, and others praised Martha for teaching the faith.6From the start, both men and women were instructed in the faith, baptized, and received communion.7 Women also participated with men in evangelizing others. This began at Jesus's presentation in the Temple, his first public appearance, when the prophetess Anna announced the coming of the Messiah (Luke 2:36–38). The Samaritan woman evangelized her community: as soon as she learned of Jesus through conversation with him, she actively instructed others, so that many believed in him "because of the woman's testimony" (John 4:28–30, 39–42). The evangelical work of Priscilla was reported, with the account of her teaching a man (Acts 18:2, 26). That is, Christians interacted without a strict segregation of the sexes. When the apostles learned of neglect of the Greek widows, they obviously did not think that only other women could respond to this social need, for the apostles appointed men to do so (Acts 6:1–6).8Contrast this to the Jewish understanding of the roles of men and women. In the Temple, only Jewish men were allowed inside; women were relegated to the women's court. This segregation continued in medieval synagogues.9 [End Page 189] Likewise, as noted above, the Tannaite Jews "exempted" women from public worship. In Christian churches, however... (shrink)