More Balthasar (Sorry!)
There is a very interesting, or so it seems, book slated to be published soon by T & T Clarke on Von Balthasar. T & T Clarke has a blog, and they have put an excerpt up of the book on-line. The excerpt is quite intriguing: apparently, the book’s author sees the debate about Balthasar as a debate concerning, to some extent, competing Thomisms. I think that sounds about right. I did a dissertation on another, less controversial (for traditionalists), “nouvelle theologie” figure, and I came to the conclusion that he was less neo-patristic (as it may at first seem in reading him) and more Gilsonian Thomist. The same might very well be true of Balthasar, with whom my person of study was good friends. They were both highly critical of the emergence of a totalizing philosophy from out of the early modern scholastic tradition. They both thought that a deeper reading of Thomas does not lead to the condoning of philosophy as a self-sufficient discipline. The guy that I did my dissertation on did not go the Balthasarian route in regard to the kenotic doctrine of Christ’s sacrificial death. But, in many other respects, their theological perspectives cohered. So, I can see this author’s point.
I have no interest in defending Balthasar beyond rescuing him from charges of heresy (or “tending to heresy”) or from those who see him as a scandal to the Church. The reason that I am so inclined to defend him in this regard is because a defense of Balthasar from these charges is a defense of Benedict XVI — whom I view it as my Catholic obligation to defend. Balthasar was so influential to Ratzinger, though Ratzinger is said to be critical of Balthasar’s fascination with Adrienne von Speyer, that one cannot so absolutely call Balthasar’s work into question, as heresy or as scandal, without raising doubts about the theological competence of the Holy Father.
So, forgive me those of you who happen upon this blog who have no interest in intra-ecclesial squabbling, but here is the excerpt:
Balthasar and the Resurgence of Traditional Catholicism
This is an extract of our forthcoming Balthasar: A Guide for the Perplexed by Rodney Howsare. The book will publish in June in the UK and in August in the US. The extract is from chapter 7: Balthasar’s Ongoing Role in Theology. Enjoy!
Balthasar and the Resurgence of Traditional Catholicism
Once more, I intend in this short space only to raise questions for further discussion; I make no pretence at settling them. I stated earlier that when I began work on my dissertation in the mid-90’s, the main issue in Balthasar studies was to get Balthasar a hearing in a context still dominated by Rahner, Lonergan and Liberation Theology. Of course things were already changing. Milbank’s Theology and Social Theory had already come out in 1990 and Fergus Kerr’s, Theology after Wittgenstein had come out even before that. I mention these as just two examples of the growing dissatisfaction over an academic approach to theology that was still under the sway of Enlightenment patterns of thought. But once the modern has been put in its place, room is made not only for the postmodern (postliberal, radically orthodox, etc.), but also, in the case of some, for the pre-modern. In our own day, for instance, we are beginning to witness a new interest in the thought of Thomas Aquinas, not simply as a philosopher, and not simply out of historical curiosity, but as a theologian to be reckoned with.
Indeed, some of the more interesting criticism of Balthasar is no longer coming out of the Concilium wing of American Catholicism, but from the Thomistic or traditionalist wing. Thomas Weinandy, for instance, in numerous articles and books has mounted a sustained and intelligent defense of the classical understanding of divine immutability, and with it, a defense of the notion that on the cross it is only the humanity of Christ that suffers. A yet more traditionalist, Thomistic approach can be found in Guy Mansini and Matthew Levering, who focus on the same questions of divine immutability and the Trinity. And finally, a more radical, less nuanced denouncement of Balthasar’s approach to these questions, which centers, finally, on the question of the descent into hell, can be found in a recent book by Alyssa Pitstick, Light in Darkness: Hans Urs von Balthasar and the Catholic Doctrine of Christ’s Descent into Hell. I do not intend to situate all of these critiques into a single “camp”: Weinandy’s defense of immutability is not as strictly wedded to Thomas as, say, that of Levering or Mansini; and none of these former have the “edge” that Pitstick’s book has, which basically considers Balthasar’s theology to be heretical. Still, there is a common concern that Balthasar has abandoned the traditional doctrine of the Trinity, the tradition notion of the non-confusion of the two natures in Christ, and the classic understanding of God’s immutability. I should say at least something about this critique.First, one of the reasons that I began this study the way I did was to show just how wedded in many ways Balthasar’s thought is to that of Thomas Aquinas. I repeat, for instance, that the entire first volume of Theo-Logic reads like an extended commentary on Aquinas’s, On Truth. Furthermore, in spite of the fact that Thomas does not make Balthasar’s famous list of clerical styles that makes up the second volume of The Glory of the Lord, he is more than compensated by playing the pivotal role in the two volumes on metaphysics which come later. As I stated in chapter two, Aquinas marks a kairos for Balthasar between the Fathers’ tendency to swallow philosophy into theology and the moderns’ tendency either to separate the two entirely, or to absorb theology into philosophy. Balthasar, therefore, commends in large part Aquinas’s understanding of the relationship between philosophy and theology. This leads to a further point: it is not so much a question of whether Balthasar is faithful to Thomas as it is a question of which Thomas we are talking about. For Balthasar, Thomas is decidedly not the Thomas of the neo-scholastics. Balthasar’s reading of Thomas is much closer to that of Etienne Gilson, Henri de Lubac, Gustav Siewerth, Erich Przywara, and Ferdinand Ulrich, to name just a few. Indeed, even today Balthasar has his Thomistic defenders such as Norris Clarke and Kenneth Schmitz. Clarke even suggests that Thomists need to do a better job of explaining how God’s immutability should be understood both in the light of scriptures and the fact that Thomas defines God as “pure act.”
But the larger question in the background here concerns Balthasar’s fidelity to the tradition. To refer once more to chapter two, I tried to offer a series of rules which Balthasar applies for retrieving past thought. Obviously fidelity to the past cannot mean slavish repetition, if for no other reason than that there are tensions in the tradition. It is interesting to note, for instance, that Alyssa Pitstick’s book makes almost no reference to models of the Trinity except the psychological one preferred by Thomas and Augustine. Bonaventure is mentioned once in her book, and here she is quoting Balthasar. Neither Richard of St. Victor nor Matthias Scheeben are even mentioned. Any time Balthasar is trying to work through a difficult issue, for instance, which analogies from below work best for the Trinity, he examines an amazing array of authors from all sorts of time periods, from the East and the West, major thinkers and minor ones. This is part of his act of discernment. No single author in the Church’s past is right all of the time. Thomas was wrong, for instance, about the immaculate conception and about the torture of heretics. Augustine was at least partially wrong about predestination and, we can hope, the massa damnata. It could be argued that in examining such a wide variety of thinkers and teasing out the position which is most faithful to God’s self-revelation in Jesus Christ, Balthasar is actually more traditional, in some ways, than some of his traditionalist critics. This is an issue that deserves more attention in the coming years.
Still, the criticism of Balthasar from this more Thomistic side could be seen as prompting what I think is the next, promising phase in Balthasar scholarship. In the early years, since the major foil for Balthasar was likely Karl Rahner and the so-called “mediating” school of theology, the emphasis was placed on Balthasar the non-rationalist. In the discussions that swirled around the Yale versus Chicago schools, Balthasar was almost always placed in the Yale camp. It was all but admitted that Rahner and Lonergan were the philosophers and fundamental theologians while Balthasar was the better intra-Catholic, doctrinal theologian. It was sometimes suggested that while Rahner and Lonergan followed Thomas and were therefore more philosophical, Balthasar followed Bonaventure and was more fideistic. But recently, partly on account of increasing interest in the thought of Gustav Siewerth and Ferdinand Ulrich and partly on account of the Thomistic critique mentioned above, more attention is being paid to Balthasar’s philosophy and his defense of reason and metaphysics. In closing this final chapter, then, I would like to mention three young thinkers, all associated with the American edition of Communio, who are doing groundbreaking work in the area of Balthasar’s philosophy: Adrian Walker, Nicholas J. Healy, and David C. Schindler. The latter two have written important books on Balthasar’s philosophy which will appear in the “suggested readings” below; the former has written numerous articles in the American edition of Communio on Balthasar’s philosophy, especially on the relationship between being, truth and love. It is my conviction that these three names will figure heavily in the future of Balthasar studies.
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>though Ratzinger is said to be critical of Balthasar’s fascination with Adrienne von Speyer
I’ve looked for some comment by Ratzinger on von Speyer without luck. Has he ever addressed the issue in print?
Comment by Tom McD — March 27, 2009 @ 8:52 AM
Not that I’m aware of: I’m going on what I heard a professor say who was at a conference with Ratzinger.
Comment by hierothee — March 27, 2009 @ 10:56 AM
Your first paragraph sounds like a reaction to yet the earlier Thomism at Louvain with cardinal Mercier, who definitely was trying to establish an autonomous philosophy to dialogue with the enlightment. Why aren’t there 50 million schools of scotism in this “new springtime” in which we live today, I wonder.
Comment by lee faber — March 27, 2009 @ 11:51 AM
Wait, VB rejects/is weak on divine immutability? What about that eternal bugbear, divine simplicity?
Comment by lee faber — March 27, 2009 @ 11:56 AM
Lee,
As for your first question, I suspect that it has everything to do with Aeterni Patris. If a pope should have similarly commended Scotus, then the ranks of the Scotists would have swelled, and competing schools of Scotism would have proliferated.
Thomas’s theological approach was commended as standard for the whole Church. Little could the Pope have realized that the embracing of historical methods of textual analysis in the Church, and of diverging views on how to deal with enligtenment rationalism, would lead to “different Thomases.”
Theologians are still burdened by the question of conveying the Gospel in a world scientistically immune to it. Do we ignore science, or deconstruct it? Or, do we embrace it, but try to put it into a wider framework of reason? One’s inclination in answering this question seems to be determinative of how one reads Thomas. Because the theologians in question (from Mercier to Balthasar)do not see Thomas as an historical artefact, but as a living voice who can speak to contemporary humanity, they do not seek simply to repeat what Thomas said but to develop his thinking. This will inevitably bring about different and competing schools.
To be honest, I’d be interested to know if any contemporary theologians are using Scotus’s thought in this fashion. If Scotus is approached in this way, that is, as a theologian who is no mere historical curiosity but whose insights can penetrate the secular mindset, then I suspect his work would also lead to varying interpretations.
As for your second question, there are those who argue that Balthasar locates, finally, “mutability” in the personhood of the Son, or in the interplay of the divine relations, but not in the divine essence. Coherent or not? I’m in no position to decide. That will be a point of debate for the foreseeable future. But it certainly was not a position enunciated by Balthasar in the heretical spirit of naturalizing the divine essence — that is, of making God not to be God. That’s probably more Rahner than Balthasar.
Comment by hierothee — March 27, 2009 @ 3:55 PM
“Thomas Weinandy, for instance, in numerous articles and books has mounted a sustained and intelligent defense of the classical understanding of divine immutability, and with it, a defense of the notion that on the cross it is only the humanity of Christ that suffers.”
What exactly is “the classical understanding of divine immutability”? Is it the mutability that comes from Greek philosophy or is it the immutability of the God of Israel and the God of Jesus Christ? As for the Thomist claim that “only the humanity of Christ that suffers,” I can only say that this confuses nature and person. Natures do not suffer; only persons suffer. It is Christ who suffers on the cross. The idea that only his humanity suffers seems to say that only his human nature suffers. But this is the reason why Thomas Aquinas is insufficient. Contemporary phenomenology of the body (Chretien and Marion and Levinas for example) should serve as a more adequate vehicle for making philosophical sense about suffering. The problem with Thomists of the “strict observance,” people like Levering and even Weinandy, is that, for them, Thomas Aquinas is not only necessary but sufficient. For them, Thomas IS THE MEASURE OF ORTHODOXY!!! Pace a highly skewed interpretation of Aeterni Patris, the Catholic Tradition cannot be reduced to Thomas Aquinas.
Comment by Tony — March 28, 2009 @ 4:56 AM
Tony,
Thomas is certainly very much in line with the patristic tradition and especially with the Chalcedonian theologians — and I’m not sure why anyone would want to follow those who reject Chalcedon, as that would indeed be heretical.
The communication of idioms is the standard, traditional, orthodox manner of interpreting attributions to person and nature in Christ, and this goes back to the earliest days of conciliar, Christological reflection. It holds that anything that can be said of either of the natures of Christ can be said of the person of Christ. But there are attributes of the respective natures of Christ that are not intercommunicable. There are things that can be said of the divine nature that cannot be said of the human nature of Christ, and vice versa. Though everything that can be said of either of the natures can be said of the Person.
So, for instance, it is not said of the human nature that it is deity, or of the divine nature that it dies: though Christ as person is eternal and does die on the Cross. The natures, as Chalcedon says, are united without “division or separation,” true. But they are also united without “confusion or change.”
Leo the Great said in his Tome to Flavian, so foundational for orthodox Christological reflection, that Christ “could die in one nature and not in the other.” The same is true of suffering as applied to Christ. Indeed, the person of Christ suffers. But not the “inviolable” (to use Saint Leo’s term) divine nature. Note: the human nature too is “inviolable,” because it is not blended into the divine nature in Christ’s assumption of humanity.
As for confusing person and nature, it is precisely a rejection of the communication of idioms that leads to confusion of them, in the sense of blending them together conceptually, or of blending the natures together as in a chemical mixture.
Interestingly, Balthasar at least tries to fit his speculations into this orthodox context.
As for phenomenology as applied to Christology, one has to be careful not to fall into the Rahner’s transcendentalist confusions where the analogical distance between finite personhood and the infinite personhood is, at least seemingly, done away with.
And Jean-Luc Marion, though a philosopher and not a theologian, is generally considered orthodox in this regard. But I have not read if he has treated of this subject specifically. I do know that he wrote an essay on Saint Maximus the Confessor many, many years ago, before he was famous. Maximus was, of course, the great defender of Chalcedon who upheld the distinctive powers of the divine and human energies in Christ.
Comment by hierothee — March 28, 2009 @ 11:42 AM
Interesting points. As far as I know the only areas in which contemporary (and I don’t know of any americans) theologians are utiliziing Scotus in contemporary theology is in marian areas, as well as the Franciscan emphasis on Christ being the peak of creation, incarnation would happened anyway, etc. There is also the analytic theologian appropriation in Scotus, that one finds in say Richard Cross. He gives analysis and comparison to contemporary theology. On the whole, however, I think modern appropriations of Scotus as ‘living’ theologian is hampered by the fact that he is so conceptually difficult as well as the fact that his opera omnia is not complete, and much scholarly literature on Scotus tends to become invalidated as the edition proceeds at its snail’s pace (and now the Vatican editors have given up, and the American section decided not to apply for a NEH grant for a while, so its basically come to a complete standstill).
Comment by lee faber — March 28, 2009 @ 5:47 PM