General Information
Within the context of the history of dogma, scholasticism refers to the theology which took form in the Western universities beginning in the middle of the 11th century, reached its culmination in the 13th century, deteriorated in the late Middle Ages, and was finally destroyed by humanism and the Reformation.
The distinguishing characteristic of scholasticism was its use of the philosophic method. The scholastics employed the dialectical system which was inherited from antiquity and was introduced into the philosophy taught in the schools and universities which flourished in the Middle Ages under the protection of the church and the cloisters. The scholastic approach developed when men began to subject the traditional material to an independent dialectical treatment. In addition to the Scriptures and tradition, the positions adopted by various teachers (“doctors”) also came to play an important role. Other persons commented on their writings, around which separate “schools” were formed, and one system succeeded another. The dialectical method led by degrees to an endless division of theological problems; speculation was carried further and further, even to peripheral details.
Such expressions as “scholastic” and “scholastical” have often been used to designate a formalistic, sterile kind of theology, the presentation of which is confused and encumbered by the inclusion of unnecessary distinctions and empty rationalizing. As a general evaluation of medieval scholasticism, however, this is misleading. Medieval scholasticism was frequently degenerate, to be sure, but at its best it represented a serious activity, in which theological problems were skillfully and energetically studied. One cannot deny that this tradition possessed a plethora of ideas and observations, presented with logical discernment.
But why has scholastic theology been so hard to understand? The chief reason for this, perhaps, is that the philosophical tradition on which medieval university education was constructed has been replaced in more recent times by other presuppositions. As a result, our knowledge of the older forms of thought, which were dependent on antiquity, has to a large extent disappeared.
The usual estimate of scholasticism has frequently been influenced by the criticisms of humanism and the Reformation. Because of this, it is fairly easy to think of scholasticism as a uniform school of thought. But this is not the case. Many different schools were represented in this category. At the same time, scholasticism experienced a long and varied development, from the original form to the complicated and in many respects degenerate speculations of the late Middle Ages.
Two factors above all contributed to the development of scholasticism: church renewal on the one hand, which expressed itself in monastic reform (of. the Cluny reform, e.g.), and on the other hand the increased association with the philosophical education of the time. The cloister and cathedral schools of this era, like the universities which later grew out of them, developed a form of instruction which was based on the educational heritage of antiquity. As a result of this, theological material, too, was studied in accordance with philosophical methods and thought forms. At the outset, logic was looked upon as the basic science. The writings of Aristotle in the field of logic were made available through Boethius (see above). The Aristotelian metaphysics was not used in theological instruction until later on, but once introduced it served as one of the most important presuppositions for the construction of the “high scholastic” systems.
The Lord’s Supper
A doctrinal controversy which to a certain extent represented a continuation of the dispute concerning the Lord’s Supper in the Carolingian period arose in the middle of the 11th century. Berengar of Tours (d. 1088) protested against the increased acceptance of the idea that the elements are changed by the words of consecration. This theological position, which was developed by Radbertus, was frequently combined with the superficial and naive idea that the body of Christis divided into just as many pieces as the host consisted of, etc. Berengar defended the Augustinian position, as Ratramnus had, and he rejected the idea of a change as being unreasonable. The consecration means only that the elements are given a new, spiritual meaning. For the faithful, the elements are signs (signa) or pledges (pignora) of the receiving of the heavenly Christ. The substance of the elements does not change, said Berengar, but they do become a “sacrament,” the bearers of an invisible gift.
Berengar’s position, which was officially condemned at a number of synods, and which he himself was forced to deny many times, was opposed by Lanfranc (d. 1089, Archbishop of Canterbury). Lanfranc and other theologians developed the idea that the elements actually change, even though their external characteristics remain the same. The whole of Christ was said to be present in every part of the host, and is received by both believers and unbelievers. These men also rejected the mediating position which is called impanation or consubstantiation. This idea held that the elements retain not only their external characteristics but also their own natural substance, while at the same time serving as the bearers of the presence of Christ as a new, heavenly substance. This theory was later adopted by the nominalists in the late Middle Ages.
The doctrine of transubstantiation (an expression coined by the early scholastics) was subsequently established by Pope Innocent III at the Fourth Lateran Council of 1215. It was decreed there that “the bread in the Lord’s Supper is changed by the power of God into the body of Christ, and the wine into the blood of Christ.” (Cf. below, pp. 193–94)
The Controversy Between Nominalism And Realism
Anselm of Canterbury (d. 1109, abbot of the cloister at Bee in Normandy, from 1093 archbishop of Canterbury) is remembered as the renewer of the Augustinian tradition and the founder of scholasticism. In his book De fide Trinitatis Anselm opposed the point of view which was called nominalism and which was supported by a number of contemporary dialeeticians, among them Roscellinus. Nominalism held that man’s universal concepts are nothing more than word pictures or names, which we use to identify what is common to various objects in the same category. Anselm maintained that concepts which are not perceived by the senses but which are formed by our rational powers are nevertheless representative of something real, a reality of a higher variety, comprehensible only to reason (universalia sunt res). This point of view, in opposition to the former, was called realism. The philosophical debate in which Anselm thus became involved had a great influence on church doctrine as he saw it. For in his opinion the nominalist position contradicted the church’s doctrine of the Trinity, as well as its Christology, inasmuch as it subverted the very foundation on which these doctrines were based. The thought was this: If one cannot distinguish between an object and its qualities, neither can one distinguish between God and His relations. The doctrine of the Trinity presupposes a distinction between God’s substance and the three Persons in the Godhead, and thus it follows that reality is ascribed to the substance itself. The nominalists assumed that reality could be ascribed only to that which is particular. As a result, the three Persons could be conceived of only as three substances. This would mean that nominalism presented either a tritheistic point of view or a monotheism which eliminated every distinction between Persons. In respect to the Christological question, Anselm argued along similar lines: If a person does not distinguish between the individual man and the universal concept of “man,” how can he believe that the Son of God took upon Himself human nature? For Christ did not assume a human person but only human nature.
At the same time, an extreme point of view developed side by side with Anselm’s more moderate realism. The extremists emphasized the reality of the universals in such a way that individual objects became nothing more than modifications of the common substance, thus losing their independent reality (cf. William of Champeaux). But this school of thought, as well as extreme nominalism, was opposed by one of the most famous theologians of the age, Peter Abelard (d. 1142, active in Paris and elsewhere).
Abelard was a highly controversial figure in the theological arena, who was more than once accused of heresy. But in the dispute about the reality of the universals, he developed a mediating position which was generally accepted, even by the high scholastics. Abelard distinguished between concepts as merely a complex of sounds on the one hand (voces) and as designations of reality on the other (signa). Entities for which concepts serve as signs do not exist apart from things as independent substances. But at the same time, definite reality can be ascribed to universal concepts: they exist prior to things, as the pattern of design in the mind of God. Furthermore, they exist in individual objects as their form or substance. And as designations of that which is common to various individuals they exist in our consciousness. This modified realism was subsequently adapted by Thomas Aquinas, who expressed his position in the formula “universals before things, in things, and after things” (universalia ante res, in rebus et post res).
The Development of the Theological Method
As seen from one point of view, scholasticism was an independent treatment of the doctrinal tradition inherited from the past. As already noted, this new theological presentation was made with the assistance of philosophy, used in one way or another. There was no parallel to this in the Eastern Church, which was for the most part content to preserve the dogmatic decisions made by the church fathers.
The man who was above all responsible for the scholastic development of the inherited tradition was Anselm of Canterbury. He did not himself produce a comprehensive study of dogmatics, but in a large number of modest books and meditations he demonstrated his sagacity with respect to individual points of doctrine. His point of departure for theological thought was a living, experiential faith. “Whoever has not believed will not understand. For whoever has not believed will not gain experience; and whoever has not gained experience will not understand.” Meditation and theological speculation belong together. Anselm sought to advance from faith to a knowledge of faith's mysteries (fides quaerens intellectum). He desired to use the powers of reason as much as possible in his examination of the rational bases (rationes necessariae) of revealed truth. This method did not by any means suggest contempt for authority (Scripture and tradition); it was rather an attempt to utilize all available means to investigate and establish the truth of faith. As nearly as we can tell from the content of his point of view, Anselm was a faithful follower of Augustine.
Peter Abelard also exerted a powerful influence on the formation of the theological method. It was he who introduced the dialectical method, which was a bold attempt to combine authority and reason, faith and free scholarship. In his book Sic et non he posited propositions from the Christian tradition, to which he appended other statements, also drawn from Christian sources, which appeared to contradict them. He then proceeded to reconcile these opposed points of view. As he saw it, this can be done in three ways: (1) by scrutinizing these statements critically in the light of history, in order to determine their relationship; (2) by grading them on the basis of authority: the Bible is alone infallible, while the church fathers could be in error; (3) by throwing light on traditional truth by using reason and universal rational principles.
Abelard proceeded on the basis that faith and reason cannot contradict each other, since they issue from the same source—divine truth. Because this is so, he felt, one can subject the truth of faith to the test of reason without any danger. But why do this? In order not only to repeat that which is authoritative but to elucidate it.
The two Victorines, Hugo and Richard of St. Victor, who were in charge of the famous school in Paris that bore this name, went beyond Anselm in this direction. In their adaptation of tradition, they combined rational speculation with contemplative involvement. In his book De sacramentis Christianae fidei Hugo of St. Victor gave us scholasticism’s first comprehensive treatment of dogmatics. (He used the word “sacrament” to refer to sacred things in general, to all aspects of the Christian faith.) The plan of the book followed the history of salvation. Richard’s magnum opus was a discussion of the doctrine of the Trinity (in six volumes).
Hugo distinguished between meditation and contemplation. And while such distinctions are quite foreign to our way of thinking today, this was characteristic of the theological method of his time. Meditation, which was closely related to prayer, implied a search for truth; its objective was to enkindle the love of God in human hearts. Contemplation presupposed the overcoming of desire, and the illumination of the soul by the light of the truth. There were two kinds of contemplation: speculation, the dispassionate and scrupulous considering of the truth, and contemplation proper, the highest form of dedication to knowledge, the comprehensive view, which presupposes that the soul is filled with joy and peace, that it rests in the truth, and that it has attained to the perfect love of God.
Peter Lombard (d. 1160) combined the meditative adaptation of tradition provided by Anselm and the Victorines with Abelard’s dialectic method. His well-known magnum opus, Libri quattuor sententiarum, encompassed the entire field of dogmatics. Its great significance can be attributed above all to the fact that it provided an orderly and lucid account of traditional doctrine. The volume is divided into four books:
(I) “Concerning the Trinitarian Mystery”; (II) “Concerning Creation”; (III) “Concerning the Incarnation of the Word and the Restoration of the Human Race”; (IV) “Concerning the Doctrine of Signs.”
With respect to the various questions of detail which are quoted pro and con out of the Bible and the church fathers, Lombard sought with the aid of the dialectical method to show how such contradictory statements could be brought into agreement. His own position was very moderate. He acknowledged that philosophy could be of some help in providing solutions to the questions at hand, but he appealed to the recognized authorities (above all, the Scriptures) as being decisive in such matters.
Lombard’s Sentences—as his work is often called—were of fundamental importance for theological instruction in the Middle Ages, right up to the time of the Reformation. A huge number of commentaries and expositions based on this book have been preserved, many of them only in manuscript form.
Faith and Reason
Anselm, like Augustine before him, represented that position with respect to faith and reason which was customarily characterized by the expression, “I believe in order that I may understand” (credo ut intelligam). Basing their opinion on the words found in Is. 7:9 (Vulgate), “If you do not believe, you will not understand,” those who follow this line emphasize that faith is the presupposition of a rational insight into revealed truth. As Augustine put it, understanding is the reward of faith.
Anselm developed this position in more detail, among other places, in his Proslogion. It is clearly expressed, for example, in the following passage: “I do not attempt, Lord, to penetrate Thy depth, for by no means do I compare my intellect with it; but I desire to understand, to a degree, Thy truth, which my heart believes and loves. For I do not seek to understand in order that I may believe, but I believe in order that I may understand.” (Ch. 1)
A similar statement appears in another work by Anselm, Cur Deus homo: “As it is the proper order that we should believe the deep things of the Christian faith before we presume to discuss them by reason, so it seems negligent to me if, after we have been established in the faith, we do not seek to understand what we believe.” (I, Ch. 2)
The credo ut intelligam concept presupposes that theology and philosophy can be harmonized. That which forms the content of faith, and which man comprehends by faith, can also be understood by reason—at least to some extent. Faith and the principles of reason are not antithetical. It is the task of theology to present the content of faith in such a way that it can be understood and comprehended. For this reason, according to Anselm, theology must follow philosophical principles and use the assistance of logic. It is faith, however, which has the primacy, for man does not come to faith through reason; but on the contrary understanding comes by faith. The role of reason is simply to make clear, a posteriori, that the truths of faith are necessary even as seen from the point of view of logic and reason. For it is only after one has grasped revealed truth in faith that he is able, through rational discussion and meditation, to perceive that that which he believes is also agreeable to reason.
A good example of Anselm’s argumentation is to be found in the so-called ontological proof of the existence of God, presented in his Proslogion. Faith conceives of God as the highest and most perfect being. This concept can be grasped intellectually even by those who deny the existence of God (cf. Ps. 14:1). That which is the highest conceivable cannot, however, exist only in the intellect. For then that which does actually exist—which is a condition superior to existing only as an idea—would be elevated above the highest conceivable, which would be unreasonable. Therefore one must assume that there is a highest being which exists both in the intellect and in reality.
The ontological proof was subject to various kinds of criticism even during the Middle Ages. Thomas Aquinas did not accept it; he rather held to the cosmological proof. He criticized Anselm’s thought in this way: Assuming that God is the highest conceivable, and that a real existence is superior to one that is merely imagined—this does not prove the existence of God. The only conclusion one can draw is that if God is the highest conceivable, He must be thought to exist in reality. But reality cannot be verified in this manner, for it is not a quality which can be ascribed to an object in the same way as other qualities. Reality cannot be verified as a logical necessity, inasmuch as it does not belong to the sphere of logic.
To Anselm faith implied attachment to the revealed truth. But this was not simply an intellectual attachment; neither was it, therefore, merely an assumption, as some have thought. As far as Anselm was concerned, faith is related to love. Faith thus involves a volitional aspect—the concentration of the will on the object in which one has faith.
According to Hugo of St. Victor, faith is part cognition, part affection. Basically, as he saw it, faith is an act of the will, a volitional grasping of the content of faith involving three distinct stages. Hugo based these distinctions upon whether one was devoted to faith only on the basis of reverence (sola pietate), or with the consent of reason (cum approbatione rationis), or with an inner attraction and a certainty which comes from personal experience.
Abelard emphasized more strongly that faith is a form of knowledge. The will is motivated by the act of knowing, and to this extent there is a volitional aspect in faith. But it was of a secondary nature as far as Abelard was concerned, and in this he differed from Anselm and Hugo, who felt that faith is primarily an act of the will. Anselm and Hugo also believed that the content of faith is suprarational, whereas Abelard tended to look on faith as a form of necessary knowledge, analogous to philosophical knowledge.
Anselm’s Theory of the Atonement
In his well-known book Cur Deus homo Anselm gave us a lucid exposition of the problem of the Atonement or, more correctly, of the Incarnation. This presentation, too, comes under the rubriccredo ut intelligam. Anselm did not simply intend to provide a theological interpretation of the work of Christ but to demonstrate that the doctrines of the Incarnation and of the Atonement wrought through the death of Christ are borne up by a logical necessity. Anselm claimed that one could prove that this and nothing else had to happen, even apart from the testimony of revelation. As a result, he desired above all to serve those who already believe, but also to shame those who scoff at the faith.
The question which Anselm used as a point of departure was this: “On what basis or for which urgent reasons did God become man so that by His death, as we believe and confess, He thereby gave life to the world? Why did He do this, inasmuch as it could have been done either through some other person, angel or man, or simply by His will?” (I, Ch. 1)
Anselm’s book is in the form of a dialog between himself and Boso, one of his disciples. Boso asks the questions, and Anselm answers them.
The teaching of satisfaction in Anselm’s theory has its background in cosmology and in the history of salvation. Anselm believed that God, in His wisdom and love, had decided from eternity to establish a kingdom of rational beings, obedient to His royal will, dwelling under His dominion. When a fall took place in the angel world, thereby diminishing the number of spiritual beings who were to live in this kingdom, God created man to replace the fallen angels. Human destiny, therefore, is to live under God’s dominion and to obey His will. When man fell away from God through an act of disobedience, the entire divine plan for the universe was disturbed, and God was deprived of His honor. This was not simply a personal insult; it was also a violation of God’s majesty and of the plan He had ordained for the world. It was unthinkable that God’s plan should go unfulfilled, or that God should have to endure this insult to His honor, occasioned by man’s fall into sin. “Anselm: In the order of things, there is nothing less to be endured than that the creature should take away the honor due the Creator, and not restore what he has taken away …. Therefore the honor taken away must be repaid, or punishment must follow; otherwise, either God will not be just to Himself, or He Will be weak in respect to both parties; and this it is impious even to think of. Boso: I think that nothing more reasonable can be said.” (I, Ch. 13)
It was therefore necessary, as seen from the point of view of the plan God had willed for the world, that this wrong should either be remedied or punished. God could not surrender the plan He had established, and neither men nor angels could escape God’s imperious or punishing will. It would be unreasonable and therefore impossible and contradictory to God’s nature for the confusion and perversity brought about by sin to remain. Hence the famous conclusion: “It is necessary that either satisfaction or punishment follow every sin” (necesse est, ut omne peccatum satisfactio aut poena sequatur. I, Ch. 15). In view of the fact that punishment (poena) in this case implied the destruction of man and thereby the frustration of God’s plan for a kingdom of rational beings who serve Him, the only remaining alternative was to provide a remedy (satisfactio).
Man is unable to make such satisfaction. For inasmuch as man is obligated to perfect obedience to God’s will, nothing that he can do could be considered a fitting recompense for the wrong which was done. Anything that man might do is simply his appropriate duty. Sin is a greater evil than we can comprehend, since it is an insult to God’s honor and a violation of the divine plan for the world. Because of this, an infinite compensation was required, greater than all that there is apart from God. Hence, no one can repay God for all that man owes Him because of sin, except one who is greater than all that there is apart from God, viz., God Himself. “Anselm: Therefore none but God can make this satisfaction. Boso: So it appears. Anselm: But none but a man ought to do this, otherwise man does not make the satisfaction. Boso: Nothing seems more just. Anselm: If it be necessary, therefore, as it appears, that the heavenly kingdom be made up of men, and this cannot be effected unless the aforesaid satisfaction be made, which none but God can make and none but man ought to make, it is necessary for the God-man to make it.” (II, Ch. 6)
Christ, who is both God and man, is therefore the only one who could make amends for man’s guilt. This satisfaction was made, according to Anselm, not through Christ’s life, for His obedience was only that which He owed to God, but rather through His death. Christ was not subject to death, but He subjected Himself to it voluntarily and thereby acquired merit which shall forever redeem the sins of all men. By making this merit available for man as satisfaction for sin, Christ thereby repaired the broken plan, and man was reconciled to God. “Now you see how reason of necessity shows that the celestial state must be made up from men, and that this can only be by the forgiveness of sins, which man can never have but by man, who must be at the same time divine, and reconcile sinners to God by His own death.” (II, Ch. 15)
Anselm’s theory of the Atonement developed the juridical (or forensic) point of view: the Atonement is a satisfactio vicaria, which in a superabundant manner redeemed the guilt of all men and thereby restored God’s offended honor. That the merit which Christ acquired through His voluntary death can be transferred to the human race is dependent on a divine decree. How this fits into the history of salvation is not clear, but this is consistent with the rational basis which, as noted above, involves the logical demonstration of the necessity of the Incarnation independent of the Bible.
To some extent Anselm found the model for his theory of the Atonement in the medieval practice of penance, with its careful weighing of offense and satisfaction. The deliberate one-sidedness of Cur Deus homo makes it necessary for us to conclude that this writing was not representative of scholasticism’s doctrine of the Atonement taken as a whole. Thomas Aquinas, for example (who provides us with a suitable comparison), related satisfaction to the idea that Christ was the second Adam, the head of a new humanity. This description is more fully in agreement with Biblical categories. Christ is presented not only as the individual God-man, whose satisfaction has been transferred to man, but also as the head of the congregation which participates in His death and resurrection through faith and Baptism. This concept goes beyond the purely juridical evaluation of the merits won by someone else.
Abelard’s understanding of the Atonement was very different from Anselm’s. As he saw it, Christ’s death has salvatory power only in the sense that it awakens reciprocal love in our lives and so destroys our sins. Christ’s life and message were interpreted in a similar manner. Anselm’s book Cur Deus homo does not tell us how the individual receives Christ’s atonement, but Abelard provided an answer to this question. Said he, forgiveness is provided on the basis of the love awakened within us through Christ’s example. Not many have agreed with Abelard on this point. The medieval era was dominated by the idea that the Atonement comes to us as an infused grace received through the sacraments.
The Question of Grace and Nature
The older scholasticism based its exposition of grace and justification (as well as many other things) on the Augustinian heritage. The fundamental distinction between grace and nature was not recognized at that time, as it was by the later scholastics, who began to use the concept of the supernatural (supernaturalis) to describe the way in which grace is related to nature. Such early scholastics as Anselm and Peter Lombard described the work of grace chiefly as the restoration of nature. They did not, therefore, think of it as elevating man above nature. The numerous questions which were treated in this context were usually answered on the anthropological level. This can be illustrated by the following typically Anselmian trend of thought:
Originally, by virtue of the grace bestowed on him at Creation, man possessed righteousness (iustitia); this consisted of the proper attitude (rectitudo) of the will, and its ability to practice virtue. As a result of the Fall, man lost the rectitude of his will, and he therefore lacks the possibility of being righteous on the strength of his own power. He cannot deal justly, for to do so presupposes the proper volitional qualities. Inasmuch as righteousness depends on the will’s rectitudo, it cannot be achieved by an act of man’s will. Neither can the perverseness of the will be altered by an external influence, i.e., from any created thing. Thus it is that man can be justified only by grace (gratia praeveniens or operans). Furthermore, if the proper attitude of the will is to be maintained once it has been restored, the assistance of grace is required. For man can retain righteousness only by willing it. And this proper attitude of the will is the work of grace. Hence it follows that righteousness can be preserved only by grace (gratia subsequens or cooperans).
Those who have followed the Augustinian line have usually juxtaposed operating and cooperating grace with living faith (fides viva). Merit does not precede grace. Because the will is bent in upon itself (incurvitas, the opposite of rectitudo), its lack of righteousness makes it impossible for the will to cooperate in bringing man to salvation. Faith and righteousness mutually condition one another: for to will what is right requires faith (the knowledge of the truth), and to have faith requires a “right will.” Both of these are the product of grace, which repairs the ruin of nature and restores its original righteousness (gratia sanans). The order in which this is done is described, for example, in the following way: through the infusion of grace, which must come first, the will is turned toward a new objective, and new stirrings are awakened in man. He deplores his sin and thereby receives the forgiveness of sin.
It was not until early in the 13th century (a theologian named Philip the Chancellor marks the transition) that men began to speak of grace as a supernatural gift which elevates man above nature so that he can share in the divine (gratia elevans). As already pointed out, this idea was characteristic of the theology of “high scholasticism.”
Within the context of the history of dogma, scholasticism refers to the theology which took form in the Western universities beginning in the middle of the 11th century, reached its culmination in the 13th century, deteriorated in the late Middle Ages, and was finally destroyed by humanism and the Reformation.
The distinguishing characteristic of scholasticism was its use of the philosophic method. The scholastics employed the dialectical system which was inherited from antiquity and was introduced into the philosophy taught in the schools and universities which flourished in the Middle Ages under the protection of the church and the cloisters. The scholastic approach developed when men began to subject the traditional material to an independent dialectical treatment. In addition to the Scriptures and tradition, the positions adopted by various teachers (“doctors”) also came to play an important role. Other persons commented on their writings, around which separate “schools” were formed, and one system succeeded another. The dialectical method led by degrees to an endless division of theological problems; speculation was carried further and further, even to peripheral details.
Such expressions as “scholastic” and “scholastical” have often been used to designate a formalistic, sterile kind of theology, the presentation of which is confused and encumbered by the inclusion of unnecessary distinctions and empty rationalizing. As a general evaluation of medieval scholasticism, however, this is misleading. Medieval scholasticism was frequently degenerate, to be sure, but at its best it represented a serious activity, in which theological problems were skillfully and energetically studied. One cannot deny that this tradition possessed a plethora of ideas and observations, presented with logical discernment.
But why has scholastic theology been so hard to understand? The chief reason for this, perhaps, is that the philosophical tradition on which medieval university education was constructed has been replaced in more recent times by other presuppositions. As a result, our knowledge of the older forms of thought, which were dependent on antiquity, has to a large extent disappeared.
The usual estimate of scholasticism has frequently been influenced by the criticisms of humanism and the Reformation. Because of this, it is fairly easy to think of scholasticism as a uniform school of thought. But this is not the case. Many different schools were represented in this category. At the same time, scholasticism experienced a long and varied development, from the original form to the complicated and in many respects degenerate speculations of the late Middle Ages.
Two factors above all contributed to the development of scholasticism: church renewal on the one hand, which expressed itself in monastic reform (of. the Cluny reform, e.g.), and on the other hand the increased association with the philosophical education of the time. The cloister and cathedral schools of this era, like the universities which later grew out of them, developed a form of instruction which was based on the educational heritage of antiquity. As a result of this, theological material, too, was studied in accordance with philosophical methods and thought forms. At the outset, logic was looked upon as the basic science. The writings of Aristotle in the field of logic were made available through Boethius (see above). The Aristotelian metaphysics was not used in theological instruction until later on, but once introduced it served as one of the most important presuppositions for the construction of the “high scholastic” systems.
The Lord’s Supper
A doctrinal controversy which to a certain extent represented a continuation of the dispute concerning the Lord’s Supper in the Carolingian period arose in the middle of the 11th century. Berengar of Tours (d. 1088) protested against the increased acceptance of the idea that the elements are changed by the words of consecration. This theological position, which was developed by Radbertus, was frequently combined with the superficial and naive idea that the body of Christis divided into just as many pieces as the host consisted of, etc. Berengar defended the Augustinian position, as Ratramnus had, and he rejected the idea of a change as being unreasonable. The consecration means only that the elements are given a new, spiritual meaning. For the faithful, the elements are signs (signa) or pledges (pignora) of the receiving of the heavenly Christ. The substance of the elements does not change, said Berengar, but they do become a “sacrament,” the bearers of an invisible gift.
Berengar’s position, which was officially condemned at a number of synods, and which he himself was forced to deny many times, was opposed by Lanfranc (d. 1089, Archbishop of Canterbury). Lanfranc and other theologians developed the idea that the elements actually change, even though their external characteristics remain the same. The whole of Christ was said to be present in every part of the host, and is received by both believers and unbelievers. These men also rejected the mediating position which is called impanation or consubstantiation. This idea held that the elements retain not only their external characteristics but also their own natural substance, while at the same time serving as the bearers of the presence of Christ as a new, heavenly substance. This theory was later adopted by the nominalists in the late Middle Ages.
The doctrine of transubstantiation (an expression coined by the early scholastics) was subsequently established by Pope Innocent III at the Fourth Lateran Council of 1215. It was decreed there that “the bread in the Lord’s Supper is changed by the power of God into the body of Christ, and the wine into the blood of Christ.” (Cf. below, pp. 193–94)
The Controversy Between Nominalism And Realism
Anselm of Canterbury (d. 1109, abbot of the cloister at Bee in Normandy, from 1093 archbishop of Canterbury) is remembered as the renewer of the Augustinian tradition and the founder of scholasticism. In his book De fide Trinitatis Anselm opposed the point of view which was called nominalism and which was supported by a number of contemporary dialeeticians, among them Roscellinus. Nominalism held that man’s universal concepts are nothing more than word pictures or names, which we use to identify what is common to various objects in the same category. Anselm maintained that concepts which are not perceived by the senses but which are formed by our rational powers are nevertheless representative of something real, a reality of a higher variety, comprehensible only to reason (universalia sunt res). This point of view, in opposition to the former, was called realism. The philosophical debate in which Anselm thus became involved had a great influence on church doctrine as he saw it. For in his opinion the nominalist position contradicted the church’s doctrine of the Trinity, as well as its Christology, inasmuch as it subverted the very foundation on which these doctrines were based. The thought was this: If one cannot distinguish between an object and its qualities, neither can one distinguish between God and His relations. The doctrine of the Trinity presupposes a distinction between God’s substance and the three Persons in the Godhead, and thus it follows that reality is ascribed to the substance itself. The nominalists assumed that reality could be ascribed only to that which is particular. As a result, the three Persons could be conceived of only as three substances. This would mean that nominalism presented either a tritheistic point of view or a monotheism which eliminated every distinction between Persons. In respect to the Christological question, Anselm argued along similar lines: If a person does not distinguish between the individual man and the universal concept of “man,” how can he believe that the Son of God took upon Himself human nature? For Christ did not assume a human person but only human nature.
At the same time, an extreme point of view developed side by side with Anselm’s more moderate realism. The extremists emphasized the reality of the universals in such a way that individual objects became nothing more than modifications of the common substance, thus losing their independent reality (cf. William of Champeaux). But this school of thought, as well as extreme nominalism, was opposed by one of the most famous theologians of the age, Peter Abelard (d. 1142, active in Paris and elsewhere).
Abelard was a highly controversial figure in the theological arena, who was more than once accused of heresy. But in the dispute about the reality of the universals, he developed a mediating position which was generally accepted, even by the high scholastics. Abelard distinguished between concepts as merely a complex of sounds on the one hand (voces) and as designations of reality on the other (signa). Entities for which concepts serve as signs do not exist apart from things as independent substances. But at the same time, definite reality can be ascribed to universal concepts: they exist prior to things, as the pattern of design in the mind of God. Furthermore, they exist in individual objects as their form or substance. And as designations of that which is common to various individuals they exist in our consciousness. This modified realism was subsequently adapted by Thomas Aquinas, who expressed his position in the formula “universals before things, in things, and after things” (universalia ante res, in rebus et post res).
The Development of the Theological Method
As seen from one point of view, scholasticism was an independent treatment of the doctrinal tradition inherited from the past. As already noted, this new theological presentation was made with the assistance of philosophy, used in one way or another. There was no parallel to this in the Eastern Church, which was for the most part content to preserve the dogmatic decisions made by the church fathers.
The man who was above all responsible for the scholastic development of the inherited tradition was Anselm of Canterbury. He did not himself produce a comprehensive study of dogmatics, but in a large number of modest books and meditations he demonstrated his sagacity with respect to individual points of doctrine. His point of departure for theological thought was a living, experiential faith. “Whoever has not believed will not understand. For whoever has not believed will not gain experience; and whoever has not gained experience will not understand.” Meditation and theological speculation belong together. Anselm sought to advance from faith to a knowledge of faith's mysteries (fides quaerens intellectum). He desired to use the powers of reason as much as possible in his examination of the rational bases (rationes necessariae) of revealed truth. This method did not by any means suggest contempt for authority (Scripture and tradition); it was rather an attempt to utilize all available means to investigate and establish the truth of faith. As nearly as we can tell from the content of his point of view, Anselm was a faithful follower of Augustine.
Peter Abelard also exerted a powerful influence on the formation of the theological method. It was he who introduced the dialectical method, which was a bold attempt to combine authority and reason, faith and free scholarship. In his book Sic et non he posited propositions from the Christian tradition, to which he appended other statements, also drawn from Christian sources, which appeared to contradict them. He then proceeded to reconcile these opposed points of view. As he saw it, this can be done in three ways: (1) by scrutinizing these statements critically in the light of history, in order to determine their relationship; (2) by grading them on the basis of authority: the Bible is alone infallible, while the church fathers could be in error; (3) by throwing light on traditional truth by using reason and universal rational principles.
Abelard proceeded on the basis that faith and reason cannot contradict each other, since they issue from the same source—divine truth. Because this is so, he felt, one can subject the truth of faith to the test of reason without any danger. But why do this? In order not only to repeat that which is authoritative but to elucidate it.
The two Victorines, Hugo and Richard of St. Victor, who were in charge of the famous school in Paris that bore this name, went beyond Anselm in this direction. In their adaptation of tradition, they combined rational speculation with contemplative involvement. In his book De sacramentis Christianae fidei Hugo of St. Victor gave us scholasticism’s first comprehensive treatment of dogmatics. (He used the word “sacrament” to refer to sacred things in general, to all aspects of the Christian faith.) The plan of the book followed the history of salvation. Richard’s magnum opus was a discussion of the doctrine of the Trinity (in six volumes).
Hugo distinguished between meditation and contemplation. And while such distinctions are quite foreign to our way of thinking today, this was characteristic of the theological method of his time. Meditation, which was closely related to prayer, implied a search for truth; its objective was to enkindle the love of God in human hearts. Contemplation presupposed the overcoming of desire, and the illumination of the soul by the light of the truth. There were two kinds of contemplation: speculation, the dispassionate and scrupulous considering of the truth, and contemplation proper, the highest form of dedication to knowledge, the comprehensive view, which presupposes that the soul is filled with joy and peace, that it rests in the truth, and that it has attained to the perfect love of God.
Peter Lombard (d. 1160) combined the meditative adaptation of tradition provided by Anselm and the Victorines with Abelard’s dialectic method. His well-known magnum opus, Libri quattuor sententiarum, encompassed the entire field of dogmatics. Its great significance can be attributed above all to the fact that it provided an orderly and lucid account of traditional doctrine. The volume is divided into four books:
(I) “Concerning the Trinitarian Mystery”; (II) “Concerning Creation”; (III) “Concerning the Incarnation of the Word and the Restoration of the Human Race”; (IV) “Concerning the Doctrine of Signs.”
With respect to the various questions of detail which are quoted pro and con out of the Bible and the church fathers, Lombard sought with the aid of the dialectical method to show how such contradictory statements could be brought into agreement. His own position was very moderate. He acknowledged that philosophy could be of some help in providing solutions to the questions at hand, but he appealed to the recognized authorities (above all, the Scriptures) as being decisive in such matters.
Lombard’s Sentences—as his work is often called—were of fundamental importance for theological instruction in the Middle Ages, right up to the time of the Reformation. A huge number of commentaries and expositions based on this book have been preserved, many of them only in manuscript form.
Faith and Reason
Anselm, like Augustine before him, represented that position with respect to faith and reason which was customarily characterized by the expression, “I believe in order that I may understand” (credo ut intelligam). Basing their opinion on the words found in Is. 7:9 (Vulgate), “If you do not believe, you will not understand,” those who follow this line emphasize that faith is the presupposition of a rational insight into revealed truth. As Augustine put it, understanding is the reward of faith.
Anselm developed this position in more detail, among other places, in his Proslogion. It is clearly expressed, for example, in the following passage: “I do not attempt, Lord, to penetrate Thy depth, for by no means do I compare my intellect with it; but I desire to understand, to a degree, Thy truth, which my heart believes and loves. For I do not seek to understand in order that I may believe, but I believe in order that I may understand.” (Ch. 1)
A similar statement appears in another work by Anselm, Cur Deus homo: “As it is the proper order that we should believe the deep things of the Christian faith before we presume to discuss them by reason, so it seems negligent to me if, after we have been established in the faith, we do not seek to understand what we believe.” (I, Ch. 2)
The credo ut intelligam concept presupposes that theology and philosophy can be harmonized. That which forms the content of faith, and which man comprehends by faith, can also be understood by reason—at least to some extent. Faith and the principles of reason are not antithetical. It is the task of theology to present the content of faith in such a way that it can be understood and comprehended. For this reason, according to Anselm, theology must follow philosophical principles and use the assistance of logic. It is faith, however, which has the primacy, for man does not come to faith through reason; but on the contrary understanding comes by faith. The role of reason is simply to make clear, a posteriori, that the truths of faith are necessary even as seen from the point of view of logic and reason. For it is only after one has grasped revealed truth in faith that he is able, through rational discussion and meditation, to perceive that that which he believes is also agreeable to reason.
A good example of Anselm’s argumentation is to be found in the so-called ontological proof of the existence of God, presented in his Proslogion. Faith conceives of God as the highest and most perfect being. This concept can be grasped intellectually even by those who deny the existence of God (cf. Ps. 14:1). That which is the highest conceivable cannot, however, exist only in the intellect. For then that which does actually exist—which is a condition superior to existing only as an idea—would be elevated above the highest conceivable, which would be unreasonable. Therefore one must assume that there is a highest being which exists both in the intellect and in reality.
The ontological proof was subject to various kinds of criticism even during the Middle Ages. Thomas Aquinas did not accept it; he rather held to the cosmological proof. He criticized Anselm’s thought in this way: Assuming that God is the highest conceivable, and that a real existence is superior to one that is merely imagined—this does not prove the existence of God. The only conclusion one can draw is that if God is the highest conceivable, He must be thought to exist in reality. But reality cannot be verified in this manner, for it is not a quality which can be ascribed to an object in the same way as other qualities. Reality cannot be verified as a logical necessity, inasmuch as it does not belong to the sphere of logic.
To Anselm faith implied attachment to the revealed truth. But this was not simply an intellectual attachment; neither was it, therefore, merely an assumption, as some have thought. As far as Anselm was concerned, faith is related to love. Faith thus involves a volitional aspect—the concentration of the will on the object in which one has faith.
According to Hugo of St. Victor, faith is part cognition, part affection. Basically, as he saw it, faith is an act of the will, a volitional grasping of the content of faith involving three distinct stages. Hugo based these distinctions upon whether one was devoted to faith only on the basis of reverence (sola pietate), or with the consent of reason (cum approbatione rationis), or with an inner attraction and a certainty which comes from personal experience.
Abelard emphasized more strongly that faith is a form of knowledge. The will is motivated by the act of knowing, and to this extent there is a volitional aspect in faith. But it was of a secondary nature as far as Abelard was concerned, and in this he differed from Anselm and Hugo, who felt that faith is primarily an act of the will. Anselm and Hugo also believed that the content of faith is suprarational, whereas Abelard tended to look on faith as a form of necessary knowledge, analogous to philosophical knowledge.
Anselm’s Theory of the Atonement
In his well-known book Cur Deus homo Anselm gave us a lucid exposition of the problem of the Atonement or, more correctly, of the Incarnation. This presentation, too, comes under the rubriccredo ut intelligam. Anselm did not simply intend to provide a theological interpretation of the work of Christ but to demonstrate that the doctrines of the Incarnation and of the Atonement wrought through the death of Christ are borne up by a logical necessity. Anselm claimed that one could prove that this and nothing else had to happen, even apart from the testimony of revelation. As a result, he desired above all to serve those who already believe, but also to shame those who scoff at the faith.
The question which Anselm used as a point of departure was this: “On what basis or for which urgent reasons did God become man so that by His death, as we believe and confess, He thereby gave life to the world? Why did He do this, inasmuch as it could have been done either through some other person, angel or man, or simply by His will?” (I, Ch. 1)
Anselm’s book is in the form of a dialog between himself and Boso, one of his disciples. Boso asks the questions, and Anselm answers them.
The teaching of satisfaction in Anselm’s theory has its background in cosmology and in the history of salvation. Anselm believed that God, in His wisdom and love, had decided from eternity to establish a kingdom of rational beings, obedient to His royal will, dwelling under His dominion. When a fall took place in the angel world, thereby diminishing the number of spiritual beings who were to live in this kingdom, God created man to replace the fallen angels. Human destiny, therefore, is to live under God’s dominion and to obey His will. When man fell away from God through an act of disobedience, the entire divine plan for the universe was disturbed, and God was deprived of His honor. This was not simply a personal insult; it was also a violation of God’s majesty and of the plan He had ordained for the world. It was unthinkable that God’s plan should go unfulfilled, or that God should have to endure this insult to His honor, occasioned by man’s fall into sin. “Anselm: In the order of things, there is nothing less to be endured than that the creature should take away the honor due the Creator, and not restore what he has taken away …. Therefore the honor taken away must be repaid, or punishment must follow; otherwise, either God will not be just to Himself, or He Will be weak in respect to both parties; and this it is impious even to think of. Boso: I think that nothing more reasonable can be said.” (I, Ch. 13)
It was therefore necessary, as seen from the point of view of the plan God had willed for the world, that this wrong should either be remedied or punished. God could not surrender the plan He had established, and neither men nor angels could escape God’s imperious or punishing will. It would be unreasonable and therefore impossible and contradictory to God’s nature for the confusion and perversity brought about by sin to remain. Hence the famous conclusion: “It is necessary that either satisfaction or punishment follow every sin” (necesse est, ut omne peccatum satisfactio aut poena sequatur. I, Ch. 15). In view of the fact that punishment (poena) in this case implied the destruction of man and thereby the frustration of God’s plan for a kingdom of rational beings who serve Him, the only remaining alternative was to provide a remedy (satisfactio).
Man is unable to make such satisfaction. For inasmuch as man is obligated to perfect obedience to God’s will, nothing that he can do could be considered a fitting recompense for the wrong which was done. Anything that man might do is simply his appropriate duty. Sin is a greater evil than we can comprehend, since it is an insult to God’s honor and a violation of the divine plan for the world. Because of this, an infinite compensation was required, greater than all that there is apart from God. Hence, no one can repay God for all that man owes Him because of sin, except one who is greater than all that there is apart from God, viz., God Himself. “Anselm: Therefore none but God can make this satisfaction. Boso: So it appears. Anselm: But none but a man ought to do this, otherwise man does not make the satisfaction. Boso: Nothing seems more just. Anselm: If it be necessary, therefore, as it appears, that the heavenly kingdom be made up of men, and this cannot be effected unless the aforesaid satisfaction be made, which none but God can make and none but man ought to make, it is necessary for the God-man to make it.” (II, Ch. 6)
Christ, who is both God and man, is therefore the only one who could make amends for man’s guilt. This satisfaction was made, according to Anselm, not through Christ’s life, for His obedience was only that which He owed to God, but rather through His death. Christ was not subject to death, but He subjected Himself to it voluntarily and thereby acquired merit which shall forever redeem the sins of all men. By making this merit available for man as satisfaction for sin, Christ thereby repaired the broken plan, and man was reconciled to God. “Now you see how reason of necessity shows that the celestial state must be made up from men, and that this can only be by the forgiveness of sins, which man can never have but by man, who must be at the same time divine, and reconcile sinners to God by His own death.” (II, Ch. 15)
Anselm’s theory of the Atonement developed the juridical (or forensic) point of view: the Atonement is a satisfactio vicaria, which in a superabundant manner redeemed the guilt of all men and thereby restored God’s offended honor. That the merit which Christ acquired through His voluntary death can be transferred to the human race is dependent on a divine decree. How this fits into the history of salvation is not clear, but this is consistent with the rational basis which, as noted above, involves the logical demonstration of the necessity of the Incarnation independent of the Bible.
To some extent Anselm found the model for his theory of the Atonement in the medieval practice of penance, with its careful weighing of offense and satisfaction. The deliberate one-sidedness of Cur Deus homo makes it necessary for us to conclude that this writing was not representative of scholasticism’s doctrine of the Atonement taken as a whole. Thomas Aquinas, for example (who provides us with a suitable comparison), related satisfaction to the idea that Christ was the second Adam, the head of a new humanity. This description is more fully in agreement with Biblical categories. Christ is presented not only as the individual God-man, whose satisfaction has been transferred to man, but also as the head of the congregation which participates in His death and resurrection through faith and Baptism. This concept goes beyond the purely juridical evaluation of the merits won by someone else.
Abelard’s understanding of the Atonement was very different from Anselm’s. As he saw it, Christ’s death has salvatory power only in the sense that it awakens reciprocal love in our lives and so destroys our sins. Christ’s life and message were interpreted in a similar manner. Anselm’s book Cur Deus homo does not tell us how the individual receives Christ’s atonement, but Abelard provided an answer to this question. Said he, forgiveness is provided on the basis of the love awakened within us through Christ’s example. Not many have agreed with Abelard on this point. The medieval era was dominated by the idea that the Atonement comes to us as an infused grace received through the sacraments.
The Question of Grace and Nature
The older scholasticism based its exposition of grace and justification (as well as many other things) on the Augustinian heritage. The fundamental distinction between grace and nature was not recognized at that time, as it was by the later scholastics, who began to use the concept of the supernatural (supernaturalis) to describe the way in which grace is related to nature. Such early scholastics as Anselm and Peter Lombard described the work of grace chiefly as the restoration of nature. They did not, therefore, think of it as elevating man above nature. The numerous questions which were treated in this context were usually answered on the anthropological level. This can be illustrated by the following typically Anselmian trend of thought:
Originally, by virtue of the grace bestowed on him at Creation, man possessed righteousness (iustitia); this consisted of the proper attitude (rectitudo) of the will, and its ability to practice virtue. As a result of the Fall, man lost the rectitude of his will, and he therefore lacks the possibility of being righteous on the strength of his own power. He cannot deal justly, for to do so presupposes the proper volitional qualities. Inasmuch as righteousness depends on the will’s rectitudo, it cannot be achieved by an act of man’s will. Neither can the perverseness of the will be altered by an external influence, i.e., from any created thing. Thus it is that man can be justified only by grace (gratia praeveniens or operans). Furthermore, if the proper attitude of the will is to be maintained once it has been restored, the assistance of grace is required. For man can retain righteousness only by willing it. And this proper attitude of the will is the work of grace. Hence it follows that righteousness can be preserved only by grace (gratia subsequens or cooperans).
Those who have followed the Augustinian line have usually juxtaposed operating and cooperating grace with living faith (fides viva). Merit does not precede grace. Because the will is bent in upon itself (incurvitas, the opposite of rectitudo), its lack of righteousness makes it impossible for the will to cooperate in bringing man to salvation. Faith and righteousness mutually condition one another: for to will what is right requires faith (the knowledge of the truth), and to have faith requires a “right will.” Both of these are the product of grace, which repairs the ruin of nature and restores its original righteousness (gratia sanans). The order in which this is done is described, for example, in the following way: through the infusion of grace, which must come first, the will is turned toward a new objective, and new stirrings are awakened in man. He deplores his sin and thereby receives the forgiveness of sin.
It was not until early in the 13th century (a theologian named Philip the Chancellor marks the transition) that men began to speak of grace as a supernatural gift which elevates man above nature so that he can share in the divine (gratia elevans). As already pointed out, this idea was characteristic of the theology of “high scholasticism.”
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