Monday 25 September 2017

Tentative Thoughts on Participation...

This is a somewhat tentative exploration of the doctrine of participation and its meaning, inspired by a variety of reading that I have done on the subject. Hopefully in the upcoming months I will be involved in more intensive studies, and will be able to explore the subject with more depth and recourse to texts and authorities.

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In logic, as in the Categories of Aristotle, substance is said primarily of the individual in a genus or species, which is a composite, and secondarily of the genus or species itself. The individual substance as such is predicated of nothing, though it is itself the subject of many predications. The logician is here considering things according to how they are defined in speech; the naming of things accordingly is a kind of mental construction, built to reflect the structure of understanding rather than the structure of reality itself directly. 

In metaphysics, the case is quite different. The metaphysician considers things according to an understanding of their intrinsic and real order outside the mind. It is not so much a question of speech as it is of existence. Individual beings, as considered by metaphysics, are dependent and composite, inasmuch as their very substantiality is communicated to them by one of their parts, namely their form. It is, indeed, from the form that the matter and the whole composite receive the notion of "what it is," that is, that it is "this something." The form, which is actuality, is thus said to have the notion of substantiality in a manner that is simply prior to the substantiality of matter and the composite itself. In other words, form considered in itself exists more independently and on its own right than even the composite itself, and in the composite, it is the form which gives substantiality to the whole.

From this, Aristotle easily infers the existence of absolutely prior forms which exist without composition with matter: these are the separate intelligible substances, beings of a purely spiritual nature. These separate intelligible beings bear the notion of substance in a way that is simple, uncontracted, and whole, in comparison to the partial and contracted manner in which sensible things bear this notion, i.e. by participation in form. Intelligible substances are uncontracted and unlimited form; sensible substances are contracted and limited actualities, because their forms exist in matter. In other words, intelligible substances bear the notion of substantiality through themselves, composite substances through their forms.

Plato thought that the separate substances were the same in species as - or that they were the species of - sensible composites. Aristotle denies the sameness in species simply speaking, but he maintains the existence of separate substances which stand in some way as archetypes of actuality to the lesser and more contracted actualities of sensible beings, which are mixed with and limited by potency. St. Thomas makes this even more evident, and develops a full doctrine of participation that is inspired by Plato but harmonious with Aristotle, drawing out its full implications with regard to the participation of creatures by likeness in the divine being itself.

In some sense, for St. Thomas, it remains that sensible substances are some kind of image with respect to intelligible substances, insofar as they participate in some likeness of the actuality of the latter. There is a fullness of actuality to which one might think the form of a man indeed corresponds, but as a limited and contracted actuality. This fullness of actuality would not in fact be "Man Itself," as if it were the specific form of a man existing in a real, separate, but abstract mode; in this sense, then, Plato errs in positing the separate species of sensible particulars. Nonetheless, the particular man does bear a real relation to some fuller actuality which is not limited by matter, and of which the form of a man is really only a contracted image in matter. Plato is thus perfectly correct to insist that the archetypes in which sensible creatures participate are more real than sensible creatures themselves, quite by definition, for they possess a fuller, more complete, and simpler actuality. Participation thus means, for Thomas (in full harmony with Aristotle) as well as for Plato, the reception by a limited and particular thing of that which belongs in a more universal and complete way to something else. It is important to emphasize here that, for both Thomas and Plato, this received or participated nature is found in a more universal way in something that, indeed, actually exists, something that is truly one in number, and hence universal in the very mode of its being. Ultimately, any finite or composed creature, even a separate substance such as an angel, bears a relation of participation to God Himself, inasmuch as God is supersubstantial being in Himself, perfect simplicity and pure actuality, absolutely uncontracted by any admixture or potency, devoid of all composition - whether of matter and form or of essence and existence. All thing, sensible or intelligible, participate in Him by likeness insofar as they possess some measure of actuality, in being or in form. This God is the One, or the Good, of Plato, the ultimate transcendent first principle, the source and archetype of all things.

However, for St. Thomas, this universality of being is strictly distinguished from that sense of universality which is according to predication, i.e. something merely said of many. This is precisely what, despite the profound truth of his doctrine, Plato seemingly failed to distinguish (according to the most common reading of him): universality of being, on the one hand, and universality of predication, on the other hand. The separate substances which he posited were understood to be the species of things; and species is an intentional category, a predicable term. "Man itself," or "humanity," is something said of many, and thus it is a universal predicate, and as such a being of the mind. Plato supposed - according to the most common reading of him - that this species was also a universal being existing actually in concreto, that is, outside the mind, but in a manner free from the conditions of particularity. But Plato is here jumping from the way we speak - again the logical consideration of things - to the way things actually are - which is a metaphysical consideration. He supposed that, from the fact that we say the same thing about various instances, it must follow that there is some separate reality which corresponds to the common attribute named, i.e. that the spoken universal corresponded to some really existing universal being, one in number but somehow causal of all the instances which take part in it. Aristotle and Thomas realized, more moderately, that from common predicates, it does not follow that there is some common species that exists separately, but merely that all the individual instances are alike in form. There is indeed a commonality among them, but that commonality is something one only insofar as it is abstracted by the intellect, and thereby exists as a unity in the intellect. Outside the intellect it only exists in multiplicity, that is in the multitude of particulars of which it is the species. In other words, its existence as one and universal is merely intentional, and thus predicative, rather than truly causal or real.

This distinction is crucial, for if it is not maintained, then we fall easily into pantheism, by seeking to maintain that the common species of things is also some real existing thing that is separate and one in number, but still informs the things of which it is the species. All things are divinized by their common sharing of a single form which is a divine being in itself. Doubtless, Thomas and Aristotle are concerned to maintain the divinity of form in things - not, however, by conceiving it as a single divine being that somehow inheres in a multiplicity of beings, but as a contracted and multiplied image of something other and separate that is itself more divine and one in number, such as an angel, or ultimately God Himself. Thus, the truth of participation is maintained, but the error of pantheism avoided.

Thus, Plato, Aristotle, and Thomas could be seen to be in profound agreement that particular things really do participate in an actuality that belongs more universally to something else that really exists as a separate substance, and ultimately the divine substance. But this universal substance is not, for Aristotle and Thomas, a species of any sensible thing or things, as it was for Plato, but it is entirely its own species; that is, what is universal in being, in which particulars participate, is not also universal in predication, and vice versa. Nonetheless, it remains true to affirm, with Plato, that that substance in which lesser beings participate is truly a real, and separately existing substance - indeed, it is more real and more substantial in itself than anything which participates in it.

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There is a question emerging in all of this, for those who know St. Thomas well, concerning the role that the divine ideas might play in relation to participation. According to a certain understanding, it seems appropriate to say that, for Thomas, the divine ideas essentially replace the Platonic forms, and that creatures might be said to participate by a kind of likeness in the divine ideas themselves, just as Plato would say they participate in the forms or separate species. (This post is largely informed by this way of thinking.) According to such a reading of St. Thomas, the Platonic notion of form is saved by replacing the forms within the divine intellect, since only in this way could their intelligible mode of existence really be maintained - for it is ultimately impossible to say that, as intelligible species, they have a separate existence all of their own, as Aristotle showed. But recently, after reading from Gregory Doolan's book on the divine ideas in St. Thomas, I have become less sure of this reading of St. Thomas, specifically the interpretation according to which creatures participate in a divine idea. Certainly the divine ideas, as Plato's forms, play some sort of causal role towards creatures, but it is less clear how that role corresponds to a notion of participation. As we have seen thus far, St. Thomas preserves Plato's doctrine of participation, but he seems to shift it away from the species and towards the separate substances which have their greater real universality in virtue of being more actual, simply speaking. In other words, it is a notion of participation which takes less account of the kinds of things, but more account of their very thing-hood, i.e. their substantiality. (It is of supreme interest that, whereas pre-Aquinas it seems that the fundamental tension between Plato and Aristotle is participation versus substantiality, for St. Thomas these two things cannot be conceived apart from each other.) Substantiality is the primary attribute of being as being. Thus, according to this account, it is in regard to their being, rather than their kind, their whatness (quidditas), or their essence, that they are said to participate in the divine substance.

So, again, here is the question: What, then, do the divine ideas have to do with participation? Anything at all? Is there anything more which Plato put forward about the ideas that might be saved, if perhaps modified, by St. Thomas and integrated with the metaphysics of Aristotle? Perhaps the above account of participation, which seems to focus on the substantiality of things, i.e. their existence, need not be exhaustive. Perhaps an even more complete account of participation will include some account of how things participate, according to their specific forms, in the divine ideas. Such an account would have to be careful to maintain the distinctions we have already made, i.e. between universals in re and in praedicando, but perhaps this is quite possible?

This is all for another post. Right now it is just a question, to which I am not yet sufficiently well-informed to have a solution which I comfortable to propose. Some other time, perhaps, after more study and reading, I will do my best to address this. But discussion is certainly welcome now.

Sunday 17 September 2017

Livin' in Leuven

The Institute of Philosophy at KU Leuven.*

I arrived in Leuven on Wednesday the 13th. I have begun to settle in to my living arrangement, and get used to the town itself. Leuven is a beautiful town, with several Gothic and Romanesque churches, many markets and shops, a few old monasteries (I'm living in one of them), lots of bikes, lots of pubs and breweries, and many other interesting things. Not least among the jewels of the quaint town is, of course, the university, KU Leuven, home to the Thomistic revival initiated by Cardinal Mercier in the 20th century, as well as the educational origin of many great names like Theodor Schwann, Otto von Hapsburg, and Charles DeKoninck.

Though historically a Catholic town and a Catholic university, it is, unsurprisingly, not especially easy to see Catholicism thriving in a very lively way here. Many of the churches are regularly kept locked; some of them are museums, or partially museums. As far as I can tell so far, the liturgy is not anything special anywhere here - apart from the fact that the monks at the Abbey of Keizersberg, where I am residing, sing parts of the mass and office in Latin, though otherwise the liturgy is less than ideal. It's a shame really. In my mind, the liturgy and the intellectual life have a very close connection, the former being something like the apex and culmination of the latter. The trajectory of the intellectual life is towards contemplation, and thus towards worship; so it seems natural that those who have a care for their intellects should also have a care for the manner in which they worship God. (I will write a lot more about this later... it is one of those profound thoughts which is simultaneously the most influential and the most mysterious to me.)

Sint Pieterskerk, in the town square and the center of Leuven

The Abbey Keizersberg, where I am residing, is an impressive, almost fortress-like building with parts of it from the 19th century - other parts of it were destroyed during World War II, but have been restored in accordance with the venerable and semi-ancient feel of the place. The abbey was founded by Blessed Columba Marmion, a great writer on Benedictine spirituality, who was its first abbot. The grounds of the abbey are open as a public park for visitors, and are extraordinarily peaceful and beautiful. I have already found it one of the best places to sit outside, smoke a pipe, do some reading, or take a walk and pray my rosary. The abbey sits on the top of a hill which is probably the highest point in Leuven, from which one can get an almost panoramic view of the city below. On the hill, there is an enormous and beautiful statue of the Blessed Mother holding the infant Christ, which one can see from certain spots in town.

Keizersberg Abbey

Courtyard within the cloister,
as seen from my bedroom window.

The giant statue on the hill.

I will be studying for an advanced research Master's degree at the Institute of Philosophy, at KU Leuven. The Institute consists of a small number of lovely buildings relatively close to the town center, less than a minute's walk away from the famous main library. The library at the Institute itself is also quite impressive, with a considerable collection of philosophical works from all the periods of history, stacked in four stories. I have only made one brief visit there so far, but I immediately fell in love, especially when I found the sections devoted to St. Thomas and to the Neoplatonists. I foresee many hours devoted to research and writing spent in this library, and probably a bit of blogging too. Here's hoping that the upcoming months will be highly productive, and that my time here will be well-spent in an undying devotion to and pursuit of wisdom and the good life.






*All photos taken by me.

Tuesday 5 September 2017

Movin' to Leuven

The Institute of Philosophy, at KU Leuven

One week from today, I will be flying out to Belgium to begin my graduate studies at the University of Leuven (KU Leuven) - where Charles De Koninck and other greats received their education. I have rather little idea of what the world of graduate school will be like in practice, but I anticipate a full immersion into the studies of ancient and medieval philosophy, and a fuller encounter with the world of academic scholarship in a fairly specialized philosophical setting. At Thomas Aquinas College, my studies were very broad - they encompassed everything from theology to the mathematical arts. This sort of education was, I think, extremely beneficial to my formation as a whole, and if I were to ever have the chance, I would do it again and probably benefit much more from it the second time. (It is a rather obnoxious paradox that growth in wisdom also entails a growth in receptivity to wisdom, so that one will always look back upon one's prior education with some regret that one did not benefit as much as one could have, and that one could benefit much more now, did circumstance permit it.)

However, there is a place in education also for specialization, and my time has come to specialize in ancient and medieval philosophy. As I have summarized before, my primary interests will be in Plato, Aristotle, Neoplatonism, and Thomas Aquinas: the task is largely to rediscover the harmony between Plato and Aristotle, and the influence of Plato and Platonism on Thomas Aquinas - and this will, I think, shed further light on the precise way in which Thomas was influenced by Aristotle himself as well. As a Thomist, one of my interests will be to bring to the Thomist world a renewed appreciation for the depth of the philosophical tradition which St. Thomas himself inherited. This will - and indeed it has, in some measure, for me - deepen the understanding of St. Thomas' own thought, both in philosophy and theology. This project is something I hope to write more about on this blog, as I progress with my studies.

. . . . . .

The next couple of weeks are most likely going to be rather busy for me. This week I need to do some preparations of my own, and as soon as I arrive in Leuven there will be all sorts of official procedures that I will need to follow - registrations, orientations, housing arrangements, and so forth. School officially begins for me on the 25th of September. Until I am actually spending the majority of my time studying and writing - when this blog will hopefully become something like a notebook of my discoveries - the blog may be somewhat slower, as I make the move and prepare for school.

Keizersberg Abbey, where I will be residing in Leuven.