Per Caritatem

The schedule for the upcoming conference, “The World and Christian Imagination,” (held at Baylor University) has been posted. If you plan to attend and are a student, the registration fee ($60) must be paid by Oct. 10 (after Oct. 10 the fee increases to $80). You can download registration forms here. Travel and hotel information can be found here.

[This is last post in the Oberman series. I hope to begin a new series of "guest posts" this weekend].

In section 4, “Pax and the Third Age,” Oberman observes that peace and concord were the “two most prominent themes in treatises and reform proposals throughout the later Middle Ages” (p. 29). We see a close connection in the late medieval mindset between reform and peace, which indicates that the threat of peace was understood as arising from within the Church. According to Oberman, the goals of conciliarism should not be understood primarily as anti-papal (though of course such sentiments could be found). In other words, the goal was to engage the current crisis of the Church with the intent to reform it and to “re-establish pax and concordia” (p. 30).

Oberman goes on to discuss the relationship between the sacred and the secular. The ever-present awareness of living in the “Third Age”—an age where the sacred was being threatened—brings about reflection on the mutual relationship between the sacred and the secular (p. 31). “Without the sanction of the sacred, the secular cannot provide for a truly human society. If this is the case, then a relation of the sacred and the secular is assumed which itself must disintegrate under the onslaught of the crisis of the later Middle Ages. When the very sources of peace and justice themselves can no longer be regarded as sacred, sanctioned and legitimated, the guarantee for peace and justice in state and society is henceforth seen in terms of partnership between the sacred and the secular, which provides enlightened, rational man with the basis of his covenanted responsibility” (p. 32).

In section 5, “Summa Misericordia … Super Summam Miseriam Directe Cadit” (“Highest mercy … falls immediately upon deepest misery”), Oberman examines three quotations from the early writings of the following theologians (Gerson, Staupitz, and Luther), all of which deal with the relationship “between Christ and the sinner in terms of love and marriage symbolism” (p. 33). Though each of the above passages have a mystical tone, the “mystical” aspect (i.e. the intimate union between God and the believer) is applicable or available to all believers and just a select few. The first point that Oberman emphasizes is that for Gerson the soul must be pure (“fully purged”) before it can experience the “embrace of the Bridegroom, where what is his, pure divinity, becomes yours and what is yours, pure humanity, becomes his.” This expresses a more or less tradition medieval position. In this exegetical tradition, the individual and the Church are interchangeable. Secondly, Gerson’s description of the penitent moving from a view of God as a punishing God to that of desirable, embracing Bridegroom shows that Luther’s so-called “personal” experience in regard to the (punishing) iustitia Dei of Rom 1:17 to the iustitia Christi for us harmonizes well with the medieval tradition of his day (p. 34). The second passage is from Staupitz. The significance of the passage from Staupitz is that on his account “purgation is not the precondition for that union in which justification takes place; instead purgation takes place in the marriage union itself” Sin alone (i.e., our being sinners) is the precondition for this exchange of possessions” (p. 35). Here we do not ascend to Christ, rather he descends to us for our justification. Again, we see the closing of the gap between the secular and the sacred. Third, Oberman examines a passage from Luther. As was the case with Staupitz, Luther too differs from Gerson in that the sinner in no way prepares him/herself for receiving Christ’s redemptive blessings, but rather is justified as a sinner. The distinguishing point between Luther and Staupitz is that “for Luther the union with Christ is mediated through his word, through faith in his promises” (p. 36). Also in distinction from Gerson, the Church (as is the case with the individual soul) is not first purified or purged as a precondition for restoration—such would impossible in Luther’s view. For Luther, reformation has a dual focus: (1) an “acknowledgement of the perpetual nature of the crisis of man and his society” [given our fallen condition] and (2) “the trust in the reality of the sacred embrace of the secular condition” (p. 37).

In sum, Oberman says that given what we have said so far, “we find no reason to conclude that the Reformation movement has a unique claim upon penetration into the modern era” (p. 37). Rather, the crisis of the late medieval period is perhaps best described as the “birth pangs of the Modern era” (p. 38).

Given the “crisis” state described in the previous section, Oberman seeks in this section (“The Search for New Security”) to focus on one aspect of the late medieval attempt to find “new forms of security, namely, the bridging of the distance between the sacred and the profane” (pp. 25-26). As Oberman explains, late medieval scholasticism’s own self-understanding—it’s views on the world, human beings, society etc.—are still largely unknown territory. However, late medieval scholasticism represents the high point of Franciscan thought.

Oberman goes on to say that he prefers the labels “nominalism” and “via moderna” for this period as they are more comprehensive categories and help us to see how far-ranging (both as to people groups and to its influence beyond the 14th and 15th centuries) these ideas were. The following constitute key elements of the nominalist movement as discussed in this context. First, there is the always-present connection between potentia ordinata (that which God has in fact decreed but which could have been otherwise) and potentia absoluta (the infinite possibilities available to the absolutely free God). With this dialectic we are reminded of the absolute contingency of our world based solely on God’s (free) decree (p. 27). Second, contingency must be properly understood. In other words, contingency should be understood both vertically (God-world-human beings) and horizontally (world-human being-future). Oberman adds that contingency here is not to be taken as that which is unstable and constantly threatened by potentia absoluta. Rather, “[t]he contingency of creation and salvation means simply that they are not ontologically necessary. The point is that in the vertical dimension our reality is not the lowest emanation and level in a hierarchy of being which ascends in ever more real steps to the highest reality, God” (p. 27). Third, nominalism insists that our world is not a shadowy reflection of higher levels of being, but instead has its own “full reality.” Fourth, nominalism issues a protest against “wild speculation” and “vain curiosity,” particularly against claims of reason that are not verified by tests of experience. Here you have nominalism providing the setting for modern science, “replacing the authority-based deductive method with the empirical method” (p. 28). One can also view the underlying intention of nominalism as a rejection of meta-categories that obfuscate reality. “Just as it rejected metaphysics to establish physics, so nominalism ventured to strip theology of her distorting meta-theological shackles, with the result that the Scriptures and the prior decrees of God were emphasized at the expense of natural theology” (p. 28). Fifth, we have an emerging new image of God as a result of the stress on God’s potentia ordinata. Here God is understood as the covenant God who has made a pactum with his creation (which includes salvation history and everything that entails) and human beings are seen as “contractual partners” with God in this covenant (p. 29). Here we should add that this emphasis on God as a “contractual partner in creation and salvation,” (p. 29) is intimately connected with the Pelagianist teaching facere quod in se est, a teaching which is here interpreted as God having determined in eternity “past” (in his decree) to accept and reward certain human moral efforts apart from a prior movement of grace. Thus, in the nominalist view, human beings are now seen as representatives or partners of God who are responsible for their own lives, society and the world – all of course based on and within the limits of God’s decree (p. 29).

Wrapping up the section, Oberman says that with all of the above points we can see nominalism’s “new vision of the relationship between the sacred and the secular by presenting coordination as an alternative to subordination and partnership of persons instead of a hierarchy of being.

Part IV and following covers chapter 2 (“The Shape of Late Medieval Thought: The Birthpangs of the Modern Era”) of Oberman’s book, The Dawn of the Reformation. Oberman opens by listing three assumptions involved in his project of investigating the shape of medieval thought: (1) it implies a quest for the beginning of the modern era and the need for a perspective in order to bring the past in conversation with the present; (2) it implies that “there is good reason to look at the later Middle Ages for the beginning of a new era” (p. 19); (3) it “assumes that it is possible to trace the shape of late medieval thought” (p. 20).

In section two, “The Many Faces of Crisis,” Oberman claims that the “phenomenon of crisis” is the most pervasive factor in this period. This aspect of the late medieval mindset provides us with a kind of “prototype of modernity” (by this he means a closing of the gap between the sacred and the profane) [p. 21]. For example, we have a health crisis with the Black Plague. Then there is the food or agrarian crisis which began on the continent prior to the Black Plague. The food crisis leads to an acceleration of urbanization, as we see a decline in agrarian self-sufficiency. The agrarian crisis impacted nearly all spheres and strata of society, low and high. In passing Oberman mentions the role of the Franciscan friars during these difficult times. That is, the Franciscan friars responded to the various needs by establishing themselves as pastors to the lower strata in society and consequently made a huge impact on those “outside the university halls.”

Oberman lists several other crises (e.g., the monetary and legal crises); however, it is ecclesiastical crisis that serves as the “context in which the unsettling effects of all these crisis factors could have their full impact” (p. 22). The Western Schism[1] that occurred not only divided loyalties between popes in Rome and in Avignon (as well as divided loyalties in the secular realm), but more importantly it called into question the “sacred basis of existence” (p. 22). For example, many question arise concerning papal infallibility. In conjunction with a thesis by Brian Tierney, Oberman claims that the formulation of the doctrine of infallibility was launched by extremists within the Franciscan order—particularly noting the influence of Petrus Olivi. According to Oberman, in Olivi’s commentary on the Apocalypse, he “identifies Rome [i.e., in the last stage of history] with Babylon.” Olivi believed that he was living in this last stage of history “when the succession of Christ will be transferred to the sons of St. Francis.” With this in mind, Olivi’s conclusions are to be understood as follows: “The pope is inerrant and his decrees are irreformable. […] Yet, when he is pope ‘secundum solam apparentiam,” [according to appearance only], when he is not verus papa, then he has no jurisdictional authority at all” (pp. 23-24). Oberman believes that Ockham’s view of infallibility is more or less the same as Olivi’s, minus Olivi’s eschatological emphasis. (E.g., “Ockham declares the heretical pope deposed ipso facto, just as Olivi). In place of eschatological hopes, Ockham looks to General Councils for solutions. In sum, with the ecclesiastical crisis, the dominant view of “eternal” institutions is being called into question.

Notes
[1] The Western Schism was a division within the Catholic church in 1378 when pope Gregory XI returns the papacy to Rome and ends the Avignon papacy. After Gregory VI dies, there is a move to ensure that an Italian pope is elected, viz., Ubran VI, 1378. Urban VI proved to be problematic and as a result another pope was elected, Clement VII, in September, 1378. This of course caused loyalties to be divided between a pope in Rome (Urban VI) and a pope in Avignon (Clement VII). After these popes died, two other popes replaced them—Boniface IX in Rome and Benedict XIII in Avignon. After Boniface’s death in 1404, the Roman side offered to refrain from electing a new pope if Benedict would agree to step down. However, the offer was rejected and the Roman cardinals then elected Innocent VII. In order to try and solve these issues a church council was held at Pisa in 1408. This unfortunately led to the election of a third pope, Alexander V. The schism was resolved at the Council of Constance in 1417 with the election of pope Martin V.

In section six, “High Mysticism and the Beginnings of the Devotio Moderna,” Oberman discusses additional characteristics of 14th century piety and thought. First we have a reaction in the form of Devotio moderna to the high mysticism of M. Eckhardt and company in the North. In addition to an anti-speculative attitude (not anti-intellectual), the Devotio moderna emphasized simplicity in thought and life. Toward the end of the 14th century we find opposition to speculation in three areas: (1) A reaction against Thomism in theology; (2) a reaction against the “calculatores” or “speculatores” and their predictions in history; (3) a reaction against speculative mysticism. During this time we also encounter an alternative ideal of Christian life and thought. Oberman again emphasizes that this anti-speculative attitude is not to be equated with skepticism, fideism, or intellectual laziness, but rather underlies “a new conception of Christian thought and an alternative ideal of the Christian life endowed with its own vigor and inventiveness in uncovering new dimensions in human experience, intuition, and affections” (p. 15). Lastly, there is a new view of death (and life). Youth and individuality are praised and emphasized, and there is a strong desire to prolong life and make a lasting name for oneself. “Just as the horror of death reflected a new amor vitae, so the ars bene moriendi became an inverted ars bene vivendi” (p. 16).

Closing the chapter, Oberman brings into focus his general approach to this period, viz., that the 14th century is diverse and one must avoid the temptation to present the “plurality of phenomena” as a unified, coherent whole. The anti-speculative attitude, as well as the warnings against vain curiosity allowed experience to be taken more seriously—that is, “the experience of man and nature, of history and society, of daily life” (p. 17). Lay people now take on new roles in society, in the world of thought, and a new significance is given to lay piety.

In section four, Oberman discusses what he calls an “Augustinian Renaissance” which occurs around 1330. The main characteristic of this renaissance is that Augustine is viewed as the authoritative and definitive interpreter of the gospel. Two major representatives of this “Augustinian Renaissance” were Thomas Bradwardine (archbishop of Canterbury) and Gregory of Rimini—both of whom were associated with the beginnings of Renaissance humanism. Both Bradwardine and Rimini authored works against Pelagianism and defended an Augustinian view of salvation sola gratia. Rimini’s impact, however, was more far-reaching than Bradwardine’s and extended into the 16th century, viz., being a major influence on Martin Luther. Oberman attributes the decisive factor of Rimini’s more extensive influence as due to Bradwardine’s arguing for “God’s primacy and the provenience of his grace on the basis of a causal metaphysics in keeping with the old way, the via antiqua” (p. 11). In contrast, Gregory, was able to harmonize Augustinian themes with the achievements of the via moderna (p. 11). As Oberman notes, the most recent scholarship affirms that Gregory was a nominalist in theology and philosophy and was at the same time in both an Augustinian.

In section five, “The Coming of the Third Age,” Oberman discusses how the “Franciscan alternative,” was operative in the realm of ecclesiology (and eschatology). The Franciscan, Peter John Olivi wrote a book, Commentary on the Apocalypse, in which he claimed that he was living on the “eve of the coming Third Age, of the final translation of the Church, “when the hierarchy of the Church will be replaced by the elect” (pp. 12-13). The work was condemned as heretical, but this only added to the belief that that Third Age was at hand. Likewise, we meet the “calculatores.” This designation referred not only to the “new mathematicians of the Merton School, but also for those who investigated the timetable of the Last Things, the eschata” (p. 13). So you have a number of people concerned with predicting the end of the world and the coming of the Antichrist. The calculatores were also called “speculatores” and heavily influenced the thought of (the radical) Thomas Münzter. Two additional characteristics of 14th century eschatology were (1) a pursuit of holiness, which was to “bring about reform, and, as the radical Franciscans felt, will soon bring to its close the era of the prelates” (p. 14); (2) a number of terminological similarities employed in late 15th and early 16th century to discuss the issue of assurance of salvation were also used in the 14th century to speak of the coming of the Antichrist (e.g., no such knowledge is possible, some conjectures are acceptable, absolute certitude is possible and is a sign of the “true Christian”). The point being that the same terminology that the Reformers used to formulate assurance of salvation issues was derived from this “earlier search for the supra-individual end not of life but of time, the time of the Antichrist and the coming of the Third Age” (p. 14).