Per Caritatem

Good point, Garrett. As you can tell from my quote, I’ve only read through the first 10 or so pages, so I’m not sure whether the authors add more context later or what. Have you read the book? Do you “know what’s coming next” so to speak? : )

Best,
Cynthia

One other thing… I was chatting with Stephen Dumont the other week about Scotus and Henry.. he mentioned that he’s been working on an article with the following claim.:Henry was the one to bring Anselm’s distinction between the 2 affections of the will back into discussion in the late 13th c., and Scotus picks this up when he talks about the native affections of the will.

Dear Iryna,

As you are probably aware, there were many and varied reactions to the teachings of Aristotle in the 13th century. First, you have the conservative reaction with its condemnations and prohibitions of Aristotle. Then you have individuals like Aquinas who were committed to the tradition and yet open to Aristotle. Then the radicals, e.g., Siger of Brabant, who, from a Christian perspective, embraced Aristotle too closely. As Ingham and Dreyer note, “By 1270, three positions attributed to Aristotle were understood to form a constellation that challenged traditional positions and pointed to a view of reality that was secular, rationalist, and naturalist. These positions involved the eternity of the world, monopsychism, and astral determinism” (p. 4). Bonaventure, of course, in his Collationes in Hexameron (1273) railed against Aristotelian philosophy (being heavily influenced by Augustine, he was also more Platonic in his leanings). As early as 1215, prohibitions were issued at the universities of Paris and Oxford; however, these boiled down to prohibiting reading and lecturing on Aristotle’s texts in a public forum—they could and were read privately. Then in 1255, the reading of Aristotle could be done publicly. The effect of this was a slowing down of the Aristotelian revolution, but it was lifted eventually. Then in the middle of the 13th century, the ultra-conservatists have lost (e.g., at the University of Paris, one was required to comment on Aristotle’s works). There is, however, an increasing feel among intellectuals that some have simply gone too far with Aristotle (Brabant comes to mind). Some even believe Aquinas goes too far, pointing to the fact that Thomas changes the structure of theology, as his Summa Theologia replaces the traditional commentary on Lombard’s Sentences. Thomas wrote his commentary on the Sentences, but became dissatisfied with the structure and created a structure of his own. E.g., in Lombard’s work one discusses ethics in the section on Christology. Thomas takes ethics out of Christology and puts it in anthropology—he does this because he has read Aristotle and thinks that there is some natural way that a person can be virtuous—even slightly. In short, as Ingham and Dreyer put it, “by the final quarter of the century, the Aristotelian-inspired philosophical position framed an intellectual portrait of human excellence…According to this approach, Aristotle had correctly outlined the journey toward human fulfillment: it was intellectual transcendence, whether or not this involved any survival after death” (p. 5; cf. Alain de Libera, Penser au Moyen Age [Paris: Seuil, 1991]).
This atmosphere creates alarm among the more conservative faction, and as a result Bishop Tempier forms a committee (led by Henry of Ghent). The committee compiles a list of 219 propositions that are now condemned in 1277—propositions they claimed were being taught (or believed) by the Masters teaching in Paris. “The propositions were taken from all domains of philosophical inquiry, including such positions as: (1) some maintaining that this world is the only possible world; (2) some describing the necessity of divine action and creation; (3) those affirming the dependence of the will on the intellect and denying it any freedom to choose counter to the dictates of right reasoning; (4) those upholding the influence of the movement of the heavens upon human behavior (astral determinism); (5) those defending the superiority of the life of philosophy and the study of philosophy to the study of scripture; (6) those affirming the possibility of true happiness in this life” (p. 6). In light of these propositions (1)-(6), the claim that Scotus was constructing his position in view of a number of the condemned propositions of 1277 is (in my opinion) substantiated. “By the close of the century, for reasons not completely reducible to the fact of the condemnation, the scholarly community was not as willing to accept the Arab-Aristotelian model of a single, necessary universe whose creator act necessarily. The importance of the contingency of the created order became the starting point for reflection upon divine action in history, the nature and scope of scientific knowledge, possibilities beyond what is actual, and the nature of freedom” (p. 7; cf. also M.B. Ingham, “The Condemnation of 1277: Another Light on Scotist Ethics,” Freiburger Zeitschrift fur Philosophie und Theologie 37 (1990): 91-103).

As I stated in my email to you, given my current need to devote the remainder of the summer to prepare for my Fall lectures, I will not be able to interact (at this time) beyond what I’ve said above.

Best wishes,
Cynthia