Notes on the Super-Analogy of Faith in Garrigou-Lagrange, Hugon, Journet, and Maritain
In an upcoming issue of Nova et Vetera, I have an essay to be published concerning the notion of the “super-analogy of faith.” A draft can be found here. In the background of this essay, I am primarily concerned with the insensitivity to the nature-grace concerns that should animate Thomist accounts of analogy. (There are several mansions within my concerns, actually, given also that ultimately many—thankfully not all—presentations of analogy also seem insensitive to the absolute centrality of the analogy of proper proportionality. On this point, I believe that Yves Simon’s brief “On Order in Analogical Sets” is definitive as a piece of philosophical analysis grounded not merely in collections of texts but in a rigorous thinking through of the problem. Though there are other lengthier works of erudition (e.g., Ramirez), Simon presents principles with utter lucidity in this essay. Also, I would be remiss if I did not recognize Dr. Steven A. Long’s important rehabilitations of properly proportional analogy. However, more specifically in the aforementioned article, I am concerned that Thomist accounts of analogy do not carefully enough distinguish between the use of terms by way of merely-rational analogy and by way of application of knowledge to supernatural realities.) Moreover, although it is not directed against classical accounts of Scotism (recognizing, of course, the recent work of someone like Garret Smith, who does rightly nuance how we should understand the Subtle Doctor), the article also stands as a kind of implicit counterpoint (and critique) of an objective univocism that would not hold that the notional content of supernatural truths is itself supernaturalized in an analogical fashion.
Prior to working on the aforementioned article, I put together a series of notes from the main authors in the background of my more-synthetic account. Here, I will present in detail the various authors consulted. At the time of the writing of the official article, I included more details from several others not included in what follows. Nonetheless, this detailed source-account can hopefully ensure that other Thomists might take up this topic at greater length and fullness, though in continuity with great thinkers from the past.
Notes on “The Superanalogy of Faith” (Introduction and selections from Maritain)
Sometimes, while reading Maritain, I would run across expressions that seemed to be neologisms of his. Thus, for a time, I took his language of the “speculatively practical” and the “practically practical” (cf. Appendix VII of Degrees of Knowledge) to be an invention of his, useful but new among Thomists. Eventually, I discovered that he was developing an earlier tradition which used this classification of knowledge. (I have made some notes on this in my translation of Garrigou-Lagrange’s “Remarks Concerning the Metaphysical Character of St. Thomas’s Moral Theology, in Particular as It Is Related to Prudence and Conscience” [published in Nova et Vetera]). Admittedly, the older tradition is right there in front of one if one looks at his notes…
Another such expression that I bumbled into was, “The superanalogy of faith.” In short, the expression is concerned with the particular kind of notional and judgment formation that is involved in the supernatural assent of faith: how does this assent elevate certain natural ideas and judgments, supernaturalizing them without, however, losing continuity with the initial meaning of the ratio analogata that served as the basis for such an affirmation?
In contrast to the case of the “speculatively practical,” however, I have not managed to find a robust previous discussion of this expression. Nonetheless, over the course of the years, I found it taken up by Charles Journet, Jean-Hervé Nicolas, and in passing by Fr. Emmanuel Durand. Also, through my translating work, I discovered certain adumbrations of this issue in Frs. Garrigou-Lagrange and Édouard Hugon.
Heretofore in my professional writing, I have solely gestured in the direction of these sources. I believe, in the end, that they are completely correct, at least, in their broad and essential outlines. It is far too tempting for many scholastics to limit what they say concerning analogy solely to the level of natural reason. So much of the literature tempts scholars to take a position concerning the various options offered concerning analogical predication (logical analogy) and its ultimate causal basis upon reality (metaphysical analogy). At best, it feels like a kind of rearguard action, protecting one position against those who would deny it. But it often feels as though the discussion stops there.
Such essays are a necessary labor, but it is not the only one that is possible. In the article which is a fruit of this labor, I intend to think “within” the particular space of the Thomist school that has influenced me: Cajetan, John of St. Thomas, Hugon, Garrigou, Maritain, Journet, Nicolas, and Yves Simon (who, on the question of analogy, bears particular witness to the continued fecundity of the Thomist school as a philosophical enterprise, not merely a source of historically-grounded assertions). But, in order to think through all of the aspects of this problem of “superanalogy,” and then craft a sufficiently brief paper, I feel the need to work through the texts that do exist in this tradition relative to this problem.
In most of these notes, I will not be fully developing any particular theme. Rather, this is a kind of note-taking exercise..
The Degrees of Knowledge (trans. Phelan et al.; UND 2002 pagination)
In the final subsection of the fifth chapter of Degrees (dedicated to metaphysical knowledge), Maritain registers observations regarding the superanalogy of faith, with a particular eye to ensuring that he sufficiently articulates the basis for supernatural mystical experience (truly apophatic theology). This already comes after what he has discussed concerning apophatic knowledge and the divine names. Note that what he is doing here is especially laying out the noetic character of such supernatural knowledge, which in mystical experience will make use of charity as the means for perfecting what is known through faith.
Beyond the analogy that grasps even being as being (a portion of “trans-objective intellection”) and that which, by its mode of signifying, enables us to grasp pure spirit (“ananoetic intellection,” the signal case of which is our knowledge of God and the divine names) [cf. p.221ff], there is a third degree of analogy, namely the superanalogy of faith. This analogy is, in a sense, ananoetic, but it is marked by a significant and important difference: metaphysical ananoetic knowledge rises upward, whereas in the superanalogy of faith “it is from the very heart of the divine transintelligible, from the very heart of the deity, that the whole process of knowledge starts out, in order to return thither. That is to say, from this source, through the free generosity of God, derives the choice of objects, and of concepts in the intelligible universe that falls under our senses, which God alone knows to be analogical signs of what is hidden in Him, and of which He makes use in order to speak of Himself to us in our own language” (p. 256). Thus, without revelation, we could never apply the following (and many other things) to the deity or to the order of providence: generation, filiation, three having one nature, incarnation (of a divine hypostasis), union in Person (in a divine Hypostasis), creaturely participation in divine being (through grace), friendship-love with God (through charity).
Such analogy is not only, like our natural knowledge of the divine names, “uncircumscriptive” (cf. p. 240); “it is a revealed analogy, a proxy or substitute for vision” (p. 257). It is presented “under other veils” than those proper to nature (understanding “veils” appropriately, for they are veils that reveal). The objects known through the judgment of faith are uncreated, though they are not known, in via, quidditatively (cf. In Boet. de Trinitate, q. 6, a. 3: “Quamvis enim per revelationem elevemur…”). It is marked by the conceptual means that faith does not leave behind here-below, even when it is purified through the gifts of the Holy Spirit (cf. Garrigou-Lagrange’s, “La foi, éclairée par les dons”). “Thus, the superanalogy of faith is more humble than metaphysical analogy; it wears the livery of poverty. But we know from God that it attains divine secrets which metaphysics knows not” (p. 257).
Consider human notions like: father, son, and redemption. By the natural light of reason, they could only be used in a metaphorical manner to designate something about God, if anything at all. But something takes place in the assent of faith which elevates them and actualizes something that functions in a (always properly?) proportional manner to designate the revealed truth. Note that there are two sorts of superanalogy here: cases where supernatural analogy is properly proportional in the fullest sense, such that natural ananoetic knowledge (e.g., pure perfections) would be used for supernatural ananoetic knowledge. But, there also “notions that which as such cannot be transcendentalized, and whose ananoetic value, assured by revelation, remains as a result wrapped up in a metaphorical analogy” (p. 258). He then connects this to ST I, q. 1, a. 10.
Pointing to the case of parables, he makes a further an important remark: “The parable, in fact, is a metaphorical analogy which contains, and this is its proper mystery, an analogy of proper proportionality assignable and expressible for itself, but so inexhaustible and so overflowing with meaning that it always means more than its expression conveys” (p. 258). In a footnote to this comment, he remarks that this properly proportional character is what makes a parable differ from a myth. The latter also fictionally uses created traits, but it has “of itself, an entirely undetermined metaphorical value and does not of itself contain an assignable analogy of proper proportionality” (p. 258).
In no. 27, he finishes with a passage that I merely wish to reproduce here:
It is written that God made garments of skin for Adam and Eve in their exile. In like manner, through His prophets, then His Incarnate Son, and His Church, he has made for us, garments woven of words and notions to close the nakedness of our minds till the day it sees Him. Thus, faith must necessarily proceed, cataphatically, since it communicates to us, and virtue of the testimony of the First Truth, or, in other words, in virtue of the infallible veracity of God revealing, and thanks to its being proposed by the Church, the knowledge of what is hidden in the depths of the deity. How shall they understand if they are not taught? And how will they be taught if not by means of enunciations and notions? And how will they be taught infallibly, if these enunciations and notions do not signify in an analogical (superanalogical) mode those very things which are in God? In this way, it is understandable that faith attains to the Deity itself, and in propositions that are rigorously, true, but from a far, at a distance, i.e., thanks to the analogical process involved in the very use of notions and enunciations. To become wisdom and contemplation, knowledge by faith must, under a divine grace of inspiration and illumination—and yet always, in a trans-luminous obscurity, which will remain as long as God is not seen in Himself [cf. Garrigou on the quasi in “quasi-experiential knowledge of God”; also the study cited above]—progressively leave behind this from afar and at a distance. That is to say, it must become [experiential] and proceed apophatically, by freeing itself from the limited mode of its concepts, not by an intellectual knowledge that transcends yes and no, but by a passion of divine things that tastes and touches, by way of the no, the infinite depths of the yes (p. 258–9).
This last citation has a number of important things to be unpacked in the paper (but these will have to wait).
Brief comments in “Reflections on Theological Knowledge” in Untrammeled Approaches
On p. 250 of Maritain’s essay “Reflections on Theological Knowledge,” he distinguishes analogical and superanalogical terms—like being, goodness, intelligence, will, knowledge, love, which embrace and circumscribe created realities but which, when applied to God, leave this signified reality un-embraced, going beyond the signification of the name (cf. ST I, q. 13, a. 5). But, beyond this, makes an observation about concepts that are univocal in current usage but which, under the light of faith, are raised by the theologian (note the perspective here, not the assent of faith but, rather, that of theological science) to an analogical level. This represents a kind of new degree of super-analogy, and I have thought of it at times when thinking about the way that theological science super-elevates its concepts, precisely so that it can form scientific demonstrations. Too frequently, one speaks as though a “premise of reason” would just be laminated on to the supernatural “premise of faith.” However, if the reasoning is to be truly conclusive and to express objectively supernatural knowledge, it must instrumentally elevate the “natural middle term” so that it can function in a formally supernatural inference. On this, Nicolas will cite some important points from the Thomist tradition (cf. my future article in Nova et Vetera). Elsewhere, Maritain also insists on this point–quite forcefully, from what I recall, in Dream of Descartes.
I will cite his words on page 250:
Theological knowledge must also use concepts who’s original meaning is univocal in current usage but which can be, and are, raised by the theologian to an analogical level. Some examples: “knowledge of simple intelligence” and “knowledge of vision”; “antecedent will” and “consequent will”; “absolute power” and “ordained power”; “vindicative justice”; etc. With such concepts, we run the risk of falling unawares, and by simple lack of attention into unavowable univocity, and so having thoughts about God that are unworthy of Him. This particular weakness, or inconvenience than is more serious than the first [concerning distinctiones rationis, which one risks using as though they were real]—but, not too serious, for if the theologian’s manner of expressing himself irritates our ears, he himself (if not someone who is listening to him) is always ready to gain control of the situation, and escape from the trap of univocity, even when he is speaking of the vindicative justice of Him Who is Love, and Who has no desire or need to avenge Himself. In truth, I have nothing against the concepts themselves (we cannot get by without them); I dislike the words used to designate them.
Above, he notes in a footnote (note 8):
Because the concept in question, implying, necessarily in reality, neither limitation, nor imperfection, was already in itself an analogical concept according to the analogy of proper proportionality. Each time we are tribute to the uncreated Being one of our human concepts, drawn from creatures, it is this analogy of proper proportionality that we bring into play. And it is God who is then the princeps analogatorum, the sovereign analogate.
This comes down to the question of theological-scientific vocabulary and the dangers that it involves. On page 251, he goes on to defend technical vocabulary (something he had been doing from the time he wrote Réflexions sur l’intelligence), though also noting how it is always tempting (for understandable reasons) for language to “end up enclosed within a set of ramparts reserved for soothsayers who experience (this was certainly not the case for St. Thomas himself) a special kind of haughty delectation, typical of ‘people in the know’ because they can be understood only among themselves” (p. 251). Many are guilty of this, and we Thomists are too.
This article contains some beautiful further remarks concerning the divine names and perfections (even if one chooses not to agree with everything he says), but I want to prevent these notes from becoming too long. There is an interesting theme implied where he speaks of how “in the teaching of theology, the study of each divine perfection [must] be completed by the consideration of its relation to some other perfection, as by ‘elevations’ [cf. Bossuet] in which the mind would be made aware again and again of the infinite transcendence of the Uncreated” (p. 250). Here, too, I cannot help but think of the great and prayerful syntheses of Garrigou-Lagrange and Gardeil, by which one passes back upwards toward the unity of faith, as though theological reflection itself bows its knee before the light which is its ultimate source: the light of faith, which has been served throughout all of its discursive twists and turns.
On page 248–9, he also notes that superanalogical metaphor is out of place in theology, because the Gospels proceed by direct revelation, not theologically. (I would be slightly clearer: the Gospels are to be understood by formal revelation, theology by “virtual revelation,” or whatever term one wishes to use, in light of the arguments that I show elsewhere from Muñiz. Maritain would agree with this slight clarification.) But, in any case, in theological reasoning, attribution of something properly to God will ultimately rest upon one’s theological reasoning, not the divine attestation of the First Truth Revealing. (And yet, one must also think of the way that metaphors have played a role at the start of this process. Arguments from fittingness might be one way in this direction—cf. Doronzo, Journet, and Garrigou, all of whom argue that such arguments are actually the highest of all theological arguments. However, this parenthesis is merely my aside, trying to sound this out for later reflection.)
Thus, Themes to Recall / Develop (Maritain)
· There is no question that proper proportionality is presupposed for Maritain. He holds this position to the end of his life. Nothing he says is essentially opposed to the later developments by Simon.
· It is important to distinguish transobjective Intelligibles from that which is Transintelligible (known ananoetically). For this end, not only are his words in this section of use, but one should also consult what Austin Woodbury says in his discussion of 1˚ the object of our intellect and 2˚ the subject of metaphysics.
· An open question. How are the following super analogies to be articulated in relation to each other: 1˚ properly proportional supernatural analogies; 2˚ supernatural metaphors; 3˚ parabolic supernatural metaphors; 4˚ theological-scientific super-analogies? Are supernatural metaphors properly proportional, though solely because of the assent of faith? (See article by Timothée Richard in Revue Thomiste on the distinction between opinion and faith. It may or may not lead down an interesting path.)
· Explain the connection to mystical experience, which alone can allow for fully positive (though still-obscure) knowledge of the divine realities that are expressed through faith.
· Recall what Journet says elsewhere about divine / supernatural rhetoric. Does it apply to the “elevations” mentioned above?
Notes on “The Superanalogy of Faith” (Selections from Journet)
Here, I am taking up a second “source study” concerning the theme of the superanalogy of faith. I want to consider some texts drawn from Charles Journet, who clearly is thinking through this topic in the wake of Maritain. The two primary texts that serve as sources here are his The Dark Knowledge of God (pages below taken from the Cluny edition) and The Wisdom of Faith (pages below taken from the Newman Press edition, though the volume was recently published by Cluny as well).
Quite interestingly, in both works, Journet uses the example of the divine names in a way that is interesting for the Catholic philosopher and theologian to consider. I suspect that there is a great risk, whether one is reading Saint Thomas or later, the Thomists, or even someone like Ps.-Dionysius, to treat the analogical names that we use for God, as if these names were so to speak on the same natural metaphysical level. Thus, even with On the Divine Names in hand, with all of its apophatic flair, it is quite rhetorically and conceptually tempting to think in a Proclean vein when reading of the Oneness, Beauty, Goodness, etc., of God. Obviously, Pseudo-Dionysius wishes to open his work with a biblical context. It is even quite arguable, at least in broad but essential strokes (as does someone like Archbishop Galitizin), that the Syriac monastic context of the Areopagite is more essential than his neo-Platonism, even in On the Divine Names. However, because of the significant Neoplatonic apparatus in years, it is very easy to read the text in such a way that one treats the various names of God as kinds of “most-sublime, though naturally-metaphysically graspable apophatic terms” used by Scripture.
But, as Journet observes: “in the magic of faith’s light, the same divine names which the philosopher comes to employ assume unsuspected dimensions; their content is deepened; their meaning becomes analogous to a new power” (The Dark Knowledge of God, p. 62). It is one thing to know of the goodness of the First Cause, who is pure act. It is another thing—not wholly unrelated, but still other—to know the revealed uncreated love that redeems and divinizes. It is one thing to know the bounty of creation (something quite difficult to know by reason alone, but still de iure possible). It is quite another to know the merciful love that not only calls beings into to existence but draws beings from the regio dissimilitudinis of sin back to the state of truly being fashioned in filial likeness to the Father through participative incorporation into the Uncreated Filiation of the Word of God. It is one thing to know that God is One, the unified source of all that is. It is quite another to know the Triune God—a unity that is most spectacular, the three-in-one keystone of the whole order of the supernatural mysteries.
The same could be said of all the names of God which can be reached by metaphysical wisdom: Subsistent Beauty, Subsistent Truth, Subsistent Intellection, Subsistent Love, Subsistent Existence, indeed even the Supernatural Deity. By reason alone, we can know that an order of supernatural truths exists. But by reason alone, our knowledge of the “supernatural” is at the end of a chain of reasoning that reaches upward, a chain of reasoning in which negation and eminence play an immense role. This “supernatural” is only grasped negatively-eminently and, hence, relatively—always on the basis of the created “upward-rising” scaffolding of our cognition. Quite different indeed will be the knowledge we can have of the supernatural order of truths manifested in the light of the Deity itself. Our faith already is, in essence though not in state, a first fruits of the participated eternity that is the duration measuring the knowledge had by the blessed. The name “Supernatural Uncreated One” has two very different valances depending upon whether it is known by metaphysical reasoning or by revelation.
(A side remark: how many confusions regarding our desire for the supernatural are resolved by taking care to note whether such a desire is elicited by way of natural analogy or supernatural revelation, thereby involving two infinitely different formal objects. In far too many of the debates over the “desire to see God face-to-face” authors forget the capital distinction between considering Deus ut res est and Deus ut obiectum est….)
One could readily draw up a list of examples from Scripture (or, for that matter, from any of the supernatural theological loci) that would bear witness to the fact that terms attributed to God in His deity are completely supernaturalized. The descriptions of God’s transcendent unity, of His providence, and His goodness, love, His merciful fidelity… all of these and more are marked by the supernaturality of the revealed message:
So it is when divine faith is born in a heart, when the Light which enlightens every man (John 1:9) penetrates to the innermost being of a person: the man is changed. He may be unconscious of the transformation, like some pauper who has become wealthy but is not yet aware of it, or like a sick person who does not yet know that he has already been cured; but for all that he is no longer what he once was. If now he says, “God is,” [or] “God is good” he does not make such assertions on natural grounds, as a philosopher might if left to the unaided resources of his reason; but—presupposing that he speaks from the depths of his heart and not with his lips only—he makes such assertions in a supernatural way, urged on as it were by the power of affirmation of the Spirit. Such an affirmation, such an activity of the soul does not pertain to the sphere of purely human achievement, but is concerned with the kingdom of God…
It is altogether necessary to insist on the mystery of the double use of the same concepts by reason, and by faith. When we say that God is one, that he is good, that he is wise, as well as when we say that God exists, and rewards those who seek him, the propositions, we are firm can veil, two different profundities. They can signify philosophical mystery, the mystery of perfect unity, of absolute goodness, of the fullness of being, and its providence, as these can be glimpsed by the human reason through the mirror of creatures. In this case, God is known only by the fringe of his garments.
But, they can also signify a revealed mystery, a mystery of faith, incomparably more profound: the mystery of the unity, goodness, being, and the providence of the God, who is a Trinity, and of him who became flesh for the salvation of the world. And in this case, God is known as he is in himself, in his personal life, but in the darkness of faith. [Then, he draws examples of Goodness, spirit, light, love, being, and providence. Moreover, later on p. 18–19, he will also discuss the ambivalence of the proposition “God is Pure Act,” understood either naturally or supernaturally.] These truths show us the uttermost profundities of God. They reveal to us God as He is in Himself, the God that is inaccessible to reason and whom we shall see in heaven, the God, however, who is attain here below, only in the darkness of faith (Journet, The Wisdom of Faith, 16–18).
None of this, of course, is surprising. In a sense, it is merely a simple statement of the supernaturality of faith. But what is important, nonetheless, is the fact that our account of analogy must ultimately be equal to the task of explaining the mysterious fact of this transition from the natural to the supernatural acceptation of one’s terms. I will admit that I have felt no small frustrations, sometimes when Thomists have spoken of “Self-Subsistent Existence” in a metaphysical register without sufficiently articulating the fact that the most profound understanding of Subsistent Existence is Deitas ut sic, the Triune Deity, Subsistent Existence that is one in three divine hypostases-persons. (As we will see in Fr. Garrigou-Lagrange, the formal perspective of Self-Subsistent Existence is that of metaphysics. It contains, actu implicite, the other divine names, which are drawn therefrom illatively. By contrast, the Deity contains them all actu explicite, formally and eminently. See Garrigou’s essay on this in Philosophizing in Faith, partly cited below.)
The need for a kind of dual-register of articulation in our knowledge, requires us, therefore, to articulate a kind of supernatural analogy. Journet (at least here) takes for granted proper proportionality as a legitimate (and arguably ultimate) kind of analogy that our mind can articulate among analogates. There can be a kind of proportionality arrived at through metaphysical cognition; and there also can be a kind of proportionality established in light of revealed truth:
We are forced, then, to admit, even in the case of the same words, and the same concepts, a double transposition, and a double analogy. One of these analogies is the means, by which human reason, having seen certain perfections existing in creatures, transfers them to God, where they exist as in their source. An example of this can be found in the assertion: “God exists and is the Remunerator.” Here, then, we have what is known as metaphysical analogy. The second of the two analogies we have mentioned, is that by which faith uses certain perfections, which are mentioned in scripture, and which at times may be the same as those used by metaphysics. By scrutinizing these perfections, to their uttermost extent, Faith elevates itself to approach, and give full and complete consent to the mystery of the divine being in so far as it contains, formally but implicitly, the revelation of the Trinity. In a similar manner it assents to the mystery of divine providence in so far is it too contains formally, but implicitly the redemptive incarnation. [He does not here cite Garrigou-Lagrange, but this point is found in On Divine Revelation.] The second kind of analogy we can call the superanalogy or transanalogy of faith. These two analogies—that of metaphysics and that of faith—do not belong to the same order. As the theologians say [cf. also Anderson, Penido], the notion of analogy is itself analogous and proportional (Journet, The Wisdom of Faith, 19–20).
(Although he does not directly say it here, presumably, this would mean that the naturally articulable analogue would at least need to be not opposed to such elevation. One senses, therefore, a kind of relation of “objective obediential potency” from the natural to the supernatural here. I am gesturing toward further investigations, however…)
Journet eluicidates this in The Dark Knowledge of God as follows:
Thus, there are two levels of meaning, two strata of analogy, respecting which the divine names can designate the one divine mystery. The first stratum is reached by the divine names which natural intelligence, whether spontaneous or philosophic, employs when it says for example that God exists, that He is thought, or love. Here we are on the level of metaphysical analogy. The second stratum is reached by the divine names which the humility of faith exalts even to the level of trinitarian life. Here we are confronted with revealed analogy, the superanalogy of faith.
And in an accompanying footnote:
In metaphysical analogy, our intellect ascends from con- tingent being to its divine Analogue. In the superanalogy of revelation, it is God Who comes down to us, making us under- stand that such concepts, proposed for our acceptance by faith, “are analogical signs of what is hidden in Him, and of which He makes use to speak of Himself to us in our language” (Maritain, Degrees, 298.). In the first case, God is known materially, being concealed in the radiations, as it were, of His creative activity; in the second case, He is formally, for it is God Himself Who then tells us the secret of His own trinitarian life. But analogy obtains in both cases, because the knowledge we have of God must be mediated to us through concepts, which are patterned after created things. In the act of vision whereby God will be apprehended without the mediation of any concept, there will be no room for analogy (The Dark Knowledge of God,70n20)
Journet also goes on to discuss the role of metaphorical analogy, limiting it not merely to revelation itself but also to the spiritual writings of saints such as Augustine, Bernard, Francis of Assisi, and John of the Cross (ibid., 65).
One important addendum is also the fact that Journet directly takes up a topic of mystical experience throughout this volume. He emphasizes that all mystical experience through the connaturality of love presupposes, essentially and necessarily, conceptual faith. As he says:
The revealed statements of Scripture, the Symbol of the Apostles, of infallible teaching—wherein are expressed the double original revealed Fact, necessary for all times that men may draw near to God, namely the fact “that He exists and is a rewarder of those who seek Him” [a point in St. Thomas emphasized over and over again by Garrigou-Lagrange—these are the foundation upon which all the interior certitude of the mystics rests, and without which they know their whole spiritual adventure would founder in illusion. They cling to the teachings of face with a fiery tenacity, like that of the apostle Paul, who, though he was able to disclose to the perfect a mysterious wisdom taught by the Holy Spirit alone (1 Cor. 2:13), trembled at the thought that the Corinthians might forget the dogmas of the only gospel capable of saving them, provided they held fast to its meaning… in other words, without an unshakable affirmative and cataphatic theology, there is no negative and apophatic theology… [Citing the words of Ruysbroeck:] “The ant does not make strange paths, but all follow the same path, and, awaiting the proper time, they become able to fly.” (Journet, The Dark Knowledge of God, 78)
Our charity is always dependent upon faith. The former, above all through the gift of wisdom, presses on into the mystery of God loved in Himself, thus uniting us more profoundly to Him than does our faith, which is marked by the creaturely condition, which always will mark the manifestation of God with the conditions of our own mode of knowing. But, from now until the end of our wayfaring days, we must say, with Fr. Ambroise Gardeil: “Faith is, as it were, an intellectual mouth which nourishes charity upon the divine good, its own proper object” (Gardeil, The True Christian Life, 207).
(There are interesting discussions in the book reflecting on the kind of faith-knowledge and mysticism possible for the “righteous on the outside,” a topic he takes up in his ecclesiological works elsewhere. For the purposes of what I’m working on now, however, that is beyond my appropriate scope of concern.)
Finally, as well, I just want to note what Journet says, relatively quickly in the third chapter concerning the role of rhetoric in the communication of truths of faith. Above all, such rhetoric is divine, through the act of revelation, and also through the continued action of the Holy Spirit in the Church’s teaching authority. But, this is technically true of all communication of the truths of faith, precisely as assented to by way of faith. Given the role of super naturalized volitional assent in the act of faith, the hearer of the divine message (or its continued, proposal, noviter, sed non nova) is appropriately preached to in the mode of a kind of rhetorical “elevation.” One rightly thinks of the methods of the Fathers, though the poetry of the mystics also comes to mind as well. This is not at all to denigrate the necessary discursive labor of “scientific” theology. But, it reminds us that the assent of faith requires a kind of “elevation” of mind that is so great that this assent can (and de iure must) be purified by the gifts of the Holy Spirit all the days of our life. The discourse aimed at faith, therefore, must employ rhetoric (modeled above all upon the Sacred deposit of revelation, but also upon that of the great saints) in order to prepare and stir the will to supernatural assent (cf. Journet, The Wisdom of Faith, 33–37).
Thus, Themes to Recall / Develop (Journet)
· Journet’s own development here is dependent upon Maritain. He also evidences likely dependence upon Garrigou-Lagrange (whom he does cite elsewhere, especially on such matters of faith and reason).
· Terminologically, Journet speaks of superanalogy / transanalogy / revealed analogy
· He more explicitly develops the theme of the twofold analogy, contrasting various divine names which are known metaphysically vs. in a formally supernatural manner.
· This process could be considered a kind of transfiguration (something that only comes up in passing, admittedly).
· He makes explicit connections to mysticism and the latter’s continual dependence upon such superanalogous faith.
· There is an important role to be played by rhetoric in our assent to De fide truths. (This calls to my mind what Garrigou once upon a time said about the importance of “elevations”.)
· Also, because of my reading of an exchange from Labourdette to Maritain, I should add that I do not believe that I 100% agree with certain points about theological science in The Wisdom of Faith, which is possibly too “essentialist” or “metaphysical” in character. (This is an interesting critique, given that it is actually registered by Labourdette, whom I’m sure some would accuse of being a rationalist, given his very traditional position on theological science, in line with Gagnebet. On this, see the appendix to the letters between Maritain and Journet in the volume for the 1940s.)
Notes on “The Superanalogy of Faith” (Selections from Garrigou-Lagrange)
Although he does not take up the topic of “super-analogy” directly, Fr. Garrigou-Lagrange offers some precious resources for connecting what we can find in Hugon to the later Thomists who more explicitly use this terminology. I don’t intend here to gather everything he says about faith. Rather, I plan merely to glean a couple of things from On Divine Revelation and Thomistic Common Sense. (On a quick review, it doesn’t seem that there is much added in his commentary on the treatise on faith. However, the index is not the greatest, so perhaps there is something I’m overlooking… Still, what is there in his remarks on ST II-II, q. 1, a. 2 does not indicate any change of position. See p. 84–90 of the English translation.)
There are several texts of particular interest in On Divine Revelation, basically echoing each other. (Aside: It is nearly certain that where Fr. Garrigou-Lagrange speaks of “notions” in these texts and others, he means “objective concept.” I say this based on something in Reginald Schultes, who, himself, interestingly but obscurely speaks of a change in subjective / formal concept amid the unity of objective concept when dogma develops.)
The first comes in the midst of his discussion of what is necessary for the supernatural proposing and acceptance of a revealed truth. In the midst of showing why there is an essential need for a subjective capacitation on the part of the knower, he draws a parallel with the case of prophecy. I believe that the argument would run something like an a fortiori argument: in prophecy, even a light is needed in cases of merely modally supernatural truths; a fortiori is such a light needed for substantially supernatural truths, like those that are revealed. (At this point of the discussion, the enduring character of such a light—faith—is not the central concern.).
Thus, he states, on page. 289:
Thus, Joseph, illuminated in order to interpret the dreams of Pharaoh, is to be reckoned to be a prophet from this very fact. This infused light illuminates and elevates the notions and verb [verbum] by which objective proposition is accomplished. Such notions can be naturally acquired ones, like the notions of person and nature. Nonetheless, such notions are supernaturally illuminated in such knowledge. Likewise, in judgment, the verb “is” is affirmed not only naturally under the light of reason but also supernaturally under the divine light. Thus, the affirmation is infallible and proportioned to the supernatural object [in question].
He cites Hugon’s related discussion here. Also, he cites John of St. Thomas, Cursus theologicus, De gratia, disp. 20, a. 1, no. 9 and Salmanticenses, Cursus theologicus, De gratia, disp. 3, dub. 3, no. 53.
Here, I think an aside is necessary from Thomistic Common Sense. The notions of nature and person which he cites as examples have a long history in philosophical and theological disputation. Must we say that these notions are understood in their fully philosophical sense prior to their use in faith? The basic rule of thumb is well summarized in the title of pt. 3, ch. 3 in the later editions of Thomistic Common Sense: “Dogmatic Formulas Expressed in Philosophical Language Exceed Common Sense by Their Precision, but They Do Not Render Dogma Subservient to Any System.” In a somewhat cursory way, but indicating important broad and essential lines in this issue, Garrigou states that such notions are used in actu exercito by all at the level of common sense, though a full explication of them in actu signato only took place through the labors of later Fathers, theologians, and Councils. Something similar could be said, I believe, for the way that such notions are understood at different levels of articulation by those who have more of an implicit faith in the mysteries and those who have a greater knowledge thereof. (See §5 in the same chapter and the relevant discussions connected to ST II-II and the general question of implicit faith in “minores in ecclesia”. One should note, as well, that such minores can have a much stronger and penetrating faith than many “maiores,” even though such minores are less articulate concerning what they grasp.)
There are many connected issues here, some of which I have discussed in the pages of Nova et Vetera (“Wisdom be Attentive” ) and also in a plenary address given to the ACPA, to be published later in 2024. Setting aside the case of theological conclusions quoad se, in the case of technically elaborated truths of faith, discursive, theology finds itself completely subservient to these first principles that it receives from on high. One of its offices, precisely as a form of wisdom, is to set forth and to defend the meaning of such De fide truths. Although such a defense takes place within theology’s discursive labors, its ultimate aim points toward the supernatural certitude that comes from the very vision of God, now obscurely participated in through faith. So, one of the tasks of the theologian, arguably his or her most important task, is to set forth the radiance of the truths of faith. And such radiance is at the level of formal revelation, which is grasped immediately, through the working of God in the depths of the soul. Arguments from fittingness aim toward the fontal certitude from which “virtual revelation” flows:
Thus, the arguments of fittingness relative to the existence (and even to the possibility) of supernatural mysteries such as the Holy Trinity, the Redemptive Incarnation, and eternal life are not demonstrative—in spite of the light (often quite great) that they contain. It is not that they are of an order inferior to demonstration. On the contrary, they pertain to a sphere that is superior to what is demonstrable. In these arguments, there remains an element of obscurity. One can always deepen them without touching the depth (nay, rather, the summit) at which they aim, and we thus tend toward a superior clarity that we often take to be that of a demonstration. It is an order of clarity that is far more elevated—it is the essentially supernatural clarity of the Beatific Vision (Garrigou-Lagrange, The Sense of Mystery, xlvi, cf. 168, 170, and 287).
(Doronzo notes the very important place that such arguments play for Garrigou-Lagrange, Journet, and Xiberta.)
(Aside: Sometimes, scholastic theology is critiqued for being a kind of “conclusion theology,” merely pressing onward, outside of the deposit of faith, ever armed with one premise from faith and another premise from reason. However, I can find content, not only in Garrigou, but in Schultes, Labourdette, Maritain, and Nicolas—and I suspect others like Gagnebet—that very clearly show the lie of this. One need not go down the path of Chenu or others like him to correct this supposed issue with Thomism. Note, also, that the case of Gardeil is somewhat ambiguous, given elements of Cano that remain in him, though he too should be included in the general overall line of the thinkers listed above, I think. Obviously, however, this is not meant to be a rejection whole cloth of Cano either!)
Returning to the main thread. When the theologian performs such a task, coupled with a very sound method of preaching, he performs an important task in the mystical body of Christ, enabling the faithful to see the supernatural truths of the notions that they use in their faith-knowledge. As he states (in sect. 3, pt. 2, p. 266–273), using examples of the hypostatic union, the Trinity, the nature of the human soul, and the substantial presence of Christ in the Blessed Sacrament: “By the Preaching of ‘Elevations,’ the Profound Meaning of the Mysteries of the Incarnation and the Trinity Can Be Made Accessible to Common Sense.” In fact, what we have here is something akin to the way that the philosopher should be able to address the common man. (I feel a need to tilt my hat toward Mortimer Adler, despite my significant differences from his thought.) Thus, mutatis mutandis: as the philosopher must be able transmute his own discursive discourse toward “intellectus”, direct insight of first principles, so too must the theologian be able to transmute his own discourse into the assent of faith itself. (Here, on quite different grounds yet somewhat related to what Journet has to say about sacred rhetoric, consider what Maritain has to say in Réflexions sur l’intelligence, concerning the true role of exoteric philosophical works. Something similar, though at the supernatural level, and with essential connections to the supernatural affectivity of faith, is going on here.)
Thus, as Garrigou argues (somewhat schematically and with a need for further explanation of the role of history, though his thought is not wholly insensitive to the historical development of human cognition): the notional basis of De fide assent is ultimately in continuity with common sense, not philosophical or theological elaboration. Because of the progress of knowledge over the course of the centuries, the elements of technical elaboration that are involved in the labors of theology (under the guidance of the Church) will need to be re-articulated to the non-expert, in a way that respects such technical labors but which also bears witness to the fact that the theologian has been doing nothing other than rearticulating more explicitly the revealed “given” itself.
Now, returning to On Divine Revelation. In his discussion of the intelligibility and interconnection of the mysteries (vol. 1, p. 310ff), he explicitly uses the language of “analogy” to discuss the way that revealed notions are known. But one must be very careful to note his continued discussion of the way that such intelligibility is only formally grasped through “the illumination and inspiration of the Holy Spirit.” The point is obvious. But here he makes a qualification that adds an important specification to what we find, I believe, in Hugon (who is aware of all of this, but he seems in one place at least to speak of revelation in a merely material sense). Any given statement of faith can be grasped solely materially and without faith or formally and with faith. In the former case, it is somewhat like the dog, listening to a sound, without understanding that it is a symphony. (This is an example that Garrigou-Lagrange uses on many occasions.) Or, as he says here: like a student who listens to a lecture on metaphysics without yet grasping the meaning of the principle. (At length, he considers this on p. 314-6n65. Also, see the remarks by Gardeil in his articles on probable certainty here on To Be a Thomist.)
Thus, as he states, recalling the earlier point made in relation to the gift of prophecy:
Indeed, this intelligibility of the mysteries is supernatural and hence can be attained formally only under the infused light of faith, by which our intellect is elevated and the dogmatic proposition’s notions, as well as the verb is [connecting subject and predicate], are illuminated. Otherwise a proportion between knowledge and the object to be believed would be lacking, and it would not be most firmly believed; instead, the dogmatic formulas would be known only materially, solely as regards their letter. It would be akin to the student who is not yet skilled lacking the habitus of metaphysics, whenever he does not understand a given metaphysical principle in itself (according to its necessity and absolute universality) but understands it only materially in the examples given so as to lead him onward, as it were, hand in hand (Garrigou, On Divine Revelation, vol. 1, p. 313).
And, if one only assents to the supernatural mystery from the perspective of its natural knowability, one has a case of the “letter which kills”:
Likewise, in our question: one can assent to a supernatural locution only from the perspective of what is naturally knowable in it—namely, to know the letter of Sacred Scripture and not its spirit. “For the letter killeth: but the spirit quickeneth,” 2 Corinthians 3:6 (DR), about which St. Thomas says: “The law without the spirit interiorly impressing the law upon the heart is an occasion of death” (Garrigou, On Divine Revelation, vol. 1, p. 315n65).
Finally: As he says in his commentary on the treatise on faith, ut res est God is one in his Supernatural being; ut obiectum est, he can be known by the objectifying light of: natural theology, supernatural theology, faith, the gifts, and the light of glory (cf. p. 62 of the Latin, p. 90 of English).
This is also at the heart of the whole question concerning whether one and the same thing can be known and believed. One can philosophically know the existence of God the First Cause, but still supernaturally believe in the Triune God. Thus, one and the same proposition, “God Exists” can take on two valences (cf. Garrigou, On Divine Revelation, vol. 1, p. 676-7n49). Even in the case of revelation in the Old Testament, the knowledge had by our forefathers and foremothers in faith was essentially supernatural, even though the knowledge of the Trinity was only implicit:
This is explained by St. Thomas in ST II-II, q. 1, a. 7.78 In brief, he holds that the first things that are believed [prima credibilia] were revealed before Christ’s coming, indeed from the beginning of the world, and that they are, as it were, the first principles for the whole of faith, implicitly containing the other things that are believed [prima credibilia], which would come to be revealed later. These first things to be believed are that God exists and that he repays man according to his deeds [remunerator est]. Later on, the mysteries of the Incarnation, the Redemption, and the Trinity were gradually revealed in an increasingly explicit manner. However, the faith in question is always specifically the same because as St. Thomas says, “Whatever was believed at a later time was contained in the faith of the Fathers who came before, albeit implicitly.”79
Hence, the two first things to be believed—namely, that God exists and that he repays men according to their deeds—are not only concerned with God qua Author of nature but, rather, are concerned with God qua Author of the supernatural order of grace and with providence and remuneration that are supernatural and not merely natural. Thus, “The God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob,” is called, “God our Savior,” “the Living God,” “God our refuge and our strength” (Ps 45). Likewise, “Thou art my father: my God, and the support of my salvation” (Ps 88:27, DR). It is not a question of God merely qua naturally knowable First Mover and Pure Act, for we cannot say that the supernatural mysteries that we believe were implicitly contained in the natural knowledge that Aristotle had concerning the existence of God drawn from [his knowledge of ] sensible things. Natural reason knows God from the formal perspective of being, as he is the First Being and the First Cause of natural things. Divine faith knows God from the intimate and most eminent formal perspective of the Deity, namely according to his intimate life. See ST II-II, q. 174, a. 6: “Inasmuch as it is ordered to faith in the Deity, prophetic revelation increased through three distinct eras, namely before the law, under the law, and under grace.”
Thus faith, which has always been necessary for salvation, has always been specifically the same faith. Hence, the following proposition has been condemned by the Church: “Faith in the broad sense, which is based upon the testimony of creatures or on a similar reason, is sufficient for justification.” Indeed, on the basis of this faith, broadly speaking, God is known as the Author of nature but not as the Heavenly Father, the Author of grace.
Therefore, we must distinguish the time before Christ from the time after Christ and the apostles. Before Christ, the same doctrine of faith is revealed with increasing explicitness. After Christ and the apostles, the same doctrine of faith, which was already perfectly revealed, is proposed with increasing explicitness by the Church (On Divine Revelation, vol. 1, p. 333–4)
Obviously, this involves us in all the issues related to the development of dogma, which are outside of our immediate concerns (though it is important to note the connection). Nonetheless, it indicates, as well, how faith’s supernatural illumination takes a statement that materially could be understood as a merely natural assertion—“God Exists”—and illuminates it from within so as to make it the supernatural statement of a truth that implicitly contains the mystery of the Triune God.
Thus:
In reality, on the contrary, the infused light of faith illuminates and elevates the notions and [intellectual] word by which the dogmatic formula is composed. Indeed, in this formula, the verb is can be affirmed in various manners: In the natural faith had by demons it is affirmed naturally, under the natural light [of its intellect] on account of the evidence of signs (ST II-II, q. 5, a. 2, ad 2); in infused supernatural faith it is affirmed supernaturally and infallibly under the infused light [of faith] (Garrigou, On Divine Revelation, vol. 1, p. 318n67)
Therefore, when we assert through the infused virtue of faith, “God exists,” the knowledge that we have aims at the eminent Triunity of the Godhead, in which all the “Divine Names” are unified. It is a unity that is not in need of step-by-step elaboration. And the deepest élan of faith is toward this vision of God, where all the “Divine Names” are actually and explicitly one in the supereminence of the Godhead:
As I show [in God: His Existence and His Nature and On Divine Revelation], in the question concerning the divine attributes in general, the Thomists commonly hold that the term “Deity” is to be understood as referring to the very essence of God inasmuch as it contains the divine attributes actu explicite (and not only actu implicite). By contrast, God considered from the formal perspective of Self-Subsistent Existence contains the attributes deduced from Him only actu implicite, for a deduction is required in order for them to be explicitly known (Garrigou-Lagrange, “On the Eminence of the Deity: In What Sense the Divine Perfections Are ‘Formally and Eminently’ in God,” 355)
This does not do away with the theological labor of coordinating the divine names in the light of revealed truth. However, it does relativize this task, for faith’s deepest aspiration is not merely the wisdom of discursive theological wisdom but, rather, is the silence of mystical knowledge, had by the mediacy of charity, under the sway of the gifts of the Holy Spirit. Such knowledge will not destroy our faith but, rather, will intrinsically purify it and thereby bear witness to the supreme continuity-in-distinction that exists between nature and grace, faith and reason, and the life of grace here-below and the life of Beatific Union hereafter. (On this see, Garrigou-Lagrange, “La foi éclairée par les dons,” Vie spirituelle, 657–666.)
What a super-elevation this requires for the notion of God, the supernatural God! Yes, we can philosophically form knowledge of “the God who is supernaturally above nature,” a knowledge having a natural valence and meaning (cf. Garrigou-Lagrange, Sense of Mystery, pt. 2, ch. 1). But, what such knowledge objectively expresses to reason is only in (objective) obediential potency to a knowledge that, in patria, opens out on the vision of God, and which in via is essentially supernatural, even if it is marked by the obscurities of our wayfaring state. What else could such faith-knowledge involve if not a kind of super-analogy? I think I am justified in seeing perfect continuity in this matter between Garrigou (and Hugon) and later Thomists like Maritain, Journet, Nicolas, and also Labourdette.
Thus, Themes to Recall / Develop (Garrigou)
· He develops his thought, explicitly in continuity with Hugon. Perhaps I read just a little bit too much into him when I see the act of judgment playing an important role. I am basing my remarks on his open acceptance of what is said, for example, in ST II-II, q. 1, a. 2. At times, he speaks as though natural notions could be elevated separately from the judgment of faith. Nonetheless… I recall him somewhere saying something that would anticipate what can be found in Nicolas regarding the way that such notions are primordially elevated in the very judgment of faith itself, which superelevates the notions themselves. Perhaps I am primarily basing that memory on the text from On Divine Revelation, vol. 1, p. 289
· The notions elevated are ultimately drawn from the domain of “common sense,” even if they are technically elaborated common sense. Such “technical elaboration,” however, in the supernatural order finds its highest expression in arguments of suitability, which aim at the wholly supernatural certitude of infused faith (and the Vision toward which it tends). He proposes the preaching of “elevations” as the rhetorical means for presenting such matters to faith. (Recall the connection to what Maritain says in relation to exoteric writings of philosophers.)
· He explicitly refers to analogy. The assent of faith makes one formally understand what is only materially contained in the statement when it is known by reason alone (even reason based upon motives of credibility).
· He deploys the distinction of Deus ut res est and Deus ut objectum est. For the latter, he subdivides into the following habitus: natural theology, supernatural theology, faith, the gifts, and the light of glory.
· A very good example of the superelevation that takes place through faith: God is and is a Just Rewarder. Even for the people of the Old Covenant, these two truths were known supernaturally. Faith in the Trinity was implicit. (Recall, on this matter, too, the difference between the development of revelation and the development of dogmas. See On Divine Revelation, as well as Schultes’s Introductio.)
· The ultimate “aim” of the knowledge we have of God when we affirm by Faith, “God is,” is a knowledge that in its perfect state (in patria) actu explicite contains everything that we might happen to know through explicitation. The latter is necessary even in the supernatural order (through multiple revealed truths and through discursive theology) due to the limitations of our rational intellect. However, faith intrinsically calls for its own purification by the gifts of the Holy Spirit. However, even under the operation of these gifts, faith does not disappear. It remains forever operative in via. This is at once the congenital deficiency of our current state, but it also speaks to the grandeur of the objective obediential potency of the humble affirmation of reason, “God exists.”
Notes on “The Superanalogy of Faith” (Selections from Édouard Hugon)
There are two main treatments of interest in Hugon regarding this topic, with some echoes in another work (which itself overlaps a bit with the article that will provide the lion’s share of the content for these preparatory notes).
I will begin with the more direct text, namely, two, very packed pages in his the metaphysics volume in his Cursus philosophiae thomisticae. It comes in the midst of a sub-section devoted to “metaphysica psychologica”, alongside “metaphysica ontologica.” Although the latter still bears witness to the late rationalist schemata of studies often used during his days in many seminaries, the content is closer to what one would find in sound Thomistic manuals, which would distinguish between “ostensive” and “defensive” metaphysics (or something close thereto). The section devoted to “metaphysical psychology” calls to mind the later Aristotelian genre of treatises De intellectu, which would more amply discuss the sort of content that Aristotle somewhat “speedily” discusses in the third book of the De Anima, giving rise to the great questions concerning his position regarding the unicity of the intellect. In any case, Hugon is here concerned with the human intellect qua intellect, and human appetition qua spiritual.
This text is really a summary of what he will say elsewhere. In particular, there are two subsections in tract. 1, q. 4. The first is no. 7: On cognition of supernatural realities, or on the nature of the species required for such knowledge. The second is briefer, no. 8: On the (internal) word, or concept, required for supernatural cognition. Let’s begin with the first.
The basic question that Hugon poses is: on the supposition of the revelation of supernatural realities, would there need to be species infused for such knowledge? His basic conclusion, which he reaches over the course of answering objections, is that naturally knowable species would suffice for such knowledge. The basic objection is: the species used for specifications of our knowledge should be of the same order of that very knowledge, as well as the reality that is known through them.
Hugon concedes, of course, the possibility of such divinely infused species. But he holds that, ultimately, species extracted from natural realities, can suffice for the supernatural knowledge held by faith. If the knowledge were completely direct (intuitiva), any species would be completely unnecessary. But, since they are known by way of a kind of analogical knowledge, we can sufficiently make use of natural species, so long as they receive the influence of the divine light, ordering and illuminating them. He notes, as well, that prophetic knowledge can take place without the infusion of new species. (He cites only De Veritate q. 12, a. 7, ad 3, though other texts can be drawn upon. Cf. Garrigou-Lagrange on this in On Divine Revelation.)
Then he directly responds to two separate issues raised in the objection. Regarding the need for the species to be at the level of supernatural cognition, he notes that, although they are not of the same order of such knowledge, nonetheless, they can be elevated by supernatural illumination which would in a way elevate them to that order of supernatural cognition. But as regards the need to be at the same level as the reality that is known, he carefully notes that in the case of adequate and quidditative knowledge, we would indeed need to have species of the same order (which, I add, in fact, would call for a replacement for species, through immediate vision of the Triune Deity). However, when something is known in a non-adequate, analogical manner (through faith), it can be known through other species (in this case, species abstracted from natural realities but elevated in the light of faith).
Thus, Hugon concludes, that in order for us to know “this proposition” (I would say, “this reality, through this proposition,” and surely he would agree), “There are three persons in God”, we stand in need solely of the idea of God and of person which can be had through the natural process of abstraction. (Note, however, that he doesn’t here spend time, then to talk about the particular character of such knowledge—as, for example, Garrigou-Lagrange does in Le sens commun, emphasizing its continuity with “common sense.”)
In no. 8, he makes a very important qualification. This is a great example of why no Thomist should ever leave out of consideration the verbum mentis / expressed species (and the virtual productivity that it requires). He notes that up to this point he was only speaking about the species impressa. Now, while such species can arise from created realities, this is not the case for the verbum, which belongs to the supernatural order, at the terminus and effect of a supernatural action (namely—though he doesn’t explicitly say it—the supernaturalized act that is the act of faith). Thus, although the impressed species can arise from the order of nature, this is not the case for the terminus in quo that is the verbum mentis involved in the act of faith.
Note that he does not here focus on the fact that the verbum in question is one that is formed by the 2nd operation of the intellect in judgment. (This is explicit in St. Thomas’s treatment of faith. One finds it in Garrigou and Nicolas clearly. I would venture, moreover, that in Hugon’s dogmatics manuals it comes up as well, however.)
(In all of the above, I’m weaving in and out of paraphrasing pages 136 and 137 of his manual.)
The next source is an article that he himself cites in his manual, from Revue thomiste, “Quels concepts avons-nous des vérités surnaturelles?” My purpose here is only to summarize my findings, with page numbers.
Basic issue: when we receive revelation, it is not a random event, without any connection whatsoever to our natural knowledge. If that were so, you would have a complete extrinsicism between nature and grace, between reason and faith. (I note: there is something like the logic of obediential potency at play here. But it is something that I have elsewhere called “objective obediential potency” in the ratio analogata.)
Now he begins just by considering the normal conditions of human knowledge. As I even have marked my margins here: it is pretty standard Thomism. He has normal discussions of the need for the phantasm, the difference between our knowledge, and that had by the angels, the fact that, even in the most abstract and analogical knowledge that we have, will be marked by its humble beginnings, etc. (p. 413–416).
As he then turns to consider our knowledge of supernatural truths, he notes that he cannot spend time refuting the traditionalism which would deny our mind’s native capacities for knowledge (p. 416). But, as he continues, the knowledge that we have of supernatural truths takes place supernaturally, above the mere powers of reason. Although it could have been infused, on the model of Christ’s infused knowledge (as articulated by St. Thomas), he ordinarily makes use of the external senses (bodily visions) or the internal senses (visions of the imagination). But here we have an echo of the same point that he summarizes in his manual: such knowledge involves the divine illumination, disposing, and arranging of pre-existing knowledge by way of analogy. Technically, here, however, he cites texts that are related to the question of prophecy (not only DV as above, but also ST II-II, q. 173, a. 2 and 3).
Thus, you basically get the position of what Hugon said in his manual: the senses and abstraction minister to the act of faith. Here, however, we should register a slight problem in his vocabulary. He notes carefully—and cites the appropriate texts from the various western synods / councils (Orange II, Trent, Vatican I)—that the act by which we had here to these supernatural truths, presupposes supernatural illumination in the intellect and the supernatural inspiration “of the Holy Spirit in the will. However, Hugon says: “the ideas that express these truths are natural and acquired” (p. 418). First, there is the issue of the term “idea,” which really just belongs in the domain of practical cognition. (The term “idea” should be strictly reserved terminologically for the creative idea / exemplar.) But, moreover, there is the latent lack of differentiation between impressed species and expressed species, which calls for more articulation. (Here, I think that something can be gained by considering at least something of the way that Maritain talks about the transition from the “moment” of impression to the moment of expression. See the early chapters of Creative Intuition in Art and Poetry.) But, he will continue later on to make the appropriate observations regarding the verbum mentis. It is important, however, always to note the immense impropriety of referring to the species impressa as being an idea. It is neither such in a strictly terminological sense, nor as the terminal expression in which we attain knowledge of the others as other.
Hugon then goes on to lay out the way that the mental word is expressed under the illumination of faith and the motion in the will that is involved in faith. (As is often the case, the illumination gets a little bit more attention. But we can read this reverentially.) Between p. 418 and 419, he lays out what he says, in a much shorter form, in the manual. He notes the work of comparison and elimination involved. And with Gardeil (“La réforme de la théologie Catholique: (II) La relativité des formules dogmatiques”, RT 12 [1904]: 48–76), Hugon notes how proportionality is involved all throughout our cognition in such divine matters, and that it is utterly important for maintaining the transcendence of such knowledge alongside its connection to our knowledge. (Gardeil is arguing against Loisy’s symbolistic view of revelation, and it is clearly in the background here for Hugon, who stresses that one is not here speaking of metaphors.) As a note in summary: he has all of the proportional structure for this to be understood as a super-analogy, but he does not use the expression. But, we will find something tending even more in this direction, when we consider what Garrigou says in On Divine Revelation regarding the elevation of notions in the judgment of faith. (This basically will provide the point of connection between what Journet, Maritain, and Nicolas say and the older tradition.)
Hugon then goes on to connect all of this to the question of dogmatic development: for such truths are vital and the principle of development (though not changed). There is much of interest here, but it goes beyond the paper for which these notes are being gathered (cf. p. 422–29). He basically takes a position that is close to that which is held by Schultes, it seems—including on the use of ecclesiastical faith. (I believe Garrigou directly ranks him alongside Schultes in the faith commentary.) I think that all of this is quite necessary in order to avoid thinking of faith, as though it were merely a kind of single act, fashioned outside of the progress of history. But, I must leave that point of development for another venue, likely one in which I find myself defending Schultes against Marín-Sola….
Finally, some brief remarks from the essay “Foi et revelation” in his volume Réponses théologiques à quelques questions d’actualité. The context here is the importance of distinguishing illumination, revelation, and faith. (Loisy would be someone who identifies the latter two; [Constantin?] Gutberlet would be someone for whom supernatural faith could possibly exist without revelation.) Illumination is the ennobling of the mind, revelation involves the unveiling of a new datum (p. 97), whether natural (but hidden) or supernatural (p. 98). He takes up the questions studied in the previous article (p. 99–100). He notes the way that the notion (“concept”) becomes “transformed” and filled with new realities (“s’est rempli d’autres réalités”), enabling the mind to perceive heretofore unknown truths (p. 100). What is most important in making revelation unique from mere illumination: manifestation Veritatis ignotae (p. 101). (He draws a parallel to prophecy, which is not 100% the best comparison, but it at least gives a foothold.)
Revelation is distinct from faith because the former is objective, whereas the latter “subjective” (i.e., in the subject). Technically, even “passive revelation” is not necessarily an adherence, whereas “faith is an act of homage by our intellect offered to the truth proposed by God” (p. 101). Moreover, revelation can become wholly evident, whereas faith is by its nature obscure (p. 103). He speaks about knowledge of revelation without faith and could perhaps strengthen what he says by noting the way that such truths would be only materially known without faith. He goes so far as to say that illumination is less that revelation (in that it can be had without new truths) but is more than revelation since illumination and the Spirit’s inspiration assures that the intellect is conquered by the revealed truth (p. 104–105). (Probably, to be fair, one should see what he says in his analysis of the act of faith as well.)
In “Pas de fois sans revelation” he provides a general account of the supernaturality of faith which coheres well with what can be found in other Dominican authors like Garrigou-Lagrange. (i.e., Faith, in the Catholic sense of the word, requires a supernatural principle, motive, and object.) He also notes (and discusses in the following chapter) the issue of how to deal with those to whom the revealed truth has not been proposed explicitly by the Church. This has its interest, and he has written on it elsewhere too. But, it lays outside of the concerns of these notes.
Thus, Themes to Recall / Develop (Hugon)
· He is aware of a kind of analogy involved here.
· With Gardeil, he stresses the importance of proportionality (context: vs. Loisy)
· But he does not draw out the full implications of the super-analogical structure involved. (He is not, however, opposed to it.)
· The presupposed natural knowledge only goes so far as the impressed species
· The verbum mentis is supernaturalized
· He does not, however, seem to emphasize the role of judgment here (cf. ST II-II, q. 1, a. 2)
· Something could be added by considering how Maritain treats the transition between the impressed and expressed species
· Hugon seems to be correct, in general, however. Therefore, it shows the danger caused when Thomist philosophers deny the importance of something like the verbum mentis in natural cognition. They eliminate the natural analogate needed not only for discussing the Word but also the very “supernatural psychology” of faith itself.
· He notes the way that all of this must be understood vitally, living in the context of dogmatic development.
· Distinction between illumination, revelation, and faith (with qualifications about how he discusses revelation, which does emphasize that it is merely material without faith and illumination, though he clearly holds this).
· In “Comment dieu accorde à toutes les âmes de bonne volonté la connaissance de la revelation surnaturelle,” he presents a brief account of the way that those who have not had the revealed message explicitly proposed to them: angels or a direct providential action by God.
· All of what he says provides an important defense against extrinsicism in the order of cognition. (See my comments regarding objective obediential potency.)
