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Key insights from
Aristotle’s Children: How Christians,
Muslims, and Jews Rediscovered Ancient Wisdom and Illuminated the Middle
Ages
By
Richard E. Rubenstein
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What you'll learn
Richard E. Rubenstein (1938-) is an author and Professor of
Conflict Resolution and Public Affairs at George Mason University, holding
degrees from Harvard University, Oxford University, and Harvard Law School.
He has written numerous books analyzing periods of violent and non-violent
conflicts across human history. He has also been a part of numerous peace
movements regarding domestic and international issues in the 1960s and 70s.
In Aristotle’s Children, Rubenstein analyzes the reclamation of
Aristotelian thought in the Middle Ages, with an emphasis on the response
of the Roman Catholic Church.
Read on for key insights from Aristotle’s Children.
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1. After the
decline of the Roman empire, classical civilization was preserved in Muslim
countries.
In the seventh century, both halves of the fractured Roman
empire lost touch with their intellectual heritage. These cultural
resources had been waning for a couple centuries due to Rome’s loss of
political and economic predominance. Alongside the political turmoil of
this period, the Catholic Church was developing its ideological and
cultural prestige. Numerous church councils across the preceding three
centuries generated official church doctrine, as well as ideological rifts
between the church and newly minted heretics.
These twin pressures sent refugees of the Roman empire and
Christianity to Arab countries. These countries would become Islamic after
the rise of Mohammed, leading to a cultural revolution that would dominate
the early Middle Ages. Yet within these newly Islamic lands, many
influential texts brought by the refugees were preserved and kept safe as
barbarian tribes carved up Roman territories.
Significant amongst these texts was a nearly complete corpus
of Aristotle’s works, lost to the Christian West but now at home in the
Islamic East. These works—covering topics ranging from the soul and ethics
to natural science and politics—were translated from Greek into Syriac,
Persian, and eventually Arabic for dissemination throughout Islam.
Five long centuries passed, until the crusades in the 11th
and 12th centuries led to a great cross-cultural event. In the formerly
Islamic city of Toledo, Spain, the church stumbled upon massive libraries
containing Greek and Roman texts—chiefly Aristotle’s—that had been missing for
half a millennium. Moreover, Christian scholars also encountered a rich
tradition of Islamic philosophy borne out of deep reflection upon these
preserved texts.
For the first time in several hundred years, the
intellectual culture of the West was externally stimulated by both the
reclamation of Aristotelian philosophy and the Arab philosophers who had
laboriously incorporated, refined, and developed their own philosophical
tradition in response to Aristotle. Translation teams representing Greek,
Jewish, Islamic, and Christian peoples descended on these libraries to
begin the task of disseminating these lost books to the West.
Beginning in Toledo in the early 12th century, this
cross-pollination of the intellectual resources of Christendom, Islam, and
Judaism set the course for a new phase in human history.
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2. The
intellectual culture of Christendom at this time applied rational methods
to the mysteries of its faith.
Prior to the initial reclamation of Aristotelian philosophy
by Christendom, numerous theologians and monks were applying the tenets of
logic to the doctrines of the faith. Though the Christian faith has never
rebuked the usage of reason, many Christians had previously valued an
understanding of reason as a tool limited by the brokenness of man and the
magnificence of God.
The Middle Ages brought an increasing emphasis on the power
of rationality to disclose heretofore unknown truths regarding the
doctrines of faith. Previously sacrosanct topics such as the Trinity, the
Incarnation, and the nature of the Lord’s Supper were now being subjected
to the canons of logic and the philosophical tools bequeathed by Aristotle.
It was not enough for some to assert these divine mysteries to be real and
miraculous, one also had to understand them in human language and concepts.
One notable figure who accelerated this cultural shift was
Peter of Abelard. A renowned philosopher, debater, and theologian, Abelard
is known for shaking up the burgeoning European university culture with his
provocative analysis of Christian doctrine. One notable work of his is
called Yes and No. It is a workbook composed of various statements
of noted Church Fathers on various topics, many of which contradict each
other. Though Abelard composed this text to help his students navigate
different arguments and work out the inconsistencies, some saw his work as
deliberately inflammatory. Though a Christian through and through, Abelard
did intentionally seek to raise doubts so that they could be rationally
handled. In the preface to the work, Abelard even calls upon the example of
Aristotle, who encouraged his students to doubt, inquire, and by inquiry
perceive the truth of a matter.
Though a noble aim, prompting intentional doubt is a risky
endeavor when it comes to issues of piety and fidelity to the one true God.
Abelard’s work, however, was but a foretaste of things to come as the
medieval church began to reconsider its concept of truth, the pursuit of
religious knowledge, and how one rightly honors God with one’s mind.
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3. Despite an
initial ban on Aristotle, numerous Christian communities sought to
reconcile his philosophy with Christian theology.
In the beginning of the 13th century, two powerful Christian
orders became enmeshed in the University of Paris. In 1217, the Dominicans,
who emphasized intellectual rigor and debate against heretics, enrolled as
students. The Fransican order emphasized care for the poor and pastoral
ministry. They established a presence in Paris two years later. Members of
both orders were students and teachers in the university, and soon spread
to other major European universities.
The church had imposed a ban on Aristotelian “natural
philosophy” for numerous universities in the early 13th century. This was
largely a response to heretical sects of Christendom that had armed themselves
with Aristotle’s arguments to promote their erroneous doctrines. Despite
the official removal of Aristotle from lectures and curricula across
Europe, the University of Paris, well known as the center of theological
education and research, bore this ban most severely. Maintaining the ban in
Paris created a barrier, keeping philosophical practices from endangering
the church’s theological traditions. The University of Paris experienced
pressure from the ban until the 1230s, when the Dominicans and Franciscans
arrived, adopted teaching positions and increasingly emphasized the return
of Aristotle to the curricula. Their insistence on studying all of
Aristotle’s works led to adoption of Aristotelian thought into the fabric
of Catholic orthodoxy, in part because of the orders’ connections to
powerful church figures.
One noted figure during this period was Albert the Great, a
Dominican friar noted for both his theological and philosophical insights,
as well as his work as a scientist. Botany and zoology were his greatest
scientific pursuits, and he collected various species of plant and animal
life. Albert’s fascination with the natural world was motivated by his
reading and reflection upon Aristotle’s works. Devoted as he was to
preserving the faith, he likewise maintained that experience, what we would
call empirical research, was the path to certainty in practical matters of
knowledge. Rather than mix Aristotle and Christianity, Albert considered
empirical, logical, and Scriptural reasoning as distinct forms of inquiry,
each with its own method. Albert’s opinions became part of the major
debates that would well up in the church.
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4. Reading
Aristotle raised questions for the Medieval Church about the intersection
of philosophy and theology.
Despite the earnest approach to Aristotle taken up by Albert
and other church scholars, numerous questions arose regarding the
intersection of theology, philosophy proper, and natural philosophy (what
we presently call science). Could one really treat them all as separate
entities? Did each have its own methods, object of study, and clearly
defined lines that kept it from the others? It seems that the domains of
these disciplines overlapped, with a question poised in philosophy having
theological and scientific considerations as well.
For example, consider the origin of the universe. In
Aristotle’s philosophical texts, he claims that the universe is uncreated
and eternal. Nowadays, thanks to empirical research in the science of
astrophysics, the big bang hypothesis interposes an answer that is
scientific with inescapable philosophical commitments. Moreover, even in
the Middle Ages, theological considerations amongst Christians, Jews, and
Muslims prevented them from agreeing with Aristotle. To do so would contradict
their Scriptures, which reveal a distinct creator God who formed the
universe out of nothing.
More than just presenting queries, investigations and
answers, Aristotle’s reintroduction to the church gave budding theologians
new conceptual tools and prompted specific issues in their understanding of
God. For example, questions arose concerning how God creates and sustains
his world. Does God presently create? We may be inclined to say no after
reading Genesis 1 and 2, or if we simply believe the world was created a
long time ago and now operates on its own. To say the world operates on its
own natural causes—like Earth rotating around the sun or plants growing out
of seeds—seems to distance God from his creation. Since Christianity
teaches that God is providential and sustains creation, this could lead us
to believe that the natural world is continually being propped up or
renewed by God. Seemingly, the operation of the natural world has both
natural and supernatural causes, an idea known at the time as dual
causation.
Questions about dual causation dominated discussion in the
Middle Ages. If God is wedded too closely to his Creation as the sole
cause, then one risks pantheism, of creation being God. If God is too far
from his creation, one has to reconsider the Scriptures that depict him as
a sustainer and present Father. As Aristotle’s works became more
intertwined with Medieval Christianity, issues such as these brought
philosophy and theology into debates like never before in the history of
Christendom.
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5. In the late
13th century, some radical Christian philosophers divided philosophical and
theological truth.
In the second half of the 13th century, a group of radical
Aristotelian philosophers at the University of Paris insisted on a division
between the truths of theology and philosophy. Previously, the assumption
that all truth is God’s truth permeated Christendom broadly and the
universities in particular. Though debates had risen about the relevance of
Aristotelian thought to Christian doctrine, the common conception of truth
at the time was unitary. The radical philosophers in Paris called this into
question with a belief that came to be called Double Truth.
This group, led by a scholar named Siger de Brabant, claimed
not only that philosophy and theology were distinct fields of inquiry, but
also that they each had their own truths that could exist in contradiction
to those of the other field. Double Truth meant that something could be
true “scientifically” (that is, according to observation or argumentation)
while being false theologically (that is, according to Scripture), or vice
versa. This position reflected the group’s insistence on Aristotle’s
authority and on the use of reason to discover truth. The problem with this
position is that it allows for open logical contradictions.
Consider the origin of the world again. Aristotle has
philosophical arguments defending the standard Greek view that creation is
eternal. Even under experience and observation of the world around us, we
must conclude that every effect we see has to have a cause, and causes must
exist for those causes, and so on forever. Yet the Scriptures explicitly
reveal the Creator God, who made the world at a definite time. Rather than
try to connect the overlapping answers of philosophy, theology and science,
de Brabant held that philosophically the world was truly eternal, while theologically
it was truly created by the Triune God. Deference must be given to matters
of faith, to be sure, but truth could be philosophical in one way, and
theological in another.
De Brabant and his students muted the belief of Double Truth
in their official writings, but its influence remained. Their insistence on
separate, at times contradictory truths, cut against the core value in
Christendom that all truth is God’s, and therefore whole. The debates still
continued regarding the usage of reason alongside faith. Unlike previous
debates in the church which regarded reason as dangerous, but still useful
for pursuing truth when correctly applied, reason was now regarded as
separate from faith, with its own distinct truth. De Brabant and his
students envisioned a schism between the tools of reason and the resources
of faith. As this vision permeated the broader culture, it began to reshape
Western civilization.
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6. In the 14th
century, William of Ockham sought to defend God by separating reason and
faith.
When this schism was at its worst, in an era of the Middle
Ages now known as Scholasticism, some people resorted to radical moves to
defend the faith from the overreach of reason. Though some had sought a
happy synthesis between Aristotle and orthodoxy, later figures like William
of Ockham saw only the corruptions of an ideology gone too far.
Ockham was aware of the triumphs of philosophy in the
church, but mostly saw the tragedies it brought. One famous aspect of his
work is commonly called Ockham’s Razor today. It is a philosophical
principle by which one prefers the simpler of two otherwise equal
explanations. Such a pragmatic principle reflects Ockham’s rather radical
philosophical commitments. Rather than discuss abstract entities and
obscure questions of Aristotle’s metaphysics, Ockham thought such
intangible matters unreal and pernicious to a Christian’s faith. Who cares
about the laws of nature? Isn’t God in control of all things? Why bother
considering the form of a man’s soul when it is God who formed him without
reference to some external, invisible Ideas?
Ockham’s problem with the scholastic age, and chiefly with
Thomas Aquinas, was the conflating and mixing of the natural and the
supernatural. Continuing the separation of previous philosophers, Ockham
sought to undo past damage by demystifying nature and demystifying God. God
is other, accessible only by the doctrines revealed by Scripture or the
Church. Nature is here, able to be assessed, experienced, and manipulated
by man’s observational and rational powers.
Ockham’s radical philosophy was governed by a theological
disposition that reflected his Franciscan upbringing. Who can know the mind
of the Almighty? How can mortal man presume to, as Aristotle thought, share
in the intellect by which the universe was formed? There had been a
corruption in the meaning of theology, according to Ockham. Theology was
not studying God, nor thinking His thoughts after him. These were
philosophical ambitions that denied God his majesty. Theology was listening
and receiving the Word of God through his Scripture and the Church.
Ockham’s work was undoubtedly philosophical, but it was
simultaneously an invective against the preceding era of Christendom, which
sought to mix things that he believed must remain separate. In order to
give proper reverence to God, we must keep our faith unsullied by the
machinations of reason. Ockham wanted to return to a simpler age, to undo
the present and restore a pre-scholastic past, where faith’s mysteries were
treated as mysteries. But attempts to return to the past rarely end well,
and Ockham’s attempts to remove philosophy from theology were unsuccessful
in the face of a growing bifurcation between faith and reason, church and
world, man and God.
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Endnotes
These insights are
just an introduction. If you're ready to dive deeper, pick up a copy of In the
Aristotle's Children here. And since we get a commission on
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