The Palamite Controversy A Thomistic Ana PDF
The Palamite Controversy A Thomistic Ana PDF
The Palamite Controversy A Thomistic Ana PDF
A Thomistic Analysis
A Thesis
Submitted to the
Pontifical Faculty of the Immaculate Conception
In Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements
For the Degree of
By
Introduction ...................................................................................................................................... 1
Chapter 2: God And His Activity in the World: A Thomistic Approach ..................................... 49
Distinctions ............................................................................................................................ 50
Divine Simplicity and the “Things Around God” .................................................................. 62
Creation: What It Is Not, And What It Is ............................................................................... 69
God’s Intimate Presence to the World Through His Activity ................................................ 76
A Note on Deification ............................................................................................................ 79
Thomism and the Divine Energies......................................................................................... 83
Conclusion ......................................................................................................................................... 99
Appendix: Syllogistic Chapters Against the Heresies of the Akindynists Concerning the Distinc-
tion of the Divine Essence and Energy .................................................................................. 101
The Eastern Orthodox theologian and saint, Gregory Palamas (1296-1357), is noted for his
discussion of God's essence and His “energies”—that is, his activities or operations in the world.
According to Gregory, God's energies are uncreated, and they are—prior to the conceiving of the human
mind—really distinct from the divine essence. This understanding of God, which some hold to be
contrary to God's simplicity, is meant to offer an explanation for the Christian doctrines of creation,
deification, and heavenly beatitude. God's essence is unknowable, but we can have a participatory
knowledge of God's energies because they act on us, and we behold them. The paradigmatic example of
this is the disciples' experience on Mount Tabor. The divine energies acted on them, enabling them to
see the uncreated energies of Jesus streaming off of him in the form of visible light.
Gregory's teaching has been controversial ever since he formulated it. At first, the controversy
was limited to the Byzantine world. Gregory sought to defend a monastic revival that began on Mount
Athos in the fourteenth century that went by the name of “hesychasm.” The controversy surrounding the
hesychast monks and Gregory’s defense of them quickly became entangled in the intellectual and
political divisions of the day, with the Palamites eventually gaining ecclesiastical hegemony. As the late
Empire began to look westward in increasing desperation for help against the growing Turkish threat,
the Palamite controversy began to change into another East-West controversy. Through the mediation of
Dominican missionaries, a small circle of intellectuals in governmental circles and monks who were
dissatisfied with the hesychast form of monastic life began to use the theology of Thomas Aquinas to
Palamas’ teaching was developed in a context that was extremely polemical at five different
levels all at once. First, there was the metaphysical debate: was Gregory's “real” distinction between the
essence and the energies correct? Second, there was the debate about tradition: was Gregory's
distinction based on a complete and correct reading of the Fathers, or was it an innovation? Third, there
was the debate about prayer and monasticism: is hesychasm worth defending? Fourth, there was a
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debate about the role of pagan learning in Christianity in general and theological argument in particular.
Fifth, there was a long dynastic civil war during the heart of the debate over Palamas' teaching, a war in
The Palamite controversy was definitively settled in 1368 with the canonization of Palamas and
the condemnation of some of his early Byzantine Thomist critics. The issue lay dormant in Eastern
theology, until the so-called “neo-Patristic” revival of Eastern Orthodox theology in the early twentieth
century. This movement had many parallels and personal contacts with the contemporaneous
“ressourcement” movement in Catholic theology, with which it had similar goals. The neo-Patristic
revival in Orthodox theology highlighted once more the role of Gregory Palamas as the person who
synthesized the Greek patristic tradition and ensured its definitive orientation towards mystical prayer.
With the revival of Palamite theology, there was also a revival of the polemics surrounding it. But along
with the older debates about the metaphysical validity of the essence-energies distinction and its
relationship to the teachings of the Fathers, new issues emerged. The debate between Gregory Palamas
and his fourteenth-century opponents has been read as a commentary on modern theological debates: to
highlight what is right or wrong with either Western neo-scholastic theology or Eastern neo-Patristic
theology. These debates, moreover, have not been without ecumenical interest. Often enough,
ecumenical rapprochement between East and West has been framed in terms of the acceptance or
rejection of the type of theology that Gregory Palamas has proposed—or, at least, the type of theology
More recently, there has been a growing consensus that the standard twentieth-century
interpretations of the Palamite controversy need to be re-thought.1 New historical work has given us
new insights into Palamas’ critics. Moreover, new attention is being given both to the early adopters of
Thomas Aquinas in the Byzantine Empire and to the various ways that Thomistic theology may, to an
1 Andrew Louth, review of Juan Nadal-Cañellas, La résistance d’Akindynos à Grégoire Palamas: Enquête historique, avec tra-
duction et commentaire de quatre traités édités récemment, Journal of Theological Studies NS 57 (2006) 346-8.
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extent, be respectfully received by the Christian East.2
Our purpose here is to examine the Palamite controversy—in its classical and modern
expressions—from a Thomistic viewpoint. We bring four presuppositions to this study. First, spiritual
depth and technical theology need not be opposed, and in fact, often mutually support one another. This
false dichotomy ought to be retired. Second, the traditional Thomistic approach to divine simplicity and
the metaphysics of creation, when properly understood (as it often is not), is more speculatively
satisfying than the Palamite real distinction between essence and energy in God. 3 Third, although
Thomist and Palamite metaphysics are not quite the same (and hence, they cannot both be entirely true),
this difference is at the level of theological opinion, and is not so great as to be church-dividing. Fourth,
this is because both schools maintain an intense interest in mysticism and the spiritual life—and the real
In chapter one, we will examine the history of the Palamite controversy of the fourteenth
century (and consider how it has been read in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries). In chapter two,
we will look at how traditional Thomistic theology has conceived God’s action in the world, particularly
with respect to creation. We hope to show that the Thomistic approach presents a view which is tightly
coherent, metaphysically profound, and speculatively correct, and which saves the Palamite concerns
about God’s transcendence, his intimate presence to the world, and its mystical orientation. In chapter
three, we will then answer some Palamite objections. After examining how Palamas conceives the
essence-energies distinction, we will look at the work of the fifteenth-century monk and bishop, Mark
of Ephesus, who at the very end of the Empire, gave us a précis of the classical Palamite objections to
the real identity of God’s essence and energies. Then we will look at two prominent modern
2Marcus Plested, Orthodox Readings of Aquinas, Changing Paradigms in Historical and Systematic Theology (Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2012).
3Some Eastern Orthodox theologians are coming around to a more sympathetic view of Aquinas. An example of this is the ex-
cellent book by Marcus Plested which is mentioned above. But Plested sometimes suggests that it is the St. Thomas that has been
recovered by modern scholarship that can be acceptable to the Orthodox. A leitmotiv of this study is to show that the reflections of
classical Thomism—which, contrary to widespread perception, was deeply interested in questions of prayer and spirituality—also
deserve a more sympathetic reading.
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philosophical defenses of Palamism, that of Eric Perl and that of David Bradshaw.
We will conclude by arguing that the Thomist and Palamite approaches are incompatible at the
level of philosophical explanation, and that we should opt for Thomism over Palamism. But, this
philosophical incompatibility occurs in the context of a larger, shared doctrinal and spiritual agreement.
Thus, when certain misunderstandings of Thomism are cleared up, and certain extreme expressions are
purged from Palamism, the dispute between the two emerges as a school dispute, which need not
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Chapter 1
In order to examine how the Palamite controversy unfolded, first we will briefly set the stage by
looking at the historical context of the period in which Gregory Palamas was active. Then, before we
get on with the narration of the conflict proper, we will stop to consider the various ways that this story
has been told in the recent past, to see what they have to teach us. After that (and after a brief biography
of Gregory Palamas), we will move on to the Palamite controversy proper. First, Palamas and the
Calabrian monk Barlaam debated the way in which God is known. In this context, Gregory articulated a
very early intuition of his distinction. Second, as tempers flared, Barlaam began to criticize the monks
who practiced hesychasm, ultimately denouncing them to the Holy Synod of Constantinople. But, this
attempt backfired, and Barlaam got condemned in 1341. Third, Gregory Akindynos—erstwhile friend of
both Barlaam and Palamas—supported hesychast prayer, but fought Palamas' distinction between the
essence and energies. This ended with his condemnation, and another proclamation that Palamism is
doctrine in 1347 and again in 1351, due to the attacks against Palamas of scholar and former rival of
Barlaam, the humanist Nikephoros Gregoras. Fourth, with the translation of the works of St. Thomas
Aquinas into Greek, there were more attacks against Palamism, which ended with the condemnation of
Prokoros Kydones in 1368. Byzantine disciples of Thomas Aquinas had to make a definitive choice for
the West.
The last phase of the history of the Byzantine Empire began on July 25, 1261. It was on this day
that Michael Palaiologos, ruler of the rump empire of Nicaea recaptured Constantinople from the
Western ruler Baldwin II, put an end to the Latin rule over the City, which had existed since the end of
the Fourth Crusade in 1204. Crowned Michael VIII, along with his infant son, Andronikos II, on August
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15, he founded a dynasty that would rule the restored Empire—with one exception, the rule of John
Kantakuzenos—until its collapse at the hands of the Ottoman Turks on May 29, 1453.
The late empire was a period of great cultural and intellectual achievement, which ultimately
played not a small role in inaugurating the Renaissance in the West. The political situation, on the other
hand, was one of almost continual decline. Internally, the Empire was destabilized by dynastic civil war
from 1341-1354. This would be the final blow from which the empire would never really recover.
Externally, the Empire was pressed upon from the East and from the West. From the East came the
Turks, who would successively conquer Asia Minor and the European portions of the Empire, before
turning to Constantinople itself. More complex was the relationship with the Latin West. Age old
cultural and theological differences coupled with the more recent memory of the Fourth Crusade and
subsequent Latin empire created a culture of mutual suspicion. A West which was on the rise both
intellectually and economically was interested in the trade and culture of the Empire, and some
parties—particularly those of Genoa and Venice—were not shy about growing their trading networks
and commercial domination at the expense of the Greeks. The Byzantines, for their part often saw
recourse to the West as their only hope against the Turks. But the Pope, who was the one in the position
Although the Empire declined in this period, the Orthodox Church experienced no such parallel
decline. During this time, the Church exercised an influence well beyond the shrinking boundaries of
the Empire. It remained in communion with Orthodox patriarchates in Antioch and Jerusalem, but it
also claimed communicants of its own in lands now occupied by Turks and in rump Greek states that
were never really re-integrated into the Empire after 1261. Added to this were the Orthodox Serbs,
Bulgarians, and Russians. The Eastern portion of Christendom had traditionally held to a strong sense of
symphonia between Church and Empire, which justified the preeminence of the church of
4 The standard history for the period is Donald M. Nicol, The Last Centuries of Byzantium, 2nd edition (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1993). For interesting sociological information on the period, see Angeliki e. Laiou, “The Palaiologoi and the
World around Them (1261-1400),” in The Cambridge History of the Byzantine Empire, ed. Jonathan Shephard (Cambridge: Cam-
bridge University Press, 2008), 803–33.
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Constantinople. So, as the political fortunes of the Empire grew more bleak and governmental leaders
had to take a more pragmatic look at the rising powers both to the East and to the West, ecclesiastical
leaders held on to a high and idealized concept of Empire, even as they began to exercise an authority
A key feature of ecclesiastical life in the fourteenth century was a monastic revival that went
under the name of “hesychasm.” The name is derived from the Greek word ἡσυχία, meaning “stillness,
rest, or quiet,” the attainment of which was the goal of this form of prayer. The movement was both
traditional and innovative—it saw itself in the light of older practices, but contained innovative forms of
prayer. Nikodemos of the Holy Mountain (1749-1809) and Makarios of Corinth (1731-1805) compiled
the standard canon for this movement, the famous Philokalia, an anthology of spiritual texts from the
third to the fifteenth century.6 The hesychasts were innovative in promoting a new style of prayer. They
recommended a psychosomatic method of praying the Jesus Prayer that involved sitting low to the
ground, controlling the breath, and lowering the head. This method of prayer was meant to yield an
experience of God that was physically and sensible tangible in a strong sense, akin to what the disciples
experienced on Mount Tabor. This school of monasticism tended to marginalize (and, in some cases,
bypass) the coenobitic elements of monasticism, and tended to lay extra stress on its solitary elements. It
also tended to lay stress on a personal relationship with a spiritual father, over against other forms of
authority. This movement even had a “missionary” wing: the movement was centered on Mount Athos,
but many of its leading exponents established circles of lay followers in the cities. For its proponents,
then, it was a form of spiritual renewal, but for its critics, it could easily be seen as subversive of
5 Michael Angold, “Byzantium And the West 1204-1453,” in The Cambridge History of Christianity, vol. vol. 5: Eastern Chris-
tianity (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006), 53–78.
6 Nikodemos of the Holy Mountain and Makarios of Corinth, The Philokalia: A Complete Text, ed. G. E. H Palmer, Philip Sher-
rard, and Kallistos Ware, 4 vols. (London: Faber and Faber, 1983). The fourth volume contains the precise texts that were central to
the hesychast revival of Palamas’ time. It has works by Symeon the New Theologian, Nikitas Stithatos, Theoliptos of Philadelphia,
Nikiphoros the Monk, Gregory of Sinai, and Gregory Palamas,
7 A good overview of the movement is Tomas Spidlik, Prayer: The Spirituality of the Christian East. Volume 2 (Kalamazoo,
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This reconfiguration of monastic life naturally prompted criticism from some quarters. A
particular criticism was the alleged connection of the hesychast movement with a phenomenon called
“Messsalianism,” (a Syriac-derived term) whose adherents were also called “Euchites” in Greek, “ones
who pray.” They espoused a sort of monastic charismatic enthusiasm which downplayed liturgy,
asceticism, and manual labor in favor of a form of solitary prayer with a very strong affective and
imaginative component. Messalianism was first noticed in the late fourth and early fifth centuries, as
something having a Syriac Christian origin.8 It was probably more of a tendency, with a continuum of
orthodox and heterodox manifestations, rather than an organized movement.9 But, it was able to be
identified as a heresy by John of Damascus.10 Thus, the term could be used to highlight a recurring
problem: “enthusiastic” anti-sacramentalism that was subversive of monastic and ecclesiastical order,
but it could also be a convenient term of abuse with which to label one’s enemies. As we will see,
during one of his stays at Mount Athos, Gregory Palamas came under the sway of the hesychastic
revival, which may have been “Messalian” in some sense. It is to defend the legitimacy of his fellow
Before we turn to the details of the Palamite controversy proper, it will be helpful to examine the
Cistercian Publications, 2005): 319-357. See also Irénée Hausherr, “L’hesychasme. Étude de spiritualité,”Orientalia Christiana Peri-
odica 22 (1956): 5-40 and idem. “A propos de spiritualité hésychaste: controverse sans contradicteur,” Orientalia Christiana Peri-
odica 3 (1937): 260-72. For a critical assessment of the hesychast movement, see Dirk Krausmüller, “The Rise of Hesychasm,” in
The Cambridge History of Christianity, vol. vol 5: Eastern Christainity (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006), 101–26. For
a more positive assessment see John Meyendorff, A Study of Gregory Palamas, trans. George Lawrence (Crestwood: St. Vladimir’s
Seminary Press, 1998), 15–28.
8
Irénée Hausherr, “Lérreur fondamentale et la logique du Messalianisme, Orientalia Christiana Periodica 1 (1935) 328-60.
9 A classical typology of Eastern Christian spirituality has been to classify its sources as Greek or Syriac. “Greek” sources, have
a marked Stoic or Platonic influence and tend toward intellectualism, focusing on the nous. The characteristic heresy of this tendency
was Origenism or Evagriansm. “Syriac” sources tend to be more experiential and sensual, focusing on the theme of the heart. The
characteristic heresy being Messalianism. (See, for example, Irénée Hausherr, “Les grands courants de la spiritualité orientale,” Ori-
entalia Christiana Periodica, 1 (1935) 114-138. On this reading, the task for Eastern Christian spiritual authors is to come up with a
dynamic synthesis of these sources. This classification, however, does not hold up well if it is pressed very hard, as these two group-
ings cannot be strictly segregated into rigidly distinct cultural types. Neo-Platonism was embraced and transformed by the Syrian
Iamblichus, for instance. Some of the works of pseudo-Makarios (which are prototypically “Syriac”) have been linked with Gregory
of Nyssa. Scholars of pseudo-Dionysius have suggested a Syriac social setting for his work.
10 John of Damascus, “On Heresies,” in Writings, trans. Frederic H. Chase, The Fathers of the Church: A New Translation 37
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various ways that its history has been told in modern times. This history has been told a number of times
and in a number of different ways over the past century. 11 Three factors account for this multiplication
of conflicting narratives. First, many accounts of the controversy are written with a clear bias in favor of
or against a particular party.12 The second factor only exacerbates the first: many of the modern
narratives of the Palamite controversy were written before good editions of major primary sources were
available.13 Thus, some of the parties of the controversy were unable to speak to modern historians and
theologians in their own words; the latter were, in fact, forced to see these parties through the eyes of
their opponents—a risky business, given the highly polemical tone of the sources in question. Not only
this but occasionally, in earlier editions, some of the texts that were available were wrongly attributed to
certain partisans in the controversy. 14 As we will see, from time to time, this led modern authors to draw
incorrect conclusions about the positions taken by various partisans in the conflict, which in turn
The third factor that has influenced modern interpretations of the Palamite controversy is the
shape of modern theological and historical debate. Often enough, the Palamite controversy is told
11The literature for the history of the controversy up to 1972 is exhaustively documented in Daniel Stiernon, “Bulletin sur le
palamisme,” Revue des études byzantines 30 (1972): 231–336. More recent exhaustive bibliography can be found in Robert E.
Sinkewicz, “Gregory Palamas,” in La théologie byzantin et sa tradition II: XIIIe - XIXe siècles (Turnhout, 2002), 131–88. and Juan
Nadal Cañellas, “Gregorio Akindynos,” in La théologie byzantin et sa tradition II: XIIIe - XIXe Siècles (Turnhout, 2002), 189–314.
12This is not just a problem for modern narratives of the Palamite controversy. Most of the early histories of this period of Byz-
antine history come from the pens of people who were directly involved in the controversy. This includes the Byzantinae Historiae of
the anti-Palamite Nicephoros Gregoras (PG 148 and PG 149); the history of Emperor John VI Kantekuzenos (PG 153 and PG 154),
which he wrote as the monk Joasaph after his abdication; and the Palamite archbishop of Constantinople Philotheos Kokkinos (PG
154)
13The major work of Barlaam the Calabrian, Against the Messalians, was ordered to be destroyed in the summer of 1341; only
fragments survive as quoted in the works of his opponents (Robert E. Sinkewicz, “The Doctrine of the Knowledge of God in the
Early Writings of Barlaam the Calabrian,” Medieval Studies 44 [1982]: 182). Barlaam's anti-Latin treatises only received a critical
edition in 1998 (Barlaam the Calabrian, opere contro i Latini: Introduzione, storia dei testi edizione critica, traduzione e indici, ed.
Antonis Fyrigos, 2 vols., Studi e testi 347-8 [Città del Vaticano: Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, 1998]). The letters of Gregory
Akindynos (not all of which are extant) were only published in 1983 (Gregorios Akindynos, Letters of Gregory Akindynos: Greek
Text and English Translation, trans. Angela Constantinides Hero, Corpus Fontium Historiae Byzantiae. Series Washingtonensis 21
[Washington: Dumbarton Oaks Research Library and Collection, 1983]). A substantial statement of Akindynos' position in his own
words would not come until 1995. (Gregorios Akindynos, Refutationes duo operis Gregorii Palamae cui titulus Dialogus inter or-
thodoxum et barlaamitam, ed. Juan Nadal Cañellas, Corpus Christianorum Series Graeca 31 [Turnhout: Brepols, 1995]).
14For instance, Migne attributes the heavily Thomistic treatise De essentia et operatione Dei libri duo to Gregory Akindynos
(who had no access to the works of Aquinas), whereas it is actually a part of a longer work by the convinced Thomist, Prokoros Ky-
dones. (Giovanni Merciti, notizie di Procoro E Demetrio Cidone, Manuele Caleca E Teodoro Meliteniota ed altri appunti per la
storia della teologia e della letteratura bizantina del secolo XIV, Studi e testi 56 [Città del Vaticano: Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana,
1931, 1–31]).
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through the lens of concerns which are contemporary with the author who is doing the telling. The
contemporary concerns are variegated, but they fall into four broad categories: rationalism and anti-
rationalism in theology; the relationship between theology as a discipline and theology as a mystical
experience; the desirability (or undesirability) of ecumenism; and the dynamics of secularism together
with its proper remedies. These were all lively subjects of debate among Catholic theologians of the
twentieth century. For their part, Orthodox theologians and historians of the period sought both to
resolve conflicts that were internal to their own theological tradition and to shine “light from the East”
The modern histories of the Palamite controversy begin with the work of the French
Assumptionist, Martin Jugie (1878-1954). In his articles for the Dictionairre de théologie catholique
and his textbook summary of Orthodox theology,15 Jugie was stridently critical of both the achievement
of Gregory Palamas and the manner in which he and his disciples conducted themselves in the Palamite
controversy. Jugie saw the Palamites as using aggressive means to introduce an un-traditional form of
neo-Platonism into the heart of theology. In Jugie's judgment however, in the centuries after the
Palamite councils, the Orthodox Church had effectively shelved Palamite doctrines; they did not play
much of a role in Eastern Orthodox thought and life. Jugie's work set the tone for all future discussion
for both opponents and supporters of Palamas. The former largely repeated the charges of Jugie, while
the latter, despite their strong disagreements with Jugie, nevertheless relied on him for his historical
research.
While Martin Jugie was completing his work on Gregory Palamas, important developments
were taking place in Eastern Orthodox theology. In the late nineteenth and early twentieth century
speculative and idealistic style. With his book, The Ways of Russian Theology, Georges Florovsky
15 Martin Jugie, “‘Palamas, Grégoire’ and ‘Palamite, Controverse,’” in Dictionnaire de Théologie Catholique (Paris, 1932),
1738–1818; Martin Jugie, Theologia dogmatica christianorum orientalium ab Ecclesia dissidentium, vol. 2 (Paris, 1933).
10
(1893-1979) began a reaction against this type of theological reflection, and desired to develop a
theology more strictly rooted in the Greek Fathers and the Byzantine tradition. While Florovsky was
able to articulate his understanding of the situation and outline his own program for reform, he was
largely unable to carry it out. That project would be left to his disciples. The Communist revolution in
1917 ensured that this debate would take place among émigré Russian theologians in the West, where a
Florovsky's most famous disciple, Vladimir Lossky (1903-1958), made some of the first
contributions to this “neo-Patristic” program in Orthodox theology. In his work,16 Lossky presents the
Greek patristic tradition as having at its core a direct linear development from the Cappadocians,
through Pseudo-Dionysius and Maximus the Confessor, on to Symeon the New Theologian,
culminating in the work of Gregory Palamas, who in his mystical theology, sums up and synthesizes the
authentic spiritual and doctrinal traditions of the Christian East. Here we have a perspective that is quite
different from that of Martin Jugie. Palamas' distinction between God's essence and uncreated energies
is a necessary feature of any authentically Christian metaphysic, and it is just this distinction that allows
Eastern theology to have a dialectic of divine presence and absence that gives it its characteristic
mystical bent. The uncreated energies produce a real deification in the world in the strictest possible
ontological sense, while their real distinction from the divine essence provides the ground for an
apophatic approach to the latter—something absolutely essential for Lossky—where the divine essence
In Lossky's view, although Eastern theology takes doctrine seriously, nevertheless, it puts
doctrinal affirmations in the service of mystical experience. To his mind, this is different from what
happened in the West, which had become captivated to a rationalistic scholasticism, and had all too
often lost sight of the spiritual aspirations that are at the heart of Christianity. Consequently, Lossky
16Vladimir Lossky, The Mystical Theology of the Eastern Church, trans. Fellowship of St. Alban and St. Sergius (Crestwood,
NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2002); Vladimir Lossky, The Vision of God, trans. Asheleigh Moorhouse, 2nd ed. (Bedfordshire:
The Faith Press, 1973).
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cannot find a place for the anti-Palamites, Barlaam and Gregory Akindynos, in the theological landscape
of the Christian East. They could not be true inheritors of the thought of the Greek Fathers, especially of
Pseudo-Dionysius. For Lossky, Barlaam and Akindynos were influenced by Latin scholasticism. Thus,
on this reading, the Palamite controversy itself becomes a debate between Eastern and Western modes
of theologizing, and in granting the palm of victory to the Palamites, the Orthodox Church was taking a
fundamental option of mystical contemplation over scholastic rationalizing. It is unclear if the aside is
This template for the Palamite controversy would continue to have its exponents, right into the
twenty-first century. However, it would be subject to some modifications in what has become the
canonical account of the Palamite controversy—that of John Meyendorff (1926-1992). Since it has been
so influential, it will be worth the time to consider Meyendorff's perspective at some detail. Through his
prolific work in historical theology, Meyendorff played a prominent role in making Eastern theology
more widely known in the West. The Palamite controversy was his particular specialty. He was
responsible for producing the critical edition of the central work of Gregory Palamas, the Defense of the
Holy Hesychasts, also known, due to the style of its published form, as the Triads.17 He also published
what has become the standard history of the controversy, as well as a number of shorter studies.18
Given the nature of his work with primary sources, it is not surprising that Meyendorff largely
sees the Palamite controversy from Palamas' point of view. This leads Meyendorff more to assume,
rather than to prove, Gregory Palamas' version of events and his claim to represent the authentic
tradition of the Christian East. It also causes him to be rather dismissive of the points of view of
Barlaam and Akindynos. Unlike Lossky, Meyendorff does not see the conflict between Palamas and his
opponents as a conflict between “Eastern” and “Western” modes of theological discourse. Meyendorff
17John Meyendorff, Introduction à l’étude de Grégoire Palamas (Paris: Éditions du Seuil, 1959). English translation: John Mey-
endorff, A Study of Gregory Palamas, trans. George Lawrence (Crestwood: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1998).
18These are usefully collected in John Meyendorff, Byzantine Hesychasm: Historical, Theological, and Social Problems (Lon-
12
correctly notes that neither Barlaam nor Gregory Akindynos can be seen as representatives of Western
scholasticism.19 Rather, Meyendorff sees the debate between Palamas and his opponents as a conflict
The Eastern Empire was the heir to a dual tradition: that of the Greek Fathers and that of ancient
Greek culture. The fourteenth century had seen a growth in interest in the latter, and this inevitably
raised the question of the relationship of humanistic learning and Christian devotion. According to
Meyendorff, unlike the Latin Church, the Byzantine Church maintained a doctrinal conservatism that
limited the use of philosophy in theology to the fourth-century synthesis of the Greek Fathers. Between
the fourth and the fourteenth centuries, a monastic theology had developed in the East independently of
interest in Hellenistic learning, and was actually antagonistic toward it. The debate between Barlaam
and Akindynos, on the one hand, and Palamas, on the other, was an intra-Byzantine debate about two
different styles of theology. Barlaam thinks that God was radically unknowable in himself. However,
the authors of Scripture and the Fathers of the Church had a special inspiration. Our knowledge of God
is mediated through their texts. Therefore, knowledge of God comes through cultivating a scholarly
knowledge of these authorities. Moreover, when we look at these authorities, there are grounds for
accepting deviant Western doctrines (such as the filioque) at least as theologoumena. Thus for
Meyendorff, Barlaam was not a traditional scholastic, but a “nominalist” whose humanistic learning led
Union with the West was an important part of Meyendorff's approach to the Palamite
controversy. For Meyendorff, Palamas' synthesis was less about the philosophical technicalities of
essence and energies. Rather his theology represented a deep concern for authentic Christian values.
Palamas' theology was a “personalist” and “existential” mystical theology which was fully
19John Meyendorff, “Les débuts de la controverse hésychaste,” in Byzantine Hesychasm: Historical, Theological, and Social
cal, Theological, and Social Problems (London: Variorum Reprints, 1974), 47–64. See also
13
Christological, sacramental, and ecclesial. This is what the East, having adopted the Palamite synthesis,
brings to the ecumenical table. Union with the East lies in reckoning with the theology of Palamas, and
not in the crafty doctrinal compromises of Barlaam. When Palamas' achievement is read this way,
Meyendorff thinks, it should not be a point of friction with the West, but rather a point of union. The
West may get caught up in scholastic rationalism from time to time, and this may lead to doctrinal
disputes on various issues, such as the filioque. But in actuality, Palamas' central religious concerns are
also the central concerns of Western theology at its best.21 Meyendorff's watershed contributions to the
study of the Palamite controversy produced a greater appreciation for Palamas in the West. By re-
orienting the discussion towards Palamas' underlying religious motivations, Meyendorff was able to
bring about a substantial reduction in anti-Palamite sentiment among his Western contemporaries.22
Meyendorff's work has not been the last word on the controversy, however. The Palamite
controversy has continued in more recent literature in three different directions. First, some authors have
sought to continue to develop the approach of Vladimir Lossky—often with rather sharp polemics.
Second, some authors have sought to develop the critique of Palamism, along the lines of Martin Jugie:
it is Platonic, it is not traditional, and real deification does not require the essence-energies distinction.
Finally, some authors have sought, through a more careful reading of the works of Palamas' opponents,
to call for a revision of the terms in which Meyendorff has stated the Palamite controversy. All of these
In the first place, from the side of Eastern Orthodoxy, some authors continued to develop an
analysis of the situation along the lines of Lossky. Modern Greek writers, such as John Romanides, 23
21John Meyendorff, “Humanisme nominaliste et mystique chrétiene à byzance au XIVe siècle,” in Byzantine Hesychasm: His-
torical, Theological, and Social Problems (London: Variorum Reprints, 1974), 905–14.
22A good example of this more conciliatory tone comes from the Swiss Thomist Charles Journet, whose long review of Meyen-
dorff's Introduction is probably the best overview and introduction to the Palamite controversy from a Western and Thomist perspec-
tive. Charles Journet, “Palamisme et Thomisme, À propos d’un livre récent,” Revue Thomiste 60 (1960): 429–52. Some Western
theologians saw in accepting Meyendorff's explanation of the Palamite controversy an opportunity to correct what they saw as some
of the excesses of neo-Scholasticism. See, for example, the work of the Louvain Franciscan, André de Halleux, “Palamisme et sco-
lastique,” Revue Théologique de Louvain 4 (1973): 409–42.
23John Romanides, “Notes on the Palamite Controversy and Related Topics,” Greek Orthodox Theological Review 9 (April
1963): 225–70.
14
and Christos Yannaras24 have taken this line of writing to its polemical extreme.25 The most worthy
entry in this vein is David Bradshaw's book, Aristotle East and West.26 As the title of his book indicates,
Bradshaw highlights the philosophical importance of the essence-energies distinction. For him, this
distinction is a precious adoption from neo-Platonic reflection on Aristotelian metaphysics, which the
Greek Fathers used to describe how God can enter into a real synergy with His creatures. Augustine,
and the whole western tradition that followed him, never really incorporated this reflection, instead
opting for the absolute simplicity of the Godhead, a doctrine which, in Bradshaw's view, makes it
difficult to explain how God can enter into a real synergy with his creatures. Thomas Aquinas had
access to more neo-Platonic sources, but he was never really able to extricate himself from the
Procrustean bed of Augustinianism, and this inevitably led to the spiritual cul de sac of secularism.
Secondly, coming from the opposite direction, some writers continued to develop a critical
position, similar to the one first staked out by Martin Jugie. In his lengthy study of the influence of Plato
on Christian thought,27 The patristics scholar Endre von Ivánka takes a somewhat critical view of
Palamas' position, and responds to the claims of the earlier neo-Palamites, such as Vladimir Lossky.28
Ivánka would like us to distinguish between hesychasm and Palamism. According to Ivánka, the
spiritual inspiration for hesychasm comes from the Siniatic tradition (e.g. John Klimakos), and
especially Symeon the New Theologian. Hesychasm, however, is a new development, inasmuch as it
24Christos Yannaras, “Orthodoxy and the West,” Eastern Churches Review 3 (1971): 286–300; Christos Yannaras, “The Distinc-
tion between Essence and Energies and Its Importance for Theology,” St. Vladimir’s Theological Quarterly 19 (1975): 232–45.
25Perhaps the most serious criticism of this position—apart from its serious misconstruals of the Western authors it critiques--is
the discovery of just how much the reviled Augustine of Hippo actually shaped the thought of Gregory Palamas, and the discovery of
how later Palamites modified their understanding of Palamism in the light of Thomistic critique. We will have more to say about
Byzantine Thomists, of course. But for more information about the influence of Augustine of Hippo on Palamas, see Reinhard
Flogaus, “Palamas and Barlaam Revisited: A Reassessment of East and West in the Hesychast Controversy of 14th Century Byzanti-
um,” St. Vladimir’s Theological Quarterly 42 (1988): 1–32; R. Flogaus, “Inspiration—Exploitation—Distortion: The Use of St. Au-
gustine in the Hesychast Controversy,” in Orthodox Readings of Augustine (New York, 2008), 63–80.
26David Bradshaw, Aristotle East and West: Metaphysics and the Divisions of Christendom (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 2004).
27Endre von Ivánka, Plato Christianus: Übernahme und Umgestaltung des Platonismus durch die Väter (Einsiedeln: Johannes
Verlag, 1964).
28Ivánka was writing after Meyendorff had completed his major works, but he did not engage with Meyendorff.
15
divine light—like what was experienced at Tabor. Ivánka flirts with the rather unhelpful suggestion that
Palamism, for Ivánka (and here is one of the ways that he differs from Meyendorff), is a
became the official metaphysics of hesychasm after the definitive pro-Palamite settlement in the
Orthodox Church in 1351. Palamas' principal concern was to explain how a person could have a real
participation in God without actually becoming the divine essence. The doctrine of uncreated energies
makes this possible. The energies are the various modes of participation in God, which are prior to the
existence of the participant. Ivánka sees in this scheme a recrudescence of neo-Platonism. The
fundamental problem for Platonists is the passage from the one ultimate reality to the plurality of
existents. What marks a system as Platonic is its need to posit a really existing middle sphere between
the one and the many—in our case, the Uncreated and the created—in order to account for the passage
from the former to the latter. This is the direction in which Gregory's thought tended, though he never
For Ivánka, if the Palamite position represented a renewal of Platonism in the service of
defending the doctrine of participation in God, then the anti-Palamite position represents a growth in
appreciation for Aristotelian logic. Indeed, Ivánka shows that many of the anti-Palamites had an
exuberant faith in the power of dialectic, and it was this that caused them to object to Palamism in the
name of absolute divine simplicity. What we have here is a conflict between two traditions that were
current in the Byzantine Empire in the fourteenth century. The Palamite tradition was popular, monastic,
Platonic, and concerned with the doctrine of participation in God. The anti-Palamite tradition was
intellectual, cultured, urban, Aristotelian, and concerned with the doctrine of divine simplicity.
On this reading, during the time of Palamas, there was still a possibility of coming up with a
synthesis of these two traditions. This was not unlike the parallel situation which obtained in the West in
the 12th and 13th centuries, as it tried to incorporate Aristotelian philosophy into theology. After all, it is
16
not hard to find Western authors of the High Middle Ages whose polemic against the use of dialectic in
theology is every bit as harsh as anything that came from Gregory Palamas. Nevertheless, voices for
synthesis were few and far between in the Greek world of the fourteenth century. At least a part of the
problem lay in the tone-deafness of the anti-Palamite party with respect to spiritual matters. Even when
the anti-Palamites did not engage in the outright mockery of Hesychasm, they never showed much of a
concern for mystical prayer. Since they never really took the time to show how their doctrines were
compatible with the real participation by grace in the divine life, they made the Palamite position seem
inevitable for all of those who were concerned with matters of the spirit. With the fall of the Empire,
and the subsequent migration of many of the more cultured of its citizens to the West, the hegemony of
the Palamite position, together with its anti-rationalist tendencies, was secured in the Orthodox Church
If Palamas was not interested in philosophical dialectic, then how did he justify his metaphysics,
which Ivánka claimed were the centerpiece of the Palamite position? Palamas does not really rely on
philosophical argumentation. As we have seen, the first part of his defense was by appealing to religious
necessity: authentic Christian mystical prayer requires that we posit an extra-mental distinction between
God's imparticipable essence and his uncreated energies. The second part of his defense was by an
appeal to the Fathers of the Church. Ivánka does not find Palamas' appeal to the Fathers persuasive at
all. Passages that sound favorable to Palamas are not so in reality, when they are considered in their full
context, or when they are read alongside other statements of the same author.
Thus, for Ivánka, the historical position of Gregory Palamas represents something of a departure
from the tradition of the Greek Fathers. Paradoxically, claims Ivánka, Palamas himself is more
kataphatic than the earlier Greek tradition. The earlier tradition stressed the inadequacy of human
concepts before God, whereas with his distinction of essence and energies, Palamas had somewhat
simplistically assumed that our modes of conceptualizing God and his activities had corresponding
extra-mental referents. Modern Orthodox re-interpreters of Palamas (here Ivánka has in mind people
like Vladimir Lossky) do not make the same mistake, however. They are careful to read Palamas in the
17
light of the apophaticism of the preceding Greek patristic tradition. They also tend to re-interpret
emphasizing rather the underlying experience that the distinction is meant to guard: the radical
antinomy of God's immanence and transcendence. But these neo-Palamites are wrong to oppose a
rationalist and kataphatic West with a mystical and apophatic East. In fact, according to Ivánka, an
Christianity.
Ivánka thus presents us with an analysis of the Palamite controversy from a point of view which
is critical of both Palamas and the polemics of his modern-day disciples, but without espousing the
point of view of the anti-Palamites. Like Meyendorff, he recognizes that the original Palamite
controversy was not (at least originally) a controversy between East and West, but rather a controversy
within the Byzantine world itself. However, unlike Meyendorff, he does not frame the conflict quite in
terms of humanism and monasticism, but rather in terms of an Aristotelianism and Platonism that were
unable to be reconciled, because of the mutual mistrust of their respective exponents. The anti-Palamites
did not have to ignore mystical prayer, and the Palamites did not have to denigrate dialectic. But they
did. Also, unlike Meyendorff, Ivánka is less willing to concede that the Palamite party has the exclusive
right to represent the Eastern Christian tradition. In fact, he is skeptical that the prayer method of
hesychasm and the metaphysical distinction of Palamism are as grounded in the tradition as their
exponents claim. Finally, Ivánka wants to take Palamas' ideas seriously as philosophy (despite their
proponents' disavowals of secular learning), and question their value—and the difficulties they
A concern similar to that of Ivánka was expressed by the editors of the ecumenical journal
Istina, published by a group of French Dominicans, when they devoted a part of their Spring 1974 issue
to a set of critical responses to the neo-Palamite revival.29 The editors of the symposium blame Martin
29Jean-Philippe Houdret, “Palamas et les cappadociens,” Istina 19 (1974): 260–71; J.-M. Garrigues, “L’energie divine et la grâce
18
Jugie for the revival. As Jugie himself had noted, Palamism had not been an active force in Orthodoxy
for several centuries before his time. Had Jugie “let sleeping dogs lie,” there would not have been such a
strong neo-Palamite revival. What the twentieth-century neo-Palamite revival has done, however, is to
re-center Orthodox theology in a way that matches and responds to the neo-Scholastic re-centering that
occurred in Catholic theology in the early twentieth Century—as Catholics had turned to scholasticism,
so would Orthodoxy turn to a more patristic theology, a theology to which Palamas has given the
definitive synthesis. But, like Ivánka, the editors wonder whether Palamas' thought is entirely
traditional, and whether the doctrine of our real deification requires Palamas' distinction between the
essence and the energies. The editors also have a concern for contemporary Catholic theology. Catholic
theologians who are dissatisfied with neo-scholasticism might take the claims of the neo-Palamites at
face value, in order to argue for changes in the style and content of Catholic theology. 30 The editors,
then, want to raise critical questions about the nature of the Palamite synthesis, in the hope that Catholic
authors will regard it with extreme circumspection. After all, Palamas himself would not have
While some authors have continued to carry on arguments about the nature of Palamism itself,
the last group of authors to respond to Meyendorff have explicitly questioned and attempted to revise
his historical narrative. This often involves taking a less sympathetic look at the achievement of
Gregory Palamas and the monks in his circle. This is the approach taken by Lowell Clucas. 32 Clucas
writes from the perspective of Byzantine studies, and so he is especially concerned to examine the
social context against which Palamism developed, and to consider its ultimate significance for
chez Maxime le confesseur,” Istina 19 (1974): 272–96; Juan Sergio Nadal, “La critique par Akindynos de l’herméneutique pa-
tristique de Palamas,” Istina 3 (1974): 297–328; M.-J. Le Guillou, “Lumière et charité dans la doctrine palamite de la divinisation,”
Istina 19 (1974): 329–38.A critical response to this symposium—questioning some of the claims of the authors, as well as its ecu-
menical usefulness--was given by André de Halleux in “Palamisme et tradition,” Irénikon 4 (1975): 479–93.
30Rowan Williams has expressed similar concerns. “The Philosophical Structures of Palamism,” Eastern Churches Review 9
(1977): 27–44.
31“Grégoire Palamas” Istina 19 (1974): 257-9.
32Lowell Clucas, “The Hesychast Controversy in Byzantium in the Fourteenth C.: A Consideration of the Basic Evidence”
19
Byzantine culture. Under both of these aspects, Clucas has little positive to say either about Palamas or
the larger Hesycahst movement. The Athonite monks led a monastic movement that de-emphasized the
cenobitic, sacramental, and ascetic aspects of Eastern monasticism, and emphasized its eremetic,
experiential, and mystical aspects (pace Meyendorff). At the same time, the monks were securing for
themselves independence from civil and episcopal oversight. The apogee of monastic power came with
the publication of the Hagioretic Tome, authored by Palamas, which formally anathematized opponents
of hesychasm—a task that should be reserved for bishops. This “charismatic” presentation of Athonite
monasticism leads Clucas to compare the hesychasts of fourteenth-century Byzantium to the disciples of
Joachim of Fiore in the West, claiming that the Athonites saw themselves as the vanguard of a new age
of revelation, based on their mystical experience of God's energies, induced through the technique of
Hesychastic prayer.
John Kantakuzenos saw the vast influence of the monks as useful in his own struggles against
the Patriarch John Kalekas. It was the alliance between John VI and the monks that gave Palamism the
palm of victory. Kantakuzenos was not an ideologically convinced Palamite during the time of the Civil
War, or during his reign as emperor. The historical and theological works that he wrote after his
Clucas sees Palamas as something of a “charismatic” figure. His works are something of a
testimony to a personal experience, expressed in an apologetic and polemical form. Palamas' personal
experience is the criterion for his metaphysics and his reading of the tradition, and it is the grounds for
his claims to be an authoritative teacher of Christian truth (as opposed to episcopal consecration, for
instance). This means that Palamas reads the tradition selectively, in order to support his own position—
providing partial quotations of patristic texts, for instance, stopping the quotation short just when it says
something that would contradict Palamas' own position. Moreover, Palamas advances his theory about
the uncreated light of Tabor by equivocating on two senses of divine energy. In one sense, (Clucas calls
it the “Aristotelian” sense), God's energy is the medium by which He acts in the world in creation and
20
deification. In another sense God's energies are basically a Christianized version of the Platonic ideas.
They are something which we perceive in a transformative sensitive-noetic act. Palamas uses statements
and metaphysical claims about God's energy in the first sense, to justify his theories about God's
energies in the second sense. Palamas thought he had to defend the notion of God's energies in the
second sense because he was a hyper-realist. The things that he knew of God through experience (the
Taboric light) had to have an extra-mental referent that was distinct from the divine essence, which was
unknowable. And these “energies” which emerged from the essence, Palamas thus conflated with the
energy that emerges from God as the medium of his action in the world. Palamas, thus, represents the
triumph of Christian Platonism. In fact, in both the style of monasticism that he promoted and in the
metaphysical system by which he supported it, he shows himself to be somewhat Origenistic and
Evagrian.
For Clucas, the triumph of Hesychasm and Palamism is really something of a tragedy. Its deep-
down problem lies in its deep suspicion of human reason and science. These later accounted for the
cultural ascendency of the West at this time, and their lack in the Greek world was a significant reason
for its concomitant decline. Even in theology, the Latins were busy penetrating to the meaning of the
Fathers, while the Greeks simply quoted their words back and forth in, what Demetrios Kydones called,
diatribes masquerading as theology. In Clucas judgment, the Byzantines made a poor trade-off: they
chose an often dubious form of mysticism over a form of human reason with real cultural power. Since
Clucas is more of a Byzantinist than a theologian, some of his religious judgments may be a bit
hyperbolic and polemical, nevertheless he makes a useful distinction between the two ways that God's
energy (or energies) is spoken of, and he helps to balance out our historical understanding of the
Palamite controversy by telling this story in a light that is more sympathetic to the anti-Palamites and
More recently, as the works of the anti-Palamites have been edited and studied, a new
perspective has been emerging. Scholars are beginning to develop a new narrative that moves beyond
21
the ways that Jugie, Lossky, and Meyendorff have framed the issue. Like Clucas, they have considered
the positions of the anti-Palamites more sympathetically. This generation of historical scholarship tends,
to varying degrees, to be more critical of Palamas. Some still generally support his position, while
others oppose it. The common factor in this newer trend of historical scholarship is a renewed attention
This school of thought began with the work of Robert Sinkewicz. Sinkewicz is responsible for
producing a critical edition of Palamas' late work, The One Hundred and Fifty Chapters, which is a
concise summary of Palamas' whole system.33 Sinkewicz has focused his attention on the very
beginnings of the Palamite controversy, when Palamas met Barlaam.34 Since we will be following
Sinkewicz's version of events in our narration of the conflict between Barlaam and Palamas below, here
we will simply say that the debate between Barlaam and Palamas began with a debate about what it
means to have knowledge of God. At the very beginning of the controversy, it must be said that Barlaam
was not being untraditional, and Palamas did not acquit himself entirely admirably in dealing with
Barlaams' thought—he condemned Barlaam based on limited information, and he was perhaps willfully
ignorant. As the conflict escalated, however, both men became more hardened and extreme in their
positions. Eventually, Barlaam showed that his doctrine of God was unorthodox, and those aspects of
A similar rehabilitation of Gregory Akindynos is due to the lifelong work of the Jesuit scholar
Juan Nadal-Cañellas. He has produced critical editions and lengthy studies of the works of Gregory
33Gregory Palamas, The One Hundred and Fifty Chapters, ed. and trans. Robert E. Sinkewicz (Toronto: Pontifical Institute of
22
Akindynos.35 Akindynos produced lengthy refutations of Palamas' polemical works during the period of
the civil war, as well as a first-hand account of his involvement in the Palamite controversy. In the work
of Nadal-Cañellas, who always cites a rich variety of primary sources, Akindynos emerges as a man of
both culture and prayer, who was (relatively) gracious and moderate in his criticisms, with a keen
intellect and an interest in maintaining the traditional orthodox theology in the face of what he saw as
Palamite innovations. Because of Nadal-Cañellas, neither the historical testimony nor the theological
output of Gregory Akindynos can be simply dismissed any longer; any future re-telling of the
Finally, more and more attention is being turned to the internal evolution of the Palamite
position itself. John Meyendorff had portrayed the Palamite school as monolithic. The teachings of
Palamas were the final word, and all further Palamites followed suit.36 This, too, has been questioned.
Several scholars have directed our attention to the subtle modifications of Palamite thought that were
made as the position encountered critique. In particular, Palamas' disciples might have conceded to the
anti-Palamites that the distinction between God's essence and energies was not extra-mental in the way
that Palamas himself thought that it was. This is what Endre von Ivánka claimed about twentieth-
century neo-Palamites. Maybe it was also true of the fourteenth- and fifteenth-century disciples of
Palamas as well.37 The authors who have been advancing this view show that the final Palamite council
of 1351, and even Palamas canonization in 1368 did not completely settle the matter about Palamism.
Moreover, this was due to increased theological interaction with the West, and Thomism in particular.
For these authors, this period of interaction between East and West indicates the possibility to make
meaningful ecumenical progress today on an issue that has become one of the major doctrinal disputes
35Juan Sergio Nadal, “La Critique par Akindynos de L’herméneutique patristique de Palamas,” Istina 3 (1974): 297–328; Cañel-
las, “Gregorio Akindynos”; Juan Nadal Cañellas, La résistance d’Akindynos à Grégoire Palamas: enquête historique, avec traduc-
tion et commentaire de quatre traités edités récemment., vol. 50–1, 2 vols. Spicilegium Sacrum Louvaniense Études et Documents
(Leuven: Peeters, 2006).
36Meyendorff, A Study of Gregory Palamas, 227.
37John A. Demetracopoulos, “Palamas Transformed. Palamite Interpreations of the Distinction between God’s ‘Essence’ and
‘Energies’ in Late Byzantium,” in Greeks, Latins, and Intellectual History 1204-1500, ed. Martin Hinterberger and Christ Schabel,
vol. 11, Recherches de Théologie et Philosophie Médiévales, Bibliotheca (Leuven: Peeters, 2011), 263–4, 369–72.
23
clouding East-West relations.38
As this review of the different interpretations of the Palamite controversy shows, the historical
dispute involved several parties and many issues, and the same partisans do not always fall on the same
side on every issue. The controversy defies characterization by simplistic pairs of binary opposites.
Moreover, as we have seen, on top of this historical debate, there rests another debate: one about the
style that contemporary theology should have. The Palamite controversy has served as something of a
With this in mind, a word should be said about the fundamental options taken in this study. We
will generally follow the historical outline provided by Sinkewicz, Nadal-Cañellas, and Clucas. John
Meyendorff presents a version of the history that is quite different, one that, in our judgment, is older
and not as well-sourced. Thus, while we will make reference to it, we will not follow its basic
orientation.39 Like the clear majority of historians of the controversy, we think that the Palamite
controversy was initially a conflict within Byzantine intellectual and spiritual culture, which only later
became a conflict between “Eastern” (i.e. Byzantine Palamite) and “Western” (i.e. Byzantine anti-
Palamite, more or less influenced by Thomism) factions. We should accept the basic sincerity of each of
the parties in the conflict, without idealizing them. A certain amount of escalation occurred because of
Gregory Palamas was born around the year 1296 into a pious, senatorial family in
38Antoine Lévy, “Lost in Translatio? Diakrisis Kat’Epinoian as Main Issue in the Discussions Between Fourteenth-Century Pal-
24
Constantinople. Under the patronage of Andronicus II, Gregory received a classical education in
grammar, logic, and rhetoric, perhaps in preparation for a career in the civil service. Gregory did not,
natural philosophy.40 Inspired by the example of monks visiting the capital, Gregory left for Mount
Athos around 1314, at about the age of eighteen. After living under the direction of a spiritual father and
spending time at the monastery of the Great Laura, he became a hermit in 1320. He was ordained to the
priesthood around 1322 in Thessalonica, having fled there after a Turkish invasion of Athos. In 1331,
Gregory returned to Mount Athos, living the eremitical life at St. Sabas, a dependency of the Great
Laura. It was here that he would hear troubling news concerning theological discussions with the Latins.
This would begin the chain of events which would come to be known as the Palamite Controversy.
Crusade, and the foundation subsequent Latin empire of Constantinople had brought a number of
Catholic religious to the imperial city. The general chapter of the Dominican Order, held at Paris in
1228, created two missionary provinces—that of Greece and the Holy Land, and by 1233 they had
established a priory in Constantinople. After the re-conquest of Constantinople, the Dominicans re-
established their ministry at the Genoese quarter in Pera, a suburb across the Golden Horn from
Constantinople. In 1300, the Order organized its oriental missions into a group known as “The
Company of Friars Pilgrims.” The Company would follow Genovese trading routes east, reaching
Moldavia, Ukraine, Crimea, Georgia, Armenia, and even Persia, and was based at Pera.41
In the spring of 1333, two Dominican friars, Francesco de Camerino and Richard of England
40In his One Hundred and Fifty Chapters, (1-25), Palamas shows some knowledge of Aristotelian natural philosophy (though he
does not accept all of it). As we will see in the next section, he showed some knowledge of Aristotelian logic, but the import of logi-
cal discussions could, at times, elude him. Gregory's knowledge
41This whole story is fascinating, and deserves to be better known. The basic research has been done by Claudine Delacroix-
Besnier, Les dominicains et la chrétienté grecque aux XIVe et XVe siècles (Rome: École française de Rome, 1997).
25
came to Avignon to obtain the foundation of two new missionary bishoprics. On their way to Avignon
from the Crimea, Francesco and Richard naturally stopped at the Dominican convent in Pera. There
they detected a new interest in union among the Greeks. Andronikos II had dissolved the once-mighty
Byzantine navy, leaving the Empire vulnerable to Turkish attacks. Andronikos III became more friendly
to the West, marrying Anne of Savoy. Having consecrated them bishops, John XXII sent them with
letters to Constantinople, to seek the union of the churches on August 4, 1333. In February 1334, John
Kalakas became the patriarch of Constantinople, and in the winter of 1334 Francesco and Richard
presented themselves to him, the Emperor being away on business. Along with letters from the Pope,
they presented a theological treatise which argued in favor of the filioque using arguments from St.
Thomas Aquinas.42 This was, in all likelihood, the first exposure that the Angelic Doctor had in the East.
Unlike the Latin party, however, the Byzantine party was not interested in renewed theological
discussion. Acceptance of the filioque was not on the table. The task of making the response to the
Dominican bishops fell to a monk from Calabria in southern Italy named Barlaam.43
We do not know very much about Barlaam's early life. He was born about 1290 in southern Italy
to a family of Orthodox lineage. He was probably educated in an Orthodox monastery in southern Italy.
The sporadic attempts made to enforce the Roman Rite in the region increased in the 1320s, causing
Barlaam to seek refuge (and to continue to studies) in Thessalonika around 1326, and in Constantinople,
around 1330.44 Though his enemies tried to label him as a crypto-Latin, even Palamas acknowledges, in
the early stage of their conflict, that Barlaam headed East “for love of true piety.” There is no reason to
suppose that he had any particular knowledge of Latin philosophy or theology. 45 Barlaam's obvious
42Sinkewicz argues that the two Dominican bishops might have been working off of St. Thomas' Contra Errores Graecorum.
“Conversion from Greek Orthodoxy 124; Michael Angold, “Byzantium And the West,” 54.
45Meyendorff, “Les Débuts de La Controverse Hésychaste,” 90–3. Sinkewicz agrees: “ A careful reading of the Antilatin Trea-
tises leaves little doubt that Barlaam's acquaintance with the works and the theology of Thomas Aquinas was minimal and restricted
entirely to what was provided for him by his Latin (and Dominican) opponents” (“The Doctrine of the Knowledge of God,” 195n6.
26
intellectual gifts attracted the attention of the Great Domestic, John Kantakuzenos. Under his patronage,
offering lectures on theological topics, especially on Dionysius the Areopagite, of whom he was
especially fond.46 It is through this connection that he was chosen to respond to the Dominican bishops
Barlaam47 made his response in early 1335 (before May), in two addresses. 48 Gregory Palamas
apparently received an oral report of these discussions. From the reports that he received, Palamas got
the impression that Barlaam had defended the Latin view, at least as a theologoumenon. In reality,
Barlaam had done no such thing; he had only assumed the Latin position hypothetically, in order to raise
objections against it. Nevertheless, disturbed at the outcome of the discussions, Palamas wrote what he
called Apodictic Treatises in late 1335,49 in order to defend Orthodoxy. Gregory Akindynos, a mutual
acquaintance of both men praised the work (in a letter no longer extant), but gently rebuked Palamas
for using the term “apodictic” in the title, as Palamas' arguments did not really meet the standard of
demonstration.
At about the same time, Barlaam was busy fleshing out his own objections against the Latin
position in a series of 21 Anti-Latin Treatises. The filioque is one of the prominent themes of these
treatises, and he addresses it in two ways. First, he does something traditional: he uses and extremely
rich collection of scriptural and patristic citations.50 Second, he does something innovative. In his Anti-
Latin Treatise 5, he gives a critique of the use of rational arguments in the argument as such. Apodictic
46Meyendorff, “Les Débuts de La Controverse Hésychaste,” 94–5; Nicol, The Last Centuries of Byzantium, 211–3; Kolbaba,
“Conversion from Greek Orthodoxy,” 124.
47The chronology here is that given in Sinkewicz, “The Doctrine of the Knowledge of God in the Early Writings of Barlaam the
Calabrian,” 184–6. Sinkewicz is correcting the chronology and interpretation of Meyendorff, “Les Débuts de La Controverse Hésy-
chaste.” Sinkewicz gives a full justification of his approach in “A New Interpretation”
48Sinkewicz, “A New Interpretation” 490–4.
49According to Juan Nadal-Cañellas, this version is actually a second edition of a work that Palamas had originally composed in
27
argument was not valid in theology, and any pretended demonstration will exhibit a logical fallacy, as
On Pentecost Sunday, May 19, 1336, Gregory Palamas received a portion of Barlaam's Anti-
Latin Treatise 5, but none of the Treatises which contain Barlaam's patristic dossier. He found these
arguments to be quite disconcerting, but he never really seems to understand Barlaam's position.
Nevertheless goes on to attempt a refutation of it with confidence, never quite making an objection that
is ad rem.52 At the heart of the confusion lies a twofold ambiguity. In the term “demonstration” and the
term “knowledge.” Palamas takes each of these in a broad sense: demonstration means certainty, and
knowledge means an intuitive grasp. But Barlaam meant them in a more technical, Aristotelian sense.
Demonstration, for Barlaam, means valid syllogistic reasoning, and knowledge means assent to a true
proposition. Actually, both Barlaam and Palamas were interested in establishing certain knowledge of
God. Barlaam tried to point out that they were in fundamental agreement. What made Palamas nervous
about Barlaam was that he seemed to use Aristotle more than the Fathers. It also did not help that
Barlaam had something of a reputation for being arrogant himself. 53 Thus, it is not surprising that their
Interestingly enough, it is in this context that Palamas first makes a pasing reference to what
would become his famous distinction between the Divine essence and its uncreated energies. Palamas
wanted to maintain the possibility of knowledge of God and demonstration of divine realities (in his
senses of those terms), but he still had to reckon with Scriptural affirmations that we cannot see God.
51As Barlaam himself wrote in his first epistle to Gregory Palamas: “When I saw that it was impossible to examine and refute
each syllogism proposed by the Latins--for the verbiage would become endless--I considered how it might be possible to refute them
all (and prove them to be sophisms) in a single treatise” Sinkewicz, “The Doctrine of the Knowledge of God,” 190–4.
52Ibid., 197–8, 202–4. “However, in order to establish his position, Palamas chose his texts very selectively and read them in a
literal and superficial matter. The letter raises serious doubts about whether Palamas had really understood Barlaam or even Aristotle,
for the Athonite took certain liberties in his use of Aristotelian terminology which did not necessarily support his cause or further his
true intentions.” (200-1)
53See for example Letters 9 and 10 of Gregory Akindynos. Letters of Gregory Akindynos: Greek Text and English Translation,
trans. Angela Constantinides Hero, Corpus Fontium Historiae Byzantiae. Series Washingtonensis 21 (Washington: Dumbarton Oaks
Research Library and Collection, 1983). In Letter 10, writing to Barlaam, Akindynos, who was friends to both Palamas and Barlaam
and acted as a go-between for them for some time, reproached both of them for their attitudes. Part of his reproach to Barlaam con-
cerned his understanding of knowledge and belief. Akindynos, who defended monastic practice while criticizing Palamite doctrine,
told Barlaam that true faith was a real, lived experience.
28
His response, which he gives in his second letter to Barlaam at the beginning of 1337, is to say that
The reason why Palamas wanted to defend his understanding of the knowledge of God is
because he was a part of the revival of hesychastic spirituality which took place on Mount Athos and
spread to other locations. While Barlaam was reading this in his correspondence with Palamas, he was
beginning to hear reports about the psychosomatic method of prayer that monks would use in order to
have the sort of experiential encounter of which Palamas wrote. Deciding to make inquiries about this
practice of prayer in the circle of hesychasts which consisted of members of prominent families in
Thessalonika, and which was led by the monk Ignatios. Alarmed at what he discovered, he confronted
Ignatios directly.55 Barlaam famously ridiculed its practitioners as ὀμφαλόψυχοι (roughly, “navel-
gazers”). Finally, he lodged a formal complaint with the standing synod in Constantinople in 1337. At
To an extent, Barlaam's concerns were justified. Sometime between the years 1332 and 1334,
there seems to have been a Macarian revival on Mount Athos, a revival which had an extreme
“Messalian” component. Members of this movement allegedly circulated their doctrines and practices
clandestinely at Athos, and Palamas is reported to have drawn some of his ideas from this circle. 57 This
29
circle tended to give a central role to people such as Pseudo-Makarios, John Klimakos, and Symeon the
New Theologian. The people who we more commonly call “fathers of the Church” (for example, the
Cappadocians and Maximus the Confessor) played a less central role in their thought. To the extent that
these latter were used, according to critics of the hesychasts both then and now, they were cited partially
and taken out of context. Gregory Palamas will begin to cite more from the more “classical” fathers of
the Church later on, when he is forced by his opponents to defend the traditional character of his
teaching.
Some of the people involved in this movement were close associates of Palamas who soon
became influential spiritual teachers in Thessalonika. This fact shows two an important features of the
monasticism of this period: it was growing in influence in both church and society, and it saw itself as
having a mission to society as a whole. Thus, when Barlaam encountered hesychast practioners, he
This is not to say, however, that Barlaam's own approach to the spiritual life was entirely sound.
Barlaam proposed an ascetical doctrine that stressed moral purification through detachment from the
body, and an intellectual purification through an ascent from creatures to a purely negative knowledge
(in the philosophical sense) of the Creator. This program did have a basis in the tradition. It could
appeal to the tradition of “natural contemplation” (θεορία φυσική) as a stage of spiritual progress. It
could also appeal to the writings of Pseudo-Dionysius. But, at least in the way that it has come down to
us, there is nothing in this scheme that is specifically Christian. Rather, it is a highly rarefied spirituality
designed to appeal to an intellectual. It is missing the corporeal, experiential, and ecstatic elements that
And Barlaam's arrogant disdain for the enthusiasm of the monks, combined with his favorable
descriptions of pagan philosophers as having experienced some kind of divine illumination, only made
matters worse. His approach needed correction, but perhaps there were certain excesses in the Palamite
30
response.
By the end of 1337, coincident with a Messalian crackdown on the Holy Mountain, Palamas had
made his way to Thessalonika, where he moved in circles the have been described as Messalian.59
Palamas used this time to respond to Barlaam's attacks on Hesychasm more directly. In 1338, he wrote
his First Triad in Defense of the Holy Hesychasts. This treatise is so-named because it falls into three
parts: a discussion of the limits of profane philosophy, a defense of the psychosomatic method of prayer
used by the hesychasts, and a description of the spiritual perception needed in order to have a true
knowledge of God. At this point, Palamas showed little direct knowledge of Barlaam's critiques of the
hesychasts. By the end of the year, Barlaam had responded. In 1339, due to a revival of the Turkish
threat, Barlaam was sent by Andronikos III and John Kantakuzenos on a diplomatic mission to the West,
visiting Naples, Paris, and Avignon. While he was away, Palamas made another response, his Second
Triad in Defense of the Holy Hesychasts, which followed the same format as the First Triad, but this
The spirituality of the monks whom Palamas was defending had two characteristics which drew
Barlaam's scrutiny: it downplayed the role of human learning and intellectual purification in spiritual
growth, and it highlighted the necessity of the body's participation in the deification of the whole
person. This latter feature often took the form, according to the reports of the monks, of sensible visions
of light. These reports, along with the techniques used to induce them, alarmed Barlaam, because—
among other reasons—it sounded like the monks were claiming to see the divine essence with their
bodily eyes. This led to Palamas' first attempts to correlate the sensible experiences of the monks at
They know that the essence of God is unreachable by every sense, since it is not only
God who is beyond all beings, but beyond-God (ὑπέρθεος) is as well. The Preeminent-
Beyond-All (ἡ ὑπεροχὴ τοῦ πάντων ἐπέκεινα) is not only beyond every affirmation, but,
59Meyendorff, always interpreting Palamas and his party favorably does not think so. But Nadal-Cañellas, citing more evidence
does. (Meyendorff, A Study of Gregory Palamas, 35–7; Nadal Cañellas, “Gregorio Akindynos,” 132–3.
60Nadal Cañellas, La Résistance, 141–144; Sinkewicz, “Gregory Palamas,” 133.
31
beyond every negation, he has also exceeded every preeminence whatsoever which has
come into being in the mind. The saints see the enhypostatized light spiritually, as they
themselves say, a light which is not symbolic, as are the apparitions formed by
accidental circumstances. Through experience itself, they know that it is an immaterial
and divine illumination and grace, invisibly visible and unknowingly known. But what it
is, they profess not to know.
But you who introduced the methods of definition, analysis, and distinction, come to
know, and deem us the ignorant worthy to teach. For [the light] is not the essence of
God, for the latter is both inaccessible and imparticipable. It is not an angel, for it bears
the marks of the Master, and sometimes it goes out from the body—or it is not borne up
to the unspoken heights without a body—and at other times it transforms the body and
gives it a share of its own proper splendor . . . In this way, therefore, it also deifies
(θεουργῆσαν) the body, becoming visible—O the miracle—to bodily eyes.61
It is in texts like this that we see the motivations behind Palamas' distinction between God's
essence and energies. He began with the fact of the experience of the hesychast monks. But their
experience contained a theological problem: if “no one has ever seen God” (1 John 4:12; cf. John 1:18),
then just what were they seeing? Barlaam interpreted them as claiming to have seen the divine essence,
and was appalled. Palamas adamantly denied this, and so was forced to claim that this light was not
identical with the divine essence,62 but still bore the deifying “marks of the Master.” The distinction that
Palamas makes here in the second round of controversy with Barlaam mirrors and develops the
distinction that he made in the first round of controversy concerning the knowledge of God. There,
Palamas defended the unknowability of the divine essence by distinguishing it from the “things around
God,” of which we may have knowledge. Notice that at this point, Palamas has not yet phrased his
distinction in terms of God's essence and energies. When it came time for him to re-formulate his
distinction in terms of essence and energies, these earlier uses were in the back of his mind.63
tion between the divine essence and uncreated, corporeal light, a distinction which was made as a defense of his friends and their
way of life. This experience of light has some precedents in the spiritual tradition. On the other hand, it is a distinction between the
divine essence and energies, a distinction which belongs in the realm of speculative theology and philosophy, and as such the term
“energy” has philosophical and Patristic antecedents. The first framing of the distinction tends toward making it a full-bodied real
distinction, whereas the second distinction tends toward muting the extra-mental character of the distinction. This contrast was noted
by Palamas' Dominican critic and convert from Orthodoxy, Manuel Kalekas in the early 15 th century, where he points out that Pala-
mas makes many seemingly real distinctions in God, but also denies composition in God (PG 152.316c-321a). These two ways of
32
Barlaam, however, was not convinced. His response to Palamas' Second Triad was his principal
work, Against the Messalians (to whom he likened the hesychasts). Gregory Akindynos, being an old
friend and disciple of Palamas as well as a friend of Barlaam, did not approve of this decision.
According to Akindynos, Barlaam was arrogant in his contempt for the monks, imprudent in criticizing
a man as estimable as Palamas was, and rash in calling the hesychasts heretics absent a synodal
decision.64
When Palamas found out about Barlaam's response, he responded aggressively in turn. In June
or July of 1340, he wrote his Third Triad in Defense of the Holy Hesychasts. “In this Triad, his pen
comes to give birth to Palamism.”65 Here, Palamas gives his most developed account of deification to
date, including, in the second treatise of the Triad, his first explicit description of the distinction
between the divine essence and energies in those precise terms. Returning to Mount Athos in August, 66
he authored the Hagioritic Tome, which was approved by the Protos of Mount Athos, the hegumens of
The promulgation of the Tome was a bold move by the monks. In it, they took up a traditional
prerogative of bishops—anathematizing heretics. Moreover, the basis on which they did it was striking:
their authority to teach was based on the mystical experience granted to them. The prologue of the Tome
openly presents the monks as the vanguards of a new revelation.68 The Tome condemns (while
deliberately refusing to name names) those who deny that deifying grace is an “uncreated, ingenerate,
and a distinct reality”; those who say that union with God can be attained by natural imitation (or that
grace is a natural faculty); those who deny that the intellect is somehow located in the heart of the head;
framing the Palamite distinction might be behind these two different ways of thinking. When the distinction framed as between the
essence and the light, the distinction is (at least to Thomistic eyes) more radical and its expression is more troubling. When the dis-
tinction is framed as between the essence and the energies, the distinction is expressed in a more subtle way. The question, then,
would be the coherence of these two ways of conceiving the essence and light/energies.
64Letter 8, quoted in Letters of Gregory Akindynos, 26–8.
65Nadal Cañellas, La Résistance, 161.
66Clucas, “The Hesychast Controversy,” 24.
67Sinkewicz provides a complete list of editions of the Tome as well as a translation. (“Gregory Palamas,” 140, 183–88.)
68Ibid., 183–4.
33
those who say that the light of Tabor was a phantasm or symbol that comes into being or passes away;
and those who deny that spiritual dispositions show their effects on the body. The Tome also condemns
“whoever says that only the substance of God is uncreated but not also his eternal energies, all of which
While Palamas was writing his Third Triad and the Hagioritic Tome, Barlaam took his work
Against the Messalians to Constantinople, to lodge yet another complaint with the Synod. Akindynos
again publicly opposed Barlaam for his rash and malicious criticisms of the hesychasts. To Akindynos,
Barlaam's claims did not square with what he knew of his old friend and spiritual father. But, as
Akindynos developed his correspondence with Palamas, he came to the conclusion that Barlaam's
complaints might not be so exaggerated after all, because Palamas' writings apparently contained new
expressions which Akindynos had not heard from his old master, whom he had not known since the two
had parted ways at Athos in 1332. Palamas assured him that all of these matters would be cleared up
after the defeat of Barlaam. Having been given these assurances, Akindynos decided to help Palamas. 70
By May of 1341, the emperor Andronikos III and the Patriarch John Kalekas were ready to
convoke a synod, which did in fact take place on June 10, 1341. It was to be disciplinary only. It did not
go well for Barlaam, who overplayed his hand in attacking monasticism—a traditional and popular
institution. The Great Domestic, John Kantekuzenos, an erstwhile benefactor of Barlaam saw the
writing on the wall, and dropped his support of him. Palamas acted shrewdly. Barlaam was condemned,
and his works were burned.71 Barlaam returned to Calabria, converted to the Catholic Church, and in
October 1342, Pope Clement VI appointed him the bishop of the city of Gerace.
What was the status of Palamite teaching? Palamas and his circle were exuberant, of course, and
69Ibid., 184–6.
70Nadal Cañellas, La Résistance, 169–71, 177–78.
71Meyendorff, A Study of Gregory Palamas 54–5; Clucas, “The Hesychast Controversy,” 159–87; Nadal Cañellas, La Résis-
tance, 185–98.
34
contemporary neo-Palamites think that they are justified.72 But, more realistically, it seems that Palamas
and his disciples over-interpreted the condemnation of Barlaam as official endorsement for their
position. At any rate, Palamas no longer saw the need to revisit the content of his teaching, as he
promised Akindynos that he would.73 On account of this, the relationship between Palamas and
Akindynos would quickly deteriorate, and Akindynos would become the leader in the struggle against
Palamas.
Gregory Akindynos was born to a family of shepherds around the year 1300 in the frontier city
of Prílapos (modern day Prílep, Macedonia), which had been under Byzantine rule since 1259. His first
name was the name of his religious profession, and his last name was one that he ascribed to himself.74
Likely because of Serbian invasions of his homeland, Gregory made his way to Thessalonika with his
family. There, he began his studies in grammar and rhetoric at the traditional age of 14, taking up
philosophical and theological studies for about four years after he turned 18.75 All of his written works
show training in classical Byzantine style, and throughout his life, he showed an enthusiasm for secular
learning.76
After completing his studies, Akindynos took up a post teaching rhetoric in the city of Beroia,
just to the west of Thessalonika. It is here that he met Gregory Palamas in 1326, when the latter came to
the city to found a hermitage. Palamas became Akindynos' spiritual father. Incursions by Albanian
possible, because Gregory had completed his formal education around 1322, when Barlaam had not yet arrived in Thessalonika (He-
ro, “Introduction” in Letters of Gregory Akindynos, xii; Nadal Cañellas, “Gregorio Akindynos,” 192–3; La Résistance, 9–14.)
76Nadal Cañellas, “Gregorio Akindynos,” 190–2. Akindynos was not impressed with Palamas' education. He attacked Palamas
35
nomads made the city unconducive to monastic life, and so Palamas returned to Mount Athos, taking
Akindynos with him. Palamas, however, could not convince the monastic fathers to admit Akindynos to
profession. The fathers seemed to be worried about Akindynos' enthusiasm for secular learning. At this
point Palamas seems to have found this to be an admirable trait in Akindynos. But, during his period of
conflict with Akindynos, after his own positions had developed somewhat, Palamas would come to
repeat the judgment of the Athonite fathers concerning Akindynos. For his part, Akindynos eventually
discerned that Athonite life was not for him, though he retained a lifelong respect for the monks and
their style of prayer.77 Akindynos returned briefly to Thessalonika in 1332. If he had yet met Barlaam,
he had time to make his acquaintance now, as Barlaam was himself returning to Thessalonika from
Constantinople. By 1334, Akindynos was established in the capital, had made monastic profession
there, and had been ensconced in the entourage of the emperor. He taught his directees hesychastic
principles (though he claimed to know nothing of the psychosomatic method). 78 For a time, he was the
spiritual director to the princess Irene, who had been a nun for a long time (under the name Eulogia),
replacing after a long interval her former director, Theoleptos of Philadelphia (who died in 1322), who
was one of the leaders in the hesychast revival.79 As we have seen, from the period of 1334-1341,
Akindynos tried to mediate between Barlaam and Palamas, but concerns about the extremism of the
latter led to a deteriorating relationship in the wake of the June 10, 1341 synod at which Barlaam was
condemned.
The nature of the June synod has been debated. Some have suggested that the June synod
awarded a complete victory to the Palamites after a substantive doctrinal discussion. Since the emperor
had mentioned the essence-energy distinction, Akindynos was only prolonging a debate about matters
77Lettersof Gregory Akindynos, xii; Cañellas, “Gregorio Akindynos,” 194–5. According to Nadal Cañellas, Akindynos chose to
leave Athos on his own. It was only a later story, concocted by his enemies that he was expelled.
78Akindynos, Letters of Gregory Akindynos, Letter 10, lines 142–44, 53.
79Nadal-Cañellas highlights the importance of this association, “This discovery clarifies . . . practically all the points of the life
of Akindynos and of the Palamite controversy which until now have not found a satisfactory explanation.” (“Gregorio Akindynos,”
204).
36
that were definitively settled. Others point out that in the pourparlers for the synod, it was determined
that there would be no investigation into doctrinal questions (and it was precisely by violating this rule
that Barlaam got himself into trouble), and that the synod issued no Tome in June; its only official act
was to order the burning of Barlaam's work Against the Messalians. There was no declaration in favor
of Palamite doctrines. At any rate, given his discussions with Palamas before the synod, and given the
lack of an official doctrinal statement after it, Akindynos certainly did not think that the doctrinal
questions were settled. He supported the traditions of monasticism, but Palamas' language about “a
higher divinity” and “a lower divinity,” one “energizing” and the other “energized” caused him a great
deal of consternation.
These issues would not be resolved in an irenic environment, however, because three days after
the June synod, the emperor Andronikos III died, leaving as his heir his eight-year old son John. A
council of regency was set up consisting of the empress, Anne of Savoy, the Great Domestic, John
Kantakuzenos, and the patriarch, John Kalekas. Kantakuzenos was an ambitious man and a close friend
of Andronikos. It had been his recommendation to the emperor that made Kalekas, who came from an
undistinguished family, the patriarch. But, when Andronikos actually appointed Kalekas the patriarch in
1334, the emperor also appointed him guardian of the dynasty, in place of Kantakuzenos. This clipped
Kantakuzenos' wings and gave Kalekas a certain degree of independence from his benefactor, which he
So, after the June synod, amid growing tension, Akindynos approached Palamas about
addressing the manner in which he expressed his teachings. Palamas was not interested. Palamite
sources have claimed that Akindynos conceded Palamas' position and then retracted it, but this appears
not to be the case—Akindynos only affirmed the traditional nature of his own opinions, without
80Clucas, “The Hesychast Controversy,” 188–201. The political machinations of the years 1341-1347, apart from being a major
episode in the later history of the Byzantine empire, played a major role in the outcome of the Palamite controversy. Kantakuzenos
had the support of the monastic party, while Kalekas became more supportive of Akindynos over time.
37
tradition as agreement with them.81 During this period the Palamite strategy was to assimilate
disagreement with them to a rejection of the June synod and agreement with the condemned Barlaam,
The growing acrimony between the Palamite party and Gregory Akindynos showed that the June
synod had left some unfinished business. Therefore, Kantakuzenos pressured Kalekas to call another
synod, which the Great Domestic hoped would secure the condemnation of Akindynos. At this point,
Kalekas was not really a supporter of Akindynos, but nevertheless, he was reluctant to convoke another
synod, because he feared both that doctrinal discussions would cause schism in the Church and that a
time when imperial power was being contested.82 This synod met in July,83 and by all accounts it was a
raucous affair, with more than one source claiming that some monks of the Palamite party did physical
violence to Akindynos.84 Due to all of the commotion, the Patriarch left the synod, after which time a
motion (which would have been uncanonical) was made verbally to condemn Akindynos as a
Barlaamite.
By the end of July, due again to the pressure of Kantakuzenos, Kalekas produced an official
Tome. The Tome limited itself to the points that were made at the June synod: the light of Tabor and the
hesychast method of prayer. Barlaam was condemned, the monks' way of life was defended, and further
doctrinal discussion was forbidden under the severest punishment. The Tome further ruled that no one
could oppose the arguments which the monks made against Barlaam. The Tome, however, made no
81Nadal Cañellas, La Résistance 198–204. Nadal gives evidence of possible tampering with sources on the part of the Palamites.
He also definitively refutes the claim that Akindynos reneged on doctrinal agreement with Palamas, by producing the texts of the
affidavits that Akindynos signed. Meyendorff follows the quite different narrative of the Palamite sources. (A Study of Gregory
Palamas, 57).
82Our principal sources for this period are the main partisans in the conflict themselves (Palamas, Akindynos, Kalekas, and Kan-
takuzenos), writing in retrospect. Therefore it can be hard to discern when some of the information is self-serving. Nevertheless, the
actual written decisions of the Tome of 1341, which was to come as a result of the July synod, substantially support the points of
view of Kalekas and Akindynos.
83Older sources place this synod in August, but newer sources have definitively established that it, in fact, took place in July.
38
mention of Akindynos or his condemnation.85 Also, curiously, the signatures were not added to the
Tome until mid-August and September, with some only being appended at the suspiciously opportune
time of October 1346. Palamite authors both at the time and now tend to gratuitously86 explain these
facts away. They seem to take it for granted that Akindynos' doctrine is the same as Barlaam's and was
therefore condemned.87 They thus used the Tome to go on the attack. In 1344 (after the political
circumstances brought Kalekas and Akindynos closer together), Kalakas wrote an explanation of the
Tome. Palamite authors interpret this document as Kalekas backpedaling on the Tome, whereas anti-
Palamite authors interpret it as giving the Tome a correct interpretation in the face of Palamite
propaganda.
The political situation devolved into civil war by October 1341, pitting the widowed empress
Anne of Savoy and Kalekas against Kantekuzenos. The war lasted until 1347, when Kantekuzenos took
Constantinople.88 The struggle between Akindynos and Palamas would be tightly bound to this event, as
Kantekuzenos gained the support of the monks, and Kalekas eventually came to rely on Akindynos to
speak out against Palamas. This phase of the controversy would end on February 2, 1347—the arrival of
Kantakuzenos being immanent89—when Anne of Savoy and John V Palaiologos held a synod to depose
Kalekas and excommunicate Akindynos.90 This decision was ratified two weeks later by Kantakuzenos,
85It is important to remember the standing of the people in question. At times, it can seem like Barlaam or Akindynos were
standing alone against a broad consensus of hesychast monks. This is not the case, however. Barlaam was a respected teacher with a
high profile, and Akindynos was widely recognized as a spiritual director and advisor in the highest circles—bishops and princesses
came to him, for example. Thus, they would have found agreement with many ecclesiastical and civil officials present at the synods.
It is also important to note that Kalekas was more interested in imperial and church order, and therefore, at least in this period, did
not especially favor Akindynos.
86Nadal Cañellas, La Résistance, 226;
87Clucas, “The Hesychast Controversy,” 217-31; Nadal Cañellas, La Résistance, 226-30.
88Some date the true end of the civil war to 1354 when John V Palaiologos forced John VI Kantakuzenos to abdicate. John VI
would become a monk in the capital city, taking the name Joasaph, and remain active in political activites for the remainder of his
life. Laiou, “The Palaiologoi and the World around them.” 823.
89In Byzantine history, John the son of Andronikos III Palaiologos is styled as John V, while John Kantakuzenos is styled as
John VI. This is because John V, though still a minor, was technically the emperor before Kantakuzenos was proclaimed. Thus, in
Byzantine history, somewhat unusually, John VI ruled before John V.
90Different authors have interpreted the motives of Anne and John differently. On the one hand, they were learning more about
the positions of Gregory Palamas, on the other hand, they decided to condemn Akindynos and his benefactor Kalekas right at the
moment when their enemy and Palamas' benefactor—John Kantekuzenos—was about to take Constantinople.
39
after he established himself in Constantinople as co-emperor.91
The theological battle raged during the civil war along with the military battle. As we have seen,
Palamas and his circle considered the condemnation of Barlaam at the July synod of 1341 as a
condemnation of Akindynos as well, because they likened him to Barlaam. Retiring to the monastery of
St. Michael of Sosthenion on the Bosporus, Palamas wrote his Dialogue of an Orthodox with a
Barlaamite in Partial Refutation of Barlaamite Error92 in the fall of 1341. This is one in a series of
polemical works which Palamas wrote from the autumn of 1341 through the autumn of 1342.93 Palamas
may have considered his work to be a continued refutation of Barlaamism which was condemned at the
August synod, but the patriarch Kalekas saw it as a re-opening of dogmatic questions, which was
strictly forbidden by that synod. After repeated warnings to Palamas to stop his polemical activity and
retract (as well as some possible pro-Kantekuzenist activity at Heraclea), Kalekas had Palamas
imprisoned. Ultimately this resulted in Palamas being confined to a sort of house arrest in the environs
of the Hagia Sophia. Kalekas then ordained Gregory Akindynos a priest and authorized him to respond
to the works of Palamas, which he did in the form of two Refutations, which he completed in December
of 1342 or January of 1343.94 Palamas responded to these with seven Antirrhetic Treatises in 1343-
1344.95
91Among works which deal with the Palamite controversy, Clucas provides the most historical detail and supplies the most polit-
ical context for the events of 1341-1347, and his verdict is against Kantakuzenos. (“The Hesychast Controversy,” 188–333. Meyen-
dorff supplies less detail, but comes off as something of an apologist for Kantakuzenos, and especially Palamas. Meyendorff sees
little of good faith in the actions of Akindynos or Kalekas during this period. (A Study of Gregory Palamas, 63–85.) For the standard
secular history of the period, see Nicol, The Last Centuries of Byzantium, 185–208.
92An English translation (which is unreliable in places) along with a Greek text is in Rein Ferwerda, trans., Dialogue Between an
Orthodox and a Barlaamite (Binghamton, NY: Binghamton University, 2000). In his critical edition of Akindynos' refutations of this
dialogue, Nadal-Cañellas suggests that there is an earlier, unedited version of this document, which is attested to in Akindynos' refu-
tations.
93These works are On Unity and Distinction; the Apology; On Divine and Divinizing Participation, or, On the Divine and Su-
pernatural Simplicity; Theophanes (PG 150:909-960); and That Barlaam and Akindynos Are the Ones Who, in a Truly Wicked and
Atheistic Manner, Are Dividing the One Divintiy Into Two Unequal Divinities.
94Nadal Cañellas, “Gregorio Akindino,” 216
95Sinkewicz comments, “Palamas responded in a series of seven Antirrhetic Treatises, and his correspondence during this period
is of critical importance to the correct interpretation of his theology. In an effort to better inform his supporters and to persuade the
undecided, Palamas tends to be more cautious in his letters, nuancing his explanations and his use of theological language.” (Gregory
Palamas 135). Other authors have similarly noted that in writings from this time period, Palamas makes a shift in the authorities to
which he appealed, from the sort of authors which were later included in the Philokalia to the more classical fourth and fifth century
Fathers of the Church. (Nadal Cañellas)
40
We do not have a systematic statement of the theology of Gregory Akindynos. He wrote his
works only after being commissioned by the Patriarch to respond to the writings which Palamas
produced after the Synods of 1341.96 His commission was limited to refuting Palamas' claim to
represent the authentic tradition of the church. His method was to cite passages from the Fathers in their
entirety, and set them in both their immediate and wider context. In order to do this, he set out a rather
developed hermeneutic for reading the Fathers. For example, exuberant expressions of a particular
Father risk misinterpretation if they are not read in the light of the basic assumption of both that Father
and other Fathers.97 In the light of this hermeneutic, Palamas comes off as a careless reader of the
Fathers, and perhaps maliciously so.98 The Fathers, for instance do not draw a hard distinction between
the essence and the energies, and this is shown in the fact that they can apply the same concepts to both.
Speculatively, it is an oversimplification to equate opposition to Palamas with support for Barlaam, and
interested in Barlaam’s criticism of hesychastic prayer. The question is whether this rejection of
intellectualism and support for hesychastic prayer require the acceptance of Palamas’ theories.
Akindynos thinks that it does not, and he cites confusions that he sees among the Palamites: the
uncritical application of created metaphors (like the sun and its rays) to God; the confusion of the roles
played by the uncreated divine energy (identical with the essence) and its created effect; and the
misappropriation of texts about the “works of God which do not begin in time” of which God is the
96 John Meyendorff (without engaging his work) presents Akindynos as a “very weak” and “mediocre” theologian who tried to
have a hesychastic spirituality while rejecting the theology of Palamas, which he did not realize was impossible. Instead, says Mey-
endorff, Akindynos' theology is essentially that of Barlaam. Akindynos relied on a “formal conservatism,” which consisted in a mere
“verbal repetition of the formulas of the Fathers” in “interminable theological treatises” that gave a “false impression of doctrinal
certainty.” According to Meyendorff, Akindynos opposed Palamas because the latter “interpreted the patristic tradition in a living and
creative way” and thus embodied “the truly traditional spirit which wished to share the living experience of the Fathers . . . and not
only the words they spoke.” Others have suggested, rather, that Akindynos was more careful to quote his sources integrally and in
context, whereas Palamas was more free with his references to the Fathers. (A Study of Gregory Palamas, 56–7, 72)
97 Juan Sergio Nadal, “La critique par Akindynos de l’herméneutique patristique de Palamas,” Istina 3 (1974): 297–328.
98 More recently, a few authors have undertaken a thorough investigation of the Greek patristic tradition, and have found it to be
more sympathetic to Palamas. Jean-Claude Larchet, La théologie des énergies divines: des origines à saint Jean Damascène, Cogita-
tio Fidei 272 (Paris: Éditions du Cerf, 2010); Torstein Theodor Tollefsen, Activity and Participation in Late Antique and Early Chris-
tian Thought (Oxford: Oxford Universtiy Press, 2012).
41
“demiurge” with the divine energies.99
The apogee of the career of Kalekas and Akindynos occurred in late 1344 when Palamas was
excommunicated and declared a heretic. By 1346, however, Kalekas was already beginning to fall out
of favor with Anne of Savoy, and as we have seen, by February 1347, Kalekas had been deposed,
Akindynos had been excommunicated, and Kantekuzenos had become emperor. His victory also marked
a turn in the tide in favor of the Palamite party. A new Tome was published. Claiming to confirm the
Tome of 1341, this Tome condemned Barlaam, Akindynos, and Kalekas; it made no mention of the
former Tome's prohibition of doctrinal discussion, however.100 Palamas' friend and disciple Isidore
Boucherias, who had been denied an episcopal see under Kalekas was now appointed patriarch and
reigned from 1347-50, after which he was succeeded by another Palamite, Philotheos Kokkinos. Isidore
immediately consolidated his influence by appointing 32 bishops, chief among them was Gregory
Palamas, who was named the archbishop of Thessalonika. Palamas was unable, however, to take
possession of his see until 1350, when the anti-Kantekuzenist Zealot party was finally put down in the
Empire's second city. Palamas spent his time waiting on Mount Athos, and in 1349 or 1350 wrote a
summary of his position, One Hundred and Fifty Chapters on Topics of Natural And Theological
Science, the Moral and the Ascetic Life, Intended As a Purge for the Barlaamite Corruption.
As for Akindynos, Kantakuzenos wrote in his memoirs that he promised Akindynos safety and
the freedom to publish, but Akindynos, unwilling to stand trial and abandoned by most of his former
friends, went into self-imposed exile in 1348, dying before May of the same year. This did not quite put
an end to the anti-Palamite movement, however. Throughout the summer of 1347, anti-Palamite bishops
met and pronounced against his doctrines, causing Isidore to depose them in August. Taking up the
intellectual opposition was Nikephoros Gregoras, who found the rising tide of Palamas inimical to his
intellectual pursuits. Gregoras had sided with Kantakuzenos in the civil war, but eventually they broke
42
over Palamism.101 He debated with Palamas in 1348, and in 1350 he wrote his most important work, the
First Antirrhetics against Palamas.102 A synod was called for 1351, which met in May and July. The
latter meeting concluded with a solemn dogmatic definition, the Tome of 1351.103 Effectively, any
opposition to the Palamites would henceforth explicitly be equated to Barlaamism and condemned as
such.104 The Tome did end up making a backhanded concession to Akindynos, however, in proscribing
the use of the expressions “higher” and “energizing” divinity when speaking of the essence and “lower”
and “energized” divinity when speaking of the energies, language which Palamas had dropped as he
abdicate. He became a monk under the name Joasaph, but still remained a political advisor and
theological writer. John V was more favorable to the anti-Palamite cause, even deposing the pro-
Palamite patriarch, Philotheos Kokkinos at the beginning of his reign. This gave Nicephoros an opening
at the court. John V permitted a debate between Palamas and Gregoras before the papal legate Paul in
1355. Gregoras continued the debate in his Second Antirrhetics of 1355-6, to which Palamas responded.
Apart from these debates and a brief period of capture by the Turks in 1354-5, Palamas spent his time as
a devoted shepherd of souls in Thessalonika.105 Sixty-three of his homilies are extant, most of them
coming from this period.106 Palamas died on November 14, 1357.107 The Patriarch Philotheos Kokkinos,
101Ibid., 377.
102H.-V. Beyer, ed., Nikephoros Gregoras. Antirrhetika I. Wiener byzantinische Studien. (Vieanna, 1976). Sinkewicz says that
this is “theologically the most significant refutation of Palamite theology within the lifetime of Palamas” (“Gregory Palamas,” 136)
103PG 151:732c-754b
104Clucas covers the arguments of this Synod in detail from the perspective of Nikephoros Gregoras, who was both the major
opponent of Palamas at the synod and a major historian of the period. If Gregoras is to be believed, then the Tome was a rather heavi-
ly redacted version of events, which leaves out many arguments and details which were embarassing to the Palamite party. (“The
Hesychast Controversy,” 440–534.)
105Sinkewicz, “Gregory Palamas,” 137
106Interestingly enough, there are no traces of the doctrines that are associated with Palamas in these homilies, not even in the
43
Latin Theology Enters the Debate
The civil war and the abdication of Kantakuzenos were the beginning of the end for the
Byzantine empire. The civil war had divided the populace and weakened the Empire significantly.
Moreover, the vying factions of the civil war had received assistance from both Serbian and Ottoman
forces. This was effectively an invitation for Ottoman forces to become familiar with Europe. Then, on
March 2, 1354, a catastrophic earthquake, accompanied with blizzards and rain, ravaged the Thracian
coast. Capitalizing on Byzantine disaster, Ottoman settlers at once crossed the Dardanelles and took up
residence in what was left of Gallipoli. The Turks were now officially in Europe, and, controlling the
only water-route to Constantinople, they were poised for further expansion into the continent. By 1374,
the Turks had made significant conquests in Europe, and had reduced the Byzantine emperor and the
Serb princes to vassalage. How would the Emperor respond to the Turkish threat? John V did so
differently than his predecessor. Kantakuzenos' daughter was married to the heir of the Ottoman throne;
he favored appeasement. John V on the other hand, favored reaching out to the West (his mother, after
all, was Italian), and the person that he would turn to in order to help him shape his western policy was
the old right-hand man of John Kantakuzenos, Demetrios Kydones, who would start a small circle of
“Byzantine Thomists.”108
Demetrios Kydones (c. 1324—1397/8) rose to prominence by being an early associate of John
Kantakuzenos (before the civil war). Eventually, he became Kantakuzenos’ chief minister. In the course
of his duties, he felt the need to learn Latin, in order to better deal with his western counterparts. In
order to do this, he turned to the Dominicans at Pera. The Dominican priest who oversaw his instruction
eventually gave him passages from Thomas Aquinas’ Summa Contra Gentiles to translate.
Kantakuzenos supported what became a full-fledged translation project, and Kydones completed his
108 Stylianos G. Papadopulos counts eight pro-Thomists and twelve anti-Thomists. (“Thomas in Byzanz: Thomas-Rezeption Und
Thomas-Kritik in Byzanz zwischen 1354 und 1453,” Theologie Und Philosophie 49 (1974): 279.
44
work on December 24, 1354, two weeks after the abdication of his patron. Kydones went on to translate
other works of St. Thomas, and as he did, his estimation of Latin culture and the Latin theological
tradition rose dramatically. He was impressed with the way Thomas argued for and justified his claims
and the claims of the Christian faith. Motivated by this, Kydones continued his translation project as a
means of bringing the East and West together.109 After the abdication of John VI, he had to lay low,
converting to Catholicism in 1357. Little-by-little he began to get involved again in government, until
John V invited him to return to his former duties in 1369, and he was present in Rome when John V was
received into the Catholic Church in Rome at the hands of the pope on October 18 of the same year. 110
Demetrios’ intellectual activities exercised an influence over his brother, the priest-monk
Prokoros (1330-1368/9), a vocation which gave him more theological skill, but less political acumen.
Prokoros acquired skill in Latin as a monk on Mount Athos and contributed to his brother’s translation
efforts, as well as making a number of other translations of Augustine, Boethius, and others, on his own.
His central work is a detailed anti-Palamite treatise called On The Essence and Energies of God,111
where he extensively deploys texts from St. Thomas Aquinas against Palamas, but never cited Thomas
by name. As we have seen, the abdication of John VI and the rise of John V was favorable to the anti-
Palamites, forcing the resignation of the pro-Palamite patriarch Philotheos Kokkinos. Demetrios
Kydones had arranged for the restoration of Philotheos on the condition that he leave non-Palamites
alone. But, Prokoros gave Philotheos the opportunity to resolve the Palamite controversy once and for
all.112 Some monks on Athos denounced Prokoros to the patriarch in 1365-6. Prokoros’ abbot demanded
109
John Meyendorff claims that Kydones was not sincere in his enthusiasm for western theology; he was more interested in po-
litical expediency and Renaissance culture. (John Meyendorff, “Society and Culture in the Fourteenth Century: Religious Problems,”
in Byzantine Hesychasm: Historical, Theological, and Social Problems [London: Variorum Reprints, 1974], 61). But this seems to be
more a function of Meyendorff’s binary opposition between humanists (who must be secular) and religious people (who must be
hesychast). Does this really explain all of his translation work? Does this explain the effusive praise that he gives to Aquinas’ work
(Letter 333, in F. Kianka, “Demetrius Cydones and Thomas Aquinas,” Byzantion 52 (1982): 285.)
110 Papadopulos, “Thomas in Byzanz,” 278-82; Angold, “Byzantium and the West,” 67-8; Plested, Orthodox Readings of Aqui-
was part of a larger six-volume work, of which Candal has provided an edition of Book VI on the light of Tabor (“El Libro VI de
Prócoro Cidonio (sobre La Luz Tabórica),” Orientalia Christiana Periodica 20 (1954): 247–97.
112 Angold suggests that Philotheos and his allies intended this move also to discredit Demetrios Kydones pro-unionist strategy.
45
his submission to the Tome of 1351, which Prokoros gave, but then reneged on. This prompted a search
of his cell which turned up heretical writings. Appealing to the Patriarch himself (but with personal
insults and little regard for propriety), Prokoros submitted his writings for review. Raising the stakes,
Prokoros also formally denounced the veneration of Gregory Palamas. This brought condemnation from
both Mount Athos and its ordinary. Prokoros was thus brought to trial before the Patriarch in April 1368,
where his syllogistic style of argumentation was found to be discordant with the teachings of the
113
Fathers. The Tome of 1368 condemned Prokoros, and at the same time, Philotheos canonized
Gregory Palamas.114
Demetrios’ unionist policies ultimately did not bear fruit, but through his work, the Dominicans
of Pera gained access to the Byzantine elite. Some of the best scholars of the generation formed a circle
around Demetrios, and exerted an outsized influence on the intellectual culture of their times. Their pro-
Latin stance often made them unwanted, and they often ended up turning towards the West, some even
joining the Dominican order. Perhaps the most influential of the circle of Demetrios Kydones was
Manuel Kalekas (d. 1410), the nephew of the disgraced patriarch. He met Demetrios in 1391, converted
to the Catholic Church in 1396, and entered the Dominican Order in around 1403. After the death of
Demetrios in 1397/8, he became the intellectual leader of the pro-Thomist party.115 He wrote a number
of important works, including a very complete critique of the Palamite position, as this was expressed in
the Tome of 1351, On the Essence and Operations.116 Here, Kalekas gives a clear explanation of what
and the Fourteenth-Century Understanding of Orthodoxy,” in Byzantine Orthodoxies: Papers from the Thirty-Sixth Spring Symposi-
um of Byzantine Studies, ed. Andrew Louth and Augustine Casiday (Aldershot, 2006), 75–91.
115 Papadopulos, “Thomas in Byzanz,” 282-3; Marios Pilavakis, “Markos Eugenikos’ ‘First Antirrhetic against Manuel Kalekas
about the Essence and the Energy’. Editio Princeps with Introduction and Commentary” (Ph.D. diss., King’s College, University of
London, 1987), 136–7.
116 PG 152:283-428. The edition in Migne is accompanied with a long preface (PG 152:257-284) by the editor of the treatise, the
Dominican patrologist François Combefis (1605-1679), who also supplied extensive editorial notes. This is one of the earliest refer-
ences to the Palamite controversy that I could find in the West. The earliest, as far as I can tell is from the Jesuit theologian Denis
Pétau (1583-1652), who sought to incorporate the Greek fathers more thoroughly in his work, though he was quite critical of Pala-
46
he takes the Palamite distinction to be, emphasizing some of Palamas’ more extreme statements about
the extreme difference in ontological grade between the essence and the energies. He provides extensive
quotations from the Fathers (especially the Cappadocians, Dionysius, Maximus, John of Damascus and
an occasional reference to Augustine), hoping to show that this distinction is untraditional, and he
supplies reasoning explaining how God is named from his energies which produce created effects and
how distinct concepts do not necessarily imply distinct realities. The Thomism of the work is muted,
The last group of important Thomists were three brothers: Maximos, Andrew (d. 1451), and
Theodore. Maximos was another disciple of Demetrios Kydones, who actually joined the Dominicans
before Kalekas (in 1390). His zeal is shown in his rather polemical dialogue with the staunchly
Orthodox monk Joseph Bryennios.117 Maximos’ younger brother Andrew followed him into the
Dominican order, and eventually became the bishop of Rhodes and then Cyprus. Andrew was likely the
first to openly cite Thomas, claim that his teaching was incompatible with Palamas, and assert the
superiority of the former over the latter, explaining himself in a request to Bessarion (before his
conversion to the Catholic Church).118 For Andrew, Thomas was an authoritative figure, and the
definitive spokesman of the Western theological tradition.119 The final brother, Theodore, also became a
mas. (G. Podskalsky, Theologie Und Philsophie in Byzanz: Der Streit Um Die Theologische Methodik in Der Spätbyzantinischen
Geistegeschichte (14/15. Jh.) [Munich, 1977] 7). Again, as far as I can tell, none of the standard Thomistic commentators take any
notice of Palamas, except for a brief mention (and rejection) by Billuart (Cursus Theologiae, diss. ii, a. iii, sec. ii et iii, vol. 1, p. 52,
54)
117 The priest-monk Joseph Bryennios (c. 1350–c. 1431/2) was one of the most significant Orthodox theologians of his time. He
was an anti-unionist and sometime friend of Demetrios Kydones, with a mixed opinion of Thomas. He will use and adapt Thomas’
arguments from time to time, and at other times will strongly disagree with him. (At one point, he names seven Thomistic positions,
including Thomas’ understanding of the divine simplicity, ‘which no Orthodox should pay attention to’) He rejects the use of syllo-
gisms in theology in a way that bears a striking resemblance to Barlaam, but in practice uses them anyways. According to Demetra-
copoulos, he was “clear-minded enough to see that Aquinas’ conceptual distinction of the divine names is not identical with the
Greek patristic one. Given that he lived after a rather long chain of Thomistic Palamites [i.e. Palamites who, according to Demetra-
copoulos softened some of Palamas’ stark language of distinction, in dialogue with Thomas] Brynnios marks a unique and consistend
and, to that extent, remarkable return to the pre-Thomistic vindication of Palams’ distinction, which was based exclusively on Greek
patristic grounds. Although he knew Aquinas’ Summae and the Thomistic Palamism of the second half of the fourteenth century, he
rejected both of them.” (Papadopulos, “Thomas in Byzanz,” 293; Plested, Orthodox Readings of Aquinas, 120-2; Demetracopoulos,
“Distinction Between God’s ‘Essence’ and ‘Energies,’” 287-91)
118 Emmanuel Candal, “Andreae Rhodiensis, OP, inedita ad Bessarionem epistula (De divina essentia et operatione),” Orientalia
47
Dominican and a bishop; he has no notable writings, but was involved in the discussions leading up to
Andrew Chrysoberges was present at the Council of Florence (1438-9), a council which in many
ways was the fruit of the intellectual efforts of Demetrios Kydones. The Council itself, however, tabled
discussion of the Palamite distinction. With the failure of the union with the West, the Byzantine Empire
entered its last days. After the Empire succumbed to the final Turkish assault, there were fewer outlets
for expression of Byzantine theology, and fewer opportunities for engagement with the West. For this,
48
Chapter Two:
It is sometimes claimed that the Christian understanding of God's involvement with the world
necessitates the Palamite distinction between God's essence and His energies. Drawing a strong
distinction between the essence and the energies, it is felt, allows us to explain how God can utterly
transcend the world in His infinite mystery, and yet be intimately present to the world. On the one hand,
God co-operates—He enters into a synergy—with us through His energies. On the other hand, our
ultimate beatitude consists in a mystical union with God's incomprehensible essence, and it is the strong
distinction between the inaccessible essence and the accessible energies that preserves the dynamic and
On this analysis, the Thomistic notion of absolute divine simplicity, that is, the identity between
God's essence and His energy (or in more Latin parlance, operatio) is both philosophically problematic,
untraditional, and unable to explicate the teachings of divine Revelation. St. Paul says, for instance,
“For this I toil, striving with all the energy (ἐνέργειαν) which he mightily inspires (ἐνεργουμένεν)
within me.” (Col. 1:29). If God's energies are really just His essence, then, it is claimed, if He is not to
enter into essential composition with creatures, then He must remain shut up in Himself; he cannot
“energize” creation in the manner that St. Paul describes. This critique is sometimes turned into a
genealogical account of Western secularism. It is thought that because of divine simplicity, Western
philosophy and theology could never develop a properly synergistic account of God's activity in the
world. Western doctrines of creation make it autonomous from God and intelligible according to
creation’s own principles.121 Moreover, the lack of a distinction between God's essence and energies
inevitably leads to a description of the face-to-face vision of God as an intellectual contemplation of the
very essence of God rather than a mystical union with Him according to the energies—a view which
121
David Bradshaw, Aristotle East and West: Metaphysics and the Divisions of Christendom (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 2004) x, 266, 276.
49
further underwrites an alleged Western rationalism.
But are these concerns warranted? A deeper appreciation of the Thomistic tradition can show
that they are not. That is what we propose to do here. The controversy between the Thomistic and
Palamite doctrines of God plays out in three areas: creation, deification, and the vision of God,
especially in heaven. Here, we will focus on the first of these three, the Thomistic doctrine of creation.
Our task is to lay out the philosophical fundamentals of the Thomistic doctrine of creation, in order to
reply to some specific, typical Palamite objections which will be posed in the next chapter. We also
hope that this exposition will provide a response to the more general Palamite concern that the
Thomistic doctrine of divine simplicity leaves creation dangerously autonomous from God, and
First, we will clarify the surprisingly tricky concept of what it means to say that two realities or
concepts are distinct. Then we will use this to state the doctrine of divine simplicity more precisely,
clearing up some misconceptions. Specifically, we will be able to say how the various “things around
God” (τὰ περὶ τοῦ θεοῦ)—the divine intellect, will, and pure perfections—are really identified with the
divine essence. Next we will turn to a consideration of the notion of creation, which we will develop by
showing how it is different than created agency. We will then describe how, in terms of this teaching,
God is actively present to creation. After a few remarks on deification and a brief synthesis, we will
Distinctions
The most common way of stating the difference between Gregory Palamas' doctrine of God and
that of Thomas Aquinas is to say that for Palamas, the divine essence is “really distinct” from the divine
energies, whereas for Aquinas, due to his understanding of the divine simplicity, the divine energies are
distinct only by a “distinction of reason.” Stated this way, the doctrinal difference seems clear enough,
but upon closer inspection, the interpretation of these doctrinal statements is not so clear.
50
In the first place, the Western scholastic tradition, in the course of its own controversies, has
paid a good deal of attention to the nature of distinction because this tradition has discovered some
important subtleties in this concept. The scholastic problem boils down to this: if a distinction is
something that we make with our minds, then how much of the distinction is ex parte rei, and how
much of the distinction is due to our mind's work of conceiving and signifying? One of the defining
traits of Aquinas and his school is to deny a strict isomorphism between our concepts and the realities
that they signify. That is, for St. Thomas and Thomists more generally, even if things can be thought
apart, this does not necessarily mean that they do (or even can) exist apart. We can have separate
concepts of things that do not necessarily have separate existence in rerum natura: the parts of the
essence of a thing (as revealed in its definition) are not really distinct in the thing, nor does the
knowledge of a universal augur for the existence of a separate universal in rerum natura. This claim that
there is a strict isomorphism between our concepts and the entities that are in reality is the fundamental
option taken by those that Aquinas calls “the Platonists,” of which he is uniformly critical. 122 Rather, for
Aquinas, reality has a richness to it that the human intellect, due to its state as the lowest kind of
intellect, must apprehend in a refractory way, through a multiplicity of concepts, which are gained
through abstraction from sense knowledge, and which are composed and divided by the act of
judgment, in order to conform the mind to reality. This is all the more true when it comes to human
knowledge of God, who exceeds the power of every created intellect to comprehend.
In the second place, there are certain ambiguities with respect to the interpretation of Palamas'
distinction between the divine essence and energies. For Palamas, as for so many of his Eastern
Christian predecessors, the epistemology of the “Platonists” seem to have had a more comprehensive
influence on his thought than they had on the thought of Aquinas.123 So, it would be only natural to take
122
Robert J. Henle, Saint Thomas and Platonism: A Study of the Plato and Platonici Texts in the Writings of Saint Thomas (The
Hague: Martinus Nijhoff, 1956).
123
The relative influence of Plato and Aristotle on the thought of St. Thomas has been a widely debated question in twentieth-
century Thomism. Opinions on this question have crossed the entire spectrum. Some have tried to maximize Thomas's Platonism
while minimize his Aristotelianism; some have tried to do the reverse. Some have highlighted Thomas as an entirely unique thinker
51
the Platonic triad which describes the structure of participation (ἀμέθεκτον, μετεχόμενα, μετέχοντα) and
suppose that these have a distinction that somehow obtains extra-mentally. The problem, of course, is
that ever since the time of Palamas, his interpreters have disagreed on how to interpret the precise nature
of this distinction.124
How, then, should we understand the notion of distinction from a Thomistic perspective? First,
we should note that distinction follows on more basic notions of our intellect. In particular, distinction is
one of the concepts that follows upon the notion of one or unity. One is a so-called transcendental,
whose notion is co-extensive with being, adding to being the notion of undividedness.125 Consequently,
there are as many modes of unity as there are modes of being (which are the ten categories). The
principal modes of unity, then, are identity or sameness (which is said of things which are one in
substance), equality (which is said of things which are one in quantity), and likeness (which is said of
So, identity indicates some unity in substance. Now, according to Aristotle and St. Thomas,
things can be identical either per se or per accidens. Things have a per se identity either when they
share a common “matter” (whether that commonality is numeric or specific) or when they share a
common “substance.” By the former, St. Thomas takes Aristotle to mean that two items have a per se
identity when they are both determinations of the same potential principle, whether that be in the
physical order (i.e. they share the same sensible matter) or in the logical order (i.e. they share a common
genus). By the latter, St. Thomas means that two items have a per se identity when they both refer to
in his own right. What makes this question so hard to resolve is both the dizzying variety of authorities which St. Thomas uses and
the speculative power he deploys in crafting his own thought. Nevertheless, we can make a few determinations in this matter. First
off, given the fact that Thomas chooses so many “Aristotelian” fundamental options in constructing his philosophy, given his con-
sistent criticism of the fundamental philosophical options of the “Platonists,” and given the sheer bulk of commentary on and cita-
tions from the Philosopher, we must place Aquinas squarely in the Aristotelian camp. Nevertheless, when he is able to speak ex
professo, St. Thomas does not limit himself to restating the positions of Aristotle, rather he has clearly gone beyond the thought of
the Stagarite by integrating ideas that clearly have a “Platonic” pedigree.
124
For the older, classical Palamites, see Demetracopoulos, “Palamas Transformed.” For the newer Palamites, see Eric Perl, “St.
Gregory Palamas and the Metaphysics of Creation,” Dionysius 14 (1990): 105–30.
125
Thomas Aquinas, De Veritate, q. 1, a. 1; Summa Theologiae, Ia, q. 11, a. 1; Commentary on Aristotle's Metaphysics, Book IV,
lect. 2, nn. 548-58; Book V, lect. 8, n. 866
126
Thomas Aquinas, Commentary on Aristotle's Metaphysics, Book IV, lect. 2, n. 561; Book V, lect. 11, n. 907
52
something that is the same in definition or ratio.127 John of St. Thomas takes up this description of per
se identity under the rubric of material and formal distinction, respectively. He says that two items are
materially identical if they agree in entity and reality, but not in the ratio by which they are signified
primo et per se. Further, two things are formally identical when they are properly expressed by the same
proper ratio.128 Notice that material identity is a weaker type of identity than is formal identity.
A still weaker type of identity is per accidens identity. Two items have this sort of identity
because they are found together in the same (logical) subject. This sort of identity is revealed in
predication. It can happen in three ways: two accidents are said to be identical because they are
predicated of the same subject (as when white and musical are said to be identical because they are
predicated of Socrates); an accidental predicate is said to be identical with the subject of which it is
predicated (as when white is said to be identical with Socrates); and a subject is said to be identical with
the accident of which it is predicated (as when Socrates is said to be identical with white). 129
In short, then, the difference between per se and per accidens identities is that the former type
identifies two concepts of a single res, whereas the latter identifies two concepts, each of a different res,
which exist together. As we will see in more detail soon, the test for a per se or per accidens unity is
predication, because our intellect's act of judgment conforms the intellect to the real. For now, we can
say this: in substances, things predicated in an essential mode (genus, species, difference) of the
substance will have per se identities, whereas things predicated in the mode of a property or accident
will have a per accidens identity. However, the notion of a per accidens identity, as we shall see, also
127
Thomas Aquinas, ibid, Book V, lect. 11, n. 911; cf. Book V, lect. 7, nn. 849, 859-865.
128
John of St. Thomas, Cursus Philosophicus, Ars Logica, pars II, q. 2, a. 3 (Beate Reiser, ed. Turin: Marietti, 1930, vol. 1, p.
296)
129
Commentary on the Metaphysics, book V, lect. 8, n. 908. The last two examples of per accidens identity make more sense
when the predication on which they are based is given in Latin: Sortes est albus. This enunciation expresses the composition of two
concepts: Sortes and albus. In affirming this composition, the intellect's act of judgment produces a new verbum or “expressed spe-
cies” which conforms or adequates the intellect to the extra-mental res: the really existing white Socrates. cf. Summa Theologiae, Ia,
q. 13, a. 12, c.; John of St. Thomas, Cursus Philosophicus, Ars Logica, pars I, q. 5, aa. 1-2 (Reiser ed. vol. 1, pp. 145-6, 152);
Philosophia Naturalis, pars. IV, q. 11, a. 3 (Reiser ed. Vol. 3, pp. 369-73).
53
Now, distinction is simply the lack or removal of some identity. 130 Consequently, there will be as
many different ways of distinguishing as there are ways of removing the different types of identity that
we have outlined. One very obvious way in which two items are non-identical, or distinct, occurs when
they exist as numerically distinct substances: Peter is distinct from John, for instance, or a man is
distinct from a horse. On the other hand, one very obvious instance of identity, or non-distinction,
occurs when two concepts are indicated with synonomous names: “Tully” and “Cicero,” for instance, or
These instances immediately raise the question of the relationship of our concepts to different
things in reality. In the case of Peter and John, two distinct concepts answer to two distinct things in
reality. On the other hand, the case of “man” and “rational animal” or “Tully” and “Cicero,” two distinct
concepts each having exactly the same content refer to one and the same thing in reality. Are these the
only two ways in which our concepts can be related to their real referents? What about the type (or,
possibly, types) of cases that fall in between the two already mentioned: when what is one substance in
reality is conceptualized by several non-identical concepts. For instance, we can conceptualize Peter
under the the distinct concepts of “body,” “animal,” and “rational.” But what are these concepts
concepts of? That is, do each of the concepts under which we can consider Peter answer to something
different in Peter himself? What about the distinction between the concepts of “essence” and “nature,”
for instance? They seem to pick out the same thing in reality, but express something different about it.
The Western scholastic tradition has seen a need for some type of mediate distinction or
distinctions which are in some sense weaker than the distinction between Peter and John, but are in
some sense stronger than the distinction between Tully and Cicero. However, the different scholastic
traditions have disagreed on how to characterize the various grades of distinction. In particular, there
has been a celebrated controversy on this matter between the Thomistic and Scotistic schools. This
dispute about distinctions is important, because it conditions the schools' teachings on a number of
130
John of St. Thomas, Cursus Philosophicus, Ars Logica, pars II, q. 2, a. 3 (Reiser ed. Vol. 1, p. 294)
54
important points: the distinction between essence and existence in creatures, the difference between the
various “metaphysical grades” of a substance (i.e. “body,” “animal,” and “rational” in our example of
Peter above), and the distinction between the Persons and the natures in the Trinity. Significantly for our
purposes, this dispute about distinctions also conditions the schools' teachings on the distinction
between God's essence, attributes, and operations. Therefore, we want to describe and justify the various
In order to supply such a taxonomy of distinctions, however, it will first be useful to describe
how our intellect does the work of identifying or distinguishing our concepts. Aristotle says that our
intellect has two different acts. On the one hand, there is the act by which the intellect understands
indivisibles (τῶν ἀδιαιρέτων νόησις). This is the so-called “first act” of the intellect, which we can also
call “simple apprehenstion.” On the other hand, there is the act by which the intellect composes things
into a unity (σύνθεσίς τις ἤδη νοημάτων ὥσπερ ἓν ὄντων) or divides them (διαίρεσιν).131 This is the so-
called “second act” of the intellect, which we can also call “judgment”132 By its first act of simple
apprehension, the intellect grasps the quiddity of a thing and forms a concept or ratio of the quiddity
grasped. By its second act of judgment, the intellect composes or divides two concepts (we express this
the res signified by each of the concepts are really composed or separated extramentally. Thus, whereas
the first act of the intellect concerns itself with the essence of the thing that it is trying to grasp, the
second act of the intellect concerns itself with the esse of the thing that it is trying to grasp.133
Consequently, it is this second act of the intellect that conforms or adequates it to reality. Hence, in its
131
De Anima, iii.6 430a26-8, 430b4
132
Later logicians, of course, add a “third act” of the intellect, which is reasoning. This later addition has been justified by Ar-
istotle claims at the beginning of the Posterior Analytics (1.71a1) concerning the need for syllogistic reasoning, and St. Thomas's
remarks on those claims in his Commentary on the Posterior Analytics, Book I, lect. 1. See John of St. Thomas, Ars Logica, Prae-
ludium Secundum (Reiser ed. Vol. 1, p. 5); Philosophia Naturalis, pars IV, q. 11, a. 2 (Reiser ed. Vol. 4, p. 366)
133
Thomas Aquinas, Commentary on Aristotle's De Anima, Book III, lect. 11, nn. 746-51; In I Sent. d. 19, q. 5, a. 1, ad 7; Su-
per Boetium de Trinitate, q. 5, a. 3; Summa Theologiae, Ia, q. 85, a. 1, ad 1; John of St. Thomas, Cursus Philosophicus, Ars Logica,
Praeludium Secundum (Reiser ed. Vol. 1, pp. 5-6); pars I, q. 5, aa. 1-2 (Reiser ed. Vol. 1, pp. 145-7, 152-4); Cursus Philosophicus,
Philosophia Naturalis, pars IV, q. 11, a. 3 (Reiser ed. Vol. 3, pp. 366-73); Louis-Marie Régis, Epistemology (New York: Macmillan,
1959).
55
act of simple apprehension, the intellect is neither true nor false, whereas it is in its act of judgment that
The process by which we arrive at distinct concepts of the things that we perceive is called
abstraction. That is, the intellect literally “draws out from” (ab-trahere) real beings the different
concepts or rationes by which we express our thoughts about them. Speaking in a broad sense, we can
say that we make abstractions both by the first act and the second act of our intellect. However,
speaking in a stricter and more proper sense, we reserve the term “abstraction” for the first act of the
intellect, the “understanding of indivisibles” by which we simply apprehend the essence. We call the
distinguishing work that we do by the second act of our intellect—the act of “composing and dividing”
or judgment—”separation.”134
By its first act, that of simple apprehension, the intellect can grasp the same res according to
different rationes. But this does not make the intellect false, for this first act of the intellect does not
assert anything about whether or how these two concepts are identified or distinguished in reality. This
task is the proper responsibility of the intellect's second act, that of judgment. Here the intellect asserts
that the real referents of two concepts are somehow identified in reality (a judgment which is called a
“composition” and is expressed by us in an affirmative proposition) or that the real referents of two
concepts are somehow not identified in reality (a judgment which we call “separation” or “division.”).
Since it is the act of judgment that conforms our minds to reality by composing or dividing the concepts
that we form of the world, it is by the act of judgment that we determine whether or how the referents of
our concepts are identified or distinguished in reality. Therefore, there are two fundamental types of
distinctions: the distinction of reason and the real distinction, corresponding to the two types of
judgment that our intellect can make, composition and separation, respectively.
So, distinguishing is an activity that we do with our minds. We do it with either the first act of
the intellect (which is abstraction properly so-called) or with the second act of the intellect (which is the
134
Super Boetium de Trinitate, q. 5, a. 3; Summa Theologiae, Ia, q. 85, a. 1, ad 1
56
judgment of separation, or abstraction in a broad sense). When we distinguish in the first act of the
intellect, we come up with two distinct concepts. Passing to the second act of the intellect, we can
compose and divide these concepts. If there is an order of predication between the two concepts, if we
can make a composition with them, then we have failed to deny their per se identity in the sense
discussed above. The distinction is only at the level of concepts; it is a distinction of reason. If we
cannot make a composition with them, if we must make a separation of them, then we have successfully
denied their per se unity. They may or may not have a per accidens unity. Since our intellect’s second
act, the act of judgment, conforms our minds to the real, this distinction is not merely one of concepts,
but also obtains extramentally. Any distinction of this type is called a real distinction. 135
The most obvious case of a real distinction is two distinct substances that are really separable.
We judge that “man is not a horse” or “Peter is not John,” for instance, and in so doing, we assert a real
distinction between men and horses, Peter and John. This type of real distinction is called the distinction
res a re (i.e. between thing and thing). We can also call this type of distinction a real physical
distinction, so called because we typically notice it through sense-experience: Peter occupies a different
matter and place than John.136 In a real physical distinction, there is a lack of even per accidens unity.
There is another type of real distinction—the real metaphysical distinction.137 It obtains between
the various correlative principles of a being: essence and existence; primary matter and substantial form;
substance and accident; a faculty and its proper action. What all of these pairs have in common is that
they are correlates of potency and act, determinability and determination. The real distinction between
act and potency is foundational to the Thomistic system, and it is ubiquitous. 138 Not only does the real
135
Note that this means that real distinctions are also, in some sense, distinctions of reason, inasmuch as in order to make a re-
al distinction, our intellect employs two distinct concepts in its judgment of separation.
136The idea is common to the whole Thomistic tradition, this terminology, however is due to Luis De Raeymaeker, Meraphysica
Generalis, editio altera (Lovain: E. Warny, 1935), 57
137 Again, this idea is common to the whole Thomistic tradition, but the terminology is due to De Raeymaeker, 57-8
138 The first of the famous “Twenty-Four Theses” of Thomism is “Potentia et actus ita dividunt ens, ut quidquid est, vel sit actus
purus, vel ex potentia et actu tamquam primis atque intrinsecis principiis necessario coalescat.” (Sacred Congregation of Studies,
decree of July 27, 1914, Acta Apostolicae Sedis 6[1914] 384.)
57
distinction between potency and act necessary to solve the problem of the one and the many and the
problem of motion, this distinction, in all of its analogical variations, is the explanation for how two
intrinsically correlative principles of a being can remain distinct while nevertheless preserving the
It is a bit contentious to call this real metaphysical distinction a real distinction. The two things
that are distinguished in such a distinction are not really separable. 139 This so-called “separability
criterion” is what many take to be the necessary and sufficient condition for a real distinction. 140 This is
not so for Thomists. According to the Thomist school, real separability is a sufficient condition for a real
distinction, but not a necessary one; there are some things that are distinct with a real distinction, but are
nevertheless not really separable, and such are the potency-act composites that we are considering here.
It is a real distinction because it verifies the conditions for a real distinction which we set out above. Our
notions of potency and act, matter and form, substance and accident, faculty and action, perfectible and
perfection cannot form a predicational unity in a judgment of composition, because their notions are
directly opposed. Therefore, they cannot have a per se identity, even though they have a per accidens
identity (in the sense described above), and therefore, they must be really distinct in our sense of the
term. The division of being into potency and act is a real, extra-mental distinction, which is recognized,
not forged, by our intellectual activity, even though two co-principles which are so-related are not really
separable.
When we turn to distinctions of reason, we consider distinctions that are made according to the
first operation of the intellect, but not according to the second. Or in other words, we have a distinction
of reason when we fail to deny some per se identity in the reality to which our concepts refer. If we fail
to deny formal identity, then we get a distinction which Thomists call a “distinction of reason
139 To be strictly precise, some pairs that are distinct by a real metaphysical distinction are really separable by the absolute pow-
58
reasoning” (distinctio rationis rationantis). If we deny formal identity but fail to deny material identity,
then we get a distinction which Thomists call a “distinction of reason reasoned” (distinctio rationis
rationati).141
entirely by our mind. Therefore, it is also called a “distinction without a foundation in the thing”
(distinctio sine fundamento in re). In this sort of distinction the terms which name the distinct concepts
are synonyms. One of the distinct concepts, or rationes, highlights an aspect of the res that it signifies in
a way that another of the distinct rationes does not. This is the distinction between “Tully” and
“Cicero,” “Dominicans” and “Order of Preachers,” “man” and “rational animal,” “essence” and
“nature,” and “being” and “good.” In each pair, both items refer to the same res in the same way, but
each item in the pair highlights something that the other does not. “Dominicans,” highlights the founder
of a religious order, whereas “Order of Preachers” highlights its function. “Man” names the res in a less
explicit way, but as we come to know it better, we can characterize it more explicitly by its definition,
“rational animal.” “Essence” highlights the principle to which it refers as that which makes the being
the kind of thing that it is, but “nature” highlights the exact same principle as that by which a thing has
its characteristic activities. As transcendental properties, “being” and “good” are co-extensive and not
The distinction of reason reasoned, on the other hand, is so-called because there is some
foundation in the thing for making a distinction of concepts. The ontological richness of the thing
demands, as it were, the formulation of distinct, refractory concepts of it in our intellect. Therefore, it is
also called a “distinction with a foundation in the thing” (distinctio cum fundamento in re) or a “virtual
distinction” (distinctio virtualis). This sort of distinction gets the last name because it describes the way
that the res provides the foundation for the distinction of concepts. The res exercises different grades of
141 John of St. Thomas, Cursus Philosophicus Ars Logica, pars ii, q. 2, a. 3; q. 3, a. 6 (Reiser ed. vol. 1, pp. 294-301, 337-343);
Cursus Theologicus disp. 4, a. 6 nn. 11-15 (Solesmes ed. vol. 1, pp. 483-5). The terms for these distinctions were not used by St.
Thomas himself, but the ideas behind them most certainly were. We will see the ideas employed below when we discuss St. Thomas’
theory of divine naming (cf. Summa Theologiae Ia, q. 13, a. 4; De Potentia q. 7, a. 6)
59
powers (virtutes), and this gradation of different powers provides the foundation in the res for the
different concepts that the intellect will form about it142 (this will become clearer with our examples
below). Unlike the distinction of reasoning reason—and this is important to note—the names which
concepts that are distinguished by the distinction of reason reasoned are not synonymous.
There are two kinds of distinction of reason reasoned, the major distinction of reason reasoned,
and the minor distinction of reason reasoned. In the major distinction, the two distinct concepts are
related to one another as more and less determined, according to varying degrees of potency and act.143
The standard example of the major distinction of reason reasoned are the so-called “metaphysical
grades” of a being.144 That is, the hierarchy of genera and species that a thing has due to its place on the
Porphyrian tree. A man, has a particular set of metaphysical grades (or genera and species) associated
with him: substance, body, living, animal, rational. In fact, we can recognize that a man performs
functions (virtutes) associated with all of these, and we can identify him with other beings on this basis.
A man is generically identical to a tree, for instance, in that they both are living, that is, they both have a
principle of self-movement. Or, equivalently, both a man and a tree have a common participation in life.
In order for the intellect to make these generic and specific identifications of a man with other beings, it
must pick out these distinct concepts. The question is, however, do these distinct concepts answer to
distinct items in the res? For Thomas, the question can be settled by predication, because judgment
conforms our mind to the real, and each of the metaphysical grades is predicated of the whole
substance. “Man is living;” “Man is an animal;” and “Man is rational;” for instance. Each concept
signifies the res in its entirety, but one in a less determined way and another in a more determined way,
like differing degrees of potency and act.145 As St. Thomas says, the genus is taken from matter, the
act is a real and extra-mental distinction. Here we are arguing that two concepts which do not answer to really distinct things are
related as potency and act. Is this a contradiction? No. Although the two concepts signify the same res, nevertheless they are two
really distinct objective concepts. Therefore one concept can have a relationship of potency to act with respect to another concept.
60
specific difference is taken from the form and the species is taken from the composite. 146 In our
example, the notion of rational is outside the notion of animal but it is a determination of it—man is an
animal in a rational way.147 Animal and rational are distinct in man by a major distinction of reasoned
reason.
understanding of the minor distinction of reasoned reason. Sometimes, when we distinguish two
concepts of the same res, the two distinguished concepts are not related to each other as determinable
and determination, potency and act. Rather, each concept signifies in act what the other concept
signifies in act, but each concept signifies one thing explicitly and distinctly, and the other thing
implicitly and “con-fusedly.”148 What does this mean? Something is included in a concept implicitly
and “con-fusedly” when it is included in act (that is, the concept is not subject to a further determination
toward this something), but the concept nevertheless does not explicate or distinctly express this
something. It is like when we see a plurality of things a long way off: we see the plurality, and included
in the plurality in act is a variety of things, but we do not perceive them distinctly. Or, it is like when we
consider a house as a whole without explicitly considering each of its rooms. The rooms are included in
our conception in act, but not explicitly. Rather, they are included implicitly and “con-fusedly.” What is
There are not too many examples of the minor distinction of reasoned reason in the created
61
realm, but it is extremely important in diviniis, because it is an essential in order to correctly explain
divine simplicity. In particular, as we will see, the divine attributes are distinct from each other and from
the divine essence by this distinction, and each of the divine Persons is distinct from the divine essence
by this distinction.150
From the standpoint of Thomistic theology, the doctrine of divine simplicity is absolutely
essential to securing both a philosophically and theologically adequate understanding of God. This
doctrine allows us to properly articulate the relationship between God and the world, and it shows us the
proper limits of our knowledge about God. Some interpreters of the Greek Fathers have suggested that
though they held a version of the doctrine, they did not hold it in quite the strict way that St. Thomas
does.151 The Palamite distinction, as it is typically construed, seems to be in some tension with divine
simplicity as it is understood by St. Thomas, but nevertheless, Palamas himself still attributes simplicity,
of a sort, to God, even though it does not seem to be compatible with what St. Thomas means by divine
simplicity.152
150 The persons, being constituted by opposed relations, however, are distinct from each other with a real distinction, of course.
151 Andrew Radde-Gallwitz, studying the doctrine of divine simplicity and divine naming in the writings of the Cappadocian Fa-
thers as it emerged from the Eunomian controversy refuses to interpret Basil of Caeserea and Gregory of Nyssa as proto-Thomists or
proto-Palamites, trying to let them speak on their own terms. The Cappadocians reject what he calls the “identity thesis”—that God
is identical with his attributes—which is held by both Eunomius and Thomas Aquinas (though Radde-Gallwitz concedes that there
are more and less sophisticated versions of the identity thesis, so that Aquinas and Eunomius did not necessarily hold it in the same
form). According to Radde-Gallwitz, Basil and Gregory make God and his attributes distinct like a thing and its properties. A “prop-
erty” here is one of the predicables, a feature of a being that flows necessarily from its essence and is thus inseparable from the es-
sence, like risibility in man. (Basil of Caesarea, Gregory of Nyssa, and the Transformation of Divine Simplicity, Oxford Early Chris-
tian Studies [New York: Oxford University Press, 2009].) Of course, we will be defending a version of the “identity thesis,” which
Radde-Gallwitz might not have considered, by using the theory of distinctions which we have developed above. Moreover, we will
elucidate the distinction between a thing’s essence and its properties, and show why a composition of essence and properties cannot
be a real distinction in God. In fact, the whole point of divine simplicity is to deny that the terms that emerge from the metaphysical
analysis of creatures can be straightforwardly applied to the incomprehensible God. As for the teachings of Basil and Gregory, it is
obviously beyond our scope to compare and contrast them with Thomas’ teaching here. But nevertheless, we can note that they share
together with Thomas—and against Eunomius—a desire to name God, but also to preserve his Otherness, by which our names for
him do not comprehend him.
152 Triads III.2.7.20-26, Triads III.2.22. In the latter text, Palamas compares the simplicity of the divine essence and energies to
the simplicity of the soul and its faculties. As the various faculties do not compromise the simplicity of the soul, neither do the vari-
ous energies compromise the simplicity of the divine essence. Palamas tries to get at what he means by simplicity by saying that in
the essence and energies he is “indivisibly divided and is united dividedly, yet in spite of this suffers neither multiplicity nor compos-
iteness.” (The One Hundred and Fifty Chapters, 81 [Sinkewicz, ed.])
62
In order to come to a better understanding of this doctrine, we need to make some clarifications.
The first thing to understand about divine simplicity is that it is not a positive property of God. Rather, it
is a shorthand way of expressing a set of denials of composition, that is, of extramental (or what a
Thomist would call “real”) distinctions in him: God is not composed of quantitative parts; God is not
composed of matter and form; God is not composed of essence and substance; God is not composed of
subject and accident; and God is not composed of essence and existence. When divine simplicity is seen
in this way, we can see one of the reasons why it is so important: it is the ontological explanation for
why God is incomprehensible:153 our modes of speaking fall short of the manner in which he exists.
In the second place, the lack of composition in God points us to a formulation of the way in
which He is: God is pure Act, with no admixture of potency. Any sort of composition or real distinction
of parts—even if they are metaphysical co-principles like act and potency which come together to form
one thing—presupposes something prior to the whole in order to account for the composing, and this
cannot be the case in God. When divine simplicity is seen in this way, we can see another of the reasons
for why it is so important: it is the ontological explanation for God’s perfection. God’s simplicity and
his perfection go hand-in-hand. Actuality indicates perfection and potency indicates perfectibility.
Denying potency in God denies his need to be perfected by another, for he is that from which everything
Sometimes the notion of God as “pure Act” is looked upon pejoratively, but it really should not
be. It is important to remember that when we say that God is “pure Act”, or what comes to the same
thing, “ipsum esse subsistens,” we are not giving an exhaustive understanding or real definition of the
essence of God, rather, we are expressing the superior way in which God exists, a mode in which
153 “When the existence of a thing has been ascertained there remains the further question of the manner of its existence, in order
that we may know its essence. Now, because we cannot know what God is, but rather what He is not, we have no means for consid-
ering how God is, but rather how He is not . . . Now it can be shown how God is not, by denying Him whatever is opposed to the
idea of Him, viz. composition, motion, and the like. Therefore (1) we must discuss His simplicity, whereby we deny composition in
Him” (Summa Theologiae Ia, q. 3, proem. Translated by the Dominican Fathers of the English Province, New York: Benziger Broth-
ers, 1947)
63
creatures do not exist.154 If “simple,” that is “incomposite,” denominates God according to the via
negativa, then “pure Act,” “ipsum esse subsistens,” or “perfect” denominate God according to the via
eminentiae.
Frankly, calling God “pure Act” is unavoidable. If we were to deny this ascription to God, it
could only be for one of three reasons: (1) God really contains some admixture of potency, (2) “act” and
“potency” is an incorrect division of being, or (3) “being” and hence “act” and “potency” really should
not be ascribed to God, but only to creatures. The first option is inadmissible for reasons that we have
seen above. The second option denies the traditional Thomistic solution to the Parmenidean problems of
motion and of the one and the many. The third option is more interesting, but still inadmissible. One
seemingly attractive way to assure the aseity of God (and to avoid the dreaded accusation of onto-
theology) has been to deny that he is “a” “being.”155 But, unfortunately, this causes problems regarding
To be sure, there is a very important truth behind the intuition which makes some say that
creatures are beings, while God is not: it is important not to think of God as just another thing or object
in the world. This is especially the case in a Neo-Platonic system, where more emphasis is placed on
formal causality than efficient causality. In such a system, creation is the multifaceted appearance of
God outside of himself as a variety of formal participations in him. Thought and being are co-extensive,
so “to be” means to be a definable thing. In such a system, claiming that God is a being would be to
mistake him for one of his creatures. However, claiming that “God is not a being” must be a special
154 “For all other names [i.e. other than “He who is”] are either less universal, or, if convertible with it, add something above it at
least in idea; hence in a certain way they inform and determine it. Now our intellect cannot know the essence of God itself in this
life, as it is in itself, but whatever mode it applies in determining what it understands about God, it falls short of the mode of what
God is in Himself. Therefore the less determinate the names are, and the more universal and absolute they are, the more properly
they are applied to God.” (Summa Theologiae, q. 13, a. 11, c. Translation by the English Dominican Fathers, New York: Benziger
Brothers, 1947.)
155Eric D. Perl, Theophany: The Neoplatonic Philosophy of Dionysius the Areopagite (Albany: State University of New York
Press, 2007), 111–3; John D. Jones, “The Ontological Difference for St. Thomas and Pseudo-Dionysius,” Dionysius 4 (1980): 119;
John D. Jones, ““(Mis?)-Reading the Divine Names as a Science: Aquinas’s Interpretation of the Divine Names of (Pseudo) Diony-
sius Areopagite,” St. Vladimir’s Theological Quarterly 52 (2008): 142; Vladimir Lossky, The Mystical Theology of the Eastern
Church, trans. Fellowship of St. Alban and St. Sergius (Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2002), 42; Vladimir Lossky,
The Vision of God, trans. Asheleigh Moorhouse, 2nd ed. (Bedfordshire: The Faith Press, 1973).
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kind of denial, for surely it cannot be a denial in the same sense as “A unicorn is not a being” or “A
four-sided triangle is not a being.”156 God must share some sort of commonality with actual existents
that he does not share with unicorns and four-sided triangles. Moreover, this commonality must be due
to the fact that God causes the existents and the existents participate in him. God must be a being in
some sense after all. The Thomist school accounts for this by emphasizing the role of efficient causality
(without neglecting the exemplary formal causality of the divine ideas) in the relationship between the
world and God. Thus, it can reason back from existents to God, and denominate him analogically ipsum
esse subsistens because he is the principle of ens commune, the proper object of the human intellect.157
So, the doctrine of divine simplicity describes God as incomposite pure Act—ipsum esse
subsistens, and thereby grounds God’s incomprehensible perfection, the perfection from which
everything else derives its perfection. The fact that God is the source of all perfection, but is not
completely graspable by us immediately raises the question of divine naming. Divine simplicity and
divine naming are two sides of the same coin, and if a person treats the former without treating the
latter, there will inevitably be problems.158 Moreover—and this is even less commonly recognized—
there are two factors involved in divine naming: (1) the way that God’s essence is named from
creaturely perfections (and there are two different ways that this happens), and (2) the way that we
distinguish between the various names that we have of God. This latter type of distinction is essential
156 Gregory Palamas, writes, “Every creature is far removed from and completely foreign to the divine nature. For if God is na-
ture, other things are not nature; but if every other thing is nature, He is not nature, just as he is not a being if all other things are
beings. And if He is a being, then all other things are not Beings And if you accept this as true also for wisdom, goodness, and in
general all things that pertain to God or are ascribed to Him, then your theology will be correct and in accordance with the saints.”
(Capita 78) Palamas explains further: “In this way it can be said that in terms of His pre-eminence God does not exist. But he who
asserts this in order to show that people who say God exists are not speaking correctly, clearly employs apophatic theology not in a
way that connotes pre-eminence, but as through it connoted deficiency and signified in this case that God has absolutely no existence
whatsoever. This is the uttermost impiety.” (The One Hundred and Fifty Chapters, 123 [Sinkewicz, ed.])
157 Another problem arises with the dogmatic language of the Church when we do not allow God to be called a being: substance,
essence, nature, energy, hypostasis, and relation are all ontologcially-laden terms—many of which are derived etymologically from
the verb “to be”—and classical orthodox theology applies them all to the Godhead. Could these words, or indeed any of our language
(which is always derived from creatures) apply properly and non-metaphorically to God if he is not “being” in the strong sense?
158 In the Summa Theologiae, Thomas treats the divine simplicity (Ia, q. 3) and perfection (Ia, q. 4) together with all of the di-
vine attributes related to it before he treats of divine naming (Ia, q. 13). The relationship between simplicity and naming is somewhat
evident here. It is even more evident in other places. De Potentia q.7 treats of the divine simplicity, and includes a discussion of the
divine naming. A similar pattern is seen in the Summa Contra Gentiles, where Book I, chapters 16-36 consist of a discussion of the
divine simplicity, followed by the divine naming.
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for a correct Thomistic interpretation of what some of the Greek Fathers have called the “things around
With respect to the first factor, there are two different ways of naming God from creatures,
because we can distinguish two sorts of perfections that are found in creatures. Some perfections
intrinsically belong to creatures, and thus have some sort of limitation implied in their very ratio. These
are the perfections that things have due to being placed in one of the ten categories. These sorts of
perfections are sometimes called “simple perfections” or “perfections secundum quid.” There is a
second sort of perfection, however, the so-called “simply simple perfections.” These are perfections
whose very ratio implies neither the limitlessness of being uncreated nor the limitation of being created,
for example, goodness, being, life, and wisdom. These may be inappropriate to a particular creature, due
to a limitation on the side of the creature (it is not fitting for a rock to be living, for example), but the
Simple perfections are said to be in God “virtually and eminently,” that is, God has the power to
realize them in creatures, because of the higher mode in which he exists. This is the mode in which any
effect exists in its equivocal cause. As we will see, we account for these perfections by means of the
divine ideas, or logoi—the ways that the divine intellect knows itself as imitable.160 These sorts of
Simply simple perfections, on the other hand are said to be in God “formally and eminently.”
That is, the ratio of the perfection can be said both of the creature and of the divine essence, but of the
divine essence in a higher way. This is the well-known Thomistic doctrine of analogy. The ratio of the
perfection is discovered in creatures. Seeing that the perfection contains nothing of creaturely limitation
in its very ratio, the intellect attempts to apply the perfection to God. However, the intellect must deny
that the perfection exists in God according to the manner that its ratio is signified in the creature (its
159 John of St. Thomas, Cursus Theologicus, disp. 5, a. 2, n. 1 (Solesmes ed., vol. 1, p. 504); Billuart, Cursus Theologiae diss. 2,
a. 2 (vol. 1, p. 50).
160 John of St. Thomas, ibid., n. 3, 10-15 (Solesmes ed. vol. 1, pp. 504-8).
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modus significandi). The perfection exists as a property in the creature, but it does not signify a feature
or property of God, but rather, the divine essence itself. Thus, the perfection in question exists in a more
eminent way in God, and is the divine essence, but our concept of this eminent perfection is inadequate
to the divine essence (of which we can never have a proper concept at all—not even in the beatific
vision). Nor can we form one common adequate concept of this perfection as it is in creatures and is the
divine essence. Any concept that we form of the perfection as it is common to both God and the creature
will conceal an irreducible diversity that can never be thought away. This “imperfect” common concept
will signify two things “con-fusedly”: both the perfection as a property of the creature and our imperfect
concept of the divine essence as the source of the creaturely perfection. This “imperfect” concept will
not, however abstract away the irreducible difference between these two. This is the so-called analogous
concept.161 This is justified by causality, of course: the perfection is primarily in God as cause and
secondarily in the creature as effect, though we name the cause from the effect, because that is what is
Note one further feature of this process of analogous naming: when we predicate the creaturely
name analogically of God, it still retains its creaturely mode of signifying (i.e. as a property), but we
know that this is not how the name applies to God (i.e. it signifies his essence). Thus, from a Thomistic
viewpoint, we always need to remember to correct our thought and language when we talk about God.
We may, for instance, speak of God’s justice, wisdom, intellect, or will. But although, these sound like
they are properties distinct from the essence, and they are just that when they are predicated of
creatures, nevertheless, they are not really properties of the essence when they are predicated of God.
Rather, they are various inadequate names for the divine essence. This is important to remember when
considering Palamite arguments. Any argument which argues from the fact that some divine names
signify properties of an essence to the conclusion that the things signified are really distinct from the
161 Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, Ia, q. 13, aa. 1-3, 5; Cajetan, The Analogy of Names, and the Concept of Being, trans.
Edward A. Buschinski and Henry J. Koren (Pittsburgh: Duquesne University, 1953): ch. 4-5, pp. 30-45.
162 Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, Ia., q. 13, a. 6.
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divine essence (like they are in creatures) commits the fallacy of begging the question. Thomists deny
that a name (which comes from creatures) that signifies as a property exists as a property in God,
because there can be no distinction between essence and property in God. This is the claim against
So, we have a variety of names which are derived from perfections that are found in creatures
(the “simply simple” perfections) as effects are found formally and eminently in God as their cause.
From these perfections, we have derived a variety of names which inadequately signify the divine
essence. The second factor in naming the simple God involves a description of how the various names
that we have for the simple divine essence are related. One of the most common misconceptions
involved in divine simplicity is to assume that the various names said of a simple God are synonyms (or,
equivalently, that they are distinct by a distinction of reason reasoning). This is not the case, however;
the divine names are not synonyms. This is because each of the divine names is derived from creatures,
where these perfections exist as distinct, although they all apply to the same divine essence. The content
of this essence is so rich that it demands expression through a multitude of refractory non-synonymous
concepts, all of which are properly said of the essence, but none of which adequately express it. 164
These refractory concepts of the divine essence are distinct from each other with a minor
distinction of reason reasoned.165 Since each of the divine names refers to the essence, and that essence
has no composition of potency and act, the names cannot be related to one another in the way that
concepts are related in the major distinction of reasoned reason. The divine mercy, for instance is not
related as potency or act to the divine justice. Nor are the divine intellect and the divine will. Rather,
163 In the One Hundred and Fifty Chapters (chapters 96-103), Gregory Palamas presents a series of objections against the real
identity of essence and energies in God, all of which can be solved by calling to mind this fact, and noting the minor distinction of
reason reasoned that obtains between the divine attributes, which we will discuss presently.
164 Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theogiae, q. 13, a. 4; Summa Contra Gentiles, I.35; De Potentia, q. 7, a. 6.
165 Strictly speaking, divine names that indicate a different formal perfection are distinct by a minor distinction of reason rea-
soned. Two divine perfections that are in the same formal line (for example, God’s power of will and his act of will) are only distinct
by a distinction of reasoning reason. Moreover, in the case of a power and its act, the power only indicates habitude to an effect, be-
cause acts are not fulfillments of potencies God—in whom there can be nothing of potency or first act. (John of St. Thomas, Cursus
Theologicus, disp. 24, a. 2, nn. 13-16 [Solesmes ed., vol. 3, p. 69]).
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since the concept of each of these attributes signifies the divine essence itself, which is pure act.
Therefore, it must include each of the other concepts, in act, but “con-fusedly” and implicitly.166 Our
(analogically purified) concept of the divine intellect signifies what our (analogically purified) concept
of the divine will, but each of the concepts explicate the divine essence differently. God’s justice is
what God’s mercy is, but our notions of it are different. However, this is not a distinction of reason
reasoning (i.e. merely a feature of our conceptualizing), because the perfections as discovered in
creatures really are formally different, establishing a fundamentum in the divine essence for making the
distinction.
There are three theses that are central to any Christian conception of God: (1) that God is
knowable from creation as a cause is knowable from its effects, but (2) that God is not just another
object in the world, but transcends all things that are merely objects in the world, and (3) therefore, he is
also incomprehensible and eludes the complete grasp of any created intellect. It is tempting to treat
aspects of God that are extra-mentally distinct. But this is just what the doctrine of divine simplicity
refuses to do. Defenders of divine simplicity hold that—precisely to preserve the otherness of God and
therefore his ability to be deeply active in all of creation—we cannot assume that our distinct concepts
map distinctly onto God. God’s otherness demands a constant critique of our creaturely concepts. The
divine essence itself is known but beyond comprehension, and active in the world but transcendent of it.
conceive of it, of producing the creature) from passive creation (the placing into existence of the
creature itself). Just as in the doctrine of divine simplicity, so too in the doctrine of creation, we must
always be vigilant to distinguish between the way that our language and concepts signify, on the one
166 John of St. Thomas, Cursus Theologicus, disp. 4, a. 6, nn. 14-15 (Solesmes ed., vol 1, p. 483-4)
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hand, and the way things actually are on the other hand. The most important fact to remember about
creation is that it is ex nihilo. That sounds like a commonplace, but the radical implications that this has
for our understanding of creation are not always fully noticed. In particular, this means that passive
creation is not a change (though we must necessarily signify it as one), and, consequently, active
creation is not a transient action (though, again, we must signify it as one), 167 nor is it an accident in
God (which, of course is a corollary of divine simplicity). The most helpful way to get a better
understanding of what creation is, is by starting with what creation is not. Therefore, we will examine
action as it is effected by created agents in created things, then we will, through a sort of via remotionis,
It is well-known that there are two kinds of action that any agent can perform: transient action
and immanent action. Transient action that passes out of the agent and into a patient, whereas immanent
action is a type of action that remains within the patient. In the creature, both of these types of action are
accidents, which is a very important feature of created action. In no creature is its action (agere or
operari) the same as its being (esse). These must be really distinct, even if, as is the case in the angelic
intellect, the acting is always taking place.168 The most basic reason for this is because a thing’s essence
is ordered to its esse, while its actions are ordered to their respective objects (which are not identical
with the thing’s essence), and to the diversity of specifying principles corresponds the diversity of
acts—in this case a thing’s esse and its various agere and operari. Moreover, every created thing, due to
its very limitation is constituted in se before it operates; its operation does not belong to its very
constitution. Notice a further corollary of these two arguments: a thing’s operative potencies are really
distinct from its essence. First, this is because each act is proportioned to that of which it is the act.
Therefore, as the esse and operari of the creature are really distinct, so too are the essence and the
operative potencies of a thing. Second, this is demanded by the very limitation of a creature: its
167 Thomas Aquinas, De Potentia Dei, q. 3, aa. 2-3; Summa Theologiae, Ia, q. 45, a. 2, ad 2
168 We must always remember, that according to our discussion of distinctions above, two components of a being can be insepa-
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operation is not intrinsic to its ratio. Its capacity to operate presupposes its essential constitution.169 In
short, esse actualizes the essence, while acts are specified by objects, which, in turn specify potencies.
Therefore, a thing’s powers and their acts are predicamental actions. The agere or operari of a
thing are predicamental accidents, because they are not caused by the very principles of the thing, but
rather are actualized within it by another agent.170 The potencies of a thing are predicamental
accidents—they are the first species of quality—but they are not predicable accidents. Rather, they are
essential properties—the fourth type of predicable—which are inseparable from the essence, but since
they are not immediately a part of the quiddity of the thing, they “dimanate” from it.
Transient action, then, is the sort of action that is initiated by an agent in a patient. The patient
has some substrate (either the substance itself, in the case of accidental change, or prime matter, in the
case of substantial change) which is in potency to an actuality which the agent possesses. Through its
contact with the patient, the agent actualizes this potency, the patient passing from a terminus a quo to a
terminus ad quem, while the substrate of the change remains constant. The transient action of a thing
belongs to a special category of accidental being, the category of action. The actual action takes place in
the patient as the latter moves from its terminus a quo to its terminus ad quem. But, on the side of the
agent, there needs to be a formal principle—an accident—which accounts for the emanation of the
effect from it. This is the role that an accident in the category of action plays. To act is to communicate
that through which the agent is in act, insofar as this is possible, action is the accidental form by which
we denominate something as acting on another. Thus, action has a threefold order: to the patient, as the
principle of its motion from terminus a quo to terminus ad quem; to the effect, as the principle of the
fieri of the terminus ad quem; and to the agent, which must pass from repose (otio) to action (agere),
169 Thomas Aquinas, De Spiritualibus Creaturis, a. 11; Summa Theologiae, Ia, q. 54, aa. 1-3; Ia, q. 77, a. 3; Ia, q. 79, a. 1;
Quaestiones Disputate de Anima, a. 12; John of St. Thomas, Cursus Philosophicus, Phil. Nat., Pars I, q. 12, a. 2 (Reiser ed. 251-7).
170 Here we are speaking on the order of nature, and so this actualization is ultimately reduced to the activity of God the first
mover. What should be noticed here is how profoundly “energetic” and indeed “synergistic” this vision is. The effect of God’s energy
(which is identical with his essence) is not only the creature’s actus essendi, but also its agere or operari. This means that God’s cre-
ated effects are themselves energies. God produces in the creature the being and acting by which the creature attains its proper per-
fection and telos. What is this but “syn-energy” in the most literal sense? Far from downplaying the theme of synergy, Thomas’s
understanding of creation, conservation, and providence are precisely accounts of how synergy takes place.
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and so needs to be brought from repose (otio) to acting (agere) by acquiring a new accidental from
through the work of another agent. What all of this means is that action has an inherent habitude to the
patient and to the effect that is to be produced in the patient. Action is the facere in the agent that
corresponds to the fieri in the patient. In fact, the action (understood as an accident in the agent) takes
its specification from these, and thus cannot be understood apart from its habitude to them. 171 Thus we
say that an action is a transcendental relation, or relation secundum dici, which serves as a foundation
for a real relation from the agent to the patient.172 As we will see, the fact that created action cannot be
understood without an intrinsic habitude to the patient and effect is one of the key differences between
Immanent action, on the other hand, is the sort of action that remains within the agent. It is a
further act and perfection of the agent, which only indicates the agent’s union with a further object.
Since immanent action has no reference to a patient or an effect in the patient, it is not of the category of
action. Rather, it is found in the first species of the category of quality, as the act of the power of a thing.
The standard examples of immanent action are the actions of sensing, knowing, and willing in the
spiritual creature. Some immanent actions are said to be virtually transient, inasmuch as the agent
produces an effect in the course of its being united to an object. For example, when the spiritual creature
171 John of St. Thomas, Cursus Philosophicus, Phil. Nat., Pars I, q. 12, a. 4, q. 14, aa. 3-4 (Reiser ed. vol. 2, pp. 263-267, 304-
315) ; Thomas Aquinas, I Sent. dist. 6, q. 4, a. 3, ad 3; Summa Theologiae, Ia, q. 54, a. 1; Ia, q. 77, a. 3; De Potentia, q. 2, a. 1; In III
Physicam, lect. 5; De Spiritualibus Creaturis, c. 9; Summa Contra Gentiles II.35
172 The division of relation of relation into real relation and relation of reason is well known. But, there is another division of re-
lations: relation secundum esse (“categorical relations” or “predicamental relations”) and relation secundum dici (“transcendental
relations”). The first type of relation is the ninth category of accident. It is the sort of accident whose entire ratio is ad aliud. For
example, “paternity” and “filiation” when said of Abraham and Isaac, respectively. When the very term and ratio in question indi-
cates habitude toward another, then it is relation secundum esse, and is an accident of some subject. Some terms and rationes, how-
ever, signify something absolute (i.e. non-relative) in themselves, but yet this thing cannot be thought of apart from some other abso-
lute thing. This is called a relation secundum dici (or, a “transcendental” relation, because it does not refer to a category). For exam-
ple, “father” and “son” when these refer to Abraham and Isaac respectively. Transcendental relations come up frequently in meta-
physics: matter and form, substance and accident, soul and body, and many other pairs are all transcendental relations. In fact, every
relation secundum esse has a foundation that is really distinct from it—a foundation which is a relation secundum dici. (Though, as
the example of matter and form shows, the converse is not true: some transcendental relations do not found predicamental relations).
This is the case with action and passion, which we are considering now. Action cannot simply be a real relation from cause to effect,
because the cause exists with at least a logical (if not a temporal) priority to the effect. Rather action in the agent and passion in the
patient must be understood together as facere and fieri, causans and causatum. That is, they are relations secundum dici, which pro-
vide the foundations for a relation secundum esse from the agent to the patient and from the patient to the agent. St. Thomas makes
the distinction between relation secundum esse and relation secudum dici in Summa Theologiae Ia, q. 13, a. 7, ad 1. For a more com-
plete description of relation, see John of St. Thomas, Cursus Philosophicus, Ars Logica, pars ii, q. 17 (Reiser ed. vol. 1, pp. 574-
607).
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understands with its intellect, it produces a concept. The key thing to notice in such a formally
immanent but virtually transient action is that, unlike normal transient action, the effect produced is not
the object of the action, nor is the action in any way specified by it. The goal of the action is not to
produce the effect, but the effect is produced in the process of attaining some other object. The action is
related to this transient effect eminently. 173 The goal of the act of understanding, for instance, is not to
produce a concept, but this happens in the course of understanding. Notice that this means that there is
consideration brings us closer to understanding what creation is, for as we shall see, it is best understood
as a formally immanent but virtually transient action. Due to the divine simplicity, however, it will not
As we have said, the most important thing to remember about passive creation is that it is ex
nihilo. It is the placing of the whole of the being extra causas, with absolutely no presupposed subject.
This has radical consequences for our understanding of creation, for this is not how we describe creation
with our language. Our language leads us to think of creation as a sort of passage from non-being as a
terminus a quo to being as a terminus ad quem. But, of course, non-being is not a presupposed subject
from which some actuality is adduced. Further, this fact has implications for thinking about active
creation. Recall that transient action on the side of the agent has an intrinsic habitude to the patient. This
is not possible in creation, where there is no patient and no passage from terminus a quo to terminus ad
quem. Rather, there is only the simple placing into existence of the effect.174
This already begins to suggest that God is “related” to the things that he creates in a manner that
is quite different from the way that created agents are related to the effects that they induce through their
transient actions. The patient and the effect to be produced in the patient specify the action of the
173 St. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, Ia, q. 27, a. 1, c.; Ia, q. 54, a. 1, ad 3; Summa Contra Gentiles I.100; I Sent dist. 8,
q. 4, a. 3, ad 3; John of St. Thomas Cursus Philosophicus, Phil. Nat., Pars I, q. 12, a. 2; q. 14, a. 3 (Reiser ed. vol. 2, p. 256-7, 308)
174 Thomas Aquinas, De Potentia, q. 3, a. 2; Summa Contra Gentiles II.17; Summa Theologiae Ia, q. 45, a. 2, ad 2 et 3; John of
St. Thomas, Cursus Theologiae, disp. 38, a. 2, n. 19, 37, 48 (Solesmes ed., vol. 4, p. 396-413)
73
created agent. We have seen that no patient can specify the creative act of God, because there is no
patient. There is, however, an effect. Can the act of creation be specified by this?175 No, it cannot.
Creatures, in fact, are not really the objects of the divine intellect and will—or, at least, they are not the
The primary formal object of the divine intellect and the divine will is the divine essence itself.
That, is, the divine acts of knowing and loving take their specification from the divine essence, because
the divine essence could be the only adequate object of these “powers” in God. Any other object would
not only imply composition in God, but it would place limitations on God’s knowing and loving.
Creatures are secondary material objects of the divine intellect and will. God knows all of the ways that
he is imitable. These are the divine Ideas, or the logoi, and they are not really distinct from the divine
Intellect. (In fact, they are distinct from the act of the divine intellect by a distinction of reasoning
reason). In knowing his intellect to be participable in certain ways, he wills certain of them inasmuch as
they are reflections of his goodness. God’s executive power for creating is really identical with God’s
essence, intellect, and will. In fact, this executive act is conceived of us in the formal line of God’s
intellect. It is analogous to the act of imperium that is performed by our practical intellect. (This
highlights the fact that God’s creation is a production of his wisdom, and not sheer voluntarism). As
such, it presupposes God’s will considered as a free act with respect to creatures.176
This determination of his will towards creatures is non-necessary, because God’s act of will is
adequately specified and attained without them.177 Here is a deep mystery. God’s act of will is necessary
and identified with His being, yet it is responsible for the non-necessary emanation of creatures.178 We
175 Notice that an act of creating on the side of God which is specified by the created effect that it produces is essentially a Pal-
physics is the procession or derivation of a contingent many from the one. The only way to account for such contingency is to recog-
nize the personal nature of the One, with the plurality of creatures coming from the choice of God’s will, as this is informed by His
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will have more to say about this below, 179 but for now, we can highlight two salient points. First, the
fact that something is the case immutably and from all eternity does not imply that it is absolutely
necessary. Second, God’s willing of creatures works differently from our willing inasmuch as it is not a
power that needs to be further determined by an object in order to be actualized. Rather, prior to the
willing of creatures, it is already fully actualized determined, and thus is eminent over the creatures that
it wills.
Thus, not only is active creation not specified by a patient, it is also not specified by the created
effect. In fact (and this is important in dialogue with Palamites), the act of creation on the side of God is
not at all analogous to an accident in the category of action which we find in the created transient actor.
Rather, active creation is a work of God’s intellect and will, and in God, these acts are formally
immanent, but virtually transient. Creation is what happens as a product of God’s very activity of
knowing and loving himself. The acts of knowing and loving are related eminently to the production of
creatures. Thus, unlike created agents, whose action has an inherent relation to the patient and the effect
On the side of the creature, there is only the placing of the effect outside of its causes.
Though there is no patient which can be transcendentally related to the agent, nevertheless the very
being of this effect as caused is a transcendental relation to the Creator, which is the foundation for a
predicamental relation towards God. Speaking most properly, the term “creation” most properly denotes
this predicamental relation of absolute dependence of the creature on God. This means that, although
creation is an eternal activity on the side of God, nevertheless God is denominated as a creator from
time. Nor is it a contradiction that an eternal action have a temporal effect, because creatures are
products of God’s intellect and will, and thus they are placed into being in accordance with the
intellect. But the acts of God’s intellect and will do not only have bearing on the created world, but also are important to the trans-
cendent inner life of God Himself. How to coordinate these two aspects of God’s intellect and will, without compromising either
God’s presence in the world or his transcendence of it is the central topic of debate between Palamites and Thomists, when this de-
bate is stripped of extraneous polemical baggage.
179 One which we will respond to in greater detail in Chapter Three, when we reply to the criticisms of David Bradshaw.
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ordination of God’s intellect and will.180
The fact that God is denominated creator from time, and that there is a real relation from the
creature to God, but not God to the creature presents us with an interesting (and at first,
counterintuitive) corollary: we can formulate a notion of God’s act or acts of creation, but this notion is
necessarily subsequent to our understanding of the existence of the creature and its relation of
dependence to God, and it is only distinct from the divine will by a distinction of reason reasoning. 181
When we think the creature as related to God, our mind is lead to make some distinctions of reason
reasoning: in view of the existence of the creature and its relationship to God, we can distinguish a
logos of the creature in the divine intellect, as a particular imitation of the divine essence; we can
distinguish an ordination of God’s practical intellect; we can distinguish a free act of God’s will with
respect to the creature; and we can distinguish a reciprocal relation (of reason, of course) from God to
the creature. It may sound strange to say that God’s creative action is subsequent to the creature, but
nevertheless it is true. We cannot understand a relationship of participation until there is something that
actually is participating. We have repeated the reason several times: passive creation is not a fieri in a
pre-supposed subject, and so active creation is not like created agency, but rather is something that
happens as a part of God’s knowing and loving himself, actions which are formally immanent, but
virtually transient.
When we take all of the above doctrines together, it might seem like we have over-emphasized
180 Thomas Aquinas, De Potentia, q. 1, a. 1, ad 8; q. 3, a. 3; q. 3, a. 17 ad 12, 26; Summa Theologiae Ia, q. 45, a. 3; Summa Con-
tra Gentiles II.35; John of St. Thomas, Cursus Theologicus, disp. 38, a. 2 (Solesmes ed., vol. 4, p. 396-413)
181 As we will see when we consider the work of Eric Perl in Chapter Three, this is perhaps the key difference between Pala-
mites and Thomists in their understanding of creation. Antoine Lévy has claimed that Palamas and Thomas have articulated under-
standings of the relationship between God and the world that are doctrinally equivalent, but are exact inverses of each other, and this
has given rise to two different religious worlds. The Palamite view is more theocentric: it starts with God and considers the proces-
sion of many creatures as so many participations in him. The Thomistic view is more creation-centric: it starts with the plurality of
creatures, and looks up to their unified Source. What we are arguing here shows something of what Lévy means. (Antoine Lévy, “An
Introduction to Divine Relativity: Beyond David Bradshaw’s Aristotle East and West,” The Thomist 72 [2008]: 173–231.)
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God’s transcendence over the world at the expense of his active presence in it. God is not really related
to the world and creatures are not objects of his intellect and will. God seems uninvolved in the world,
and creatures seem relatively autonomous from him. The doctrine of divine simplicity seems to be the
major culprit. This doctrine forces us to deny many features of God that are found in created actors,
features by which these created actors are actively present to their effects. Does pointlessly exalting God
as pure Act and ipsum esse subsistens make him too aloof?
No, it does not. In fact, not only does the doctrine divine simplicity preserve God’s
incomprehensibility, perfection, and transcendence, it also precisely the doctrine that allows us to
explain how God can be radically present to a creature and active in it in a way that no created agent can
possibly be present to its effect. God is pure act and ipsum esse subsistens. Now every agent acts insofar
as it is in act to produce its proper effect. Therefore, the very esse of the creature is God’s proper
effect.182 In fact, it is precisely because creation is not a change (i.e. it does not presuppose a subject, but
gives being even to the subject) and because God works the most universal, and hence most intimate
effect in the creature—its very being—that he is intimately present to it. A creature remains in existence
because of God’s continual action on it.183 To fully appreciate how radically this makes God present,
consider the fact that there are two types of participation. On the one hand, an effect can depend on an
agent and on a subject, the agent works on the subject to transmute it and educe the effect by which the
thing participates in the cause. This must happen through some virtue which is diffused from the agent.
On the other hand, an effect can depend on the agent totally and in every way, so that it does not also
depend on a subject. In this case it is impossible for the agent to be “distant” from the effect, because
there is no distinct subject on which the agent acts. There is no virtue diffused from the agent which
reaches out to a subject to produce an effect. Rather, the agent just acts, and the effect comes to be, so
willing the very being of the creature, there is nothing there for him to act on. We sometime speak of creation as a “gift,” but even
this does not do the concept justice, because unlike other instances of gift-giving, there is nothing presupposed to which something
can be given.
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that the very substance or supposit of the agent is conjoined to the effect. 184 God should not be thought
of as “reaching out” from himself to create the creature. Simply through his knowing and willing, the
creature comes to be in dependence on him. “He spoke and it sprang into being.”
Recalling that creation is the result of God’s formally immanent but virtually transient acts of
knowing and loving also helps to highlight this point. Consider the difference between God’s actions ad
extra and angels’ actions ad extra. Angels effect changes by their acts of knowing and loving, which are
formally immanent but virtually transient, as well. But the way they work their effect is still radically
different than the way God works his. Angels do not cause the very esse of the thing, and therefore their
action is a transmutation, a change, of a pre-existing subject. Therefore, they act at a “distance,” from
the subject. Their action “reaches out” to a subject to “act on” it. There is some virtue distinct from their
substance by which they act on their patient. God cannot act in this way. Since he does not act on a
subject to change it. Rather, he places the subject in being in its very esse, (which is the most intimate
thing about it), which makes it dependent on him, and thus he is radically present to it.185
Moreover, as we have seen, one of the implications of divine simplicity is that the divine
essence alone is the proper object of God’s knowledge and love. Sometimes people find this account of
God's knowledge and love for creatures to be unappealing. God's love for the creature is almost an
afterthought, so the thinking goes, He does not need the creature, and He only loves it because it has
some formal resemblance to Himself, which is what God is really in love with. But actually, this
account of God's love for creatures is not so grim; quite the contrary. This line of objection fails because
it takes God's love to be univocal with human love, and not analogical. The fact that God is the Good
itself makes all the difference. Once we realize this, the objections disappear. What God loves in the
creature is precisely the unique way that goodness is present in it—a goodness which it has because
God has given it a share in His own goodness. And He gives it such a share, not because of any need on
184 John of St. Thomas, Cursus Theologicus, disp. 8, a. 1, nn. 21-25 (Solesmes ed., vol. 2, pp. 8-9); Thomas Aquinas, I Sent., d.
37, q. 1, a. 1, ad 4
185 John of St. Thomas, Cursus Theologicus, disp. 8, a. 1, n. 9 (Solesmes ed., vol. 2, pp. 4-5)
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his part, not because He has any designs on the creature, but simply because He wants to communicate
His goodness. What we have here is not some caricature of “Greek metaphysics,” but a profound
Christian insight.186 And, moreover, the effect of this love is to produce in the creature an activity (or
energy), a loving response to the Good, by which it the creature is united to the Good—whether that
activity is on the order of natural appetite, sensitive appetite, or will (by nature or by charity).187
A Note on Deification
We have been especially concerned here to examine how God’s radical presence to every
creature is the natural consequence of the very act of creation. But, of course, an important part of the
Palamite controversy is its strongly realistic account of deification, something which is claimed to be
lacking in Thomism. The common reason given for this is because St. Thomas’ account of “created
grace”, taken as an accident of the soul, cannot account for a real participation in the life of God. The
problem here is twofold: a misunderstanding about what created grace is and an incomplete
understanding of what deification consists of in the teachings of St. Thomas. Here we would like to
There is a special mode of God’s presence that is available to the rational creature. 188 This is
through grace and deification. Although the formal object of created powers of intellect and will are
being and goodness respectively, nevertheless each power does have its adequate and connatural object.
The adequate and connatural object of the intellect is anything that the intellect is capable of having an
intelligible species of (in men, of course, this is the quiddity of a sensible thing, but in angels, it is the
intelligible species that they are created with). The adequate object of the will is any object that the
186 This has not gone unnoticed by Christian thinkers. Pseudo-Dionysius, for instance, explains this insight in the categories of
eros and agape, both of which he applies to God (Divine Names, IV.12, PG 3.711b; IV.13, PG 3.712b). In God, eros (ecstatic, desir-
ing love) and agape (benevolent love) meet, precisely because He is the Good itself. When the Good Himself draws the creature to
Itself (eros), He is also, by the very same “act” producing the creature's own proper good (agape).
187 Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, q. 26, a. 2
188 Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, Ia, q. 8, a. 3, ad 4; Ia, q. 43, a. 3
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creature can so conceive and thus desire. But since the formal objects of these powers are being and
good, they are still, in principle, able to be elevated to attain an even higher object, namely God as he is
in himself. This ability to be elevated to enjoy God in himself is called an “obediential potency”189 This
obediential potency is reduced to act in the creature through grace, the virtues, and the gifts, and results
in the enjoyment of the very persons of the Trinity. 190 It is due to this aptitude for knowing and loving
God, and even moreso the actual knowing and loving God that a person is said to be after the image and
likeness of God.191
How does this work? The fundamental principle that we need to recognize is that God’s love
works differently than ours. Our love is a response to the goodness of a thing. God’s love does not
presuppose the goodness of the thing, but places the goodness in the thing. We have already seen this in
the order of nature: As a diffusion from God’s knowledge and love of himself, he produces creatures
contingently from nothing, and as First Mover, in willing their good, he reduces their potencies to
actuality so that each creature can realize its proper perfection through its activities.
Now, in addition to this common love that he has for all creatures, he has a special love for the
rational creature, by which he desires for it a good that is above its nature—a share in his very inner
self. This special love of God produces new effects in the rational creature by which it comes to share in
this life. Ultimately, the rational creature will attain this life through its proper activities, a knowing and
a loving that have God as he is in himself as their object. (These actions will be produced under the
189 Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, IIIa, q. 11, a. 1
190 This distinction between nature and grace has come under a great deal of criticism in recent times. Often, it is felt that at-
tempting to conceive a rational nature is impossible apart from its teleological ordering to knowing and loving God as he is in him-
self. Trying to do so—and thinking about a possible “pure nature” of the rational creature—would leave that nature dangerously
autonomous from God, and would make any supernatural relationship with him extrinsic, and hence uninteresting and unimportant.
But, this simply is not true on the account of creation that we have given above. Even apart from any ordering through knowledge
and love to God as he is in himself, the creature is radically dependent on God for both its being and acting. The creature’s proper
activities (energies) are brought about through God’s intimate, energizing activity on the creature, directing it to its connatural ends.
We do not need grace to make nature good! The reason for the criticism of the distinction between grace and nature seems to be that
the concept of nature is not properly understood. Properly understood, “nature” is a dynamic principle of motion and rest, whose
activities are under the intimate direction of the providence of God—even before grace is added. Some critics of the concept of a
“pure nature” seem to have a more modern concept of nature in mind, where nature is inert, independent, and stripped of its own
teleology. On this view, grace has to do all the work of giving the rational creature all of its dynamic ordering. In fact, the distinction
between nature and grace serves precisely the purpose of articulating what happens in deification. After all, something has to be be-
fore it can be deified.
191 Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, Ia, q. 93, aa. 4, 7.
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influence of actual grace). But, these acts need to come from principles proportionate to producing
them. Proximately, this means qualifying the powers of intellect and will (and the irascible and
concupiscible appetites) so that they are proportioned to performing these supernatural acts. (This is the
job of the theological and cardinal virtues, with the gifts of the Holy Spirit) Radically, this means that
the soul itself needs to be qualified so that it may be of such a nature as to have these sorts of elevated
acts fitting to it. (This is sanctifying grace). These actions allow us to enjoy the divine persons.192
From this description, we can clear up a few misconceptions about deification in Thomism.
First, the Thomistic understanding of deification includes not only “created grace,” but also the
theological virtues, infused moral virtues, the gifts of the Holy Spirit, the missions of the Trinity by
which we are given the divine persons themselves to enjoy.193 If it does not include all of these, then it is
Second, the way in which sanctifying grace renders us partakers in the divine nature is a special
mode of participation. It is a physical and formal type of participation, 194 like the way that creatures
participate in God’s simply simple perfections. But, the ratio of simply simple perfections is indifferent
to created or uncreated. This is not the case with the very nature of God which is ipsum esse subsistens
or pure act. This formality cannot be subjectively in the very soul of the rational creature. Therefore,
sanctifying grace makes us participants in the divine nature by so elevating our being and acting that
God as he knows and loves himself can also be the proper object of our knowing and loving.195 The
192 Thomas Aquinas, De Veritate q. 27, aa. 1,2,6; Summa Contra Gentiles III.150-1; Summa Theologiae Ia, q. 43, a. 3, c. et ad 1;
Ia, q. 43, a. 5, ad 2; IIIa, q. 110, aa. 1-4
193
John of St. Thomas makes an interesting observation about how grace gives us a participation in the divine nature. God is
simple pure act, which means that he is entirely in second act without distinction. (That is, according to our mode of understanding it
is formally constituted by its intellegere.) But, it eminently contains all of the rationes of first act. Thus, our participation in the di-
vine nature is spread out across all of our faculties, though it is radically in the essence of the soul through sanctifying grace. (Cursus
Theologicus, in IIIam, disp. 22, a. 1, n. 10 [Paris: Vivès, 1883-6, vol. 6, p. 794])
194 That is, the participant is a participant due to something in its very nature and not from some extrinsic denomination (i.el it is
physical, not moral participation), and the participant shares something that is in the participated formally and eminently, and not just
virtually and eminently (i.e. it is formal and not virtual participation). John of St. Thomas, Cursus Theologicus, In IIIam, disp. 22, a.
1, n. 5 (Vivès ed., vol. 6, p. 792)
195John of St. Thomas, Cursus Theologicus in IIIam, disp. 22, a. 1, n. 12 (Vivès ed., vol. 6, p. 795-6). This is a real doctrinal dif-
ference with Palamism. But we must ask the Palamite: if it is the divine energy that deifies by becoming enhypostatized in the crea-
ture, does this produce an effect in the creature at the level of action? If so, what is the object of that action?
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effect of God’s uncreated love for us produces created effects (energies and habitus) within us, which
enable us to return to God as friend, through our acts of knowing and loving. 196
Third, there is a careful balance between uncreated energy of God and created energy. The effect
of God’s uncreated energy is a subordinated, created energy in the creature. When the fire heats the iron,
the iron glows with its own proper light and heat, but subordinated to the light and heat of the fire. But,
this analogy still limps in a way. The iron may still retain its light and heat when pulled out of the fire.
The created energies, being educed from obediential potencies of the soul, will disappear if the
uncreated love of God is withdrawn. It is frequently suggested that Palamism has uncreated divine
energies, whereas Thomism has created grace. This is inaccurate. Thomists hold that the divine energy
is uncreated, and in fact, is the very divine essence. Created grace is the subordinated, dependent effect
of the uncreated energy, and is itself an energy of the creature which renders the creature radically capax
Dei through its activities (so much so, that the divine themselves are given to the creature to enjoy). The
theory of deification in the Thomistic school is, in fact, a carefully worked out description of the
synergy that takes place between God’s uncreated energies and our created energies.
Fourth, the Thomistic teaching is commonly criticized for making sanctifying grace, the virtues,
and the gifts accidents of the soul. This can make grace seem extrinsic. But the problem here is more a
metaphysical misconception about the proper relationship between a substance and its accidents. They
should not be thought of as two distinct realities, like icing on a cake. Rather, substance and accident are
transcendental relations, two correlative principles of a being, mutually related as potency and act,
respectively. That is, accidents actualize the whole of a substance in a particular way, they cause the
substance to be such. Therefore, they are not properly said to be beings, but they are said to be of a
196 Thomas Aquinas, Summa Contra Gentiles, III.151. The whole chapter is beautiful, but especially relevant here is, “The form
whereby a thing is ordered to an end makes the thing somewhat like the end. For instance, a body acquires through the form of
weight a likeness and conformity to the place toward which it is moved naturally. But we showed that sanctifying grace is a certain
form in man whereby he is ordered to his ultimate end, Who is God. So, man achieves the likeness to God through grace. Now, like-
ness is the cause of love, for everything loves its like (See Sirach 13:19). Therefore, by grace man is made a lover of God.”
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being.197 Thus, to call grace an accident implies no extrincisim.
So, if the divine energies are God, inasmuch as he is active in the world, what role do they play
in Thomism? We can think of the energies in the line of God’s relation to creatures. A divine energy is
the foundation on the side of God for his relation to a creature or created effect. It plays the role of a
transcendental relation to the creature, which founds God’s predicamental relation to the creature. The
creature’s being as participated and caused is the transcendental relation to God that founds the
predicamental relation to God which is creation. The energy corresponds to this—it is God taken as
cause of the being. However, note two things. First, the divine energy only founds a relation of reason
toward the creature. Like this relation of reason, the divine energy is distinct from the divine essence
only by a distinction of reason reasoning. The divine energy is just our concept of the divine essence
when we take it as connoting a relation to the creature. Second, like the relation toward the creature
which it founds, the divine energy is logically posterior to the creature. We discern a divine energy as a
cause (and the logos which it instantiates) only after we see the creature as caused.198 This is like the sun
and its rays. The sun’s shining is an activity that flows from the principles of its essence, but there is
only a ray of sunlight after there is a point or an object that is illuminated. Indeed, different rays from
the sun are discerned by the different points or objects that they illuminate. The analogy limps however,
because God does not act at a distance from the creature. Nor is his power distinct from his essence, his
intellegere, or his velle. Nor is there a patient on which God works; he either creates with no
presupposed subject, or educes grace, the virtues, and the gifts out of an obediential potency.
197 Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, q. 110, a. 2, ad 3. Luis De Raeymaeker is especially good on the correct relationship of
accident to substance. The Philosophy of Being: A Synthesis of Metaphysics, trans. Edmund H. Ziegelmeyer (St. Louis: Herder,
1954), 170–94; Metaphysica Generalis (Louvain: Warny, 1935), 158–79, 400–425.
198 Again, just because we can think of an energy as distinct from the essence, this does not mean that they are really two differ-
ent things. Especially in the case of God. Divine simplicity is the ontological foundation for assuring that God himself is known, but
always more unknown, transcendent of creation, but for just that reason able to be radically and intimately present to it.
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Chapter Three:
Gregory Palamas notes that there are works of God (providence foreknowledge, will,
contemplation of himself, etc.) which are without beginning and are uncreated, but are not the essence.
They are, rather, energies which manifest the essence.199 But, this does not violate his simplicity, even as
the distinction between a soul and its faculties does not violate its simplicity. 200 Palamas says that the
energies are accidents of a sort, but unlike (predicable) accidents, they do not come and go from their
subject. He seems to suggest that the energies of God are essential properties of the essence,201 which
flow from the principles of the essence, and are therefore inseparable from it.202 Thus, they do not
There have been a variety of defenses of claims like these. In this chapter, we will look at some
of the more prominent ones. First, we will examine some of the objections of Mark of Ephesus, a writer
who stood at the very end of the classical Palamite controversy. His objections do not take much
account of Thomistic theology. Modern writers who favor Gregory Palamas do so in a climate where
Western theology is better known and more thoroughly studied. It is also a climate where Thomism has
profoundly shaped the discourse in philosophical theology. We examine two such modern views: Eric
Perl on the superiority of a Palamite account of creation over a Thomistic one, and David Bradshaw,
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who argues that divine simplicity is incompatible with divine freedom.
As we saw in chapter one, although there were definitive pro-Palamite settlements in 1351 and
1368, debates about Palamism flared up off and on until almost the end of the empire. After the
condemnation of Gregoras in 1351 and the translation work of Demetrios Kydones and his circle
starting in 1354, the enemies of the Palamites became more associated with the West, and particularly
with the Dominicans and Thomas Aquinas, who was taken to be the chief representative of the Western
theological tradition.
Coming at the very end of the imperial period was the monk Mark Eugenikos (c. 1392-1445),
who eventually became the bishop of Ephesus (1437-1445), and led the anti-unionist party among the
Greeks at the Council of Florence, engineering the rejection of that Council in the East. Mark himself
was a teacher with extensive literary gifts. He wrote many polemical works as well as liturgical
compositions.203
Mark was certainly aware of the anti-Palamite arguments that came from the West, and Thomas
Aquinas in particular.204 He seems to take a strong pro-Palamite stance, where he defends the real
distinction between essence and energies with a straightforward epistemological realism (i.e. distinct
concepts signify distinct realities). Though, he seems to back off from this in places, admitting some
sense in which the distinction is conceptual (ἐπίνοια).205 We have three edited works by Mark in which
he defends the Palamite distinction.206 Two of them are refutations of Manuel Kalekas’ work On the
203 For a complete biography, see Nicholas Constas, “Mark Eugenikos,” in La théologie byzantin et sa tradition, vol. 2 (Turn-
hout: Brepolis, 2002), 411–64, as well as Pilavakis, “Markos Eugenikos’ ‘First Antirrhetic.’” Pilavakis is quite favorable to Mark, but
opinions about him can get heated. See, for example, Joseph Gill, Personalities of the Council of Florence (Oxford: Oxford Universi-
ty Press, 1964).
204 Demetracopoulos, “Palamas Transformed,” 342–3.
205 Ibid., 342–8.
206 Constas, “Mark Eugenikos,” 424–5.
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Essence and Energy (which was Kalekas’ critical commentary on the Tome of 1351).207 The third, the
Syllogistic Chapters Against the Heresies of the Akindynists Concerning the Distinction of the Divine
Essence and Energy was published at about the same time as the two Antirrhetics (the 1430’s). A
The Syllogistic Chapters is divided into three sections: on the distinction between the divine
essence and energies (chapters 1-29), “On the Divine Light” (chapters 30-44), and “On Spiritual
Charisms” (chapters 45-64). We will be interested in the first section. This section seems to recapitulate
many standard pro-Palamite arguments, using standard types of Byzantine arguments. For example, he
tries to reduce his opponents position to heresy or paganism (chapters 2, 4, 5, 8, 27). Although Thomas
Aquinas is mentioned once (in chapter 14), and there is another acknowledgment of Latin teaching in
chapter 15, there does not seem to be much engagement with or incorporation of the sort of outlook that
we outlined in the last chapter. As such, many of Mark’s arguments have a straightforward response
For example, in chapter 2, Mark argues that the identity of the essence and the energy implies
that God’s energy is eternal like the essence, and that creation is therefore eternal. The reply is that the
energy is indeed eternal, but creatures are a product of God’s intellect and will, and therefore come to be
in time in accordance with these. In chapter 3, Mark gives two arguments. The second says that the
essence and the energy cannot be generically or specifically identical, so if they are identical, they must
be numerically identical. But they do not have identical concepts, therefore, they cannot be numerically
identical. The Thomist would reply that one reality can indeed be referred to under two concepts,
especially God, to whom all concepts derived from creatures are inadequate. In chapter 11, Mark argues
that the logoi are comprehensible to us, while the essence is not, and that the logoi cannot be creatures
(then they would be the Platonic Forms). Therefore the logoi have to be distinct from the essence. The
207 Pilavakis, “Markos Eugenikos’ ‘First Antirrhetic.’” Pilavakis’ edition of Mark’s Second Antirrhetic aainst Manuel Calecas
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Thomist would reply that the logoi are not really distinct from the divine essence, as they are
participant in God. Finally, in chapter 24, Mark succinctly argues, “If the very things which God is
according to essence are the very things which he gives to us according to grace, then these things
are not the essence of God, for he gives a share of his essence to no one.” The reply is the
explanation given in the last chapter on how grace makes us a partaker of the divine nature: we
Perhaps the most philosophically astute defense of the Palamite distinction is due to Eric Perl. 208
Perl has noticed that many of the objections to Palamas’ distinction have come not from a careful
reading of Palamas, but rather, of his neo-Palamite defenders, such as Lossky and Meyendorff, who
have not always described the metaphysics of Palamism correctly. Perl focuses on Palamas himself, but
sanitizing him of his more extreme formations which have found so many vociferous detractors. This is
actually helpful, because it helps us get at the matters that are truly central to debate between Palamites
and Thomists.
For Perl, Palamas perfected the neo-Platonic theory of participation. Earlier forms of neo-
Platonism posited mean terms (the Forms or participations) between “God,” the participated and the
participants in the world. A form or participation was (as Plotinus called them) a “one-many.” But this
The fact is that the theory of participation simply does not allow for mean terms. On the
one hand, the entire Form, whole and the same, must be present to each an devery
participant in order to fulfil its role as a one-over-many . . . Participation can be nothing
less than the possession of the whole higher reality. On the other hand, in order that it
208 Perl, “St. Gregory Palamas and the Metaphysics of Creation,” Dionysius 14 (1990), 105-130.
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may be independent of all its participatnts, the Form must be apart from them all.209
For Perl, Palamas’ theory of the divine energies is a correction of Plotinian and Procline neo-
Platonism which is superior on purely philosophical grounds. For Palamas, the energies are God’s
activities with respect to creatures. Thus they are the logoi, Forms, or paradigms by which the world is
made. As such they are (or at least imply) God’s real relations to creatures. But they are not “lower
divinities,” hypostases, or intermediaries between the imparticipable essence and creatures. They are
participations of God—each one being a sort of different “window” into the divine essence--and as such
each can be, in some sense, identified with him, though he transcends them all. Not every real
distinction is a distinction between rem and rem. The divine essence and energies are related as mind
and understanding. This distinction is necessary so that God’s real relations to the world (which are or
are founded on the energies) do not compromise his transcendence. This view of creation emphasizes
God as formal (and not efficient cause): “He causes them to be by causing them to be what they are, by
These causal powers are differentiated according to the differences of creatures. They have no
separate subsistence, but exist only as causes of creatures and relative to them. Thus they cannot be
(logically) prior to creatures. But they cannot be posterior to creatures either, 211 or they could not count
for the creatures’ diversity. The only option left is to say that the energies are multiplied along with the
production of creatures, though this of course remains eternal on the side of God. The divine energies
just are God’s acts of creating, multiplied along with the creature, but outside of time on the side of
God. In order to understand creation properly, there must be an actual multiplicity of formal
participations of the essence eternally related to created effects, which come to be and pass away in
time. “In short, if the plurality of ideas is to be truly possible, it must be actual; and if it is not actual, it
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is not possible.”212 We know that there have to be logoi, or energies, or relations of this sort, because the
only way we can give a fully realist account of creation is by holding the antinomy of God as
imparticipable but fully participated in by creatures, and in order to do this we need a distinction
between the essence and the energies of God as Palamas understands it.
But is this really the case? In the last chapter, we saw some of the ways that Thomists try to
answer the same questions. In short, Thomists try to give an account of creation as participatory in a
strongly realist ontological sense as well, but without supposing some sort of plurality on the side of
God. Thomists do this by emphasizing the role of efficient cause (as opposed to formal cause) in
creation. But, efficient causes work by bringing into being a formal likeness of the cause in the effect.
Omne agens agit simi simile, after all. And this axiom needs to be understood analogically for natural
and intelligent agents. God, of course is the latter sort, who produces creatures as similitudes of himself
as he knows and loves himself. Thus, there is no need for an actual plurality of logoi or energies on the
side of God, because creatures are known and willed virtually transiently in God’s immanent acts of
knowing and loving himself. Moreover, the relation between agent and resemblance in the effect is a
fully dynamic one, especially in the case of creation where there is no presupposed subject.
Perl’s approach has problems of its own. In the first place, it is hard to determine just what the
ontological status of this actualized plurality of logoi-energies on the side of God is. If they are not
mediating realities in themselves, and they are not in some sense identical with the divine essence, then
what are they? Moreover, is it really intelligible to say that these energies are multiplied along with
creatures, though on the side of eternity?213 Can causes be multiplied in their very act of causing?
Finally, and perhaps most seriously, is Perl’s account able to account for the contingency of creatures? If
the logoi or energies are themselves contingent, then it seems that they have to be a product of a choice
that God made through his intellect and will. But then they are created. If they are multiplied by the
does not mean that he abides unchangingly from even before there was time. God did not (or does not) exist before time began.
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creatures of which they are the formal participations, then it seems that just this collection of creatures is
necessary. Perhaps the Thomistic solution of presenting God as an (analogically) intelligent agent
creating after the manner of an efficient cause (like an artisan) has something to be said for it after all.
Is divine simplicity compatible with divine freedom? David Bradshaw points out very clearly
Does this not mean that if God were to will something different, then he would be
something different? Since among the things that God wills is the existence of creatures,
such a result would be at odds with the insistence of both Augustine and Aquinas that
God's essence does not depend on his act of creation.214
Bradshaw thinks that we can avoid this problem if we deny the Thomistic doctrine of divine
simplicity. If we instead assert a distinction between God's essence and energies ex parte Dei, apart
from our mode of conceiving and signifying, then we will have a way of explaining the divine liberty.
This is because, if this distinction is made, God could remain the same in His essence, even while being
However, drawing such a distinction between God's essence and energies really does not solve
the problem. If the energies could have been different from what they in fact are, then there would be a
214
Bradshaw, Aristotle East and West, 247. It is interesting to note that Bradshaw is not the first person to have pointed out this
problem. In fact, it is a classical one for the Thomistic tradition. In the seventeenth century, the Carmelites of Salamanca wrote, “The
explanation of the quiddity of the free acts of God is of the highest difficulty, and thus many of the most weighty doctors teach that it
is not possible to have an understanding of it in this life; it is reserved for heaven.” (Cursus Theologicus [Paris: Vivès, 1876], vol. 2,
tract. 4, disp. 7, dub. 1, p. 101). The eighteenth century Dominican Charles-René Billuart agreed: “This knot is the most intricate
sacred enigma of all of theology, of which the human mind is unequal to completely solving . . . Behold the highest difficulty which
even theologians of the most exceeding genius twist and are compelled to go off into various opinions.” (Cursus Theologiae, vol. 1,
diss. 7, a. 4, p. 245). A summary of the relevant texts of Aquinas is given in John Wippel, “God’s Freedom to Create or Not,” in Met-
aphysical Themes in Thomas Aquinas II, Studies in Philosophy and the History of Philosophy 47 (Washington: Catholic University
of America Press, 2007), 218–39. Classical Thomistic treatments of this problem can also be found in John of St. Thomas, Cursus
Theologicus (Paris: Desclée, 1937), disp. 24, aa. 3-7, pp. 76-136; Billuart, op. cit., vol. 1, diss. 7, aa. 2-4 (p. 256-66); Salmanticenses,
op. cit., tract iv, disp. iii-viii (vol. 2, pp. 35-137); and Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange, God: His Existence and Nature, trans. Bede Rose
(St. Louis: B. Herder Book Co., 1949) vol. 2, 351-4. This problem has also been taken up by contemporary authors. Eleonore Stump
and Norman Kretzmann, “Absolute Simplicity,” Faith and Philosophy 2 (1985) 353-82; John F. X. Knasas, “Contra Spinoza: Aqui-
nas on God's Free Will,” American Catholic Philosophical Quarterly 76 (2002) 417-29; and W. Matthews Grant, “Aquinas, Divine
Simplicity, and Divine Freedom.” Proceedings of the American Catholic Philosophical Association 77 (2004) 129-144;
90
reason why they are as they in fact are. Thus, there would be some contingent cause which would
account for the divine energy being multiplied in creatures in this way and not in another way. But, ex
hypothesi, this cause could not be assigned to the divine essence, therefore we would be forced to
suppose that there is some sort of mediate layer between the essence and the energies as these latter
immediately touch creatures. But, in order to maintain that this mediate layer supplies a contingent
cause for the multiplicaion of the energies that are subsequent to it, we would have to suppose yet
another layer. There would be an infinite regress. In short, the problem of the contingent plurality of
creatures cannot be solved by pushing the problem back into the uncreated realm and supposing a
contingent plurality there. In fact, positing an uncreated, caused contingency only makes the problem
more acute.
Bradshaw seems to be aware of this difficulty. Therefore, he adopts a unique view of the divine
energies. Basing his view on his own reading of Gregory Palamas, he claims that there are various
divine energies. These various energies are apparently not only distinct ex parte rei from the divine
Some are contingent, some necessary; some are temporal, some eternal; some are
realities or energies, others are activities, operation, or attributes. What could such a
disparate group have in common? Simply that they are acts of self-manifestation. . . One
way to look at Palamas is as inviting us to reconceive what have traditionally been
regarded as distinct categories—the eternal, necessary divine attributes and contingent,
temporal divine activities—as species within a broader genus.215
Just as a person has various more-or-less abiding ways of manifesting his character (a gesture, a
countenance, a heroic deed, a character trait), so too with God.216 Thus, according to Bradshaw, we can
suppose that while some of God's energies are necessary and eternal complements of his essence,
nevertheless others are contingent and come to be in time. But since this contingency is at the level of
215
Bradshaw, Aristotle East and West, 273-4
216
Ibid., 273.
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(some of) the energies, and not the essence, “God can do otherwise without being otherwise.”217
But again, this will still not work. In the first place, this solution proposes that there is a divine
activity that is uncreated, contingent, and comes to be in time. But merely proposing that the divine
energies be understood in this way is not the same as demonstrating that the proposal obtains in
reality.218 In fact, it is not clear that there could even be something that is uncreated, contingent, and
comes to be in time, for it seems that anything that is contingent and comes to be in time is a product of
However, suppose for the sake of argument that the divine energies could be understood in this
way. Then we can still make the same argument that we did above: there would be a reason why these
energies came into being and not other ones. This determination would be either by the essence or
another sort of energy. But, ex hypothesi it could not be by the essence, so it would have to be by
another sort of energy. But this energy would still be contingent, so it would demand a cause. And there
In sum, making a distinction ex parte rei between God's essence and energies does not really
solve the problem, because (as Garrigou-Lagrange and Billuart note in their formulation of the
problem)219 the conflict does not exist between God's liberty and His simplicity, precisely as such.
Rather, the conflict is more precisely between God's liberty and the immutability of His essence, which
not need to reject divine simplicity in order to explain divine liberty. In fact, for St. Thomas, we should
not reject divine simplicity in favor of divine liberty, because he thinks that we have good arguments for
We have already seen some of the reasons why St. Thomas defends divine simplicity. We can
217
Ibid., 272.
218
A Thomist would say that what Bradshaw has done is to offer a nominal definition of the divine energies, but has not an-
swered the question an est. That is, Bradshaw has told us what he means by the term “divine energies,” but has not established that
there is in re any such thing that answers to the term according to his understanding of it.
219
Garrigou-Lagrange, God: His Existence and Nature, vol. 2, pp. 351-4; Billuart, vol. 1, diss. 7, a. 3 (p. 259)
92
summarize his grounds for defending the fact that God has free choice. God must have a will because he
has an intellect by which he can apprehend his proper good. 220 This will must also have free choice with
respect to anything that he wills apart from himself, because being perfectly in act is a perfect good that
can be had without having anything else.221 Or, to put it another way, as possessing an intellectual
nature, God can scrutinize and judge various possible beings.222 The power of free choice is radically in
the intellect, because it can recognize the various ways that different possible beings are not necessary
to God so that He might attain his proper end.223 Therefore, not only can God will or not-will things
apart from Himself, but he can also will this rather than that.
Now all of this seems quite undeniable. Therefore, it seems that we must, at list prima facie,
favor the supposition that divine simplicity can be reconciled with divine liberty rather than with the
contrary supposition, even if we cannot see the reconciliation right away. After all, God is mysterious!
But, can we catch a glimpse of the mystery? Can we make the reconciliation clearer quoad nos? We can
do it in three steps. First, we need to consider the difference between how a creature wills and how God
wills. Then, we will consider how creatures come forth from God and are related to Him and to His act
of will. Finally, we will be in a position to assert that creatures cannot be the sort of objects that specify
the divine act of willing. Thus, God's act of willing would really be the same, even if He had willed a
different set of creatures. Once we have succeeded in showing all of this, we will have succeeded in
It is worth taking a moment to think about how a human agent wills. We naturally and
spontaneously will our own end, happiness in general. But we do not immediately possess it. Thus we
must launch into a process of deliberation about the means to attain that end. These means themselves,
at some point in our deliberation, will become mediate ends. These mediate ends will be objects that
220
Summa Theologiae, Ia, q. 19, a. 1, c.; Summa Contra Gentiles I.72
221
John of St. Thomas, Cursus Theologicus, disp. 24, a. 3, n. 3 (Solesmes edition, vol. 3, pp. 77-8)
222
Billuart, vol. 1, diss. 7, a. 3, (p. 259)
223
Summa Theologiae, Ia, q. 19, a. 3, c.; q. 83, a. 4, c.
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will specify acts by which the potency of our will may be reduced if we choose to perform them. Thus,
our free choice consists of the potency to either this act or that act, which acts are specified by either this
object or that.
One of the key insights that we need in order to reconcile divine simplicity and divine freedom
is that this is not how divine willing works. As an intelligent agent, of course, God wills his ultimate end
inasmuch as he knows it. But God is goodness itself, so He is His own ultimate end, and he understands
Himself perfectly. Therefore, God wills His own goodness as His ultimate end,224 and He does so
necessarily.225 Now in perfectly knowing Himself, God knows all the ways in which His being can be
participated, and in loving Himself desires that there exist beings who share in His being. Thus, God
wills other beings apart from himself.226 Moreover, because things apart from God are participation in
His being and directed to them as their ultimate end, God wills both Himself and the things that are
apart from Himself by a single act of His will.227 In loving his goodness, He loves all the existing things
that He knows as participating in it. Nevertheless, God can attain His end apart from the existence of
things that are other than Himself. Thus their existence is not absolutely necessary.228
Notice what we have discovered about divine willing. God's willing differs from our willing in
two ways. First, unlike our willing, God's willing does not exhibit a means-ends relationship. It is true
that creatures are willed on account of God's goodness, but they are not the means by which God attains
His goodness.229 God's goodness is the end towards which creatures are ordered, but God wills this
224
Summa Contra Gentiles, I.74
225
Summa Contra Gentiles, I.80
226
Summa Contra Gentiles, I.75
227
Summa Contra Gentiles, I.76
228
Summa Contra Gentiles, I.81
229
Therefore, Bradshaw is wrong when he claims that, according to Aquinas, “God necessarily wills His own goodness, [but] He
wills the existence of creatures only as a dispensable means to this end.” (Aristotle East and West, 249). Bradshaw gives this state-
ment as an interpretation of Summa Theologiae, q. 19, a. 3, however this is not an accurate interpretation. In the corpus of this article,
Aquinas says that creatures are “other things which God wills apart from Himself, inasmuch as they are ordered to His goodness as
to an end” (Alia autem a se Deus vult, inquantum ordinantur ad suam bonitatem ut in finem). In the reply to objection 2, Aquinas
calls creatures “the things which He wills on account of His goodness.” (ea quae vult propter bonitatem suam). Neither of these ex-
pressions imply that God wills creatures as a means to attain His own beatitude. Moreover, Thomas explicitly denies that creatures
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goodness prior to them and independently from them.230 Second, notice that this means that the object
that specifies God's act of willing is His own essence, and not the creatures which He orders to his
essence.
We can summarize the difference between God's act of willing and our act of willing in this
following way. Our freedom comes from a potency which is indifferent to being actualized by a variety
of different acts which are specified by a variety of different objects. Our freedom depends on our
passivity with respect to a variety of different objects on whose goodness our will depends. God's act of
willing, on the other hand, is specified and fully actualized by His essence alone. This is the object on
which His will immediately and necessarily bears, antecedently to any willing of creatures. This makes
God supremely independent from the willing of any particular creature.231 Our act of willing depends on
its object; creatures, however, depend on God's act of willing. Freedom in God has to be understood
analogically when compared to human freedom, for it “is the dominating indifference not of a potency,
but of a pure act of subsistent love.”232 Now, if the adequate and specifying object of the divine will is
the divine goodness, the question naturally arises: in what sense, if at all, are creatures objects of the
divine will?
In order to understand how the divine will regards creatures, we first need to think about how
the necessary act of the divine will is related to the free act of the divine will. These are only distinct by
a distinction of reason reasoning. That is, the free act of God is entitatively identical with his necessary
are such means in Summa Theologiae Ia, q. 44, a. 4. There, Thomas distinguishes between perfect and imperfect agents. Imperfect
agents act so as to attain their good, but perfect agents do not act to acquire their end; they act to communicate their goodness. (For
more places where St. Thomas denies that creatures are means to ends, see De Potentia q. 3, a. 15, ad 5, 14; a. 16, c.; Summa Contra
Gentiles I.75.4, I.81.2, 1.82.6, II.35.7) Creatures are ordered to God as their end, but God has His end independently of His choice
to create creatures that are ordered to Him as their end. In fact, the very procession of things from God presupposes God's knowledge
and love of Himself, because this is just what God knows and loves in knowing and loving the creatures that participate in His es-
sence. What is at stake here is the very foundation for why divine simplicity can be compatible with divine freedom—because God's
willing works differently than ours. Getting this point right is also precisely what secures God's transcendence (because He has his
end even if there are no creatures) and His immanence (the knowledge and love with which He knows and loves creatures is the very
same knowledge and love with which He knows and loves Himself). This is the correct way to interpret Thomas when he describes
God as the finis and creatures as the ea quae sunt ad finem.
230
Billuart, diss. 7, a. 3, I say secondly, second proof from reason.
231
John of St. Thomas, Cursus Theologicus, disp. 24, art. 4, nn. 5-6, art. 5, n. 1 (Solesmes ed., vol. 3, pp. 89-90, 95-6); Salman-
tacenses, Cursus Theologicus, tract iv, disp. 7, dub 7, §2, n. 47
232
Garrigou-Lagrange, God: His Existence and Nature, vol. 2, 353
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act. We only mentally distinguish them when we think of God as logically related to the creature,233
subsequently to considering the creature and its relation to God. It is admittedly mysterious how a
contingent habitude can have a necessary and immutable foundation.234 But, to see how this can be so,
we must always remember that divine freedom has a different basis from what forms the basis of human
freedom—active dominating indifference over all creatures whatever—so we must always be careful to
purge our notions of human freedom from our imaginations about divine freedom.235
All of this is to say that creatures are not objects that specify the divine will, for God does not
depend on them as objects of His will, but rather, He makes them to depend on Him, and subsequently
to the constitution of His will he gives the creatures the ratio of object precisely as constituting them as
participations in His being and ordered towards his Goodness. If the primary formal object of the divine
will is the divine goodness, then creatures are the secondary material objects, 236 loved by God because
they participate in his being and goodness. But they only have a share in that goodness because He
constituted them in that being and goodness, not because He needed them in order for his transcendent
activity to be, but simply because, according to the hidden counsels of His wisdom, He thought it
fitting.
So, what is the basis for the distinction of reason reasoning between the necessary act and the
free act of God's will? It is the particular ratio under which each regards the formal, primary, specifying
object of the divine will, namely the divine goodness itself. The necessary act regards the divine
goodness in se, while the free act regards the divine goodness as it may be participated.237 But of course,
entitatively, there is nothing really different about these two—God wills Himself and creatures by a
233
John of St. Thomas, Cursus Theologicus, disp. 24, a. 3, n. 20 (Solesmes ed., vol. 3, p. 85)
234
John of St. Thomas, Cursus Theologicus, disp. 24, a. 4, n. 1 (Solesmes ed., vol. 3, p. 87)
235
John of St. Thomas, Cursus Theologicus, disp. 24, a. 5, n. 18 (Solesmes ed., vol 3, pp. 103-4)
236
Salmantacenses, Cursus Theologicus, tract iv, disp. 3, dub. 2, p. 45
237
John of St. Thomas, Cursus Theologicus, disp. 24, a. 5, n. 2bis; Salmantacenses, tract. 4, disp. 7, n. 58
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single act of will.238 Nor is there any necessary reason why one set of beings must be preferred to
another. Here we are in the realm of fittingness.239 The principle bonum diffusivum sui must be
Therefore, we make a conceptual difference between God's necessary act by which He loves
Himself and His free act by which He loves creatures when we consider the latter as connoting a certain
relation toward creatures. But, as we have seen, this relation toward creatures is not a real relation; it
only rises in our minds as a result of our consideration of the creature's relation of dependence on God.
But this means that if God had willed a different creation, God would have different relations to
different creatures. But these relations are only relations of reason. This means that in different
universes, our concept of God's free act would be different only by different relations of reason; in any
possible universe, God's act of will, whether considered as necessary or free, would be entitatively the
same, because it takes its specification from God's essence. Would God's act of will be any different if
One final clarification remains to be made. Part of the difficulty in thinking of God's action as
free stems from the eternal immutability of the act of His will. There was no “time” when God
“decided” to make these creatures rather than those. His eternal and immutable act of will always “was”
to love His goodness and create these creatures. This does imply a kind of necessity, but not an absolute
necessity. Absolutely speaking, there is no compelling reason why God would have to love His
Goodness in diffusing it into these creatures rather than those (or to any creatures at all). This lack of a
compelling reason secures the non-necessity of any particular creature with respect to the divine act of
will. However, there is another kind of necessity, that of necessity ex suppositione. This is the kind of
238
Summa Contra Gentiles, I.76
239
Bradshaw (Aristotle East and West, 249) thinks that he has found several places in the Summa Contra Gentiles where Aquinas
says that there are some things that any possible creation must contain (II.30.6, II.45.3, II.46.2,5; III.71.3, III.72.3). In truth, these are
arguments from fittingness. Any necessity they have is only a suppositional and not an absolute necessity. For example, if God’s
creation is to reflect his goodness, then it must contain an intellectual nature.
240
Garrigou-Lagrange, God: His Existence and Nature, vol. 2, 344.
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necessity that this creation has due to the fact that it is eternally and immutably willed by God.
Supposing that God has eternally and immutably willed this creation with His one act of will, He cannot
So, to sum up: God necessarily wills His own goodness as His own perfect beatitude. That is, He
loves His essence as the primary, adequate, and formal object which specifies His will. Since He
perfectly understands and possesses His own essence, His will has attained its ultimate end, and He has
no need of other things as a means to obtain His ultimate end. His act of will is specified by this object,
and there is no need for Him to create any creatures, or if He does create, there is no need for Him to
create any particular kind of creature. He did this out of the fitting decree of His wisdom, deciding to
love in the beings that participate in Him what He loves in Himself. God's necessary act of will and His
free act of will are distinct only by a distinction of reasoning reason from His necessary act. The former
considers God's goodness in se and the latter considers His goodness as participable. We tell them apart
because our concept of the latter is joined with the logical relation to what God has created. But if God
had willed to create something different, our concept of God's free act of creation would only differ
from what it is in this creation by a logical relation from God to creatures; entitatively God's act of will
would be the same as it is now. Even under the assumption of divine simplicity, God can do otherwise
without being otherwise. And, of course, divine immutability does imply a certain kind of necessity to
creature, not an absolute necessity, but a necessity ex suppositione: Supposing that from all eternity God
241
Summa Theologiae, Ia, q. 19, a. 3; Summa Contra Gentiles, I.83. This distinction between absolute and suppositional necessi-
ty is sometimes equivalently expressed using the logical notions of “the divided sense” and “the composite sense,” respectively. The
divided sense indicates the presence of two forms in the same subject at different times, because one excludes the other, whereas the
composite sense indicates the presence of two forms in one subject simultaneously. For example, consider the statement, “It is possi-
ble for Peter, who is currently sitting, to run.” Is this statement true or false? It depends. Absolutely speaking, it is true. Peter can get
up out of his chair and start running. We say that the proposition is true in the divided sense. But, under the supposition that Peter is
sitting, the proposition is false, because a person who is sitting cannot also be a person who is running. In other words, we say that
the proposition is false in the composite sense. (John of St Thomas, Cursus Philosophicus, vol. 1, Ars Logica, ed. P. Beatus Resier
(Turin: Marietti, 1930) pars I, lib. II, cap. XX). A similar distinction can be made with the proposition “It is possible for God, who
eternally and immutably creates this world, to create a different one.” This proposition is true in the divided sense, but false in the
composite sense. Or, equivalently, absolutely speaking, God could have created another world, but under the supposition that he has
willed to create this world, the creation of this world is necessary. (Antonin-Gilbert Sertillanges, L'Idée de création et ses retentisse-
ments en philosophie [Paris: Aubier, 1945] 181-3).
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Conclusion
What can we say about the relative merits of Thomism and Palamism? From this study, it seems
clear that they make claims that are philosophically incompatible. This study has argued for the
superiority of the Thomistic account. Characteristic of the Thomistic approach as we have presented it
here is the idea that our concepts are derived from creatures, and therefore we need to be careful about
how we apply them to God. This is why we paid such careful attention to the Thomistic doctrine of
distinction and the Thomistic doctrine of divine naming. These give us the tools to critique our terms
and concepts before we apply them to God. This is not always done in Palamism, despite this school’s
claim to take apophaticism seriously. As we have seen, there are two places in particular in which we
need to purify our conceptual language when it comes to God: in our understanding of divine simplicity
and in our understanding of how creation works. When we do this, we find that Thomism gives an
account of God as an agent who diffuses his goodness into creatures according to the decrees of his
wisdom and love. Moreover, it is precisely the Thomistic understanding of divine simplicity and
creation which allows us to explain how God is both transcendent over and intimately present to
creation, and in fact how God’s transcendence and presence are mutually conditioning—one is the
affirmations that Thomists and Palamites share: divine impassibility, divine incomprehensibility, a
strong and realistic concept of deification, creation understood as a dynamic participation in the activity
of God, and a commitment to mystical contemplation as the normal form of perfection in the Christian
life (to name a few). Where these two schools differ is on the level of theological opinion which come
from divergent philosophical theses, which is something that need not cause Christian division. Seeing
things this way allows us to tone down the polemics of the debate. The debate about Palamism has all-
too-often been a stalking horse for other issues, and because of this, people have often resorted to crude
polemics instead of careful discussion, and have told the history of the controversy in terms of
99
simplistic binary oppositions that serve contemporary agendas. The way forward is to set all of this
aside, and to focus on the arguments. Doing this would give us the fascinating opportunity to explore
the way that God is acting in all of our lives so that he might share his life with us.
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Appendix:
1. If the divine essence and energy are the same, then the things from the essence will also be the things
from the energy, and the things from the energy will be the things from the essence. And thus, on the
one hand, the Son and the Spirit will be from the energy, and will no longer be begotten and proceeding
only, but they will also be activities/operations (ἐνργήματα) and effects/products (ἀποτελέσματα). On
the other hand, faith will be from the essence; it will not be an activity/operation, but begotten. But both
of these are irreverent and alien to the truth.
2. Further, if essence and energy are identical, and it is altogether and by all means necessary that God
exists together with his essence and energy, then creation is simultaneous with God, who works from
eternity, according to the Greeks.
3. If things which admit of the same logos are also identical to each other, then Peter and Paul, who
admit of the same logos—man—will be identical to each other. But they are not. Thus, neither are the
essence and the energy, which admit of the same logos—simple, uncreated, and bodiless—now identical
to each other. Identity is either generic, or specific, or numerical. But, we should not say that the energy
is generically or specifically identical to the essence. It remains, then, that they are numerically
identical, just as when things have many names, as when we say that the essence, form, and nature of
God are the same. But let the one be said; the other has not been spoken, rather it has been forbidden
from among the things that are customarily said. For according to the divine Cyril, nature and energy
are not the same.
4. If the Son alone is the energy of the Father, as it seems to the heretics, but He Himself is also a
hypostasis, and the energy and the essence are the same according to them, then the hypostasis and the
essence will be the same, and in this way the mixture of the Sabellians is introduced. If the Son alone is
the energy of the Father, but no energy is enhypostatized, that is to say self-subsistent [καθ’ἑαυτὴν
ὑφεστῶσα] according to the great Basil, then the Son will be an anhypostatized energy, but this is the
absurdity of the heretics Marcellus and Photinus.
5. If Christ who has two natures, had union and two energies, according to the dogma of the Sixth
Ecumenical Synod, then these are four: the divine nature and the human, and the divine energy and the
human. And, just as the human energy is different from the nature, but created from created, so too is
the divine energy different from the nature, but uncreated from uncreated. While fighting the heretics
who take away the human energy in Christ, the fathers did not uproot [ἀνήρουν] the divine energy,
being satisfied with the nature alone on account of its utmost simplicity, as it seems to the Akindynists,
but they expressly preached the two energies, just as they preached the two natures.
6. If the arrangement of bodily limbs is not present to contemplation [παρά θεᾷ], then all the things that
242 The text is in the second appendix of Wilhelm Gass, Die Mystik des Nikolaus Cabasilas vom Leben in Christo (Griefswald
1849), 217-222.
101
are written and sung as proper to Him in Scripture are indicative of the energies which come down to us
from the inaccessible and abiding essence, as the theologians say.
7. If the energy is said to be from and to flow forth from the essence everlastingly, something which no
one would ever dare to say of creatures, then the energy is not a creature, and yet, neither is it the
essence.
8. If we were to say that God is absolutely unmoved and inactive (ἀνενέργητον), as it seems to the
heretics, then, on the one hand, he will move the cosmos only as a goal which it desires, neither having
providence nor releasing power (οὐδεμίαν εἰς αὑτον οὔτε πρόνοιαν ἔχων οὔτε δύναμιν διιεὶς). On the
other hand, the cosmos will be a living thing with the power of choice, eternally governing itself and
being moved from God only by its desire. But these things are Greek and mythical and should be
thrown away by the pious.
9. If God is the very things which he is also said to have—for he is life and has life, he is wisdom and
has wisdom, and so on for all the rest—then, on the one hand, the things which God is are not distinct
from him, for they are essential and natural to God. On the other hand, the things which God has are
distinct and come down to us and are the singularly multiplied and undividedly divided energies of the
one essence.
10. If the invisible things of God are known and perceived from the creation of the world—namely his
eternal power and deity (Rom 1:20), but we come to an understanding not of the essence but of the
energy from the things made, according to theological speech, then the essence of God is one thing and
the power and deity of God which are clearly perceived and known through the things made is
another—eternal, indeed, and existing [αυτὴ τυγχάνουσα].
11. If the logoi of beings, which are in God without beginning and eternally, as all the theologians say,
are neither the essence of God (for how might the things which are somehow apprehensible to us obtain
[to] that which is abiding and incomprehensible), nor indeed are they outside of God (for all the things
after God are created, and we will at the same time give place to the Platonic ideas), then the essence of
God is not an uncreated One, according to the things which the mad men of Akindynos buzz.
12. On the one hand, the Akindynists say with respect to the Son and Spirit that God has a nature, but on
the other hand they say with respect to creation that [God has] will (βούλησιν) and energy. But they
contrive these things cunningly, so that they might block out the distinction. But it seems obvious that
they do not know what they are saying. For, with respect to those things which are nature, there is not a
will, and with respect to those things which are will, there is not nature. From where do those who have
taken up these kinds of noises hold that the Father himself is nature or will? For they will be forced
from this to also say that he is generation. But let it be said that the one who generates and the
generation, the one who wills and the will, the one who speaks and the word, are different, unless they
are drunk with wine and do not hear. Otherwise, if they speak of the nature as it underlies
(ὑποκείμενον), but of the will considered subsequently (ἐπιθεωρούμενον), then it comes to the same
thing for us; but if both are only words, as the seed and the fruit are from the grain, then let them say
what other thing is underlying, alongside the nature or essence.
13. If, on the one hand, the essence of God is not said with respect to many (for His essence is one), and
on the other hand, the energy is said with respect to many and differing things (for his energies are
many), then His essence is one thing and his energy is another.
102
14. If every power is said toward another (for it is referred to some ability [πρὸς τὸ δυνατὸν
ἀποδίδοται]), and Thomas the teacher of the Latins famously shows this, then the essence of God is one
thing and His power is another, unless he should say that the essence is something of the relation.
15. Although what I intend to say will seem strange, especially to the heretic Akindynists, it is
nevertheless absolutely true, that is, as far as the natures that stand closer to God, namely the intelligible
and rational ones, but also God himself, are concerned, energy is discerned from essence more than in
the case of the beings that stand away from Him and differ radically from Him. In fact, as theologians
teach “all beings” are determined in regard to the following things, namely, “essence, power, and
energy”; for, as they say, “whatever has no power or, otherwise, energy neither exists nor is something
concrete”. Now (1) in the case of “the inanimate” and insensible beings “the energetic” “power” is
enveloped, so to speak, in their nature, just keeping them in existence and providing them with the being
that makes them what they are. And if in some cases energy is distinguishable from essence, “as in the
case of fire” the power to heat, energy is one-dimensional, irrational and deprived of will. (2) In the case
of “the irrational animals” and, to a higher degree, in the case or rational ones, the result of power is
“more effective and more manifest” than in the previous one. Beings of this sort have the power to
operate, and do operate, not only in regard to themselves but also ad extra, not only the same results but
even the contrary ones, and “numerous” as well as great things, using first their bodies as instruments
and further making many other objects instruments by means of their bodies. (3) Proceeding higher, the
intelligible natures, which can be grasped only by means of the mind, will be found much more
powerful than these lying behind them; indeed, to the extent they are close to God in virtue of the
simplicity of their essence, they are also close to Him in virtue of the multfariousness and the diversity
of their energy. These natures, as the sophisticated Latin doctors say, concoct out of any sort of matter
and shape bodies for themselves ad libitum, in order to present themselves to the persons they intend to
in the proper appearance. Finally, “the God of all”, “the blessed nature”, to the extent He “lies above
all”, is also simple as well as super-essential, and not only much powerful or greatly powerful but also
“omnipotent”, since “He has from eternity in Himself and in the full sense of the term all power”, as the
glorious Dionysius says, and since “His power” and energy “goes through all beings; for He always has
it accompanying and serving His will”, and both are definitely seen “to be adjacent to His essence”.
Thus, the fact that his energy is distinct [from His essence] does not harm the simplicity of the essence
at all.243
16. The theologians say from negations that God, who is not at all the being of beings (ὤν τῶν ὄντων)
according to nature, but the one who is all things according to cause is theologized from affirmations as
the cause of all things. One must seek, then how this is to be said, for both the one who causes the
building of the house as house can never be called the house, and the physician who causes the healing
cannot be said to be the healing. But how in him will come together never being all things, and
subsequently, being everything? Is he not something in the midst of the essences of God and of beings,
according to which he is named from beings as the one who causes and not according to his nature? But
what ever could this be except the energy, which if one were to want to call it the logos or form (εἶδος)
of beings, we would not be disturbed? Except that the artisan is not named for us from the forms, having
his own name and logos apart from the natures and the form of the artisan comes to be and is perfected
without. But God who is nameless according to essence, gives birth to the forms of beings in him,
preposessing them from eternity, likewise excelling over them, and is named from them.
17. [omitted]
103
18. If the mind (νοῦς) is not composed alongside the reason (διάνοια), inasmuch as the latter is
sometimes called a certain passageway (διέξοδον) from the mind which attains the things perceived,
then still less is God composed alongside the energy, and this divinity can be addressed.
19. If the reason (διάνοια) is not other than the mind (τοῦ νοῦ), for it is a natural power of it through
which it takes hold of the things which are shown forth conceptually (λογῳ), then neither is the energy
of God distinct, for it is some natural power which reaches something.
20. And this like reduction of the sound of “divinity” to the divine nature alone is from the delirium of
Eunomius, that those who admit the distinction of the essence and the energies conceptually (κατ’
ἑπίνοιαν) think completely the unreal concept (ἐπίνοιαν), which is formed by the bare utterance of our
word (λόγου) and that which we understand (νοήματος). But hear the God-bearing word from our Basil,
the one who both refutes and puts them to shame: “For,” he says, “we contemplate and distinguish the
natures which have been joined together in Christ by concept (ἐπίνοια) alone, but both of them are
nothing less than the properties. In this way, then, although both the things said of God and all of the
energies are said to be distinguished conceptually, they are not on account of this unreal, except insofar
as in the former case, there is a composition (σύνθεσις) since each nature according to itself can subsist
on its own from its own properties, but in no way is this so in the latter case.
21. If the logoi of beings, which are in God before creation, do not shape the divine mind nor come
together to make up the divine mind, then neither will the energies which proceed from him show forth
this composition.
22. If our mind having or receiving knowledge is not for this reason composed, then all the more is God
not composed of the natural characteristics which are present to him.
24. If the very things which God is according to essence are the very things which he gives to us
according to grace, then these things are not the essence of God, for he gives a share of his essence to no
one.
25. If the very things which God is according to essence are the very things which he gives to us
according to grace, then he does not give us things foreign to him, but rather things essentially
contemplated concerning him, according to the sayings of the saints.
26. If no one is good among men, except the one God, then virtue (power) and being (τό εὶναι) are
naturally present to no good man, unless it comes to be present [to him] from God. And, on account of
this, the divine Maximus said, “Every virtue is without beginning, not having its own father in time,
because it God alone as the eternal generator of its being.”
27. If we abolish the natural properties from God through which what is common is made known, and
we clearly destroy the hypostatic properties through which the hypostases are distinguished, then the
Sabellian mixture will also have place.
28. If the things said of God are distinguished only conceptually (τῷ λόγῳ), as the new dogmaticians so
eloquently say, how about non-beings? For being [is given] to each according to its proper concept (τὸ
γὰρ εἶναι ἑκάστοις ἐν τῷ ἰδίῳ λόγῳ).
29. If, on the one hand, the wisdom of God is said to be and is manifold, but his essence is not manifold,
then his wisdom is one thing and his essence is another, and his essence is not from his wisdom, as
104
Χρυσοῤῥήμων [Chrysostom??] says, but his wisdom is from his essence, and likewise for goodness and
other similar things. On account of this Philip also said that he did not seek to learn the wisdom of God,
nor his goodness, but the essence itself, i.e. the very “whatever” which God is (αὐτὸ ὅ τί ποτέ ἐστιν ὁ
θεός).
105
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