Christina VanDyke

This paper argues that medieval European Christian women often used humility topoi not to express genuine lack of knowledge or education, but in order to establish themselves as authorities within contemplative philosophical discussions. Humility formulae were ubiquitous in such discussions and typically used by both men and women to provide an explanation of the text’s larger purpose and a defense of the author’s claim to write it, in addition to situating themselves respectfully with respect to their presumed audience. Women writers in this period frequently also employed humility formulae to foreground objections to their right to write on these subjects qua women, and then to explicitly address those objections in the voice of the only universally recognized medieval authority: God.

The thirteenth to fifteenth centuries were witness to lively and broad-ranging debates about the nature of persons. In logical and grammatical discussions, “person” indicated individuality. In the legal-political realm, “person” separated subjects from objects. In theological contexts, “person” appears most often in Trinitarian and Christological debates: God was three persons in one Being, and Christ was one person with two natures (human and divine). This chapter looks at how these uses of “person” overlap in the works of contemplatives in the Latin West such as Hadewijch, Marguerite Porete, Meister Eckhart, and Catherine of Siena. I argue that the key concepts of individuality, dignity, and rationality combine with the contemplative use of first and second person perspectives, personification, and introspection to yield a concept of “person” that both prefigures Locke’s classic seventeenth-century definition and deeply influences the development of personalism.

Thomas Aquinas claims that perfect happiness—the beatific vision—is a state in which human beings are joined to God in a never-ending act of contemplation of the divine essence. This state involves both the fulfillment of the human drive for knowledge and the satisfaction of our will’s search for the good. The sort of knowledge of God’s essence that would let our wills rest completely, however, is not something human beings could ever achieve on their own. God must both give us the divine essence as an object of contemplation and illuminate our intellects so they are able to grasp what they see. This chapter argues that Aquinas’s account of the beatific vision represents less a fulfillment of human nature than a transcendence of that nature—and that what’s transcended is not incidental. In particular, Aquinas’s emphasis on the radical all-sufficiency of the beatific vision leaves him without an integral role for the body to play in our final end. For those of us attracted to radical hylomorphism and its emphasis on the importance of embodiment, perfect happiness comes at a significant price.

This chapter addresses a difficulty facing Aquinas’s view of post-mortem identity that is posed by his account of the separated soul. Called the Two-Person Problem, the difficulty is that—although Aquinas denies that the human soul is identical to either the human being or the human person—the disembodied soul has agency and self-reference in the period between death and bodily resurrection. If the soul is not identical to you, however, who is it? And how can you be brought back at the resurrection? This chapter considers two promising solutions to this problem. Unfortunately, neither of these proposals solves the Two-Person Problem. The chapter believes that Aquinas’s account of human nature does not, as it stands, possess the resources to overcome this difficulty; and so concludes that reconstructing a(n otherwise) Thomistic account that involves immediate bodily resurrection, though a radical approach, is best suited to preserve the most essential features of Aquinas’s theory.

Transcendental love occupies a central place in medieval contemplative philosophy. Contemplative discussions in the Rome-based Christian tradition in particular tend to focus on the practice of love (what sorts of activities and disciplines develop and increase love), the nature of love, and the experience of love. This chapter follows suit, first addressing the widespread medieval belief that imaginative meditation is the best way to learn how to love, and then turning to different understandings of both what love is and what love feels like. Today, a distinction is often drawn between sacred love (_caritas_) and secular love (_amor_). In the later Middle Ages, however, not only were these terms used more or less interchangeably, but the tropes associated with the terms overlapped extensively as well, with medieval contemplatives and mystics frequently using the language of ‘courtly love’ or _fin’amor_ to depict their religious experiences.

Scholastic debates about the activity of our final end—happiness—become famously heated in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, with intellectualists claiming that the primary activity through which we are joined to God is intellective ‘vision’ and voluntarists claiming that it is love (an act of will). These conversations represent only one set of medieval views on the subject, however. If we look to contemplative sources in the same period—even just those of the Rome-based Christian tradition—we find a range of views on our final end that runs the gamut from ‘self-less union with an unknowable God’ to ‘embodied fulfilment of human nature.’ In this article, I argue that these differing conceptions push their holders to develop a correspondingly wide range of attitudes toward the human faculty of reason, particularly with respect to its value (or lack thereof) in helping us achieve our ultimate end. Medieval thinking on this topic is thus much more complex—and offers more points of connection with contemporary philosophical theology—than is typically recognized.

According to conventionalist accounts of personal identity, persons are constituted in part by practices and attitudes of certain sorts of care. In this paper, we concentrate on the most well‐developed and defended version of conventionalism currently on offer (namely, that proposed by David Braddon‐Mitchell, Caroline West, and Kristie Miller) and discuss how the conventionalist appears forced either (1) to accept arbitrariness concerning from which perspective to judge one's survival or (2) to maintain egalitarianism at the cost of making “transfiguring” decisions such as Pascal's Wager rationally intractable. We consider three ways the egalitarian conventionalist could make these choices tractable and show that each one comes at significant cost to the view. We end the paper by considering whether accepting arbitrariness would be a better move for the conventionalist and conclude that, even here, she runs the risk of transfiguring choices being rationally intractable.

The Cambridge History of Medieval Philosophy comprises over fifty specially commissioned essays by experts on the philosophy of this period. Starting in the late eighth century, with the renewal of learning some centuries after the fall of the Roman Empire, a sequence of chapters takes the reader through developments in many and varied fields, including logic and language, natural philosophy, ethics, metaphysics, and theology. Close attention is paid to the context of medieval philosophy, with discussions of the rise of the universities and developments in the cultural and linguistic spheres. A striking feature is the continuous coverage of Islamic, Jewish, and Christian material. There are useful biographies of the philosophers, and a comprehensive bibliography. The volumes illuminate a rich and remarkable period in the history of philosophy and will be the authoritative source on medieval philosophy for the next generation of scholars and students alike.

An important devotional genre in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, meditations invited their readers to place themselves at the scene of various moments in Christ’s life and encouraged them to have particular emotional responses—joy, sorrow, compassion, and the like—to those imaginative experiences. In its emphasis on feeling, meditation was seen as an activity particularly suited for women and their closer ties with the body. Meditation was also seen as an activity distinct from contemplation, which was portrayed as a “higher,” more intellective pursuit. Yet meditation was intended to increase love to Christ, and love was widely considered to increase knowledge—knowledge of the same sort that contemplation also claimed to yield. Over time, then the widespread popularity of this spiritual exercise opens up space for women’s claims to knowledge to be heard because of (rather than despite) their association with the body.

Medieval philosophy is primarily associated today with university-based disputations and the authorities cited in those disputations. In their own time, however, scholastic debates were recognized as just one part of wide-ranging philosophical and theological discussions. A Hidden Wisdom breaks new ground by drawing attention to another crucial component of these conversations: the Christian contemplative tradition. The thirteenth–fifteenth centuries in particular saw a dramatic increase in the production and consumption of mystical and contemplative literature in the ‘Christian West’, by laypeople as well as religious scholars, women as well as men. A Hidden Wisdom focuses on five topics of particular interest to both scholastics and contemplatives in this period—namely, self-knowledge, reason and its limits, love and the will, persons, and immortality and the afterlife. This focus centers on the (often overlooked) contributions of medieval women and demonstrates that when we reunite scholasticism with its contemplative counterpart, we gain not only a more accurate understanding of the scope of medieval Christian philosophy and theology but also an increased awareness of a deeply practical tradition that builds up as well as tears down, generates as well as deconstructs. The book’s treatment of topics and figures is meant to be representative rather than exhaustive—a tasting menu rather than a comprehensive study. The choice of topics offers a series of ‘hooks’ for philosophers to connect their own interests to issues central to medieval contemplative philosophy, while also providing medievalists in other disciplines a fresh lens through which to view these texts.

The Middles Ages are often portrayed as a time in which people with physical disabilities in the Latin West were ostracized, on the grounds that such conditions demonstrated personal sin and/or God’s judgment. This was undoubtedly the dominant response to disability in various times and places during the fifth through fifteenth centuries, but the total range of medieval responses is much broader and more interesting. In particular, the 13th-15th century treatment of three groups (martyrs, mothers, and mystics - whose physical ‘defects’ were often understood as signs of special connection to God in this life, and who were often represented as retaining these signs in the life to come) challenge standard notions of beauty, disfigurement, and bodily perfection, particularly as the notion is applied to eternal life and our ultimate end.

The 13th-15th centuries were witness to lively and broad-ranging debates about the nature of persons. In this paper, I look at how the uses of ‘person’ in logical/grammatical, legal/political, and theological contexts overlap in the works of 13th-15th century contemplatives in the Latin West, such as Hadewijch, Meister Eckhart, and Catherine of Siena. After explicating the key concepts of individuality, dignity, and rationality, I show how these ideas combine with the contemplative use of first- and second-person perspectives, personification, and introspection to yield a concept of 'person' that both prefigures Locke's classic 17th century definition and deeply influences the development of personalism.

Discussions of immortality in the Middles Ages tend to focus on the nature of the rational soul and its prospects for surviving the death of the body. The question of how medieval figures expected to experience everlasting life—what I will be calling the phenomenology of immortality—receives far less attention. In this paper, I explore the range of these expectations during a relatively narrow but intensely rich temporal and geographical slice of the Middle Ages (the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries in the ‘Latin Christian West’). In section 1, I sketch the two central accounts of the rational soul and human nature (inspired by the Platonist and Aristotelian traditions) that set the metaphysical parameters for medieval discussions of our experience of the afterlife. In section 2, I address accounts that involve transcending the soul’s experiences of itself as an individual. In section 3, I turn to views that emphasize the embodied aspect of human existence and depict our unending union with God in affective and physical terms. In section 4, I argue that the views discussed in 2 and 3 form endpoints of an ‘experiential continuum of immortality’ that provides important context for scholastic accounts of immortality as well as expanding the traditional narrative of medieval philosophy.

The purpose of __Aquinas's Ethics__ is to place Thomas Aquinas's moral theory in its full philosophical and theological context and to do so in a way that makes Aquinas readily accessible to students and interested general readers, including those encountering Aquinas for the first time. Rebecca Konyndyk DeYoung, Colleen McCluskey, and Christina Van Dyke begin by explaining Aquinas's theories of the human person and human action, since these ground his moral theory. In their interpretation, Aquinas's theological commitments crucially shape his account of the human person, human capacities for action, and human flourishing. The authors develop a comprehensive picture of Aquinas's thought, which is designed to help students understand how his concept of happiness and the good life are part of a coherent, theologically-informed worldview. Many studies of Aquinas naturally focus on certain areas of his thought and tend to assume a general knowledge of the whole. __Aquinas's Ethics_ _takes the opposite approach: it intentionally links his metaphysics and anthropology to his action theory and ethics to illuminate how the moral theory is built on foundations laid elsewhere. The authors emphasize the integration of concepts of virtue, natural law, and divine grace within Aquinas's ethics, rather than treating such topics in isolation or opposition. Their approach, presented in clear and deliberately non-specialist language, reveals the coherent nature of Aquinas's account of the moral life and of what fulfills us as human beings. The result is a rich and engaging framework for further investigation of Aquinas's thought and its applications. _"___Aquinas’s Ethics_ _is a perfect introduction to one of the most sophisticated and influential ethical systems in Western thought. DeYoung, McCluskey, and Van Dyke capture the brilliant clarity of Aquinas’s moral vision, offering an illuminating perspective true to both the theoretical depth and practical richness of Aquinas’s writings. Those new to Aquinas’s ideas will find this book eminently readable. Everyone—students and scholars alike—will appreciate its direct, distinctive voice and clear philosophical intelligence." —_Scott MacDonald, Norma K. Regan Professor in Christian Studies, Cornell University_ "__Aquinas's Ethics_ _is an excellent contribution to the literature on Aquinas and ethics, providing an integrated and robust account of the relationship between a metaphysics of human nature, natural law theory, and virtue theory. Showing these inextricable connections, it is very much like the work of St. Thomas himself, and suggests why so many lesser theories of ethics are unsatisfying for their lack of depth and comprehensive reach." —_John Kavanaugh, S.J., Saint Louis University_ “DeYoung, McCluskey, and Van Dyke have written the ideal introduction to Aquinas’s ethics, situating it in the broader context of his thinking about human nature and action. Although Aquinas cared more about—and wrote more about—ethics than about any other philosophical topic, it remains the most unjustly neglected aspect of his thought. I know of no better guide to that territory than this book.” —_Robert Pasnau, University of Colorado at Boulder_.

This chapter addresses a difficulty facing Aquinas’s view of post-mortem identity that is posed by his account of the separated soul. Called the Two-Person Problem, the difficulty is that—although Aquinas denies that the human soul is identical to either the human being or the human person—the disembodied soul has agency and self-reference in the period between death and bodily resurrection. If the soul is not identical to you, however, who is it? And how can you be brought back at the resurrection? This chapter considers two promising solutions to this problem. Unfortunately, neither of these proposals solves the Two-Person Problem. The chapter believes that Aquinas’s account of human nature does not, as it stands, possess the resources to overcome this difficulty; and so concludes that reconstructing a Thomistic account that involves immediate bodily resurrection, though a radical approach, is best suited to preserve the most essential features of Aquinas’s theory.

Today, philosophers interested in self-knowledge usually look to the scholastic tradition, where the topic is addressed in a systematic and familiar way. Contemporary conceptions of what medieval figures thought about self-knowledge thus skew toward the epistemological. In so doing, however, they often fail to capture the crucial ethical and theological importance that self-knowledge possesses throughout the Middle Ages. Human beings are not transparent to themselves: in particular, knowing oneself in the way needed for moral progress requires hard and rigorous work. Yet, medieval contemplatives insist, without this work we will never attain our final end. In this paper, I trace the connection drawn in this tradition between self-knowledge, humility, and self-fulfillment, arguing in section 1 that the humility that results from introspection needs to be understood in the context of contemplative expectations for eventual perfection. Self-knowledge is key for developing the relationship with God that leads to mystical union, but (as I show in section 2) in the affective tradition of the 13th-14th centuries, which emphasizes the role of emotion and the body, such union with God tends to restore rather than annihilate us. In fact, I argue in section 3, the outcome of such union even in this life is often knowledge that benefits not only the individual who experiences it but also their broader community.

Self-knowledge is a persistent—and paradoxical—theme in medieval mysticism, which portrays our ultimate goal as union with the divine. Union with God is often taken to involve a cognitive and/or volitional merging that requires the loss of a sense of self as distinct from the divine. Yet affective mysticism—which emphasizes the passion of the incarnate Christ and portrays physical and emotional mystical experiences as inherently valuable—was in fact the dominant tradition in the later Middle Ages. An examination of both the affective and apophatic traditions demonstrates that, in addition to constituting a necessary stage on the path toward union with the divine, self-knowledge in medieval mysticism was seen not just as something to be transcended, but (particularly in the works of female mystics) as a means of overcoming alienation from embodied existence.

This paper highlights the corrective and complementary role that historically informed philosophy can play in contemporary discussions. What it takes for an experience to count as genuinely mystical has been the source of significant controversy; most current philosophical definitions of ‘mystical experience’ exclude embodied, non-unitive states -- but, in so doing, they exclude the majority of reported mystical experiences. I use a re- examination of the full range of reported medieval mystical experiences (both in the apophatic tradition, which excludes or denigrates embodied states, and in the affective tradition, which treats such states as fully mystical) to demonstrate how a better understanding of the historical medieval mystic tradition can serve as a valuable complement to ongoing philosophical discussions of religious and mystical experience.

Orthorexia is a condition in which the subject becomes obsessed with identifying and maintaining the ideal diet, rigidly avoiding foods perceived as unhealthy or harmful. In this paper, I examine widespread cultural factors that provide particularly fertile ground for the development of orthorexia, drawing out social and historical connections between religion and orthorexia (which literally means “righteous eating”), and also addressing how ambiguities in the concept of “health” make it particularly prone to take on quasi-religious significance. I argue that what makes this sort of disordered eating destructive to both men and women is ultimately a common urge to transcend rather than to embrace the realities of embodiment. In sum, I believe that orthorexia is best understood as a manifestation of age-old anxieties about human nitude and mortality—anxieties which current dominant sociocultural forces prime us to experi- ence and express in unhealthy attitudes toward healthy eating.