William C. Hackett

The name Stanislas Breton likely drums up a few interesting facts: chum of Louis Althusser or Michel de Certeau, author of an obscure spiritual classic or bewildering treatises on Nothing, the Imaginary, and the “poetics of the sensible” – an idiosyncratic figure at the margins, writing on St. Paul or Proclus well before it was mainstream. Coming across his name can be like discovering a great record that none of your friends are talking about or taking a chance on Netflix to find an arthouse ‘hidden gem’. To facilitate that experience, I offer a brief introductory essay sounding some of the major notes in his thought and life, followed by a translation of his “Examen particulier,” written in 1988 as a late-stage critical self-interrogation. The reader should find here that Breton’s oeuvre develops a coherent and penetrating philosophy of conceptual rigor and thematic range that is as deeply indebted to its modern engagements as it is to its medieval and late antique sources of inspiration.

Method, metaphysics, metaphor: three words with a common prefix, which, for philosophy, bear an ancient pedigree. Classically, the last word, as an object of philosophical reflection, has mostly been excluded from bearing any philosophical significance; we will see how this can no longer be the case today, precisely for phenomenology. If the “method” of phenomenology is wholly determined by its goal, namely, "pure" description, and if description is paradoxically only actualized in a figurative mode through guiding metaphors, then we are compelled to ask after the meaning of such a situation for metaphysics, understood as the "redundance" or "affirmation" of existence in its declaration of itself as truth— precisely, I suggest, the work done by metaphor in its strange interlacing of being and human being in the event of language.

In _God, the Flesh, and the Other, _the philosopher Emmanuel Falque joins the ongoing debate about the role of theology in phenomenology. An important voice in the second generation of French philosophy’s “theological turn,” Falque examines philosophically the fathers of the Church and the medieval theologians on the nature of theology and the objects comprising it. Falque works phenomenology itself into the corpus of theology. Theological concepts thus translate into philosophical terms that phenomenology should legitimately question: concepts from contemporary phenomenology such as onto-theology, appearance, reduction, body/flesh, inter-corporeity, the genesis of community, intersubjectivity, and the singularity of the other find penetrating analogues in patristic and medieval thought forged through millennia of Christological and Trinitarian debate, mystical discourses, and speculative reflection. Through Falque’s wide-ranging interpretive path, phenomenology finds itself interrogated—and renewed

Method, metaphysics, metaphor: three words with a common prefix, which, for philosophy, bear an ancient pedigree. Classically, the last word, as an object of philosophical reflection, has mostly been excluded from bearing any philosophical significance; we will see how this can no longer be the case today, precisely for phenomenology. If the “method” of phenomenology is wholly determined by its goal, namely, "pure" description, and if description is paradoxically only actualized in a figurative mode through guiding metaphors, then we are compelled to ask after the meaning of such a situation for metaphysics, understood as the "redundance" or "affirmation" of existence in its declaration of itself as truth— precisely, I suggest, the work done by metaphor in its strange interlacing of being and human being in the event of language

This essay attempts to describe some basic aspects of the political logic of religious belief by reference to some recent work of Sarah Coakley. It does so in two parts. First we examine two models of God, the model of “competition,” shared by pop atheism and religious fundamentalism, and the model of “cooperation,” as espoused by classical religious belief. As an explication of this latter model, in the second part we examine what I term the “doxological feminism” of Sarah Coakley as it appears in her recent major work God, Sexuality and the Self. Coakley’s specific insight concerns the intrinsic connection between her religious practice of contemplative prayer and her theoretical reflection on the nature of desire, which is interrogated by reference to the thought of Jean Daniélou.