Christian Platonism as Spirituality


Art: Fyodor Bronnikov, Pythagoreans Celebrate Sunrise, 1869.

FOR some time I’ve hesitated to address the question, ‘What is Christian Platonism?’, believing this is something too important to treat lightly.  Just when it seemed I could delay no longer, W. R. Inge’s book, The Platonic Tradition in English Religious Thought (Hulsean Lectures, 1925−1926), became available online. As Inge’s definition and understanding of Christian Platonism, it turns out, corresponds closely to my own, and also has the imprimatur of a respected authority, let this suffice as a working definition for now.

As Inge explains in the first lecture, the key features of Christian Platonism might be summarized as follows:

• Christian Platonism is, first and foremost, a form of personal spirituality. It is not the abstract application of Platonic philosophy by Christian theologians (whom we might rather call Platonizing Christians).  It is, as Inge puts it, a religion of the spirit.  As such, it is based on personal religious experience, and, for that reason, not infrequently poses a challenge to dogmatic, authoritarian religion.

• This form of spirituality is very much — if not almost exactly — what St. Paul described as spiritual mindedness. As such, Christian Platonism is concerned with achieving a certain higher level of consciousness or awareness opposed to, or at least different from, our usual concerns for material and worldly things (carnal-mindedness).

• A religion of the spirit is the perennial philosophy, although this has evolved over time. It was the basis of Christ’s original teachings, which sought more to spiritually liberate individuals than to establish church hierarchies and dogmas.

• In each age there have been specific obstacles opposing the emergence of spiritual Christianity. Despite this, there have been periodic flowerings of it at opportune moments of history. Hopefully now is such a time.

Below are excerpts from this lecture, along with a few comments.

Religion of the Spirit

He begins by stating the axial age hypothesis: that during the 1st millennia before Christ, certain social and/or environmental changes led to the emergence of a different form of religion across Asia and the Mediterranean:

The study of comparative religion has revealed the remarkable fact that a new spiritual enlightenment, quite unique in character, came to all the civilised peoples of the earth in the millennium before the Christian era. The change was felt first in Asia, but the same breath passed over Greece and South Italy in the sixth and fifth centuries B.C. … The essence of the new movement was the recognition of an unseen world of unchanging reality behind the flux of phenomena, a spiritual universe compared with which the world of appearance grew pale and unsubstantial and became only a symbol or even an illusion.

With this new outlook upon life came the conception of salvation as deliverance…. The chief aim … should be to escape from the ‘weary wheel’ of earthly existence, and to find rest in the bosom of the Eternal. The way to this deliverance is by the observance of discipline, which whether ascetic, in the ordinary sense of the word, or not, involves a renunciation of the world of surface experience. (pp. 7−8)

Inge tends to characterize this new spiritual religion in dualistic, world-denying terms. What this excludes (but should not) is the possibility that more integrated forms of spirituality — i.e., harmonious combination of concerns for this and the Eternal world — existed at this time.  Ancient myths could be interpreted as reflecting such integral spirituality. Further, to assume no ‘religion of the spirit’ existed before the 1st millennium BC seems rather arbitrary.  However neither of these points are crucial to his main argument.

Plato, according to Inge, inherited this newly coalescing spirituality from earlier philosophers, organizing and presenting it more clearly than ever before:

[I]t is in Plato, the disciple of the Pythagoreans as well as of Socrates … that this conception of an unseen eternal world, of which the visible world is only a pale copy, gains a permanent foothold in the West. What (he asked) if man had eyes to see that pure Beauty, unalloyed with the stains of material existence, would he not hasten to travel thither, happy as a captive released from the prison-house? Such was the call, which, once heard, has never long been forgotten in Europe. It was revived with an even more poignant longing in the New Platonism of the Roman Empire, from which it passed into the theology and philosophy of the Christian Church. (pp. 9−10)

Christian Platonism

He then proceeds to discuss how Platonism passed into Christianity.  Jesus Christ, while not, that we know of, aware of Platonism, nevertheless sought to teach the perennial spiritual religion, and in an improved form:

A Christian will be disposed to find, in this independent growth of spiritual religion, which began to influence the Jews of the Dispersion not later than the second century before Christ, a divinely ordered preparation for the supreme revelation in the Gospel. For although we cannot trace any foreign influence, either Western or Oriental, upon the recorded teaching of Christ, which seems rather to point back to the highest flights of Jewish prophecy, it is unquestionable that most of the canonical books of the New Testament, especially the epistles of St. Paul and the Johannine group, do not belong to the Palestinian tradition. (p. 10)

Christ was primarily concerned with awakening into activity the consciousness of God in the individual soul; His parting promise was that this consciousness should be an abiding possession of those who followed in His steps … . The path of life, as He showed it by precept and example, was superior to anything that either Greeks or Indians traced out; but the conception of salvation is essentially the same — a growth in the power of spiritual communion by a consecrated life of renunciation and discipline. (p. 19)

It might be mentioned here that Jesus Christ, who likely knew Greek, may indeed have known something about Greek philosophy. At the very least (and this is not inconsistent with what Inge says above), the Jewish prophetic tradition and Plato’s writings may have had certain influences in common.

As distinct from the ‘original teachings’ of Christ, Inge allows for Platonic influence of the written Gospels, especially John’s.  He passes over this rather briefly, however, seeing a much clearer connection to Platonism in St. Paul’s writings:

We are on surer ground when we look for a Platonic element in St. Paul’s theology than when we discuss possible borrowings from the mystery-cults.

The whole doctrine of the Spirit in his epistles corresponds closely to the Platonic Νους. The equation was made by some of the Greek Fathers; and the associations of the two words are so similar that I have thought ‘Spirit ’ less misleading than any other English word in translating the Νους of Plotinus. The words, ‘The things that are seen are temporal, but the things that are not seen are eternal,’ [2 Cor 4:18] are pure Platonism; and this is not an isolated instance. In Rom. i. 20 ‘the invisible things’ (νοούμενα) are understood through the things that are made, and 1 Cor. xiii. 12 [‘For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.’] reminds us of Plato’s parable of the cave. The immateriality of Spirit was perhaps not quite clearly asserted by any writer before Plotinus. …

Other examples may be given of St. Paul’s affinity with Plato. The use of νους in Rom. vii. 23 (‘I see another law in my members, warring against the law of my mind’) is Platonic. … In 2 Cor. iii. 18 we read ‘we all, reflecting as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are transformed into the same image.’ Col. iii. 1, ‘If ye then be risen with Christ, seek those things which are above,’ reminds us of Plato’s exhortation to ‘cleave ever to the upward path and follow after righteousness and wisdom.’ [Rep. 10.621c]. We must turn away from material things, for ‘flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God.’ … They share the tripartite psychology which divides human nature into νους (or πνεύμα in Christian theology), ψυχή and σώμα. ‘The earthly house of our tabernacle in which we groan’ is very un-Jewish, and very like the σώμα σημα of Orphism. Lastly, in the Phaedrus as in i Corinthians, love is the great hierophant of the divine mysteries, which forms the link between divinity and humanity. (pp. 11−13).

Much more could be said here concerning the connection of St. Paul and Platonism and many more verses cited.  Especially emblematic is Rom. 12:2, And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind [νοῦς], that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God. Curiously, whereas Stoic influences on St. Paul have elicited considerable interest lately, any Platonic elements to his writings — which are arguably even more salient and important — have received little attention.

Inge describes how each historical epoch of Church history has presented special obstacles to the wide acceptance of spiritual Christianity, treating in succession the early centuries, Dark Ages, Middle Ages, Reformation and post-Reformation periods.

My point is that the religion of the Spirit, that autonomous faith which rests upon experience and individual inspiration, has seldom had much of a chance in the world since the Christian revelation, in which it received its full and final credentials. … [T]he luck of history, we may say, has hitherto been unfavourable to what I, at least, hold to be the growth of the divine seed. It has either fallen on the rock or by the wayside, or the thorns have grown up with it and choked it. (pp. 27,  29).

In the early centuries, both Eastern and Western Christianity suffered from excessive institutionalization, theocracy, and what he terms “caesaropapism”:

The religion of the Spirit has not fared much better in the West [than Buddhism in the East]. Scarcely had the persecutions ceased when the Church began to develop into the centralised autocracy which had become the type of civil government. Caesaropapism — the Byzantine type of state, which till lately survived in Russia, established itself in the East and produced a deadly stagnation in religious as well as secular life. In the West there was, in theory at least, a dual control; but the theocracy proved too strong for the Empire, which was rather an idea than a fact; and a fierce intolerance, which may be regarded as mainly Jewish in origin, but was strengthened by the Roman theory of rebellion against an Empire de iure universal, quenched or drove underground the free activities of religious thought. (p. 15)

In the Dark Ages, the loss of Greek learning in the West made it necessary to “bind the fetters of Church authority” on the masses.  Later, with the Middle Ages came the stranglehold of scholasticism and dogmatism.

Inge’s comments on the Reformation are especially interesting:

[T]he Reformation checked the progress of the religion of the Spirit. This was not the fault of the Reformers, but the inevitable result of the civil war which disrupted and distracted Christendom. In time of war the prophet and seer are not wanted. Effective partisan cries have to be devised, which will appeal to and be understood by the masses. If one side appeals to ancient and sacrosanct authority, the other side has to find a rival authority equally august and compelling.

… In the long and bitter struggle which was to decide which parts of Europe were to be Catholic and which Protestant, both sides were narrowed and hardened. The Roman Church was never again Catholic, and the Protestant Churches forgot the principles which justified their independent existence. The gains of the Renaissance were, within the religious domain, almost entirely lost. … Two religions of authority confronted each other, and real Christianity was once more driven underground. (pp. 23−24)

Inge sees both Catholicism and Protestantism as never having recovered from a descent into exaggerated dogmatism during the Reformation.  Among other things, this has left both camps ill-equipped to adapt to modern scientific discoveries.

Nevertheless, “The religion of the Spirit has an intrinsic survival value, and there have continually been “rare flowering-times of the human spirit which come and pass unaccountably, like the wind which bloweth where it listeth”:

We find it explicitly formulated by Clement and Origen, and we may appeal to one side of that strangely divided genius, Augustine. It lives on in the mystics, especially in the German medieval school, of which Eckhart is the greatest name. We find it again, with a new and exuberant life, in many of the Renaissance writers, so much so that our subject might almost as well be called the Renaissance tradition. Our own Renaissance poetry is steeped in Platonic thoughts. Later, during the civil troubles of the seventeenth century, it appears in a very pure and attractive form in the little group of Cambridge Platonists, Whichcote, Smith, Cudworth, and their friends. In the unmystical eighteenth century Jacob Bohme takes captive the manly and robust intellect of William Law, and inspires him to write some of the finest religious treatises in the English language. … The tradition has never been extinct; or we may say more truly that the fire which, in the words of Eunapius, ‘still burns on the altars of Plotinus,’ has a perennial power of rekindling itself when the conditions are favourable. (p. 28)

Whether these rare flowering-times are, as Inge suggests, unpredictable, or are connected with scientifically understandable socio-economic or evolutionary factors is unclear. The sociologist, Pitirim Sorokin, for example, saw in human cultural history a cyclical alternation of Idealism, materialism, rationalism and integralism that follows more or less lawful principles.

In a very helpful passage, Inge lists what he considers the essential features of Christian Platonism:

My contention is that besides the combative Catholic and Protestant elements in the Churches, there has always been a third element, with very honourable traditions, which came to life again at the Renaissance, but really reaches back to the Greek Fathers, to St. Paul and St. John, and further back still. The characteristics of this type of Christianity are

— a spiritual religion, based on a firm belief in absolute and eternal values as the most real things in the universe;

— a confidence that these values are knowable by man;

— a belief that they can nevertheless be known only by whole-hearted consecration of the intellect, will, and affections to the great quest;

— an entirely open mind towards the discoveries of science;

— a reverent and receptive attitude to the beauty, sublimity, and wisdom of the creation, as a revelation of the mind and character of the Creator;

— a complete indifference to the current valuations of the worldling. (p. 33)

See also Inge (1899, p. 79).  This is a good starting point, but we could easily expand it.  Christian Platonists also have a strong interest in understanding Goodness itself and in gaining the beatific vision. The are often perennialist in their interest in ancient traditions, and latitudinarian towards other religions and Christian denominations.  In terms of actual ascetical practices, Christian Platonists typically understand the cardinal virtues and contemplative practices as essential.  Many follow Philo in interpreting the Old Testament in allegorical terms corresponding to Platonic ethics and psychology.

He then adds:

The Christian element is supplied mainly by the identification of the inner light with the Spirit of the living, glorified, and indwelling Christ. This was the heart of St. Paul’s religion, and it has been the life-blood of personal devotion in all branches of the Christian Church to this day. (pp. 33−34)

Far more could — and ultimately should — be said about how Christianity improves on pagan Platonist spirituality.  Perhaps the very vastness of the topic caused Inge to settle on a very general, summary statement here.  Among the Christian innovations (besides the complex and multidimensional role of Christ in personal salvation), is a stronger view of a personal, loving God in Christianity: in Platonism Man seeks to ascend to God; in Christianity, God’s love is understood as so personal, so fervent, that God reaches out to Man.  It is God’s grace, ultimately, that leads one to liberation and salvation.  Further, in Christianity social charity is integral to spiritual salvation in a way not found (or at least not emphasized) in Platonism.

Future Prospects

Inge closes as follows:

In such a presentation of Christianity lies, I believe, our hope for the future. It cuts us loose from that orthodox materialism which in attempting to build a bridge between the world of facts and the world of values only succeeds in confounding one order and degrading the other. It equally emancipates us from that political secularising of Christianity which is just a characteristic attempt of institutionalism to buttress itself with the help of the secular power. This, as we have seen, has always been the policy of the religion of authority. The religion of Christ, the religion of the Spirit, will not have a chance till it is freed from these entanglements.

It will be a pleasure to me to consider briefly three periods in English History when there was a fruitful return in the Church to ‘her old loving nurse the Platonick philosophy’ … and I hope we are only at the beginning of a new Reformation on these lines. (pp. 34 – 35).

Unfortunately, we’ve seen no such renaissance of Christian Platonism or spiritual Christianity in the nearly 100 years since he wrote. Why?  Surely part of the answer lay in the twin juggernauts of materialism and globalization. Material technological advances will likely continue unabated for the indefinite future.  Will Western society be able to resist ever-more alluring gadgetry?  Or will it be recognized that advanced technology alone is unable to supply a fulfilling, meaningful and happy life?

But while the United States and Europe may by this point be ready for a new spiritual renaissance, developing countries may still find the appeal of materialism irresistible. At the same time, globalization has produced multi-national corporations that rival in wealth and power civil governments, and which are both able and willing to manipulate public tastes and opinions for self-interest.

To the extent that organized Christianity has changed since Inge wrote (as opposed to merely declined), we have seen emerge a fairly radical dominance of the social Gospel — radical in the sense that social justice and human rights are seen as more important than spirituality, prayer and worship.  In part, this is a necessary consequence of globalization, as the conditions of the world’s poor can no longer be ignored.  Yet amidst the clamor for social change we seem to have lost sight of spirituality — including the traditional view that personal love of God (and awareness of God’s personal love for us) is by far the most powerful and productive impetus for social charity.

If we survey the current situation, then, there seems little reason to believe that a new flowering of Christian Platonism will simply happen on its own today.  However if we leave the forces that shape human consciousness to history and economics, we are slaves of blind forces, of chaos.  Plato’s Timaeus suggests that chaos is the default state of matter, and that Form must be imposed upon it from without.  For Christianity to become a genuine religion of the spirit at this time, then, may require the conscious efforts of a dedicated minority.

Bibliography

Inge, William Ralph. Christian Mysticism: Considered in Eight Lectures Delivered Before the University of Oxford. New York: Scribner; London: Methuen, 1899. (Chs. 3 & 4, “Christian Platonism and Speculative Mysticism”, pp. 77−164).

Inge, William Ralph. The Platonic Tradition in English Religious Thought. London: Longmans, 1926.

1st draft: 21 Sep 2020

Preface to Traherne

Art: Thomas Denny, Thomas Traherne windows (Hereford Cathedral, 2007) 

SINCE the rediscovery of Thomas Traherne’s work around the turn of 20th century, there has been wide consensus that he is a significant writer. There has been less agreement, however, on why he is significant — i.e., what his main contributions, especially for present times, consist of.

Somewhat unfortunately, many early commentators focused attention on his poetry, classifying him narrowly as an English metaphysical poet.  However, while his poetry is excellent, it is arguably,not quite as technically sophisticated as that of George Herbert or Henry Vaughan. Traherne’s best work is not his verse, but his Centuries of Meditations, which we might classify as prose-poetry.

Other writers sought to interpret Traherne as a critic of the newly emerging rationalism, especially of Hobbes.  More recently (e.g., Inge, 2009) attention has been drawn to his significance for Christian doctrinal theology.

Somewhat less attention, however, has been paid to simply understanding Traherne’s writings at face value:  as devotional works intended to stimulate and deepen the religious experience of readers. What if we simply allow that Traherne is authentically inspired?   In that case, perhaps we ought to be more interested in how he describes his work and mission than in historical or technical criticism.

Traherne’s two most sublime and famous works — the poems of the Dobell folio (Dobell, 1906) and Centuries of Meditations (Dobell, 1908) have been transmitted in manuscript form only and lack author prefaces.  However Traherne did prepare another work, Christian Ethicks, for publication (it reached print a year after his death) and this is prefaced with a ‘Note to the Reader.’  Here Traherne carefully and concisely explains his purpose.  Christian Ethicks is a systematic work, but it treats the same subjects as his poems and Centuries of Meditations.  Therefore his ‘To the Reader’ gives us insight into his intentions for these other works as well.

To the Reader, copied from the 1675 edition of Christian Ethicks is supplied below. Original spelling is retained.  Page numbers have been added in braces ({}) and paragraphs numbered in brackets ([]).  Some key points are as follows:

In the first paragraph he announces his aim to elevate the soul and inflame the heart.  He is interested in ethics not as a dry academic exercise or as theories developed by force of rational argument.  Rather he seeks to excite the intelligence and arouse the will, enabling people to seek and directly experience the religious and moral truths contained.  Here he follows the tradition of Plato — to achieve moral transformation by an ascent of the mind and heart and by recollection (anamnesis) of already known truths — and not the rationalism of Aristotle or scholasticism.

In [2−3] he contrasts his method with discussions that approach ethics either (1) dogmatically, as ‘things we must do because God so ordains’, or (2) based on practical expedience.  Indeed, a hallmark feature of Traherne’s philosophy is that ethics is what produces our greatest good, which he calls Felicity.  Felicity includes happiness, but is something more.  It also carries the sense of joy, illumination and holiness.  For Traherne, Felicity is the telos of human beings, our ethical summum bonum.  It unites in a single principle our greatest happiness, our duty, expedience, God’s will, love of God and charity to others.

Traherne has sometimes been criticized as being an impractical optimist, with no significant theory of evil.  He addresses this point in paragraph [4], taking the position that virtues are so good, beautiful and attractive in themselves that, if we can see them truly, they will by their own force overcome any attraction to baseness or sin. Hence explicit discussion of vice is a digression and a distraction from topics that matter more.

Traherne is clearly promoting what we would today call virtue ethics. In the subsequent paragraphs he alludes to a number of specific virtues, including the traditional cardinal and theological virtues.  Again in a characteristically Platonic way, he recognizes a fundamental unity amongst virtues.  At the center of them all is Goodness, the source of which is God.

The final paragraph emphasizes two things.  First, the essence of his entire system is to exhort us to God’s praise and glory.  God’s glory, for Traherne, is the essential fact of the universe.  This fact is not only virtually a logical necessity, but something Traherne claims to have experienced himself many times.  Further, we cannot doubt that it is his personal, passionate aim to convey this message to us so that we may achieve the Felicity of which he speaks.  Traherne presents his writings as a charitable outreaching to his readers, seeking to further God’s glory by making us want to further God’s glory, achieving, in the process, our own Felicity.  This kind of self-reinforcing circularity is recurring theme in his writings.

Finally and tellingly, he is careful to emphasize that we must not only understand these high truths intellectually, but “sense” them.

TO THE READER.

[1] THE design of this Treatise is, not to stroak and tickle the Fancy, but to elevate the Soul, and refine its Apprehensions, to inform the Judgment, and polish it for Conversation, to purifie and enflame the Heart, to enrich the Mind, and guide Men {ii} (that stand in need of help) in the way of Vertue; to excite their Desire, to encourage them to Travel, to comfort them in the Journey, and so at last to lead them to true Felicity, both here and hereafter.

[2] need not treat of Vertues in the ordinary way, as they are Duties enjoyned by the Law of GOD; that the Author of The whole Duty of Man *hath excellently done: nor as they are Prudential Expedients and Means for a mans Peace and Honour on Earth; that is in some measure done by the French Charon {iii} of Wisdom**. My purpose is to satisfie the Curious and Unbelieving Soul, concerning the reality, force, and efficacy of Vertue; and having some advantages from the knowledge I gained in the nature of Felicity (by many years earnest and diligent study) my business is to make as visible, as it is possible for me, the lustre of its Beauty, Dignity, and Glory: By shewing what a necessary Means Vertue is, how sweet, how full of Reason, how desirable in it self, how just and amiable, how delightful, and how powerfully conducive also {iv} to Glory: how naturally Vertue carries us to the Temple of Bliss, and how immeasurably transcendent it is in all kinds of Excellency.

[3] And (if I may speak freely) my Office is, to carry and enhance Vertue to its utmost height, to open the Beauty of all the Prospect, and to make the Glory of GOD appear, in the Blessedness of Man, by setting forth its infinite Excellency: Taking out of the Treasuries of Humanity those Arguments that will discover the great perfection of the End of Man, which he may atchieve {v} by the capacity of his Nature: As also by opening the Nature of Vertue it self, thereby to display the marvellous Beauty of Religion, and light the Soul to the sight of its Perfection.

[4] I do not speak much of Vice, which is far the more easie Theme, because I am intirely taken up with the abundance of Worth and Beauty in Vertue, and have so much to say of the positive and intrinsick Goodness of its Nature. But besides, since a strait Line is the measure both of it self, and of a crooked one, I conclude, That the very Glory of {vi} Vertue well understood, will make all Vice appear like dirt before Jewel, when they are compared together. Nay, Vice as soon as it is named in the presence of these Vertues, will look like Poyson and a Contagion, or if you will, as black as Malice and Ingratitude: so that there will need no other Exposition of its Nature, to dehort Men from the love of it, than the Illustration of its Contrary.

[5] Vertues are listed in the rank of Invisible things; of which kind, some are so blind as to deny there are any existent {vii} in Nature: But yet it may, and will be made easily apparent, that all the Peace and Beauty in the World proceedeth from them, all Honour and Security is founded in them, all Glory and Esteem is acquired by them. For the Prosperity of all Kingdoms is laid in the Goodness of GOD and of Men. Were there nothing in the World but the Works of Amity, which proceed from the highest Vertue, they alone would testifie of its Excellency. For there can be no Safety where there is any Treachery: But were all {viii} Truth and Courtesie exercis’d with Fidelity and Love, there could be no Injustice or Complaint in the World; no Strife, nor Violence: but all Bounty, Joy and Complacency. Were there no Blindness, every Soul would be full of Light, and the face of Felicity be seen, and the Earth be turned into Heaven.

[6] The things we treat of are great and mighty; they touch the Essence of every Soul, and are of infinite Concernment, because the Felicity is eternal that is acquired by them: I do not mean Immortal only but worthy to be Eternal: and it is {ix} impossible to be happy without them. We treat of Mans great and soveraign End, of the Nature of Blessedness, of the Means to attain it: Of Knowledge and Love, of Wisdom and Goodness, of Righteousness and Holiness, of Justice and Mercy, of Prudence and Courage, of Temperance and Patience, of Meekness and Humility, of Contentment, of Magnanimity and Modesty, of Liberality and Magnificence, of the waies by which Love is begotten in the Soul, of Gratitude, of Faith, Hope, and Charity, of Repentance, Devotion, {x} Fidelity, and Godliness. In all which we shew what sublime and mysterious Creatures they are, which depend upon the Operations of Mans Soul; their great extent, their use and value, their Original and their End, their Objects and their Times: What Vertues belong to the Estate of Innocency, what to the Estate of Misery and Grace, and what to the Estate of Glory. Which are the food of the Soul, and the works of Nature; which were occasioned by Sin, as Medicines and Expedients only: which are {xi} Essential to Felicity, and which Accidental; which Temporal, and which Eternal: with the true Reason of their Imposition; why they all are commanded, and how wise and gracious GOD is in enjoyning them. By which means all Atheism is put to flight, and all Infidelity: The Soul is reconciled to the Lawgiver of the World, and taught to delight in his Commandements: All Enmity and Discontentment must vanish as Clouds and Darkness before the Sun, when the Beauty of Vertue appeareth in its {xii} brightness and glory. It is impossible that the splendour of its Nature should be seen, but all Religion and Felicity will be manifest.

[7] Perhaps you will meet some New Notions: but yet when they are examined, he hopes it will appear to the Reader, that it was the actual knowledge of true Felicity that taught him to speak of Vertue; and moreover, that there is not the least tittle pertaining to the Catholick Faith contradicted or altered in his Papers. For he firmly retains all that was established in the {xiii} Ancient Councels, nay and sees Cause to do so, even in the highest and most transcendent Mysteries: only he enriches all, by farther opening the grandeur and glory of Religion, with the interiour depths and Beauties of Faith. Yet indeed it is not he, but GOD that hath enriched the Nature of it: he only brings the Wealth of Vertue to light, which the infinite Wisdom, and Goodness, and Power of GOD have seated there. Which though Learned Men know perhaps far better than he, yet he humbly craves pardon for casting in {xiv} his Mite to the vulgar Exchequer. He hath nothing more to say, but that the Glory of GOD, and the sublime Perfection of Humane Nature are united in Vertue. By Vertue the Creation is made useful, and the Universe delightful. All the Works of GOD are crowned with their End, by the Glory of Vertue. For whatsoever is good and profitable for Men is made Sacred; because it is delightful and well-pleasing to GOD: Who being LOVE by Nature, delighteth in his Creatures welfare.{xv}

[8] There are two sorts of concurrent Actions necessary to Bliss. Actions in GOD, and Actions in Men; nay and Actions too in all the Creatures. The Sun must warm, but it must not burn; the Earth must bring forth, but not swallow up; the Air must cool without starving, and the Sea moisten without drowning: Meats must feed but not poyson: Rain must fall, but not oppress: Thus in the inferiour Creatures you see Actions are of several kinds. But these may be reduced to the Actions of GOD, from whom they {xvi} spring; for he prepares all these Creatures for us. And it is necessary to the felicity of his Sons, that he should make all things healing and amiable, not odious and destructive: that he should Love, and not Hate: And the Actions of Men must concur aright with these of GOD, and his Creatures. They must not despise Blessings because they are given, but esteem them; not trample them under feet, because they have the benefit of them, but magnifie and extol them: They too must Love, and not Hate: They must not kill and murther, {xvii} but serve and pleasure one another: they must not scorn great and inestimable Gifts, because they are common, for so the Angels would lose all the happiness of Heaven. If GOD should do the most great and glorious things that infinite Wisdom could devise; if Men will resolve to be blind, and perverse, and sensless, all will be in vain: the most High and Sacred things will increase their Misery. This may give you some little glimpse of the excellency of Vertue.{xviii}

[9] You may easily discern that my Design is to reconcile Men to GOD, and make them fit to delight in him: and that my last End is to celebrate his Praises, in communion with the Angels. Wherein I beg the Concurrence of the Reader, for we can never praise him enough; nor be fit enough to praise him: No other man (at least) can make us so, without our own willingness, and endeavour to do it. Above all, pray to be sensible of the Excellency of the Creation for upon the due sense of its Excellency the life of {xix} Felicity wholly dependeth. Pray to be sensible of the Excellency of Divine Laws, and of all the Goodness which your Soul comprehendeth. Covet a lively sense of all you know, of the Excellency of GOD, and of Eternal Love; of your own Excellency, and of the worth and value of all Objects whatsoever. For to feel is as necessary, as to see their Glory.

* Anonymous, The Whole Duty of Man. London: Henry Hammond, 1658.  A popular 17th century Anglican devotional work.

** Pierre Charron, De la sagesse (translated into English as Of Wisdome, 1612).  Charron, a disciple of Montaigne, defended virtue on the basis of practical expedience.

Bibliography

Balakier, James, J. Thomas Traherne and the Felicities of the Mind. Amherst, NY: Cambria Press, 2010.

Dobell, Bertram (ed.). The Poetical Works of Thomas Traherne. London, 1903; 2nd ed. 1906.

Dobell, Bertram (ed.). Thomas Traherne: Centuries of Meditations. London, 1908.

Hunter, Stuart Charles. Prophet of Felicity: A Study of the Intellectual Background of Thomas Traherne. Diss. McMaster University, 1965.

Inge, Denise. Wanting Like a God: Desire and Freedom in Thomas Traherne. London: SCM Press, 2009.

Margoliouth, H. M. (ed.). Centuries, Poems, and Thanksgivings. 2 vols. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1958.

Marks, Carol L. Thomas Traherne and Hermes Trismegistus. Renaissance News, vol. 19, no. 2, 1966, 118–131.

Martz, Louis. The Paradise Within: Studies in Vaughan, Traherne, and Milton. New Haven and London, 1964.

Traherne, Thomas. Christian ethicks, or, Divine morality opening the way to blessedness, by the rules of vertue and reason. London, Jonathan Edwin, 1675. [Orig. edition]

1st draft: 1 Sep 2020

Your Greatest Psychological Enemy

Today my readings took me to St. Paul’s second letter to the Thessalonians, and an interesting passage where he warns them against what he calls the great Rebel (2 Thess. 2:3) This is in a modern (Jerusalem Bible) translation. The King James Version renders the Greek expression (anthropos hamartia) as that man of sin. Usually I am wary of modern translations, but here one suspects that the international team of scholars who translated the Jerusalem Bible had good grounds for their more evocative choice of words.

In any case this reading serves as a welcome stimulus to address a topic I have too long delayed. I wish to call attention to the reality of this great Rebel as a psychological phenomenon , and as a major obstacle to human happiness.

Now as to whether Satan, in the traditional sense, exists or not does not concern me here. What is of concern is a satanic principle as it exists within the psyche of each individual. That I am convinced does exist.   And it is this inner satanic principle which is, I believe, our most immediate concern, and perhaps ultimately our greatest adversary and obstacle to well-being.

What is the evidence for this? To begin with, I call attention to the psychological theories of Carl Jung. Jung’s theories are not always right, and much of what he wrote is either inconsistent with — or has been interpreted (perhaps wrongly) in ways that make it inconsistent with — Christianity. However, points of incorrectness or disagreement should never make us hesitate to accept whatever else is true and useful. And there is indeed much true and useful in Jung’s theories.

In this case, Jung’s theories make a very strong case that the Bible, as well as the sacred writings and myths of all cultures, (1) can be interpreted psychologically, and (2) that this can be done more or less along the same lines as one interprets dreams psychologically.

One proviso or explanation must be made immediately: to say that the Bible can be interpreted psychologically in no way denies that it has other levels of meaning. Most importantly, it does not deny that the New Testament is literally true. (Whether the Old Testament is literally true is, of course, another matter.) Thus, rather than detract from the grandeur of the Bible, this view actually enhances it: it allows that God, the Supreme Author, uses all modes of meaning which literature may carry — literal and symbolic — to communicate with our souls.   But having stated this, I will not further defend the premise here, having done so elsewhere. In any case, many readers will be willing to accept this key premise prima facie.

A corollary of this premise is that each figure in the Bible has some counterpart, and thus serves as a symbol for some part or process of the individual psyche. Again, many, especially those already familiar with Jungian theory, will accept this without further explanation. It is a standard element of psychological interpretation of dreams, as well as of mythology, art and literature.

However, from the preceding, fairly unimpressive propositions, logic leads us necessarily to a momentous one: this means that the figure of Satan — or the great Rebel — must also correspond to something within the individual psyche.

If true, this is a huge concern. It means that, at virtually all times, in whatever we do or think, in whatever way we seek to improve ourselves on the road of virtue, or to love others, or to contribute to a better word, something within us opposes our efforts. Moreover this energy, force, or principle of opposition is extremely strong, crafty, utterly callous and unloving, devoid of virtue, and, in every way corresponds to the figure of Satan in the Bible!

Evidence of the reality of this adversarial principle can be found in ancient philosophy. I refer, in particular, to the writings of the Jewish Middle Platonist, Philo of Alexandria (c. 25 BC–c.50 AD). Philo is most famous for his complex and amazingly astute psychological interpretations of Genesis and Exodus. However in the process of his interpreting Scripture he contributed quite a bit of philosophical and psychological theory as well. In particular, Philo sees human nature as containing two opposed energies — one salvific and salutary, which he calls soteria (so-tay-ree’-ah; the Greek work for salvation), and the other, its antithesis: a destructive force, which he calls phthorá (fthor-ah’; Liddell-Scott; Strong G5356).

Even this much is quite valuable to know. Now we have a name for this opposing principle, our great enemy: phthorá. This is a great advance over not having a name, in which case we must simply experience the effects of this force. With a term, however, we have the ability to form a definite concept, to associate that concept with other concepts, and to think rationally and productively about it.

There would appear to be at least a vague connection between this negative principle and Freud’s concept of death wish, or thanatos. However, for reasons I won’t go into here, I think that phthorá is something more — and more problematic for us — than the Freudian death wish.

As would be expected for something of such vital and fundamental psychological importance, this principle is represented in the world’s mythologies. In Greek mythology, for example, it corresponds to the god Typhon, a many-headed serpent of inconceivable strength and virulence, who is also the god of storms (hence our word, typhoon.)

Each of us is concerned, both each day and moment to moment, with constructing a stable, integrated personality. This corresponds to the state of unity or harmony discussed in my previous article on the monomyth of fall and restoration. Phthorá is that force within us which actively seeks our fall, and, once we’ve fallen, prevents us from rising again to wholeness.

At a phenomenological level, this is experienced as disturbing thoughts which agitate our mind, and distract us from positive, creative, loving and productive cognition. In a very real sense, at least phenomenologically speaking, life is virtually the same as clear and whole awareness of our outer and inner experience. If we look at a meadow and our mind is tranquil, we see the beauty, the details —we are alive to it. The more our mind is agitated, the more our experience comes to approximate semi- and even un-consciousness — and, in that degree, we are only partly alive. In a state of complete mental agitation we could be said to be dead, in the sense that, if we are conscious at all of our surroundings or inner life, the mental impressions are devoid of vitality and vividness (i.e., of life)

I wish to do no more here than to expose this deadly foe by naming him (or her or it). Knowing phthorá exists alone will not stop it. But better to know your foe than to let it wreak havoc unobserved.

I would only add a few additional points:

1. As already noted, this force is opposed by soterias, the principle of self-actualization, which is stronger. In Christianity, Jesus Christ corresponds to (among having other meanings and levels of reality), or perhaps is, soterias. This means that remedy for phthorá is to be found in the complex system of mythos, religion, psychology and philosophy that surrounds the figure of Jesus Christ.

2. There is possibly some legitimate reason, biologically and/or psychologically, for the existence of phthorá. Perhaps goodness needs an adversary to stay in trim and so that we can grow in virtue. Nevertheless, in this case a little goes a long way: if we need the devil, keep it chained, well guarded, and hopefully with Jesus Christ standing on its head.

3. Again, it is very important to recognize how this force operates within us. Otherwise (as Jung pointed out), there is a strong tendency for us to project our own satanic tendencies onto others. Our great enemy, adversary and antagonist is within.   Whatever harm anyone else can do us is negligible in comparison with the ferocity and malice of this opponent.

4. In keeping with everything said here, it follows that there is a serious danger our identifying with this principle, of becoming it. This, in fact, happens routinely. It occurs, for example, when we become so harshly condemning of others that we literally take the attitude of an avenging angel towards them. To take an example from today’s news, political conservatives may condemn progressives, angrily denouncing them and insisting they are great sinners, etc. But in doing this, in relinquishing the reign of love and goodness in their psyche, they become literally possessed by phthorá. And, of course, the exact same can be said of progressives who condemn, rather than try to engage or reason with conservatives.   But this is only an example; a hundred others could serve equally well as illustrations.

Gnosis comes from Jesus Christ – 1Cr 1 (KJV)

1Cr 1:4 I thank my God always on your behalf, for the grace of God which is given you by Jesus Christ;

1Cr 1:5 That in every thing ye are enriched by him, in all utterance, and [in] all knowledge;

knowledge = gnosei (gnōsis) [Strong’s G1108]

via Blue Letter Bible – 1Cr 1 (KJV).

1. Gnosis is a grace.

2. It is a grace of God.

3. It is given by Jesus Christ.

4. It enriches.