St.
Augustine, featured in the previous entry, is one of the four men called the Doctors of the Church. The other three
are Saint Ambrose, Saint Jerome, and Pope St. Gregory I the Great.
St.
Ambrose (340-397), Bishop of Milan, occupies a special place in St. Augustine’s
Confessions, being the spiritual
mentor and baptizer of Augustine. He is known to be a major influence on the
further development of Christian thought, particularly, in determining the role
of Mary in Christology. (“She is the
Temple of God, and Jesus was the God in the Temple.”) However, he was not a
great theologian or philosopher. He was what we might call soft on religion, uncharacteristically tolerant of dissent and variations
in local practices. (The expression “When
in Rome, do as the Romans do,” is believed to have originated with him.) He
was so amiable in his demeanor and attitudes that his candidacy for the
position of Bishop in Milan was instantly acceptable to the powerful Arian
community there, and his appointment helped avoid a major confrontation between
them and the “true believers.” It is in this sense of being a peacemaker and,
consequently, an able administrator that he deserved his sainthood, and even
the title of “doctor,” if we are to
read it as “physician.”
St.
Jerome (345-420) is of course most famous on account of his Bible translation,
the Vulgate. Otherwise, he is a hugely prolific writer, but both theologically
and philosophically inferior to St. Augustine. Still he is not an infrequent
visitor to these pages (see, for instance, the earlier entry in this section
about his “dream”) and robbing him of another special mention here would have
been a pity.
St.
Gregory I the Great (540-604, Pope from 590 until his death in 604) was a
remarkable man of action, but an inferior thinker, which, as Bertrand Russell
points out, is not unusual, but rather customary. He was called “the last good
Pope” by John Calvin: no small accomplishment, to say the least. Gregory is
credited as “the father of church music,” although he did not create, but only
authorized the “Gregorian chant.” Ironically, a much better candidate for the
title would have been St. Ambrose, who had been personally instrumental in the
creation of the Ambrosian chant and in the development of Western church music.
…And
now, we come to probably the only true ethical philosopher among the characters
of this entry, yet, not a “doctor,” and far less known to the Christian
community than any of the above. Also, unlike the four men above, he was not a
“Saint,” far from it. Pelagius (his real name was Morgan, literally translated
into Greek as “man of the sea”) was a Welsh monk and theologian, born around
360, died in 420.
His
outstanding philosophical contribution to Christian thought was in the area of
free will. Pelagius was an honest and brave denier of the doctrine of original
sin. He believed that righteous behavior was the result of a man’s own moral
effort, rather than a product of interference by the Holy Ghost. There is
actually a very fine line here. Pelagius never denied the role of the Holy
Ghost in man’s moral behavior, but he rejected the concept of man’s
incorrigibly sinful nature making him utterly incapable of acting morally on
his own. The doctrine of original sin was thus incompatible with the insistence
on man’s ability to be righteous out of his personal goodness… It goes without
saying that this staple of humanistic ethics was vehemently rejected by the
Roman Catholic Church, and St. Augustine was Pelagius’ chief detractor. With
the power of the Church behind Augustine, it was politically and theologically
no contest, although philosophically Pelagius had to be a hands down winner.
St.
Augustine formulated the chief nine points contra Pelagianism with extreme
prejudice representing Pelagius as an extremist, although, in fact, the
latter’s views were much more moderate, and under the gentle amiable judgment
of a St. Ambrose, Pelagius would never have been treated as a heretic. So, here
are the nine points of Augustine’s Catholic orthodoxy, where Pelagius was
alleged to disagree.
1.
Death came from
sin, not from man’s physical nature. (A most “unnatural” proposition, if taken
literally. I guess, it follows that all animals are hopelessly sinful creatures
as well…)
2.
Infants must be
baptized, to be cleansed from original sin. (A Christian activist’s demand,
which is logically tied together with the doctrine of the original sin, and its
validity entirely depends on the latter.)
3.
Justifying
grace covers past sins and helps avoid future sins. (Points 3 through 8 are all
logical interpretations of the Christian doctrine of Grace, take it or leave
it. Pelagius had the right to contest the doctrine itself, obviously fighting
for an improved formulation of the dogma. Unfortunately, he lost the fight, and
Luther’s Theological Reformation was by no means helpful, going even farther
than Catholicism in its anti-Pelagian interpretation of Grace, to the detriment
of good works, etc.)
4.
The grace of
Christ imparts strength and will to act out God's commandments.
5.
No good works
can come without God's grace.
6.
We confess we
are sinners because it is true, not from humility.
7.
The saints ask
for forgiveness for their own sins.
8.
The saints also
confess to be sinners, because they are.
9.
Children dying without
baptism are excluded from both the Kingdom of heaven and eternal life. (This
certainly goes well beyond the acceptable tenets of the Christian Dogma. It
sounds revolting and so it is.)
Reading
through this rather ridiculous list, I confess that my sympathies are with
Pelagius, and against the Catholic dogma. But that is on the philosophical
level, whereas the dogmatic level is a matter of belief and not a matter for a
thoughtful discussion. The best that I can do for Pelagius, under such circumstances,
is to name him among the Significant
Others of Western philosophy, which is precisely what I am doing here.
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