Calvin and the Medieval Dialectic of Divine Omnipotence
During the last century and a half, the
interest in the relationship between medieval theology and the thought of John
Calvin has typically focused on affinities between Calvin’s theology and the
theological voluntarism associated with John Duns Scotus and William of Ockham.[1]
Although this influence on Calvin’s thought is now widely accepted, there
remains considerable disagreement regarding the extent and precise nature of
this influence, especially its relationship to Calvin’s controversial position
on the medieval dialectic of divine omnipotence: the distinction between potentia Dei absoluta (God’s absolute
power) and potentia Dei ordinata
(God’s ordained power).[2]
Although the voluntarist tradition exploited this distinction to underscore the
contingency of the world and God’s redemptive plan, Calvin is well-known for
his rejection of the distinction. For those who maintain that Calvin stands in
the voluntarist tradition of Scotus and Ockham, this rejection is a glaring
anomaly in the French reformer’s theology.
In the present paper I investigate
Calvin’s apparent dismissal of the Distinction in the light of two recent
discussions, that of David Steinmetz (Calvin
in Context, 1995) and with greater detail Anna Case-Winters (God’s Power: Traditional Understandings and
Contemporary Challenges, 1990). Each of these theologians maintains that
Calvin rejected the medieval dialectic of divine omnipotence (hereafter, the
Distinction). In this paper I will argue that their conclusion, shared by many
other scholars, falls afoul because of a reliance on false premises about the
relationship between God’s nature, power, and exercised will, especially in the
context of medieval understandings of possibility and impossibility. Moreover,
I will unpack the relationship between late medieval voluntarism and the
Distinction, thereby showing that Calvin’s polemic against “absolute power” is
integrally connected to his fundamentally anti-voluntarist position. I conclude
that Calvin rejects only a late medieval version of the Distinction, not the
version advocated by earlier medieval philosophers such as Thomas Aquinas.
By the middle 13th century it was common
for theologians to distinguish between the potentia
Dei absoluta (absolute power of God) and the potentia Dei ordinata (ordained power of God).[3]
Although this distinction had its immediate origins in 11th century
speculations on putative divine inabilities (such as highlighted in the debates
between Desiderius and Peter Damian), the rise of Averroistic determinism at
the University of Paris in the 13th century secured a uniform and widespread
entrenchment of the Distinction in scholastic theology. Whereas theologians
such as Siger of Brabant had safeguarded the reliability of God’s actions at
the expense of His freedom by viewing the actual world as necessary, the
Distinction allowed theologians to maintain both the total freedom of God and
the reliability of God’s actions. The freedom of God is asserted vis-a-vis an
initial set of (actualizable) possibilities, a subset of which God chooses to
actualize and which is represented by the actual world. De potentia absoluta God could have refrained from actualizing any
world, or he could have actualized a world different from the one which he did
in fact actualize. However, the exercise of divine power is now bound by the
divine choice. De potentia ordinata
God can only act within the metaphysical parameters established by his eternal
decree. God’s absolute power entails the radical contingency of the Universe.
God’s ordained power entails the reliability of divine action within the
Universe.
In his Summa Theologiae (1a.25.5) Thomas Aquinas exploits the Distinction
to answer the question: Can God do what he does not do? If God acts as though
from natural determinism (as Maimonides, Avicenna, and Averroes maintained),
then the present order proceeds from God as a necessary effect. But then God is
not even free to refrain from creating, much less free to create a different
world from the actual one, so he cannot do what he does not do. Similarly, if
God’s wisdom and justice entail the present order (as Abelard maintained), then
(if God creates) God will not be able to do what he does not do. But Thomas
rejects both of these suppositions. Although the present order is established
by divine wisdom and reflects God’s goodness, neither entails that an act of
divine creation (even if free) must result in an order that is identical with
actual world. God’s wisdom, not to mention goodness and justice, could have
found expression in some other state of affairs. More fundamentally, God’s will
is the cause of all things and there is no natural drive that makes his will
produce anything. Thomas’s affirmative answer rests on the conception of
absolute power.
What 13th century theologians were
getting at was a conception of what we might call God’s free and bound power, not
two different powers but one power viewed from two different perspectives.
God’s power is free or unrestricted when considered in itself, independent of
the actual created order, but it is bound when considered in relation to the
actual created order or pre-ordained plan. Put that way, the Distinction can be
understood as illuminating a peculiar ambiguity in theological discourse. Can God redeem the world by the death of
Elvis Presley? Yes and No. If redeeming the world by the death of Elvis is
included within the set of initial possibilities we can say, “Yes, God can do
it,” even if in fact he doesn’t and never will because it finds no place in his
actual intention. On the other hand, if redeeming the world by the death of
Elvis Presley is not included in the subset of possibilties that God
actualizes, we will have to say “No, God can’t do it.” Given that God immutably (though freely)
wills to bring about this particular world, he is no longer free (de potentia ordinata) to bring about a
different one, though he could have done things otherwise (de potentia absoluta). God binds himself by his eternal decree. So
to ask “Can God do this?” may be to ask “Is this the sort of thing God has
done, is doing, or will do?” or “Is this the sort of thing God could have
done?” In other words, divine power can be viewed relative to conditional necessity (grounded in the
divine will) which renders some things now impossible and unconditional possibility which affirms the ultimate contingency of
what has been, is, or will be actual.
An important modification of the
Distinction emerges in the later medieval period in thinkers such as Pierre
d’Ailly, Gregory of Remini, and Gabriel Biel.There is considerable dispute as
to how exactly the late medieval variant of the Distinction is to be
understood, as well as to what extent the modification has its origin in John
Duns Scotus. The basic idea is that there was a fundamental shift in how
absolute power was construed. Instead of being viewed as a type of power
vis-a-vis initial possibilities open to God but now no longer possible, it was
increasingly construed as a type of (intervenient) action presently open to the
divine will.[4] In his Sentences
Commentary, Pierre d’Ailly distinguishes between two senses of potentia ordinata: God’s power to bring
about all things (i) which he has ordained to occur and (ii) which do not conflict with some
established physical or moral law or with Scripture.[5]
D’ Ailly favors the latter understanding. As a result, absolute power is
construed as the suspension or alteration of features of the present order
(e.g., miracles or God’s issuing moral commands contrary to those he has
already issued).[6]
This move reflects the progressive
extension of “contingency” to more and more aspects of the created order,
specifically its extension to the moral order and order of redemption by the
late 14th century. God is de potentia
ordinata obliged to follow the present order only insofar as he chooses. De potentia absoluta God could have
acted otherwise and still could!
Although some exploited this to explain the occurrence of miracles (as acts of
absolute power temporally altering existing physical laws that reflect God’s
ordained power), others applied it to the moral order. Scotus, for example,
maintains that de potentia absoluta Dei
existing moral laws can be and in fact are sometimes altered by God. God does
not thereby act inordinately or unjustly because whatever system of law God
institutes is right or just because He has chosen it. The very act of altering
an existing law constitutes a new law and thus is right. This theological
voluntarism was an essential feature of late medieval extensions of the
Distinction.[7]
The connection between late medieval
voluntarism and the Distinction is an interesting one, especially since Calvin
is typically thought to be a voluntarist, as evidenced in his stress on the
transcendence and sovereignty of God.
For his [God’s] will is, and rightly
ought to be, the cause of all things that are. For if it has any cause,
something must precede it, to which it is, as it were bound; this is unlawful
to imagine. For God’s will is so much the highest rule of righteousness that
whatever he wills, by the very fact that he wills it, must be considered
righteous.[8]
Since the latter part of the 19th
century, a host of scholars have seen Scotus (and/or Ockham) as the source of
the voluntarism apparently exemplified here.[9] What God does is just or right because and
solely because God does it. God’s act of willing something is what makes it
right, so if God had willed the opposite, then that would have been right. Later I will argue that this
interpretation of Calvin is incorrect, but - for the moment - assuming that it
is correct, one wonders why and how Calvin could reject the Distinction since
it is a obvious deductive entailment of medieval voluntarism. If voluntarism is
true, then there will be a distinction between God’s exercised power (his will
or ordained power) and his potential will (his absolute power). But Calvin
apparently rejects the notion of absolute power. Calvin writes: “What the
Sorbonne doctors say, that God has an absolute power, is a diabolical blasphemy
which has been invented in hell.”[10]
“Therefore, with reference to the sentiments of the schoolmen concerning the
absolute, or tyrannical, will of God, I not only repudiate, but abhor them all,
because they separate the justice of God from his ruling power.”[11]
And again: “That Sarbonic dogma, therefore, in the promulgation of which the
Papal theologians so much pride themselves, ‘that the power of God is absolute
and tyrannical,’ I utterly abhor.”[12]
Calvin goes as far as to link voluntarism
with the Distinction:
Therefore, since God assumes to himself
the right (unknown to us) to rule the universe, let our law of soberness and
moderation be to assent to his supreme authority, that his will may be for us
the sole rule of righteousness and the truly just cause of all things. Not,
indeed, that absolute will of which the Sophists babble, by an impious and
profane distinction separating his justice from his power--but providence, that
determinative principle of all things, from which flows nothing but right,
although the reasons have been hidden from us. (Institutes, 1.17. 2).
The Reformed theological tradition has
typically not rejected the Distinction
per se, and several Reformed theologians have argued that Calvin himself
did not reject it.[13]
Francis Turretin wrote:
Some of our theologians appear to
reject the absolute power of God as a profane and detestable invention (as
Calvin. . . .). They understood this not absolutely, but relatively, with
regard to the abuse of the Scholastics who deduced from it monstrous doctrines.
The latter suggested that the nature of absolute power consisted in this - that
God could do whatever can be imagined by us whether good or evil, contradictory
or not: for instance, that he could lie and sin. . . .Calvin rightly denies
this absolute power because it would not belong to power and virtue, but to
impotency and imperfection. But he was unwilling to deny that God (by absolute
power) can do more things than he really does by his actual power.[14]
In Calvin
in Context (1995),[15]
David Steinmetz argues - contra Turretin - that Calvin rejects the Distinction
as such. Steinmetz understands the distinction between God’s absolute and
ordained power to be a distinction between “God’s unlimited ability to act”
(excluding what is inherently self-contradictory) and “what God has done, is
doing, or will do” (CIC, p. 40).
Steinmetz introduces three reasons why Calvin rejected the Distinction, the second
of which is the heart of his argument: “Calvin’s principle objection to the
distinction is that, in his judgement, it separates the power of God from his
justice.” (CIC, p. 49). Therefore,
Calvin will not, Steinmetz argues, even consider a hypothetical separation of
God’s power from his justice.
Steinmetz’s main argument is as follows:
Because the distinction, even rightly
understood, invites speculative reflection on God outside revelation and allows
a hypothetical, if not actual, separation of God’s power from his justice,
Calvin’s rejection of the distinction must, I think, be understood as a
rejection of the distinction as such and not as a protest against its abuse. At
no time does Calvin suggest that there is a licit use of this distinction or that
it can be salvaged for Christian theology. Calvin reads the distinction between
the potentia absoluta and the potentia ordinata, not as a distinction
between the absolute and ordained power of God, but as a distinction between
"ordered" and "disordered" power. What the scholastics call
the absolute power of God is a disordered power because it disjoins God's power
from his justice. In that sense all power of God, realized and unrealized,
actual and potential, is potentia
ordinata, power ordered by God's justice. (CIC, p. 49)
By “rightly understood” in the first
sentence Steinmetz seems to be referring to the majority 13th and 14th century
understanding of the Distinction that he contrasts with the 15th and 16th
century understanding of divine power (as intervenient action). Steinmetz
surveys the history of the Distinction and concludes that since all forms of it
minimally involve a hypothetical separation of God’s power and justice, all
versions of it involve a hypothetical exercise of divine power in a disordered,
inordinate, or unjust fashion. But since Calvin rejects the theological
soundness of the latter, he rejects the Distinction on which it is based.
Another recent analysis of Calvin’s view
of divine power is presented by Anna Case-Winters in her book God’s Power: Traditional Understandings and
Contemporary Challenges (1990).[16]
Case-Winters begins by carefully noting “the legacy of the Middle Ages”: (a)
omnipotence understood as “the ability to do whatever is doable” and (b) the
Distinction between “divine power in itself” (absolute power) and “divine power
in connection with divine willing” (ordained power) (GP, pp. 42-43). She argues that Calvin rejected both (a) and (b) on
the basis of what she calls the “primacy of the divine will” in Calvin’s thought.
First, for Calvin “it is the divine will
that determines what is possible, not metaphysical necessities. Calvin was
unwilling to admit metaphysical limitations to divine power. God’s personal will defines God's power”
(GP, p. 43). For this reason, omnipotence cannot be
defined as “the ability to do whatever is logically possible,” but rather as
“God’s ability to do whatever God wills” (GP,
p. 48). Hence Calvin rejects (a). But
although there are no “metaphysical” limitations on God’s power, there are
“moral” limitations or determinations. God’s power is an expression of his
moral character. God has a nature and acts (by virtue of an inner necessity) in
accord with that nature. Since what God wills is determined by the divine
nature, (b) is also rejected. Like Steinmetz, Case-Winters thinks that absolute
power would be God’s power independent of his moral character. Calvin thought
that “one could not speak of divine power apart from divine willing. . . .God’s
power is coterminous with God’s will” (GP,
p. 43). It is important to note that after distinguishing between the earlier
and later versions of the Distinction, she emphasizes that “Calvin is rejecting
both of these ways of using the distinction” (GP, p. 43, no. 8). Case-Winters’ concludes: Calvin rejects “the
settlement of the Middle Ages with its limitation of the scope of the divine
power to that which is logically possible and its accompanying distinction
between ‘absolute’ and ‘ordained’ power” (GP,
p. 63).
The arguments presented by Steinmetz and
Case-Winters depend on two important premises: (1) “absolute power” is divine
power (considered) independent of the divine essence (i.e., God’s justice,
wisdom, and goodness) and (2) If God’s power is restricted to the logically
possible, the divine will is limited by metaphysical necessities outside of or
external to God.
III.
The Scope of Absolute Power and the Metaphysics of Possibilia
The critical discussions of Steinmetz and
Case-Winters share a common weakness which renders their arguments unsound.
Steinmetz defines absolute power in terms of God’s ability to do whatever he
chooses “excluding, of course, what is inherently self-contradictory” (CIC, p. 40). Case-Winters speaks several
times of absolute power as the ability to do whatever is “doable” or “logically
possible” (GP, pp. 42-43). Both
accounts operate with this popular account of the scope of absolute power, but
the account is seriously inadequate, especially for the purposes of their
arguments. Medieval philosophers held different views about the nature and
scope of possibilia. The failure to
develop this is an egregious error since it bears directly on the question of
the relationship between God’s nature and power.
In Thomas Aquinas’s account of absolute
power we have reference to the notion of “absolute possibilities” where such
possibilities would be expressed by statements whose terms are not
self-contradictory. Thomas says that “since power is relative to what is
possible, divine power can do everything that is possible, and on this account
God is called omnipotent. . . .He is almighty because he can do everything that
is absolutely possible” (Summa Theologiae,
Ia.25.3). But for Thomas the domain of conceivability is not a realm of
autonomous possibilities, merely linguistic or logical in nature. It is
determined by all the ways in which the divine essence can be imitated by
finite forms. Thomas writes: “The divine being, on which on the notion of
divine power is founded, is infinite existence, not limited to any kind of
being, but holding within itself and anticipating the perfection of the whole
of existence. Whatever can have the nature of being falls within the range of
things that are absolutely possible, and it is with respect to these that God
is called omnipotent” (Summa Theologiae,
1a.25.3).
For Thomas “absolute possibilities” are
to be taken as ontologically real, as
ideas or rationes in the mind of God,
some of which (i.e., exemplars) will have actual existence. But nonexistent
possibles are located in the eternal intellectual life of God himself, and so
modality is given an ontological foundation.[17] Under this Christian variant of the ancient
view of modality as moments of being, considerations of the divine nature play
a significant role in determinations about what is possible. As Simo Knuuttila
has pointed out,[18] for Aquinas
absolute possibilities are circumscribed by God’s eternal intellectual act
which is the primary conceptualization of what can be thought - of what is
possible. Knuuttila writes: “Aquinas thought that what is coherent or
incoherent between a subject and its attributes is determined by metaphysical
forms which are the possible modes of imitating the divine being. So absolute
possibilities are not metaphysically prior with respect to being” (MMP, p. 132).
If there is only one way that the divine essence is capable of
being imitated by finite forms, then the actual world is the only possible
world. Peter Abelard, for instance, rejected discussions on what God might have
done or could do according to absolute power because considerations of God’s
nature were thought to rule out a realm of hypothetical possibilities. God’s
actions conform to the divine nature, but the attributes of wisdom, goodness,
and justice require the present order
if God creates. Therefore, although it may not be necessary for the divine
essence to be imitated by finite forms, if God wills to create God could not
have created a world different from the one he did create. Albert, Bonaventure,
and Richard Rufus tended (in varying degrees) to identify God’s wisdom,
goodness, and justice with the present order. For Bonaventure and Rufus “if the
divine wisdom was identical with the present order, arguments de potentia absoluta would imply that
God has the capacity to act in a disorderly, irrational, perhaps sinful way.”[19]
Alternatively, if there are many ways in which finite forms can imitate the
divine essence (as Thomas and others thought) then the conformity of God’s
actions to his nature is logically consistent with God’s being able to have created
worlds different from our own.
Moreover, Thomas’s doctrine of divine
simplicity logically tethers all talk about what God could have done to God’s
essence. In humans “power’ and “essence” are distinct, as are “will “ and
“justice.” For us there can be things within our power which are not in a “just
will” or “wise intellect.” Power can be exercised in an unjust or unwise
manner. But since God is wholly simple (i.e., lacks all metaphysical
composition), no such distinctions can be found in God (except as rational
distinctions). Divine power is the substance of God and so God’s power cannot
be separated from his goodness and wisdom, even in potentia absoluta Dei. Thomas would say that divine absolute
power is always ordered by God’s justice and wisdom, but it is not on this
account potentia ordinata.
One of the significant consequences of
grounding possibilia in the essence
of a simple God (and viewing it as God’s perception of the ways in which his
essence can be imitated by the creature) is that the domain of the possible may
be restricted in a way it would not be on a non-ontologically-based conception
of modality. The ontologically based conception of modality receives
substantial criticism by Scotus and Ockham, and Knuuttila has argued that their
criticisms facilitated the development of the modern conception of logical
possibility. For Scotus, “the domain of possibility is an a priori area of what
is intelligible and as such does not have any kind of existence” (MMP, p. 138). Consequently, “when ‘possible
being’ is applied to what God can do, the content of this intentional correlate
of divine omnipotence is determined neither by the executive power nor by any
ontologically given realm of esse
intelligibile” (MMP, p. 140). By
freeing modality from its ontological foundations, Scotus establishes absolute
possibility as a category of the transcendental conditions of all thinking.
Necessity and possibility is an area of conceivability that is independent of
any intellect, human or divine. Any omniscient intellect (presumably including
Descartes’ demon) would comprehend the same domain of possibility, the same
relations of compossibility, and the same necessary and contingent states of
affairs. The significance of this way of viewing modality, is that absolute
possibility is detached from considerations of God’s nature. The possible is
metaphysically prior to being, and so the content of (absolute) divine power is
not determined by God’s essence. Oberman, then, correctly describes the late
medieval understanding of absolute power: “It’s limits are not defined by his
will, justice, or goodness, but by the law of non-contradiction, accessible to,
and indeed the basic axiom of, human reason.”[20]
Accounts of the Distinction such as found
in Steinmetz and Case-Winters typically use the language of “logical
possibility” and “non-contradiction” to explicate God’s absolute power. It is
clear why this is inadequate and how it can be seriously misleading. “Logical
possibility” in most of the modern senses is easily detached from
considerations of God’s nature.[21]
It is for this reason that many philosophers and theologians define omnipotence
in terms of what is logically possible and
whatever is consistent with God’s nature. Theologians such as Anselm,
Bonaventure, Henry of Ghent, and Thomas sought constraints on divine power
beyond what some today would consider the broadly logically possible.[22]
On an ontologically-based modality these constraints would be subsumed under
the logically possible, since the logically possible supervenes on the essence
of God. Either way, to speak of absolute power constrained only by what is
logically possible is a significantly misleading claim about the distinction in
its traditional employment.
Case-Winters makes the claim that the
primacy of the divine will in Calvin’s thought leads him to reject the medieval
restriction of divine power to what is doable and thus also to reject the
Distinction. By “primacy of the divine will” Case-Winters is not referring to
the theological voluntarism discussed earlier. Interestingly, she refuses to
attribute that view to Calvin. Rather, primacy of the divine will is understood
to mean: “it is the divine will that determines what is possible, not metaphysical
necessities. Calvin was unwilling to admit metaphysical limitations to divine
power. God's personal will defines God's
power” (GP, p. 43 ). The crucial
premise here appears to be: if God’s power were restricted to what is logically
possible, then God’s power and will would be limited by metaphysical
necessities external to God.
There are, however, several problems with
this argument. First, it is not clear how God’s will can determine what is
possible (metaphysically speaking) and yet God can be limited by moral
necessities. It seems that the ability to determine what is possible trickles
down to the moral realm as well.
Secondly, if the moral necessities that determine God’s will are not
external constraints, why should metaphysical limitations or logical necessity
be external contraints? I have already argued that the earlier medieval
tradition typically takes what Case-Winters refers to as “logically possible”
and “metaphysical necessities” as dependent on the essence of God. This point
should be emphasized because many are pushed into a false bifurcation between
something being dependent on God’s will or being independent of or external to
God. But as the medievals understood possibility and necessity, these can be independent of God’s will but not independent of or external to God. They
can be dependent on the essence of
God. It is wholly unclear how this
would constitute an external metaphysical limitation. Since the medieval
tradition is not accurately represented by Case-Winters, her argument at this
point is simply irrelevant to distancing Calvin from that tradition. Also, her
point is at best unnecesary. Given that the whole motivation for the argument
Case-Winters is presenting is Calvin’s objection to separating the will and
nature of God, all that is needed is a theory which entails the negation of
Calvin’s complaint. Solution: assume an ontologically-based modality.
There is also Case-Winters’ related claim
that God’s will and power are coterminous.[23] Again the motivation here is to avoid separating
God’s power from his justice.
For Calvin, God’s power is coterminous
with God’s will. The freedom (power) of that will is freedom to act in congruency with the divine nature.
The divine will, it should be remembered, is not being understood in some
abstract sense but in a personal
mode. It is not a neutral, blind force of nature; it is a personal will, and,
like the will of any person, it is, to some extent, determined. It has a certain characteristic. In the case of God is
has the character of goodness and justice which are part of God’s nature.
I assume that to say that God’s will and
power have the same boundaries or extent is to say, or at least it entails,
something like: (necessarily) everything included in the set of what God can do
is included in the set of what God in fact wills. And why think this?
Case-Winters points out that the power or freedom of God’s will is delimited by
God’s nature as good and just, so God can do only what is consistent with
divine justice and goodness. Nothing I have argued denies this, but I don’t see
that it follows that God’s will and power are coterminous. For that to be true
we would have to assume that God’s goodness and justice somehow entail (or are
identical with) the actual world. Then, and only then, would God’s acting
consistently with his nature make his power and exercised will coterminous. But
this seems to bite off a bigger piece of the theological pie than is really
necessary if the only motivating reason for the position is to ensure that
God’s power will always be connected with divine justice. Certainly if God’s
will and power are coterminous, then his power cannot be separated from his
justice and goodness. But the latter does not entail the former. Although
Calvin believes that God’s will is determined by his character, Case-Winters
has done nothing to show that Calvin also thinks that God’s just or good will
is either identical with or entails the present order. And although Calvin
believes that we should not separate the power of God from his justice,
Case-Winters does not show that Calvin holds this because he thinks God’s will
and power are conterminous.
As Thomas explained, the present order
does in fact reflect the wisdom and
goodness of God, and it could not have failed to reflect the divine essence,
but God’s wisdom and goodness could have found expression in another order,
even if not in just any order. In fact, since God’s power and essence and will
and justice are the same, it is not possible that God act inordinately. So
necessarily any world he makes will reveal his goodness and justice. That exercised power be consistent with
God’s justice and goodness is a necessary truth, but the particular (good and
just) effect of divine power when exercised consistently with God’s justice and
goodness describes a contingent truth. It is for this reason that Steinmetz is
incorrect when he says that “the distinction, even rightly understood. .
.allows a hypothetical, if not actual, separation of God’s power from his
justice” (CIC, p. 49). Unfortunately,
this important point is also substantially obfuscated in Case-Winters’
exposition since she takes Calvin’s view of divine power to be solely the power
of governing/controlling, as opposed
to the power of creating/causing, thereby leaving little room for the idea of
unactualized possibilities. Calvin certainly emphasizes exercised power, but it
is a mistake to infer from that that he does not assume or articulate any sense
of power construed otherwise.
The failure of Steinmetz and Case-Winters
to state and develop absolute power as grounded in the essence of a wholly
simple God, as well as the confusion about the relationship between God’s
essence, will, and power, has important consequences for the effectiveness and
soundness of the critiques they each present. They both draw attention to
Calvin’s main reason for rejecting the Distinction: it separates God’s power
from his justice and wisdom. But this is hardly an adequate reason for
rejecting the Distinction in its earlier medieval form, only for rejecting a
particular, late medieval version of it. As argued above, once we divorce
“possibility” from its ontological foundations in the essence of God, we are in
a position to have a notion of absolute power (as a capacity for action) which
needs no reference to the divine nature, only an apriori area of logical possibility which will be identical for all
being. If we then push divine freedom, we will have the possibility of God
acting outside the parameters of the divine nature, and so acting inordinately.
This is exactly one of the consequences the late medieval voluntarists are
stuck with when they follow the Scotist path of divorcing “logical possibility”
from the metaphysics of the divine essence.
I believe that there is an important
connection between voluntarism and Calvin’s stance on the Distinction. These
two facets of Calvin’s thought can shed light on each other.
Calvin writes:
That Sarbonic dogma, therefore, in the
promulgation of which the Papal theologians so much pride themselves, “that the
power of God is absolute and tyrannical,” I utterly abhor. For it would be
easier to force away the light of the sun from his heat, or his heat from his
fire, than to separate the power of God
from His justice. Away, then, with all such monstrous speculations from
godly minds, as that God can possibly do
more, or otherwise, than He has done, or that He can do anything without the
highest order and reason. For I do not receive that other dogma, “that God,
as being free from all law Himself, may do anything without being subject to
any blame for doing so.” For whosoever makes God without law, robs Him of the
greatest part of His glory, because he spoils Him of His rectitude and justice.
Not that God is, indeed, subject to any law, excepting in so far as He is a law
unto Himself. But there is that
inseparable connection and harmony between the power of God and His justice,
that nothing can possibly be done by Him but what is moderate, legitimate, and
according to the strictest rule of right. And most certainly, when the faithful
speak of God as omnipotent, they acknowledge Him at the same time to be the
Judge of the world, and always hold His
power to be righteously tempered with equity and justice.[24]
(Emphasis mine)
Perhaps more than any other single
passage in Calvin this statement is crucial to understanding Calvin’s position
on both voluntarism and the Distinction. What is striking about this passage is
that in it Calvin clearly denies that God can do just anything without being
subject to blame for doing so. Similarly he denies that God is exlex or super legem (beyond law). Furthermore, Calvin is explicit that God
has reasons for what He does, and they are just reasons, but they are simply
hidden from us in this life. These points set definite moral constraints on
what God can do. I take this to be evidence against the voluntarist reading of
Calvin alluded to earlier (in section II).
For the voluntarist, God cannot act inordinately because whatever God
does is just by virtue of his doing
it. The divine act makes the moral fact. Calvin, however, following theologians
such as Augustine, Anselm, and Aquinas, maintains that God cannot act
inordinately because of the consistency of the divine nature. God’s being
righteous may be epistemically mysterious in many respects, but it is not
ontologically vacuous.[25]
It is true that Calvin says: “His will is and rightly ought to be,
the cause of all things that are. . .for God’s will is so much the highest rule
of righteousness that whatever He wills, by the very fact that He wills it,
must be considered righteous” (Institutes,
III.xxiii.2). The context here, though, is the human enquiry into the causes of
God’s will. Calvin insists that we should not ask why God wills what He wills
for no such reason can be found by us. He follows this, though, by denying that
God is a law unto Himself. Calvin seems to be making epistemic, not
ontological, statements about justice and the will of God. He is saying that
God’s willing something ought to be a sufficient condition for us to regard the thing
as just, not that God’s willing it is what makes
it just.[26]
Why should we regard as just what God wills? Because we presuppose that God is
just and acts for just reasons. God’s willing something reveals that it is right. It does not necessarily make it right (as
if anything would be right if God willed it). Nor does Calvin’s insistence on
God as the cause of all things and His will being caused by nothing imply
voluntarism. Calvin is merely restating Augustine and Aquinas: “Nothing is
greater than God’s will. Therefore, no cause for it should be sought” (Aquinas,
Summa Theologiae, 1a.19.5).
Calvin’s polemic against the Distinction
should be read in relation to late medieval voluntarism. Although Calvin was
positively influenced by that movement in some respects, his stance on the
Distinction shows that he opposed what he thought to be one of the dangerous
implications of the voluntarism of some of the Sorbonne theologians. The whole
argument in turn helps explain Calvin stance on the Distinction itself. It’s
not the conception of potentia Dei
absoluta per se which Calvin opposes. He rejects construing such power in
isolation from the other divine attributes, leaving us with a nuda potentia absoluta.[27]
I take this to be one of the consequences of the Scotist reduction of the
possible to an a priori category of
intelligibility with no ontological foundation. Therefore, Calvin’s polemic
against the absolute power of the “Schoolmen” is a statement against expanding
the concept of divine omnipotence by means of attributing various possibilities
to God which are not in conformity with his nature, especially as God’s
character is revealed to us in the actual exercise of God’s power in the
Biblical narrative. Calvin, then, objects to any construal of divine power
which does not take the essence of God as supplying internal constraints on
that power and accordingly delimiting the realm of the genuinely possible.[28]
Calvin’s understanding of the Distinction
was no doubt shaped by his theological influences, especially those
contemporary at the University of Paris in the early part of the 16th century.
His opposition to the Distinction must be taken as part of his polemic against
theologians of the Sorbonne (i.e., via moderna
theologians, nominalists, or whatever title one chooses to give them).[29]
Calvin himself contrasts these “Sophists” with the “sounder Schoolmen” (who
include Aquinas and Abelard) (Institutes,
II.ii.6). In his critique of the Distinction he usually refers to a specific
target: the theologians of the Sorbonne. This provides a partial explanation
for why Calvin does not grant any licit use of the Distinction. Such a use was
either not current or not the dominant view at Paris when Calvin was there, and
he is concerned to deal with theological abuses which are contemporary. That Calvin has in view the late medieval
variant of the Distinction may also be inferred from his explicitly contrasting
an ordinate will and absolute will on several occasions, thereby
suggesting that the dialectic to which he is objecting distinguishes between
two kinds of divine action. This is also confirmed by the contexts in which
Calvin always introduces the Distinction. It is always when Calvin is
discussing divine action of some sort: miracles, providence, or predestination.
In each instance, Calvin is opposing construing what God has done, is doing, or
will do as inordinate or tyrannical.[30]
It is clear that Calvin rejected a particular version of the Distinction, the
late medieval version. But this is not to reject the Distinction in its earlier
medieval form. Turretin was correct. Steinmetz and Case-Winters are not.[31]
But more can be said - in the positive.
There is considerable textual evidence in Calvin which suggests that Calvin did
assume the traditional version of the distinction which distinguishes between
unactualized possibilities and God's actual exercised will in creation and
providence.
In his Commentaries[32]
Calvin distinguishes between God’s exercised power (or power in action) and his
unexercised power or mere ability. In discussing Acts 20:32, Calvin discusses
the meaning of “is able” in the
statement: “I commend you to God. . .who is able to build farther, and to give
you an inheritance among all those who are sanctified.” Calvin distinguishes between two senses of
divine power God and so two uses of “is able.” There is “that which is commonly
called actual” and that which “as we used to imagine it, as without effect” (CC, p. 262, vol. 19). In Romans 4:21,
discussing the phrase “that which he hath promised” Calvin notes two arguments:
(a) the argument of doubt according to which we wonder whether God will do
something and whether he can do it and (b) the argument of faith according to
which God will do it, because he has promised; and he can do it, because he is
omnipotent” (CC, p. 180, vol. 19). He
further notes that all men acknowledge God’s power. No one denies that God can
do all things. But when things appear to go against God’s promises, we fall
into unbelief. We think that though God can do all things we disbelieve that
God is active now working in our lives. Faith fixes upon “his power in
continual exercise” (CC, p. 181, vol.
19). These points suggests a distinction in Calvin’s mind between the divine
will and power. Discussing the clause “according to the working [efficacy]
whereby he is able even to subdue all things to himself” (Philippians 3:21),
Calvin says: “Nor does he [Paul] simply make mention of power, but also of efficacy, which is the efficacy, or power shewing itself in action, so to speak” (CC, p. 111, vol. 21). Again, his
comments assume a distinction between power and will.
In the Institutes Calvin suggests unactualized possibilities. For one,
Calvin rejects the Stoic doctrine of necessity and emphasizes the free divine
decretive ground for the present order and providence as the execution of the
divine decree (Institutes, I.xvi.8).
“What God has determined must necessarily take place, even though it is neither
unconditionally, nor of its own peculiar nature, necessary” (Institutes, I.xvi.9). Although one might
read this as implying only that God did not create the world out of necessity
(not that he could have created a different world), we might also see here
Calvin’s Augustinian commitment to God’s freedom in creating the kind of world
he did. Calvin explicitly recognizes unactualized possibilties by virtue of
allowing many things God could have done but did not do. Hence, God’s power
extends beyond the scope of what he does in fact. Specifically, Calvin claims
that God could have redeemed the world in some manner other than the way he
does in fact - a theme deeply imbedded in the history of the development of the
Distinction. He says that the incarnation and redemptive of Christ was not
absolutely necessary (invoking the terminology of the schoolmen by his own
admission), but that it stemmed from an heavenly decree: “If someone asks why
this [the incarnation] is necessary, there is no simple (to use the common
expression) or absolute necessity. Rather it stemmed from a heavenly decree, on
which man’s salvation depended” (Institutes,
III.xii.1). Elsewhere Calvin writes: “God was well able to rescue us from the
unfathomable depths of death in another fashion, but he willed to display the
treasures of his infinite goodness when he spared not his only Son.”[33]
Although Calvin does not use the explicit language of the
Distinction, he does assume the essential propositions of the Distinction in
its traditional employment: a distinction between power and will, and its
correlate, a distinction between unactualized possibilities and God’s power as
revealed in the created order. Calvin’s focus on God’s de facto power and revealed derives from his emphasis on providence
as an essential part of the meaning of God is Creator (Institutes, I.xvi.1). In a very Thomistic spirit, Calvin wants to
draw attention to God as the sustaining cause of the Universe (in all its
details, especially redemption), not merely a generative cause. This emphasis
leads Calvin away from an interest in alternative possibilities, except insofar
as such a consideration supports the human reverence for the greatness of God.
Therefore, although he does not speculate on what sort of possible worlds God
could have actualized, he certainly recognizes that God could have actualized a
world very different from the one that is actual. Faith, however, clings to the
revealed promises of God, God’s reliability in the actual world as manifested
in divine providence. For Calvin, separating God’s power from his justice and
goodness, as Calvin perceived the Sorbonne theologians to do in their notion of
absolute power, undermines the reliability of God’s promises which are executed
by his exercised power. This in turn undermines faith. This is perhaps Calvin’s
most important and compelling reason for labeling the doctrine “diabolical
blasmphemy.”
VI.
Conclusion
Calvin has no adequate ground for
rejecting the Distinction in its earlier medieval form, since his main reason
for objecting to what he calls “absolute power” is inapplicable the
understanding of God’s absolute power such as we find in Thomas Aquinas.
Moreover, there is no adequate ground in the text of Calvin for thinking that
he rejected the Distinction as such, though he may very well have rejected the
only form of it he knew. But Calvin’s acceptance of a distinction between
unactualized possibilties and God’s actual exercised will is the traditional
medieval power Distinction. Even if Calvin’s theological interests lead him to
focus on exercised power, his theological consistency prevents him from denying
that divine power is exhausted in the present order. In a time when Calvin
scholarship seeks to understand the influence of late medieval philosophy and
theology on the Reformation, it is important to recognize that Calvin’s
thinking was also influenced by the earlier medieval tradition. A better
understanding of the “sounder Schoolmen” remains an essential program for
Calvin studies, especially as it illuminates the French reformer’s theology of
God’s power.[34]
ENDNOTES
[1]Alister
McGrath, “John Calvin and Late Medieval Thought,” Archiv fur Reformationsgeschichte 77 (1986) and Reformation Thought: An Introduction,
2nd edition (Oxford: Blackwell Publishers, 1993), pp. 81-84, 128; Bernard Reardon, Religious
Thought in the Reformation (London: Longman, 1981), pp. 187-88; and
Francois Wendel, Calvin: The Origins and
Development of His Religious Thought, tr. Philip Mairet (London: Collins,
1963), pp. 127-129.
[2]Some
recent work on this includes: Gijsbert van den Brink, Almighty God: A Study of the Doctrine of Divine Omnipotence
(Kampen, Netherlands: Kok Pharos Publishing House, 1994), p. 89; Anna-Case
Winters, God's Power: Traditional
Understandings and Contemporary Challenges (Louisville: Westminster/John
Knox Press, 1990); David Steinmetz, “Calvin and the Absolute Power of God,” Journal of Medieval and Renaissance Studies
18 (1988). Heiko A. Oberman, The Dawn of
the Reformation (Edinburgh: T & T Clark LTD, 1992), pp. 255-258.
[3]For
discussions on the historical development of the Distinction, see G. van den
Brink, Almighty God, pp. 68-92; Amos
Funkenstein, Theology and the Scientific
Imagination (New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1986), ch. 3; William
Courtenay, “The Dialectic of Divine Omnipotence” in Covenant and Causality in Medieval Thought (London: Variorum
Reprints, 1984), IV, pp. 1-37; M.A. Pernoud, “The Theory of the Potentia Dei
according to Aquinas, Scotus, and Ockham,” Antonianum
47 (1972), pp. 69-95; and most recently, Lawrence Moonan, Divine Power: The Medieval Power Distinction up to its Adoption by
Albert, Bonaventure, and Aquinas (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1994).
[4]On
the use of the term “operationalization” to describe absolute power as
intervenient action, see Heiko Oberman , “Via Antiqua and Via Moderna: Late
Medieval Prolegomena to Early Reformation Thought” in Studies in Church History, Vol. 5, From Ockham to Wycliff, ed.
Hudson and Wilks (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1987). Courtenay also notes “the
tendency to interpret potentia absoluta
as a type of action rather than a neutral sphere of unconditioned possibility
was. . .aided by Duns Scotus’s treatment of the distinction” (“The Dialectic of
Omnipotence in the High and Late Middle Ages” in Divine Omniscience and Omnipotence in Medieval Philosophy, ed.
Tamar Rudavsky (Dordrecht: D. Reidel Pubishing Company, 1985), p. 253).
This
construal of absolute power probably arose in part because of an ambiguity in
locutions of the form <de potentia
absoluta God can do X>. The proposition is in the present tense, but is
it God’s eternal present or the
creature’s temporal present? On the
classical view of God’s eternity, the
past, present, and future of the created order are seen all at once from the
divine perspective, so it was natural for theologians to use the present tense
when expressing propositions describing God’s power. So <de potentia absoluta God can do X>
must be understood as bracketed with a divine perspective modifier, [from the
divine perspective <de potentia
absoluta God can do X>]. However, when such propositions are viewed from
the temporal present of the created order, the past tense is more correct,
since what God can do from the divine
perspective de potentia absoluta is
from the present occupied by any created being a matter of what God could have done but did not and thus
cannot do. If, however, the divine perspective modifier is dropped from <de potentia absoluta God can do X>,
absolute power will be understood to refer to God’s potential intervenient
action. For further discussion on the development of the Distinction in this
direction, see Courtenay, “Dialectic of Divine Omnipotence” in Divine Omniscience, p. 249 and G. van
den Brink, Almighty God, pp. 75-78.
[5]Pierre
d’Ailly, Quaestiones super libros
sententiarum cum quibusdam in fine adjustis (Lyon 1618, reprint; Minerva,
1964), I. 13. ID.
[6]On
d’Ailly, see Francis Oakley, “Pierre d’Ailly and the Absolute Power of God:
Another Note on the Theology of Nominalism,” Harvard Theological Review 56 (1963), pp. 59-73. On Biel, see
Oberman, The Harvest of Medieval
Theology: Gabriel Biel and Late Medieval Nominalism (Cambridge: Harvard
University Press, 1963), p. 38.
[7]For
a consideration of the Distinction in the Scotist tradition, see Eugenio Randi,
“A Scotist Way of Distinguishing between God’s Absolute and Ordained Powers” in
From Ockham to Wycliff.
[8]Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion,
tr. Ford Lewis Battles and ed. John T. McNeill, Library of Christian Classics, vols. 20 and 21 (Philadelphia:
Westminster Press, 1960),
III. xxiii. 2. Hereafter references will be cited
parenthetically in text.
[9]Albrecht
Ritschl, “Geschichtliche Studien zur christlichen lehre von Gott,” Jahrbucher fur deutsche Theologie, vol.
13 (Gotha, 1868), p. 107; A.V.G Allen, “The Continuity of Christian Thought”
1884, p. 302.; Williston Walker, “John Calvin,” 1906, pp. 149, 418.; C.H.
Irwin, “John Calvin,” 1909, p. 179.; Francois Wendel, Calvin, p. 128; Bernard Reardon, Religious Thought in the Reformation (London, Longman, 1981), p.
187-89. Among these Wendel, though associating Calvin with Scotus, softens the
interpretation of Scotus.
[11]Calvin,
“Replies,” in A Doctrine of the Secret
Providence of God (1558) in Calvin’s
Calvinism: Treatises on the Eternal Predestination of God and the Secret
Providence of God, tr. Henry Cole
(Grand Rapids: Reformed Free Publishing Association, 1987?), p. 266.
[13]For
some Reformed accounts of divine omnipotence which utilize the Distinction, see
Stephen Charnock, The Existence and
Attributes of God, Vol. II (Grand Rapids: Baker Book House, 1987), pp.
12-13; John Gill, Body of Doctrinal and
Practical Divinity (1871; reprint,
Paris, Ark: The Baptist Standard Bearer, 1984), p. 55; William Shedd, Dogmatic Theology, Vol. 1 (n.d.;
reprint, Thomas Nelson Publishers, 1980) pp. 359-60; Robert L. Dabney, Systematic Theology (1871; reprint, The
Banner of Truth Trust, 1985), p. 161; Charles Hodge, Systematic Theology, Vol. 1 (1873; reprint, Grand Rapids: Eerdmans
Publishing Company, 1982), p. 409; A.A. Hodge, Outlines of Theology (1860; reprint, Carlisle, PA: Banner of Truth
Trust, 1983), p. 150; Augustus Strong, Systematic
Theology (1907; reprint, Valley Forge, PA: Judson press, 1979), pp.
286-287; Herman Bavinck, The Doctrine of
God, pp. 244-245; and Louis Berkhof, Systematic
Theology (1939; reprint, Grand Rapids: Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1984), pp.
79-80.
[14]Francis
Turretin, Institutes of Elenctic Theology,
tr. George Musgrave Giger and ed. James T. Dennison, Jr. (New Jersey:
Presbyterian and Reformed Publishing, 1992), p. 245 (3.21.5).
[15]Steinmetz,
Calvin in Context (New York: Oxford
University Press, 1995). The chapter which discusses Calvin and the medieval
power distinction was previously published as “Calvin and the Absolute Power of
God,” Journal of Medieval and Renaissance
Studies 18 (1988), so Steinmetz’s work was published prior to Anna
Case-Winters (to be discussed below). Hereafter citations from Steinmetz will
appear parenthetically in text by page number prefixed by the abbreviation CIC.
[16]Case-Winters,
God's Power. Citations appear
parenthetically in text by page number prefixed by the abbreviation GP.
[17]For
a consideration of the ontological foundations of modality in medieval
theology, see John Wippel, “The Reality of Nonexisting Possibles According to
Thomas Aquinas, Henry of Ghent,and Godfrey of Fountaines,” Review of Metaphysics 33 (June 1981), pp. 729-58.
[18]Knuuttila,
Modalities in Medieval Philosophy
(Routledge: 1993), pp. 103-104, 131-32, 139. References hereafter are given
parenthetically in the text by page
number with the abbreviation MMP.
[21]There
is an important exception here. Suppose (i) the proposition <God exists>
is logically necessary, (ii) God is essentially good and (iii) God’s goodness
is logically incompatible with some Nth degree of evil. It will follow that
there is no possible world which has that Nth degree of evil, for by virtue of
being a logically necessary being God exists in every possible world, and his
existence is not compatible with the Nth degree of evil.
[22]This
is I think the point which Courtenay has in mind in contrasting 13th and 14th
century notions of absolute power: “the area of things that God cannot do
because they imply contradictions is larger in the thirteenth century than in
the fourteenth. Stated another way, a larger number of aspects of the created
order are absolutely necessary for Thomas than for Ockham.” Courtenay,
“Nominalism and Late Medieval Religion” in Covenant
and Causality in Medieval Thought, XI, pp. 39-40.
[23]G.van
den Brink also makes this move: “in Calvin's theology God's power wholly
coincides with his will. . . .” (Almighty
God, p. 88). Interestingly enough, van den Brink admits (p. 90) that Calvin
would not have disapproved of “the
distinction’s authentic meaning as it functioned in Aquinas.” But this could
only be true if Calvin did not think that God’s power wholly coincides with his
will.
[25]There
are several important passages in which Calvin claims that God has just reasons
for doing what he does: Institutes
I.xvii.2; The Eternal Predestination of
God in Calvin’s Calvinism, pp.
121, 122-124; and The Secret Providence
of God in Calvin’s Calvinism, pp.
247, 266-267.
[26]I
take this to be compatible with affirming that God’s commanding human persons
to do certain actions places obligations on them to comply. It does not follow,
of course, that God could command anything.
[27]This
point is raised by Heiko Oberman in response to David Steinmetz’s conclusion
that Calvin altogether rejects the notion of absolute power. See Oberman, Initia Calvini: The Matrix of Calvin’s
Reformation (Amsterdam: Koninklijke Nederlandse Akademie van Wetenschappen,
1991), pp. 17-18. However, elsewhere Oberman states, incorrectly in my opinion,
that for Calvin “the potentia absoluta
does not indicate what God could have done but what he actually does” (Dawn of the Reformation, p. 256).
[28]The
Reformed tradition has been fairly consistent with this. Non-contradiction and
inconsistency with the divine nature are not included as objections of divine
power. See references in no. 13.
[29]That
Calvin’s polemics were often directed at late medieval scholastics and not the
earlier medieval tradition of which Thomas is a representative is argued by
Arvin Vos, Aquinas, Calvin, and
Contemporary Protestant Thought (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1985).
[30]See
Calvin, Institutes, I.xvii.2; The Eternal
Predestination of God in Calvin’s
Calvinism, p. 118; “Replies” in The
Secret Providence of God in Calvin’s
Calvinism, p. 266.
[31]In
addition to Turretin, my conclusion here is also shared by B.B. Warfield,
“Calvin’ Doctrine of God” in Calvin and
Calvinism, p. 161; Francois Wendel, Calvin,
pp. 128-129; Herman Bavinck, The Doctrine
of God, p. 245; and most recently by G. van den Brink, Almighty God, p. 90.
[32]The
quotations from Calvin’s Commentaries
that are to follow in the text are taken from Calvin’s Commentaries, 22 Vols. (Grand Rapids: Baker Book House,
1979). The Acts of the Apostles, tr. Henry Beveridge; Romans, tr. John Owen;
and Philippians, tr. John Pringle. References appear parenthetically in text by
page and volume number with the abbreviation
CC.