Interconnections Spring 2016

Volume 3

2016

INTERCONNECTIONS JOURNAL OF CATHOLIC SEMINARY STUDIES

2

Interconnections Journal of Catholic Seminary Studies

usml.edu/interconnections EDITOR ASSOCIATE EDITORS

LAYOUT EDITOR FACULTY ADVISOR

Ryan McMillin Louis Cunningham Samuel McCarty Daniel Orris Robinson Ortiz Matthew Siegman Benjamin Thomsen Arturo Vigueras Daniel Weger Friar Jerome Westenberg, O.F.M. Conv.

Luke Zanoni Michael L. Lewis Rev. Raymond Webb

INTERCONNECTIONS: JOURNAL OF CATHOLIC SEMINARY STUDIES is an online, student-edited journal based at the University of Saint Mary of the Lake/Mundelein Seminary. By providing a common forum for Catholic seminarians in various formation programs, this journal encourages a dynamic exchange of insights on common areas of study in Catholic theology and in other studies allied with priestly formation. May it help lead seminarians more deeply into the mysteries of salvation.

The editors welcome papers that address topics in Catholic theology, Scripture studies, philosophy, Church history, pastoral practice, and the humanities. Homilies will also be accepted. Submissions are limited to Catholic seminarians. For more information about guidelines for submission, please visit usml.edu/interconnections.

Views expressed in the articles are those of the respective authors and not necessarily those of the editors or the University of Saint Mary of the Lake/Mundelein Seminary.

The journal is published annually. To receive notifications of a newly published issue, please sign up for our mailing list at usml.edu/interconnections.

ISSN: 1944-088X © 2016 University of Saint Mary of the Lake/Mundelein Seminary

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

3

Contents Volume 3 · 2016

4 The Superiority of an Ontological Proof Benjamin Thomsen

19 Asceticism Based on the Works of Garrigou-Lagrange Andrew Bergkamp

34 For the Sake of Prayer An Analysis of Egeria’s Devotional Journey to the Holy Land Justin Michael Ryan

ON THE COVER: Detail of a stained-glass window of St. Anselm of Canterbury (ca.

1033–1109), added in 1932 to Our Lady and St. Benedict’s Church in Ampleforth, England. Anselm is credited with devising the first ontological argument for the existence of God. (Photo by Father Lawrence Lew, O.P.)

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

The Superiority of an Ontological Proof BENJAMIN THOMSEN University of Saint Mary of the Lake/Mundelein Seminary

T

he greatest Good is God, and the most important part of man is his reason. What, then, could be greater for man in all of philosophy than a proof which can unite man’s most important part to the greatest Good, even if only in a limited way? Great indeed would be a proof that shows us God exists in the fullest sense and that our minds can bask in God at least as regards the fact of His existence. What could be more wonderful, then, than if this great good could be made in but the reading of a few simple words? In the last millennia of philosophical thought, the beginning of such certainty and intellectual union was given to mankind through St. Anselm of Canterbury and his famous a priori arguments for God’s existence. Despite their supreme simplicity, many have struggled, in vain, to discredit the arguments. Though seemingly a piece of arcane knowledge—commonly, yet mistakenly, accepted as disproved and a product of rationalist naivety of the medieval period—at least one such argument is viable to this very day.

In this paper, I shall I.) discuss one of St. Anselm’s ontological arguments, II.) review the famous “Greatest Island” critique of the argument, and III.) analyze St. Thomas Aquinas’s objections to this ontological argument. In doing so, I shall conclude that this version of the ontological argument, with minor clarifications, is apparently sound.

Nevertheless, as sound as it may be, the argument ultimately needs support from Leibniz, Blessed John Duns Scotus, and St. Bonaventure to make this apparent.

I. The Argument St. Anselm of Canterbury has at least three different versions of ontological arguments in his Proslogion. These are found in the second 1 and third chapter, along with at least one additional argument in his reply

1. Anselm, Proslogion, 2–3, in Anselm of Canterbury: The Major Works, eds. Brian Davies and G.R. Evans (New York: Oxford University Press, 1998), 87–88.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

Superiority of an Ontological Proof · 5 2

3

to a critic, Gaunilo. Although they are all ontological arguments (i.e., arguments that demonstrate God’s existence from the concept of being and a priori premises), they differ in focus. The argument in the second chapter centers on the greatness of God’s being, the argument in the third examines the necessity of God’s being, and the one found in the reply looks to the characteristic of beings that can be imagined as non-existing.

In this paper, I shall be focusing on the argument from the second chapter of the Proslogion (i.e., the argument from God’s greatness).

In chapter two of the Proslogion St. Anselm lays out the argument as follows: When [the] Fool hears . . . “something-than-which-nothing-greater-canbe-thought,” he understands what he hears, and what he understands is in his mind, even if he does not understand that it actually exists. For it is one thing for an object to exist in the mind, and another thing to understand that an object actually exists. . . . And surely that-than-whicha-greater-cannot-be-thought cannot exist in the mind alone. For if it exists solely in the mind, it can be thought to exist in reality also, which is greater. . . . Therefore there is absolutely no doubt that something-thanwhich-a-greater-cannot-be-thought exists both in the mind and in 4 reality.

So, with an implied premise and minor modifications the argument can be laid out as follows: Assumption for Reductio ad Absurdum: That-than-which-a-greatercannot-be-thought does not exist in reality.

1.) That-than-which-a-greater-cannot-be-thought exists in the mind.

2.) All other qualities being the same, it is greater to exist in reality and mind than in mind alone.

3.) Something with all of that-than-which-a-greater-cannot-be-thought’s qualities (minus non-existence in reality) can be thought to exist in reality.

4.) Therefore, for that-than-which-a-greater-cannot-be-thought, a greater can be thought.

2. Anselm, Reply to Gaunilo, 1, in Major Works, 111–112.

3. An apt term first coined by Immanuel Kant. Immanuel Kant, Critique of Pure Reason, trans.

J.M.D. Meiklejohn (New York: Willey Book Co., 1943), 331.

4. Anselm, Proslogion, 2, in Major Works, 87–88.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

6 · Superiority of an Ontological Proof Conclusion: Since 4 is absurd, the assumption must be rejected.

Therefore that-than-which-a-greater-cannot-be-thought exists in reality.

Such is Anselm’s first ontological argument for God’s existence, and God’s existence follows from apparently true premises. Before proceeding to some of the famous criticisms of the argument, it may be worthwhile to answer a common objection that often comes to our contemporary minds; for in our contemporary society we find ourselves commonly more focused on the subjective rather than the objective. It is easy to say that Anselm’s use of the term “greater” is vague when greatness seems to fluctuate with tastes and individual perspectives. After all, are we not unfortunately prone to say great making qualities are in the eye of the beholder or at least peculiar to one’s own circumstances?

One ought not object that the term “greater” is subjective or vague and call premise 2 into question. Particular experiences and pleasures have little to do with greatness for Anselm, and there is a very simple and definite meaning of greatness as used here. The term “greater” refers to a degree that is more in one thing in relation to something else. If the term “greater” is attributed to something, then “greater” refers to a degree of that something that is more in one thing than in another: if qualified, to the qualified thing; if unqualified, to the unqualified thing. Thus, “greater” attributed to an unqualified thing (i.e., “being” or “that”) refers to the objective degree of one’s being. In this context, having more being makes one greater, and having less makes one less. This focus on being, with greatness referring to it specifically, is why the contemporary labeling of Anselm’s argument as “ontological” is quite apt.

Now being means the same thing as existence, and existence is obviously something a thing can have more or less of. For instance, whatever finite object I am now looking at exists only where and when it does, and does not exist everywhere and whenever else simultaneously.

Hence the object I am looking at is lacking in existence, and so is objectively “less” than being itself. Therefore, the term “greatness,” unqualified, which the greatest would have, objectively refers to being (i.e., existence) without qualification (i.e., without limit). “[T]hat which 5 does not lack anything at all,” is thus greatest. Thus, St. Anselm is not talking about some subjective or experiential “greatness” that is solely in accord with our particular likes or dislikes. He is talking about the most basic and simple objective standard there is: being.

5. Anselm, Reply to Gaunilo, 8, in Major Works, 120.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

Superiority of an Ontological Proof · 7

This version of St. Anselm’s argument has had no shortage of critics from the moment it was circulated until this present day. Of these criticisms against Anselm, the most applicable ones arose out of his contemporaries and the (later) scholastics. Indeed, these criticisms are often merely repeated in later centuries in various forms.

II. The Greatest Island One of the most famous criticisms of Anselm’s argument originated from one such contemporary: a monk by the name of Gaunilo of Marmoutiers. Although his criticism is not directly applicable to what Anselm wrote, it is at least implicit in what Gaunilo explicitly states.

Gaunilo’s criticism, in spirit, might be called an overload argument. That is, Gaunilo attempts to show that if the logic of Anselm’s argument worked, one could prove just about anything existed by simply adding “greatness” to the definition of some qualified thing. He states: For example: they say that there is . . . the “Lost Island” . . . it is superior . . . to all those other lands. . . . [One may argue:] You cannot any more doubt that this island that is more excellent than all other lands truly exists somewhere in reality than you can doubt that it is in your mind; and since it is more excellent to exist not only in the mind alone but also in reality, therefore it must needs be that it exists. For if it did not exist, any other land existing in reality would be more excellent than it. . . . If, I say, someone wishes thus to persuade me that this island really exists beyond all doubt, I should either think that he was joking, or I should 6 find it hard to decide which of us I ought to judge the bigger fool.

Though he fails to explicitly create a perfect parallel, as he refers to an 7 island that “is more excellent,” the specific example Gaunilo at least implicitly gives is to replace the unqualified “That-than-which-a-greatercannot-be-thought” with the qualified “that-island-than-which-a-greatercannot-be-thought.” So with this more charitable interpretation of Gaunilo’s logic, one can see how this Island might pose a serious problem to Anselm’s argument. However, one might replace island with any crazy object, and absurdly prove the existence of all kinds of nonsensical things—flying pigs or unicorns, for instance. Since one can apparently prove that anything exists the same way as Anselm proved God exists, it appears Gaunilo might be on to something.

6. Gaunilo, Pro Insipiente, 6, in Major Works, 109.

7. Ibid.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

8 · Superiority of an Ontological Proof

Yet it is only an apparent problem. Gaunilo’s counterargument fails, despite being the most popular criticism of the argument. Anselm implies 8 that “the logic of [his own] argument would apply” only to God, but he does not clearly show us why. It is likely because of Gaunilo’s failure to lay 9 out the overload argument explicitly. Nevertheless, St. Bonaventure shows us precisely why an overload argument such as Gaunilo’s would fail.

According to St. Bonaventure, to talk about an island-than-which-agreater-cannot-be-thought is like talking about a four-sided triangle. It is rationally inconceivable, and so it does not exist in the mind or in possibility, as premise 1 of Anselm’s argument requires. Bonaventure states that since “an island is a limited being . . . there is a contradiction in the adjunct, [and that-island-than-which-a-greater-cannot-be-thought] can be 10 conceived only irrationally.” Bonaventure is showing that “a-greatercannot-be-thought” means the same thing as a perfect or infinite being, since only the infinite is that which none greater can be thought. If a thing is finite, a greater can always be thought. Logically, by claiming there is some “island-than-which-a-greater-cannot-be-thought” one is saying a finite infinite is conceivable, but, being a contradiction in terms, like a four-sided triangle, a finite infinite is not conceivable. For instance, an island has boundaries of its existence where it meets the water. So a greater can always be thought for any possible island, just as a number can 11 be increased to another number slightly more than the original number.

All things besides God are at best infinite in kind. That is, all things besides God are limited in some way. Between a limited thing and God, “there is no comparison. . . . Limit necessarily involves . . . something less 12 than that which no better can be thought.” Since only God is truly infinite, it follows that the argument, specifically premise 1, can work only with God and no other object can be “defined” into existence using Anselm’s logic. Therefore, Gaunilo’s criticism fails.

8. Anselm, Reply to Gaunilo, 3, in Major Works, 114.

9. For instance, see: Anselm, Reply to Gaunilo, 5, in Major Works, 116–117.

10. Bonaventure, Disputed Questions on the Mystery of the Trinity, Q.1, A.1, resp. 6, in Works of St. Bonaventure, Vol. 3, ed. George Marcil, O.F.M., trans. Zachary Hayes, O.F.M. (New York: St. Bonaventure University, 1979), 119.

11. Even a so-called “infinite” number line is only infinite in a particular kind (namely: quantity of a set of numbers). It is still limited by only being a certain numerical set, and not all other beings (or other number sets for that matter; e.g., all odd numbers versus even numbers, etc.).

12. Christopher M. Cullen, Bonaventure, ed. Brian Davies (New York: Oxford University Press, 2006), 65.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

Superiority of an Ontological Proof · 9

III. The Objections of St. Thomas St. Thomas Aquinas has at least three objections to St. Anselm’s argument, and the interpretation of these criticisms can vary. Against St. Anselm’s argument, St. Thomas states A) that not all call Anselm’s God “God,” B) that one cannot move from essence to existence, and C) that God’s essence cannot be understood. What merit do these criticisms hold?

A. Anselm’s “God” Aquinas states that “perhaps not everyone who hears this word ‘God’ understands it to signify something than which nothing greater can be 13 thought.” To put it another way, not everyone would be convinced that God’s existence is proven when Anselm proves something-than-whichnothing-greater-can-be-thought exists, because they may mean something else when they use the name “God.” However, whether one calls this “God” or not is irrelevant to the proof. Needless to say, most men call this thing God, and most philosophical conceptions of God are described by Anselm’s concept. If a critic enjoys using some other linguistic name for the same meaning, it is not at all relevant to the truth of the argument.

Even if a man did not call Anselm’s greatest thing “God,” the criticism does not show the argument fails to prove “that-than-which-a-greatercannot-be-thought” exists. It only shows people can have peculiar linguistic choices of words and names for meanings. Aquinas is certainly correct in pointing out that, because of linguistics, this argument might not be convincing to the average man on the street who has had little rational reflection on the conception of God. In this way, he shows the argument might not be practical for apologetics and evangelization by the theist. Nevertheless, it does not detract from the soundness of the argument in the slightest.

B. The Jump from Essence to Existence St. Thomas goes on, however: granted that everyone understands that by this word “God” is signified something than which nothing greater can be thought, nevertheless, it does not therefore follow that he understands that what the word

13. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologica, trans. Fathers of the English Dominican Province (1920), New Advent Online Edition, ed. Kevin Knight (New Advent, 2008), http://www.newadvent.org/summa/1002.htm, I, Q.2, A.1, ad. 2.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

10 · Superiority of an Ontological Proof signifies exists actually, but only that it exists mentally. Nor can it be argued that it actually exists, unless it be admitted that there 14 actually exists something than which nothing greater can be thought.

This criticism is unclear. One possible interpretation is that under Thomistic epistemology a thing’s existence (i.e., that it is), in the order of human knowledge, must be admitted prior to any inquiry to what it is (i.e., its essence). That is, perhaps for Aquinas, “seeking to formulate what 15 a thing is by means of a definition presupposes that it exists.” Aquinas himself states that for anything “the question of its essence follows on the 16 question of its existence.” In other words, in Thomism I must always first know a thing exists before I learn—presumably based on observing the thing’s actions—its essence; if I do not know it exists, then I am at least assuming it exists to talk about what it is. Another way of putting it is that one cannot go from idea to existence. Hence, under this interpretation of Thomas’s criticism, Anselm is either: (1) not following proper rules of argumentation by going from essence to existence or (2) viciously circular in begging the question that God exists before proving it.

(1) What would be wrong with going from essence to existence? Even supposing humans cannot go from essence to existence for most empirically verifiable things, there is little reason to think this empirical rule is universal or that man’s knowledge is limited to the empirical alone.

Indeed, it would seem Anselm’s argument is a proof that this rule of an empirical order of knowledge is not universal by doing exactly what this rule denies is possible: going from essence to existence, in the order of knowledge, under pain of contradiction. Consequently, it would appear Aquinas is saying one cannot get from the concept of what a thing is to its existence without showing how Anselm’s argument is wrong for doing precisely that. Therefore, it is an argument against the conclusion, but it also appears to be demonstrably false.

If Aquinas means this (i.e., that something cannot be demonstrated to exist by going from essence to existence even if logic dictates it) then 17 Aquinas would apparently be saying logic does not apply to reality itself.

14. Aquinas, I, Q.2, A.1, ad. 2.

15. Rudi te Velde, Aquinas on God: The “Divine Science” of the Summa Theologiae (Burlington, VT: Ashgate Publishing, 2006), 40.

16. Aquinas, I, Q.2, A.2, ad.2.

17. One may claim Thomas means that logic can be valid about reality but only have content when one has a posteriori premises. Hence, under this view, Anselm’s argument is valid, but is empty of anything meaningful because only propositions that are in some way derived empirically have meaning. This, of course, is self-defeating since that very proposition (that all I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

Superiority of an Ontological Proof · 11

Yet if this is so, then the composite of empirical data interpreted by logic would not tell us anything about reality since logic itself does not apply to reality. It really makes no difference if, in any given argument, the premises logically analyzed are gathered a posteriori or a priori, as long as they are admitted to be true, for the conclusions are only true about the world if the logic itself also is true. This would inevitably lead, with the help of minds wise enough, to much of our contemporary epistemological madness and ultimately to a Kantian dualism where we simply impose our a priori conceptual logic on the matter of reality with no way of knowing the things in themselves since they are only known by our purely subjective a priori baggage we bring to the table of thought and judgment.

This is of course self-defeating since any claim about how reality is (including the claim that we are stuck to the mental realm of phenomena) is impossible in such a system that cannot connect logic to reality and things in themselves. Therefore, Aquinas cannot be right simply for criticizing Anselm’s deduction of existence from essence.

(2) It is not at all clear that in going from essence to existence one is begging the question of existence. That is, it is not clear that we assume something exists in reality by talking about what something is. For instance, we can talk about unicorns, the Kingdom of Prester John, a work of fiction, or any possible thing without supposing it actually exists.

Nevertheless, in all these examples we can speak of the essence of these things that do not exist in reality. Perhaps what Aquinas means is that in any meaningful discussion of what a thing “is,” the term “is” is predicated 18 of the subject. Since “is” means the same thing as “exists” (or “exists as”), then any statement about essence is indeed assuming the thing’s existence in reality, at least apparently. The problem with the interpretation that we always predicate existence, is that it fails to recognize that the predication of “is,” in any discussion of essence, is limited to the additional predicate it functions to connect to the subject. Only when it is not so limited is Aquinas right. For example, if I say “the unicorn is,” then indeed I am saying that “the unicorn exists in reality.” However, if I say “the unicorn is white in the story” or “the unicorn is a subject of a work of fiction,” I am in effect saying “the unicorn exists as a white thing in a story” or “the unicorn exists as a subject of a work of fiction.” In neither of these two examples is

meaningful propositions are derived empirically) cannot be derived empirically. Such a view would apparently lead to the position of contemporary self-refuting Logical Positivists.

18. Or, following Kant, the copula can be called a non-predicate philosophically speaking.

Whatever one wishes to do, the meaning of “is” is still attributed to the subject in a proposition whether one calls the usage of “is” a copula or a predication.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

12 · Superiority of an Ontological Proof

the existence (in reality) of the unicorn assumed or predicated. In both instances, existence is limited to a specific type of existence in the mind, concept, or possibility. Indeed, if the unicorn refers to a non-existing (in reality) subject, such predication of “existing in reality” would be contradictory and hence impossible except verbally. Hence, when Anselm speaks of that-than-which-a-greater-cannot-be-thought, he is limiting existence of that thing to a type of mental conception or possibility, and the simple fact of assuming something exists in the mind, concept, or possibility, does not imply it exists in reality in the slightest. Aquinas, then, seems not to have realized, or failed to apply, the distinction between existence in concept and existence in reality. That is, he failed to appreciate the modal distinction between possible existence and necessary existence. The former type of existence indeed is always assumed in any discussion of essence, but the latter is not. Even if St. Thomas is wrong about the circularity in this type of demonstration in itself, what about its application specifically to God? After all, Thomas would agree that God’s essence is the same as His existence. So if we talk about God’s essence, does it not appear that we are assuming God exists since his essence is 19 existence?

The problem with seeing circularity here is that it confuses the order of being with the order of human knowledge. Humanity can at times come to knowledge of things in a different order than the order in which those very things came to be. Indeed, knowledge that begins with and proceeds through sense experience would almost always proceed from effects to 20 cause even though, in the order of being, causes always precede effects.

It certainly is true that essence and existence are one in God even though we may parse them out in the argument. Viewing this in the order of being, the argument is obviously circular. Interpreting St. Thomas this way reveals that Thomas is correct. We might as well say the “infinite being is possible,” from which we can derive it must exist since it means the same thing as the “infinite existing thing.” Yet in the order of knowledge we do not immediately see the equivalence of that-than-which-a-greater-cannotbe-thought with the fact that it exists. Obviously people often deny that God exists despite His self-evident existence. For the human mind to comprehend this self-evident existence, Anselm’s argument needs the addition of premises 2 and 3 to formally reach the conclusion that God exists in reality. Premise 1 does not suffice formally. Therefore, it cannot be

19. Aquinas, I, Q.3, A.4.

20. Even if it is merely a logical procession.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

Superiority of an Ontological Proof · 13

formally circular. Perhaps there may still be one way the argument is circular, even if it is not formally so.

One may claim circularity can be hidden analytically in the meaning of a premise if we really understood what a premise meant. After all, thatthan-which-a-greater-cannot-be-thought seems to imply it exists, just like any reference to God’s essence would. Yet to do this, one must deny all logic since all logic relies on the exitus–reditus circularity of reality to reach conclusions. That is, all logical arguments are circular since the premises of a valid argument must contain the conclusion if the meaning 21 of the premises are analyzed. The so-called fallacy of circularity only exists where any one premise of an argument is symbolized, without a particular meaning, and still contains the conclusion. This is because the validity of an argument has nothing to do with the meaning or content of the premises. For instance, the argument “all dogs are mammals; this is a dog; therefore, this is a mammal” is not circular, because it can be symbolized as follows: All x are y; z is an x; therefore, z is y. With meaning removed, “z is y” is plainly not contained in the argument, while in the following it is: “This is a mammal; all dogs are mammals; therefore, this is a mammal.” For when we symbolize it, a premise still contains the conclusion: “z is y; all x are y; therefore, z is y.” This is formal circularity.

On the other hand, logic demands that the conclusion be contained in the subject of the argument prior to the conclusion and so all sound arguments are informally circular in this way. For instance, take the formally non-circular argument above: “all dogs are mammals; this is a dog; therefore, this is a mammal.” Although not formally circular, it is circular if the meaning is analyzed since the concept of “this” (as meaningfully used in the argument) contains “dog,” and “dog” analytically contains “mammal.” Thus, just from talking about “this” we are already supposing the conclusion without knowing it (due to our order of knowledge). To deny this is to say “dog” does not mean “a thing which is a mammal (among other things)” or that “this” (as used in the argument) does not mean “something that is a dog.” If that were so, the conclusion that yields “this is a dog” contradicts itself since “this” (as used) does not mean something that is a dog. But that “this” (as used) is “not a dog” is absurd.

Therefore, Anselm’s argument is informally circular in this way just like all arguments are, and must be, if valid and sound. This is something

21. Only “so-called” fallacious as a formally circular argument is still perfectly valid, it just does not help us progress in the order of knowledge; it is impractical.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

14 · Superiority of an Ontological Proof

of great interest, however, in St. Anselm’s argument. To a critical eye, this informal circularity of existence being contained in the first premise is extremely obvious. Yet the fact that this particular type of necessary circularity is all the more obvious in St. Anselm’s argument is quite proper and further evidence of the argument’s soundness since nothing but God is a self-justifying Truth. At any rate, this interpretation of Aquinas’s criticism is thus ineffective.

C. The Mystery of God’s Essence Perhaps we are not giving Aquinas’s genius its due if we hold that he denies the possibility of ever going from essence to existence, like I suggested he did above. Maybe he meant to deny this for God’s essence specifically. Perhaps he meant that one can normally go from essence to existence, but for God one cannot because of the nature of God’s essence.

For instance, Aquinas also states “we do not know the essence of God, the 22 proposition [that God exists] is not self-evident to us.” In other words, it appears his actual criticism is that one cannot understand that that-thanwhich-a-greater-cannot-be-thought implies existence since one does not even know what the term means. God, at least in essence, is a concept no one has, save for a set of words that do not have any meaning to our finite minds. Perhaps, then, Aquinas is denying premise 1 or 3 of the argument, a denial that the concept of God exists in the mind. Certainly men do not fully understand God, but is it not understood that He must be that-thanwhich-a-greater-cannot-be-thought? If so, we have a referent in the mind.

From that, is it not clear that He exists, even if He is only seen like through a glass darkly? As Anselm says, “if you say . . . because it is not completely understood, it cannot be understood at all and cannot be in the mind, then you must say that one who cannot see the purest light of the sun directly does not see daylight, which is the same thing as the light 23 of the sun.” We also ought not be daunted by the fact that our minds are finite, for the infinite is not bound by finitude and so can dwell in finite things. Furthermore, since the most basic thought includes in it the concept of unqualified being applied to a qualified set of circumstances to give it a truth value (e.g., I am thinking), the concept of being itself is a 24 concept used in the most primitive forms of knowledge and thus needs

22. Aquinas, Q.2, A.1, co.

23. Anselm, Reply to Gaunilo, 1, in Major Works, 113.

24. Even if not reflected upon and not fully understood.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

Superiority of an Ontological Proof · 15

to be used meaningfully as an a priori condition for all knowledge. Yet being unqualified means the same thing as the infinite, which all men call God. Hence, if we have no idea of God whatsoever, then we have no idea of anything whatsoever (including reasons to doubt we have no idea of God).

Even if this interpretation of St. Thomas’s criticism were somehow effective, one could simply replace “in mind” with “in concept” or “in possibility” (in premises 1 and 3) and avoid any criticisms based on the psychological limitations of the human mind’s vague apprehension of God’s essence. Yet perhaps there is something deeper and more powerful to Aquinas’s criticism. If one does not fully know God, how is it clear that “God” is not a contradictory concept like the greatest possible island? If it is contradictory, then it is impossible and completely inconceivable. In other words, how does one know God is possible? How does one know, in accordance with premises 1 and 3, that God can exist conceptually or in mind? Can God’s logical coherency be proved?

Both Gottfried Leibniz and Blessed John Duns Scotus saw this problem themselves and noted that if God were possible (if premises 1 and 3 were true) then the ontological argument follows. Undeniably, God’s possibility is not initially obvious in our order of knowing, and premises 1 and 3 seem to unfairly slip in the assumption that God is possible. Now, a thing is only impossible (i.e., fully inconceivable) if the thing is contradictory, such as a square circle or four-sided triangle. For this reason, Scotus states that “the phrase ‘without contradiction’ must be added [to premise 1], . . . for anything, the very knowledge or thought of 25 which includes contradiction, is called ‘inconceivable.’” Hence, for Anselm’s argument to work, we must prove that a contradiction cannot arise in that-than-which-a-greater-cannot-be-thought. Scotus gives merely probable arguments as to why God is not contradictory and Leibniz attempts to give a necessary argument for the same. Scotus says: 26

the infinite seems to be the most perfect thing we can know. Now, if tonal discord so readily displeases the ear, it would be strange if some intellect did not clearly perceive the contradiction between infinite and its first object [viz. being] if such existed. For if the disagreeable becomes offensive as soon as it is perceived, why is it that no intellect naturally shrinks from the infinitely intelligible as it would from something out of

25. John Duns Scotus, Philosophical Writings, trans. Allan Wolter, O.F.M. (New York: Thomas Nelson and Sons, 1962), 73.

26. Recall that-than-which-a-greater-cannot-be-thought means the same as the infinite being. See p. 9 above.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

16 · Superiority of an Ontological Proof harmony with, and even destructive of, its first object? . . . [In the] essential being [of the infinite] . . . the intellect is fully satisfied; therefore, in it the primary object of the intellect, viz. “being,” is verified and this in 27 the highest degree.

Scotus is saying that the most basic object of the intellect is being.

Since our faculties normally recognize discord with their objects immediately upon perceiving their object, he appeals to our own experience with the conception of the infinite. In our perceiving the idea of the “infinite” as applied to “being” (the very object of the faculty of our intellect), we do not recognize an immediate discord. Additionally, our intellect appears satisfied in that it has its object to perfection or completion when a being is without limit and held before the intellect.

Since the intellect’s object is being, and its opposite is nothing (which all contradiction refers to), lack of discord and lack of dissatisfaction in the intellect suggests that the thing perceived has no contradictions. For these two reasons, the lack of discord and the satisfaction, it would appear probable that the infinite being is free of contradiction, as premise 1 of Anselm’s argument requires. Nevertheless, this argument both relies on our intellectual experience and is merely probable. Thus, for Scotus, it seems Anselm’s argument is neither properly called an a priori proof nor is it a certain proof. Leibniz appears to be more confident in Anselmian thinking than Scotus.

Unlike Scotus, Leibniz attempts to prove definitively that-than-whicha-greater-cannot-be-thought is possible. He observes that “nothing can prevent the possibility of what is without limits, without negation, and 28 consequently without contradiction.” In other words, Leibniz arrives at the conclusion that God must have no contradiction because of the very simple observation about the things needed for a contradiction that is contained in the meaning of “contradiction.” For instance, an internal contradiction only arises due to a conflicting limit or negation of that thing (e.g., limited to four-sidedness or three-sidedness). Without limits there is no possible internal contradiction, for a contradiction necessarily involves negation. One cannot object that the infinite is limited from being finite since this is not a limit. If it were, then it is a limit of limit (i.e., a negation of negation) which is a double negative or non-limit, and hence

27. Duns Scotus, 72–73.

28. Gottfried W. Leibniz, Monadology, 45, in Discourse on Metaphysics and Other Essays, trans. Daniel Garber and Roger Ariew (Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing, 1991), 74.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

Superiority of an Ontological Proof · 17

not a limit. Therefore, if something is infinite (i.e., un-negated), then a contradiction cannot arise internally in it.

Yet what of external contradiction? Might one claim that a contradiction could arise externally (i.e., in reality) to the idea of God existing? To put it more precisely, can one claim it is contradictory, and thereby not conceivable, to think of God in reality (as premise 3 requires), thus defeating Anselm’s argument? Such a person might try and defeat premise 3 by saying, as a rule, it is at least possible that all that exists must be negated in some way. Thus, to conceive the unlimited as existing in reality is possibly inconceivable and at least apparently calls the certainty of the argument’s soundness into question by this possibility (even if it is merely possible). However, to say “all that exists must be negated in some way,” is to say “all that is, is not in some way,” but this is plainly contradictory, and so necessarily false, for something cannot fully be and somehow not be. One might then try to avoid this by suggesting that it is at least possible that “all that exists in a qualified way must not be in some way.” However, this means the same as “all that exists in a negated way does not exist in all ways”; in other words, all finite things are finite. Thus, this rule does not apply to the infinite since God does not exist in qualified (finite) ways, but absolutely, and so it cannot defeat premise 3. Changing this rule to “all that exists in any way must be negated in some way” does not help either because this rule would lead us back to the first problem: namely that which is, is not, since “any” includes qualified and unqualified existence, and unqualified existence cannot be said to be qualified by pain of contradiction as shown above.

Finally, on top of this, an argument can be used to demonstrate the universal absurdity of challenging premise 3. Any rule that would establish that the infinite could not be possible in reality would be some rule that negates the infinite. Yet the infinite means the un-negated, thus no rule can negate it; otherwise it could be a negated un-negated thing, which is absurd. Thus, to suggest a contradiction in thinking of God existing in our reality involves a previous absurdity. In other words, you cannot suppose premise 3 is possibly contradictory since that is to suppose a negation of the un-negated, which is necessarily impossible. Simply put, negating the infinite is impossible.

Consequently, since that-than-which-a-greater-cannot-be-thought means the infinite, God is thus necessarily possible and not fully inconceivable. Hence St. Thomas Aquinas’s objections, despite being works of a brilliant mind, fail. Nevertheless, as sound as Anselm’s argument apparently is, it was but the beginning of mankind’s I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

18 · Superiority of an Ontological Proof

philosophical realization of God’s self-evident existence. As should be apparent by now, the argument is surely more complex than our rational “proof” for God need be. The idea of the infinite alone shows us God exists since we know it is logically impossible to negate the infinite, and all men call the infinite God. As Leibniz states, the mere idea of the infinite “by 29 itself is sufficient for us to know the existence of God a priori.”

Bibliography Anselm. Anselm of Canterbury: The Major Works. Edited by Brian Davies and G.R. Evans (New York: Oxford University Press, 1998).

Aquinas, Thomas. Summa Theologica. Translated by the Fathers of the English Dominican Province (1920). New Advent Online Edition. Edited by Kevin Knight.

Last modified 2008. http://www.newadvent.org/summa/1002.htm.

Bonaventure. Disputed Questions on the Mystery of the Trinity. In Bonaventure, Works of St. Bonaventure, Vol. 3. Edited by George Marcil, O.F.M. Translated by Zachary Hayes, O.F.M. (New York: St. Bonaventure University, 1979).

Cullen, Christopher M. Bonaventure, ed. Brian Davies (New York: Oxford University Press, 2006).

Kant, Immanuel. Critique of Pure Reason, trans. J.M.D. Meiklejohn (New York: Willey Book Co., 1943).

Leibniz, Gottfried W. Monadology. In Leibniz, Discourse on Metaphysics and Other Essays. Translated by Daniel Garber and Roger Ariew. (Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing, 1991).

Scotus, John Duns. Philosophical Writings. Translated by Allan Wolter, O.F.M. (New York: Thomas Nelson and Sons, 1962).

Velde, Rudi te. Aquinas on God: The “Divine Science” of the Summa Theologiae.

(Burlington,VT: Ashgate Publishing, 2006).

BENJAMIN THOMSEN is a seminarian for the Archdiocese of Atlanta, Georgia, and is a native of Atlanta. He is currently a philosophy student at Mundelein Seminary. Prior to seminary he received both his Bachelor of Arts degree in Philosophy and his Juris Doctor degree from the University of Georgia. He practiced for approximately 3 years as an assistant district attorney for the State of Georgia trying felony criminal cases.

29. Leibniz, Monadology, 45.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

Asceticism Based on the Works of Garrigou-Lagrange ANDREW BERGKAMP University of Saint Mary of the Lake/Mundelein Seminary

W

hen reading from the countless literary works within the rich tradition of the Catholic faith, one cannot avoid coming across the subject of asceticism. The role of asceticism within the spiritual life varies according to the authors and the different time periods.

Throughout the years many theologians covered the topic of asceticism, but Father Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange has done so extensively in recent times. Drawing from the works of many saints and theologians, GarrigouLagrange demonstrates the crucial role asceticism must play in the spiritual life of every soul.

Lagrange’s opinion on the need for asceticism comes after events such as the enlightenment and reformation, which downplayed the importance of asceticism. To counter this modern position, Lagrange covers the topic very thoroughly and in many of his works. “There is probably no more outstanding figure in the present-day Thomistic movement, and certainly no more prolific and profound writer on all the practical aspects of 1 ascetical and mystical theology, than Father Garrigou-Lagrange.” To examine Lagrange’s work, this paper begins with a general introduction to his understanding of asceticism. This will allow the reader to better understand the different divisions of asceticism put forth by Lagrange.

Next, the divisions themselves are considered, which further aids the reader in understanding why asceticism is necessary. In conclusion, based on why Lagrange says asceticism is necessary, along with the teaching of a universal call to holiness, it becomes clear why he is able to apply the necessity of asceticism to everyone.

Introduction to Asceticism Throughout the entire life of the Catholic Church, She has always maintained the idea and practice of asceticism. Jesus Himself referenced

1. Joseph Kreuter, “Christian Perfection and Contemplation,” Orate Fraters 12 (July 1938), 393.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

20 · Asceticism

2

and encouraged asceticism, though perhaps with different terms.

Periodically, heretical or schismatic sects practiced asceticism in a harmful 3 manner and to an extensive degree, such as the Albigensians. Pagan 4 societies and cultures employed various forms of asceticism as well. Thus, many different understandings of asceticism exist. Due to the possible confusion that could arise from a very broad and general term, it is helpful to know and use specific terms and contexts when engaging such a topic.

Examining asceticism according to Lagrange will lead to a more extensive understanding of what is meant by the term “asceticism.”

Lagrange defines asceticism as, “that part of theology which directs 5 souls in the struggle against sin and in the progress of virtue.” Originating 6 from the Greek word, askesis, it means the exercise of virtues. At one point in time it possibly referred to the practice or training for athletic 7 games. Lagrange explains how some of the earliest Christians adopted practices of mortification and piety, and people subsequently called them “ascetics.” He considers this continued use of asceticism as the practice of virtues, which is required for maintaining one’s way on the ascent to God. With this in mind, he cites St. John of the Cross in reference to the “perfect way.” St. John says that, because this path is narrow and steep, 8 great caution is warranted so as to not slip off the path. Practicing the different virtues helps prevent one from falling into the vices opposed to the virtues, and asceticism strengthens the ability to exercise these 9 virtues. Asceticism, therefore, is a means by which one grows in virtue, which in turn fosters holiness. The pursuit and arrival at holiness only comes about through a balanced approach to the different divisions of spiritual theology.

2. Michael Giesler, “The Enduring Value of Corporal Mortification,” Homiletic & Pastoral Review 105 (July 2005), 16–18.

3. J.D. Douglas, ed. The New International Dictionary of the Christian Church (Exeter: Paternoster Press, 1974), s.v. “Albigensians,” 22.

4. Richard Finn, Asceticism in the Graeco-Roman World (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2009), 9.

5. Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange, Christian Perfection and Contemplation (St. Louis: B. Herder Book Co., 1946), 15.

6. Finn, Asceticism in the Graeco-Roman, 9.

7. Ibid.

8. Lagrange, Christian Perfection and Contemplation, 15.

9. Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange, The Love of God and the Cross of Jesus, vol. 1 (St. Louis: B. Herder Book Co., 1947), 255–259.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

Asceticism · 21

As the aforementioned definition indicates, asceticism traditionally refers to a part, or division of spiritual theology, with mystical theology serving as the other division. Traditionally, the two were connected and not viewed in opposition to one another (as they have become in modern times). The divisions pertain to the active and contemplative aspects of life. Lagrange advises against the isolation of the two because when 10 separated, asceticism loses its vitality and mysticism loses its gravity.

Citing St. Thomas Aquinas and St. Gregory the Great, he points out the harmony between the active and contemplative life and how elements of 11 each work in tandem with one another. Holiness of life requires an adequate degree of both, and the specific division of ascetical theology has 12 as its object Christian perfection, also known as union with God. The end pursued entails various elements of asceticism, all for the sake of overcoming sin and the acquisition of virtue. Going beyond the specific division of theology, the primary intent here is to examine asceticism as an action. This precursor is not without purpose because the classification of asceticism as a division of spiritual theology points to the lived reality.

While explaining asceticism, Lagrange goes to great lengths to explain its importance. Upon approaching the level of lived theology within the Christian life, Lagrange (along with other theologians) uses the term 13 “active purification” in place of “mortification” or “asceticism.”

Nonetheless, just as the aim of ascetical theology is perfection, mortification and purification pursue the same objective. It is simply progress in charity, either through the dying to sin, or through the configuration to Christ. The etymology of mortification points to the very reality of the practice and derives from two Latin words. From the word facere, which means “to make,” and mortem, which means “death,” we 14 arrive at, to produce death. The question arises: what is being put to death? Lagrange argues anything which is disordered in the soul, which inhibits perfect union with Christ, must be mortified. Drawing from St. Thomas, Lagrange stresses, “Mortification is not . . . the destruction of nature, but the restoration or healing of nature through the destruction of

10. Lagrange, Christian Perfection and Contemplation, 42.

11. Ibid., 25.

12. Ibid., 16.

13. Lagrange, The Love of God and the Cross of Jesus, vol. 1, 245.

14. Michael Giesler, “The Body’s Forgotten Ally,” Crisis 23 (July/August 2005), 46.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

22 · Asceticism

15

sin and its consequences.” Thus, “to produce death,” does not apply to everything, but only that which is disordered.

It is important to bear in mind that mortification is not practiced for its own sake, but only as a means to an end of union with God. When its role as a means to an end is lost, the unity and harmony of the spiritual life is lost. Lagrange suggests, “It loses sight of the divine intimacy to 16 which the whole of this work should eventually lead.” He frequently explains how one approaches this end through a steady practice of mortification, continuous throughout one’s entire life. This insight originates, at least in part, from St. Francis de Sales who said, “A continual and moderate sobriety is preferable to violent abstinences, practiced 17 occasionally, and mingled with great relaxations.” However, the type of mortification and purification depends on one’s stage in the spiritual life.

Considering the human person as a complex being, dependent on God for assistance, and destined for growth in holiness, asceticism can be broken down into relevant divisions. In order to more clearly grasp Lagrange’s perspective on asceticism and understand why he views it as necessary, it is helpful to examine the divisions of ascetical purification.

Divisions of Purification The human person is both physical and spiritual, possessing a body and soul. This fact points to the need for both an exterior and interior mortification. Both forms of mortification are referred to as active 18 purification. It is active because it is self-imposed mortification.

However, while this is possible, a limit is reached at which point God must, “bring the work of active purification to deep and full completion . .

19 . so that we may attain to perfect purity.” At this stage man disposes himself to passively allow God to carry out the subsequent purification.

The two divisions of purification pertain to the detachment from sin and the more perfect configuration to Christ. Lagrange cites Luke 9:23 in support of this notion by applying, “Let him deny himself” to the active

15. Lagrange, The Love of God and the Cross of Jesus, vol. 1, 261.

16. Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange, The Three Ways of the Spiritual Life (New York: Benzinger Brothers, 1938), 70.

17. Francis de Sales, Introduction to the Devout Life (New York: Harper and Brothers Publishers, 1950), 134.

18. Lagrange, The Love of God and the Cross of Jesus, vol. 1, 245.

19. Ibid., 262.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

Asceticism · 23

death to sin, and “take up his cross” to the passive configuration to 20 Christ. Although the latter is passive, man must cooperate if he is to accept the passive purification, the acceptance of the cross. Before examining the passive purification in more depth, the active purification requires further attention.

Active Purification Active purification entails four general areas of mortification.

Lagrange presents these areas as purification of the senses, imagination and memory, intellect, and of the will. The first is exterior mortification, 21 while the last three involve interior mortification. In each aspect the objective of the purification is death to sin. Lagrange explains it as, “death 22 to death” as sin is in all reality a form of death. Purification of the senses is strongly supported by Romans 8:13 where St. Paul says, “If by the Spirit you mortify the deeds of the flesh, you shall live.” Again in 1 Corinthians 9:27 he says, “I chastise my body and bring it into subjection.” Lagrange frequently cites St. Paul as he explains how life based in the senses 23 restricts spiritual progress. Out of the four purifications, the senses present the clearest grip on the soul in the beginning.

Purification of the senses arises out of the need to go beyond the level of sensible things. Early in one’s spiritual life, knowledge of God and His 24 consolations depend on and stem from this basic level. If, however, one fails to purify the senses, a spiritual gluttony will ensue. One relies on the consolations and is overconfident in himself, ready to climb a mountain, 25 “not from the base of the mountain but halfway up the side.” At this point one experiences more intense temptations. To confront them Lagrange encourages the strengthening of the virtues, specifically chastity 26 and patience, as they both originate from the sensitive appetites. Growth in the virtues associated with the senses requires exterior mortification.

Lagrange explains that this is precisely why the Church encourages days of

20. Lagrange, The Love of God and the Cross of Jesus, vol. 1, 245.

21. Daniel Lowery, “Mortification: The Renewing Gift,” Liguorian 72 (September 1984), 52.

22. Lagrange, The Love of God and the Cross of Jesus, vol. 1, 261.

23. For example, see ibid., 252–253.

24. Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange, Three Ages of the Interior Life (St. Louis: B. Herder Book Co., 1947), vol.1, 269.

25. Ibid.

26. Ibid., 270.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

24 · Asceticism

fasting, to name one example. The purification of the senses is most fundamental, but it only marks the beginning.

Purification of the imagination and memory is an interior mortification, where one directs his gaze upward versus horizontal.

Lagrange readily admits the need for God’s grace in this endeavor, 27 regardless of one’s personal efforts. Although the imagination and memory aid us in our expression of the truth, they can sometimes inhibit us by focusing on the level of the created world instead of higher things.

Lagrange acknowledges the tendency of the imagination to wander and distract our attention, but for that reason one ought to control the attention granted to these disordered images. In line with this, he encourages the termination of useless reading and better use of one’s 28 29 time. Citing St. John of the Cross, Lagrange also expresses the need to purify the memory. All too often our memory recalls the negative aspects we experience and fails to recall God’s goodness or our hope for eternal beatitude. To correct this one must meditate on things of true importance, such as death and salvation. It is also important to foster gratitude by 30 recalling the infinite graces and benefits God bestows upon us. Moving beyond the lower faculties, the higher require purification as well.

The human intellect needs purification as a result of original sin disordering it. More will be said on why these purifications are necessary, but at this point the process is of primary concern. Although reason can achieve great heights, it involves many struggles and demands great lengths of time. The temptation to entertain intellectual curiosity or to focus on the collection of knowledge as an end versus a means can constantly plague the intellect. When one acquires knowledge, there exists yet another temptation: to allow spiritual pride to set in. If this occurs, a spiritual blindness can follow, which dramatically diminishes true spiritual 31 progress. Thus, there exists a great need for purification to ward off these temptations. Growth in the virtue of faith is how the intellect undergoes purification. The virtue of faith is the true light of the intellect and prepares one for the reception of truth. It is crucial to maintain a child-like simplicity and gaze toward God if we are to enjoy docility to the truth.

Adhering to the directives of the Church, of a spiritual director, and

27. Lagrange, Three Ages of the Interior Life, vol.1, 343.

28. Ibid., 344.

29. Ibid., 345.

30. Ibid., 350.

31. Ibid., 354–358.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

Asceticism · 25

avoiding quick judgments will further the attainment of necessary 32 docility. Establishing right order in the intellect through purification prepares the soul’s corresponding faculty, the will, to receive due attention.

Purification of the will is the final active purification in which one engages before God typically intervenes. The principle aim is to counter self-love, which is the source of all sins whereby we consider only our selfwill. Lagrange believes one’s attitude toward self-love can fall into one of 33 two categories, utilitarianism or quietism. The first focuses solely on the overall good, and only moderates self-love when it poses a disadvantage to this universal good. More specifically, it views egoism as, not morally wrong, but as an acceptable power in need of moderation. On the other hand, quietism views all self-love as disordered hope. Focusing only on the inability to attain perfect charity, one ceases to seek sanctification or 34 salvation. It is a poor excuse, used to justify spiritual sloth that naturally sets in. If one properly regulates the will, the whole person is rightly ordered. Lagrange recommends specific virtues for the sake of crushing any disordered self-love. Obedience, justice, penance, hope and charity all work with God’s grace to develop our docility to the Holy Spirit. Docility to the Holy Spirit leads to a harmony between God’s will and our own.

Holiness is more than the absence of sin; it is union with God. This union requires more than active purification. Based primarily on the writings of St. John of the Cross, Lagrange explains the need to remove any 35 remnant of opposition to the spirit of faith. In the next paragraph he quotes St. John himself on the topic: For, after all the effort of the soul, it cannot by any exertions of its own actively purify itself so as to be in the slightest degree fit for the divine union of perfection in the love of God, if God Himself does not take it 36 into His own hands and purify it in the fire.

The purification to which St. John refers is passive, and its aim is to prepare oneself for a deeper intimacy with God. Lagrange references St. John again, who says, “It is therefore clear that the understanding must be blind, as to every path along which it has to travel, in order to be united

32. Lagrange, Three Ages of the Interior Life, vol.1, 360–363.

33. Ibid., 367.

34. Ibid., 367–368.

35. Lagrange, Christian Perfection and Contemplation, 149.

36. John of the Cross, The Dark Night of the Soul (London: Thomas Baker, 1935), 16.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

26 · Asceticism

37

with God.” Thus, God subjects the soul to the passive purification of the senses.

Passive Purification The passive purification of the senses is a form of asceticism imposed on us by God. “In other words, the cross sent by God to purify us must 38 complete the work of mortification which we impose on ourselves.” In order to elevate the person beyond the sensible level, God allows the soul to experience a purgative aridity through the lack of sensible consolations.

Although the purification is done on the part of God, one must cooperate by removing any obstacles to this process. Lagrange names these obstacles as spiritual sensuality, spiritual sloth, and spiritual pride. As obstacles to overcome, they demonstrate the necessity for the passive purification, 39 since one cannot overcome them by one’s self. The aridity brought about

by God serves to destroy the roots of these defects. Throughout this process the soul undergoes, “painful anxiety, because the soul thinks that 40 it is not serving God.” Explaining St. John’s insight, Lagrange articulates the anxiety as stemming from an encounter with the, at this point, foreign 41 intimacy which God desires for the soul. The soul is not yet accustomed to the contemplation and the more perfect love which God offers the soul.

Once the soul is weaned from the level of senses, it is disposed to receive God’s love in a more perfect manner.

One last step remains in the process of passive purification, and it is 42 referred to as the purification of the spirit. Just as with the former, God performs the purification; but He delivers this cross to the person for the sake of cutting away any remaining defects or stains. Citing countless theologians and doctors of the Church, Lagrange points out the necessity of this purification, if one is to be truly configured to Christ and enjoy eternal beatitude. He goes on to explain that this purification will occur 43 either here on earth (where it is meritorious), or in purgatory. This

37. John of the Cross, The Ascent of Mount Carmel (London: Thomas Baker, 1922), 98.

38. Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange, Three Ages of the Interior Life (St. Louis: B. Herder Book Co., 1947), Vol.2, 43.

39. Ibid. 40–41.

40. John of the Cross, The Dark Night of the Soul, 38.

41. Lagrange, Three Ages of the Interior Life, Vol.2, 48–49.

42. Ibid., 353.

43. Ibid., 357–360.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

Asceticism · 27

process is not without pain, because it is here that, “pride must receive the 44 deathblow that it may give place to genuine humility.” He also explains it 45 as a mystical death, or a death of the old man. For this to transpire, God removes the illumination which the soul experienced earlier regarding the mysteries of faith. The understanding is left in ‘darkness,’ which is why it is called the dark night of the soul. Paradoxically, the cause of this perceived darkness is God’s “penetrating light of the gift of 46 understanding.” Citing St. Thomas, Lagrange says the soul perceives the darkness due to the overwhelming strength of the light, and it is painful 47 because it sheds light on the final impurities existing in the soul.

Without spiritual direction, one might experience uncertainty as to why God would allow this immense suffering to transpire, providing a 48 temptation to pull back from God. At this point, “The evil spirit even 49 tries to make her think God has rejected her.” It is crucial to remain steadfast and to maintain docility. Accepting this cross with generosity will typically allow the fruits of purification to emerge more quickly. The main effect is the perfection of the theological virtues, which signifies the full development of the spiritual life. The ultimate fruit of this painful process is perfect configuration to Christ, whereby the old defects and 50 imperfections give way to the ability to perfectly receive God’s love. The entire process of purification dovetails with the progress one makes in the spiritual life. Reviewing the divisions of asceticism, and how they correspond to the entirety of the human person (body and soul), helps to prepare one to understand the reasons for why asceticism is necessary.

The Necessity of Asceticism Lagrange lays out four basic reasons for why asceticism is necessary, and they all pertain to the forms of purification, active or passive. The first

44. Lagrange, Three Ages of the Interior Life, Vol.2, 363. Lagrange might be using the work of St. Teresa of Avila here, or they both are relying on St. John of the Cross, because the same terminology is used by St. Teresa in the third chapter of the fifth mansion in her Interior Castle.

Neither is quoted, but the paraphrasing is recognizable.

45. Lagrange, The Three Ways of the Spiritual Life, 92.

46. Lagrange, Three Ages of the Interior Life, Vol.2, 382.

47. Ibid., 384.

48. Ibid., 384–387.

49. Teresa of Avila, The Interior Castle, or, The Mansions (Rockford, Illinois: Tan Books and Publishing, 1997), 161.

50. Lagrange, The Love of God and the Cross of Jesus, vol. 1, 92.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

28 · Asceticism

reason for asceticism stems from original sin and the need to destroy its consequences. The second is to overcome the results of personal sins.

Thirdly, asceticism is necessary in light of man’s supernatural end. Finally, conformity to the divine will necessitates the last step in the ascetical life.

Relying heavily on St. Thomas, Lagrange begins his coverage of original sin.

Although the sacrament of baptism erases original sin, its consequences remain. Lagrange references Trent, which affirms that man 51 continues to struggle with an inclination towards sin. Malice continues to exist, which leads to evil, and concupiscence remains opposed to right reason. That is, reason must continue its fight against the appetites which tend toward gratification of the senses. Whether it is our fallen reason and will, or disordered irascible (an inclination with respect to an arduous object) and concupiscible appetites, we find it difficult to do the good. Our nature is severely wounded, which is why Lagrange insists on its 52 restoration through means of mortification. He considers the healing process, of mortifying concupiscence, not to be complete until one enters heaven. Therefore, with St. Paul, he says there is always a need for 53 mortification and death to sin. Of course, personal sins present an additional need for mortification.

Lagrange provides four elements of personal sin which benefit from mortification. In general it involves the virtue of penance, which counters past sins and provides future support. First, the remission of sin happens 54 through Christ’s passion, and secondarily through our own penances. It is through participation in the cross of Christ that our penances find merit. Secondly, the remission of the punishment of sin; made possible by the merit of Christ’s death, we can impose self-punishments proportionate to our capability. Out of love for God, our active purification can remove the punishment warranted by sin. Although God forgives the sin, and the 55 punishment possibly accounted for, the disordered habits remain. Thus, thirdly, mortification supports the removal of the bad habits. “These

51. Council of Trent, “Decree on Original Sin. June 17, 1546,” in Enchiridion symbolorum definitionum et declarationum de rebus fidei et morum (Compendium of Creeds, Definitions and Declarations on Matters of Faith and Morals), orig. comp. by Heinrich Denzinger, rev. by Helmut Hoping, ed. by Peter Hünermann, Robert Fastiggi and Anne Englund Nash, 43rd ed. (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 2012), 1515.

52. Lagrange, The Love of God and the Cross of Jesus, vol. 1, 267–272.

53. Lagrange, The Three Ways of the Spiritual Life, 25.

54. Lagrange, The Love of God and the Cross of Jesus, vol. 1, 276.

55. Ibid., 281.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

Asceticism · 29 56

remains . . . must be put to death,” and mortification destroys these roots. Fourthly, mortification serves to build up the resistance to future temptations. Through almsgiving, fasting, prayer, and the acceptance of trials, one establishes a defense against the devil who tempts those who 57 actively pursue perfection. After personal sins, man’s supernatural end points to the need for asceticism.

When considering the sublimity of man’s supernatural end—union with God (the ultimate reason for mortification)—it becomes clear why perfection is required. “Our supernatural end, because of its infinite sublimity, demands the mortification of the first interior movements of 58 concupiscence, pride, anger, jealousy, and envy.” Emphasis lies on mortifying the sins and temptations most opposed to the beatitudes. If one is to receive elevation to the supernatural level, activities on the natural level must receive moderation and mortification through asceticism. Impulsive activity fosters self-love, which requires termination.

Natural eagerness deserves moderation, so as to maintain prayer and docility to the promptings of the Holy Spirit. Lastly, to fight the concupiscence mentioned above, one must practice the virtues of poverty, 59 chastity, and obedience, and mortification assists this practice. After considering the supernatural end, one last reason remains for the necessity of asceticism.

The final reason pertains to the perfection of holiness, or conformity to the Divine will. At this point, the asceticism needed is no longer active, but the passive purification addressed above. When one progresses through the different stages of the spiritual life and approaches perfection, one may not fall into sin; however, one sometimes chooses lesser goods over greater ones. A lesser good is not necessarily sinful, but to arrive at 60 perfection, one must choose the greater over the lesser. Lagrange says purifications, “are necessary even though the soul may not have fallen 61 again into mortal sin, but remained always in the state of grace.” This is supported by St. Alphonsus Liguori who says, “For those, however, who are striving after perfection, mortification, even in things that are lawful, is

56. Lagrange, The Love of God and the Cross of Jesus, vol. 1, 282.

57. Ibid., 275–286.

58. Ibid., 300.

59. Ibid., 310–314.

60. Ibid., 343–344.

61. Lagrange, The Three Ways of the Spiritual Life, 79.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

30 · Asceticism

62

absolutely necessary.” Lagrange uses the scriptural analogy of gold tried 63 in fire to describe the final purification of the soul. He uses the same language as St. Bernard of Clairvaux who said, “Nor must he be washed 64 only with water; he needs to be purged and refined by fire.” This form of suffering ‘pleases the soul’ more than previous mortifications, but only the 65 most spiritually advanced souls experience this. Thus, in order to enjoy perfect union with God any lasting imperfections require passive purifications, the final forms of asceticism.

Lagrange covers asceticism and the need for mortification very thoroughly, but one will find it difficult to encounter in his writings any detailed examples of mortification, or detailed recommendations. Rather, he lays out the principles and allows the individual to decide for himself how to approach the task of embracing mortification. Lagrange reminds us of what St. Paul said to the Colossians, “We who live are always delivered unto death for Jesus’s sake” (2 Col. 4:7). Lagrange clarifies that since one is not literally always killed, St. Paul must mean a lived 66 mortification. Therefore, a continuous mortification is anticipated, but Lagrange stops short of providing advice beyond the principles and virtues to seek. Finally, one theme he almost always addresses while discussing mortification and the spiritual life is the universal call to holiness.

Call to Holiness Although the divisions help us see why Lagrange thinks asceticism is necessary, at its foundation, it is Lagrange’s assumption of a universal call to holiness that motivates his exhortation on asceticism. Prior to the Second Vatican Council, some people, theologians included, believed perfect holiness pertained only to clerics and religious members. Lumen 67 Gentium corrects this erroneous way of thinking. However, in the years prior to the council, Lagrange promoted this future development in his

62. Alphonsus Liguori, The 12 Steps to Holiness and Salvation (Rockford, IL: Tan Books and Publishing, 1986), 139.

63. Lagrange, The Three Ways of the Spiritual Life, 93.

64. Bernard of Clairvaux, On Conversion (New York: Paulist Press, 1987), 90.

65. Teresa of Avila, The Interior Castle,276.

66. Lagrange, The Love of God and the Cross of Jesus, 254.

67. Second Vatican Council, “Dogmatic Constitution on the Church: Lumen Gentium,” in Vatican Council II: The Conciliar and Post Conciliar Documents, ed. Austin Flannery (Northport, NY: Costello Publishing Company, 1996), no. 39.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

Asceticism · 31

own writings. He explains an earlier failure was not that people aimed too 68 high, but that too many believed holiness was reserved for only a few. He also discusses the mistake of believing in two separate unitive ways, the pinnacle of the spiritual life. In the 17th and 18th centuries, some put forward two unitive ways: one for the average lay person, and another for those called to a higher degree of perfection, such as clerics. Lagrange, however, firmly maintains one normal way to holiness, and this path leads to the one true unitive way.

Lagrange acknowledges “normal” does not mean common or frequent, 69 but simply the intention of God for everyone. St. Teresa of Avila, whom Lagrange cites often, believed everyone has the potential to reach the 70 seventh mansion; however, “Many are called but few are chosen.”

Likewise, St. John of the Cross, whom Lagrange cites the most, says this 71 doctrine of perfect holiness is for everyone. Finally, Christ Himself tells us, “Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Mt. 5:48).

Therefore, with much support, Lagrange can say, “The end for which all Christians are required to strive is the perfection of charity . . . whether it 72 be in the state of marriage or in the priestly or the religious life.”

Lagrange’s clear understanding of what holiness entails provides him with the foundation for his position on asceticism.

Conclusion Based on the many works of Lagrange and his reputable sources, it is clear why asceticism is necessary for perfect holiness. From the destruction of personal sins, to mere imperfections, holiness requires forms of asceticism. Furthermore, as God calls everyone to perfection, it becomes abundantly clear that asceticism has an unequivocal role to play 73 in the spiritual life of every human soul. If the language of asceticism at first appears gloomy, it quickly turns positive once one considers the greatness to which it is ordained. The sublimity of our end compels us to

68. Lagrange, Christian Perfection and Contemplation, 28.

69. Ibid., 147.

70. Teresa of Avila, The Interior Castle, 88.

71. Lagrange, Christian Perfection and Contemplation, 35.

72. Lagrange, The Three Ways of the Spiritual Life, 42.

73. Paul VI, “Paenitemini (Apostolic Constitution on Fast and Abstinence),” February 17, 1966, https://w2.vatican.va/content/paul-vi/en/apost_constitutions/documents/hf_p-vi_apc_ 19660217_paenitemini.html.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

32 · Asceticism

progress tirelessly in the spiritual life. Citing the Fathers, Lagrange recalls the fact that to not make progress in the spiritual life is to fall backwards in it. “The charity of a traveler on the way to eternity must forever be 74 increasing.” As one continues to grow in charity and holiness throughout 75 life, the practice of asceticism must never stop. Rather, depending on one’s state in the spiritual life, one merely moves from one form of asceticism to another.

Bibliography Clairvaux, Bernard. “On Conversion.” In Bernard of Clairvaux: Selected Works.

Translated by G.R. Evans. New York: Paulist Press, 1987.

De Sales, Francis. Introduction to the Devout Life. Translated by John Ryan. New York: Harper and Brothers Publishers, 1950.

Denzinger, Heinrich, original compiler. Enchiridion symbolorum definitionum et declarationum de rebus fidei et morum (Compendium of Creeds, Definitions and Declarations on Matters of Faith and Morals). In collaboration with Helmut Hoping and edited by Peter Hünermann, Robert Fastiggi and Anne Englund Nash. 43rd edition. San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 2012.

Douglas, J.D. ed. The New International Dictionary of the Christian Church. Exeter: Paternoster Press, 1974.

Finn, Richard. Asceticism in the Graeco-Roman World. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2009.

Garrigou-Lagrange, Reginald. Christian Perfection and Contemplation. Translated by Sister M. Timothea Doyle O.P. St. Louis: B. Herder Book Co., 1946.

———. The Love of God and the Cross of Jesus. Translated by Jeanne Marie, O.P. 2 vols.

St. Louis: B. Herder Book Co., 1947.

———. The Priest in Union with Christ. Translated by G.W. Shelton. Westminster, MD: The Newman Press, 1952.

———. The Three Ages of the Interior Life: Prelude of Eternal Life. Translated by M. Timothea Doyle, O.P. St. Louis: B. Herder Book Co., 1947.

———. The Three Ways of the Spiritual Life. New York: Benzinger Brothers, 1938.

74. Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange, The Priest in Union with Christ (Westminster, MD: The Newman Press, 1952), 51.

75. Lagrange, The Three Ways of the Spiritual Life, 25.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

Asceticism · 33

Giesler, Michael. “The Body’s Forgotten Ally.” Crisis 23, no. 7 (July 2005): 44–47.

———. “The Enduring Value of Corporal Mortification.” Homiletic & Pastoral Review 105, no. 10 (July 2005): 14–23.

John of the Cross. The Dark Night of the Soul. London: Thomas Baker, 1935. _____. The Ascent of Mount Carmel. Translated by David Lewis. London: Thomas Baker, 1922.

Kreuter, Joseph. “Christian Perfection and Contemplation.” Orate Fratres 12, no. 9 (July 1938): 393–396.

Liguori, Alphonsus. The 12 Steps to Holiness and Salvation. Rockford, IL: Tan Books and Publishers, Inc., 1986.

Lowery, Daniel. “Mortification: The Renewing Gift.” Ligourian 72 (September 1984): 49–52.

Paul VI. “Paenitemini (Apostolic Constitution on Fast and Abstinence).” February 17, 1966. https://w2.vatican.va/content/paul-vi/en/apost_constitutions/documents/ hf_p-vi_apc_19660217_paenitemini.html.

Second Vatican Council. “Dogmatic Constitution on the Church: Lumen Gentium.” In Vatican Council II: The Conciliar and Post Conciliar Documents. Edited by Austin Flannery. Northport, NY: Costello Publishing Company, 1996.

Teresa of Avila. The Interior Castle, or, The Mansions. Translated by The Benedictines of Stanbrook. Rockford, IL: Tan Books and Publishers, Inc., 1997.

ANDREW BERGKAMP is currently in his third year of theological studies. This summer he will be ordained a transitional deacon for the Diocese of Wichita, Kansas. Prior to entering seminary, he received a bachelor’s degree in financial planning from Fort Hays State University in Hays, Kansas. After graduation, he began his seminary studies at Kenrick-Glennon Seminary in St. Louis. After four years, he transferred to Mundelein Seminary, where he hopes to graduate in the Spring of 2017.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

For the Sake of Prayer An Analysis of Egeria’s Devotional Journey to the Holy Land JUSTIN MICHAEL RYAN University of Saint Mary of the Lake/Mundelein Seminary

Introduction

A

mong the numerous fourth-century pilgrims to the Holy Land, 1 Egeria stands out due to the depth of knowledge provided by her first-hand account of a three-year journey to Jerusalem and the surrounding area. In the surviving text, she describes her travels to many biblical sites, beginning with nine chapters on her journey up Mount Sinai, and it culminates with a lengthy description of the city of Jerusalem and liturgies there. Robert Wilken notes that “Egeria wanted to see with her own eyes the places where the saving events of the Bible had taken 2 place.” To our ears, it sounds as though Egeria desired to make a pilgrimage to the Holy Land. However, she never describes her journey as a pilgrimage. Brouria Bitton-Ashkelony observes that Egeria “used the terms orationis causa and orationis gratia to describe her pilgrimage 3 rather than the term peregrinatio.” In fact, the only possible references to pilgrims or pilgrimage in the text come from Egeria’s uses of the word 4 peregrinus in describing the liturgical inquiry of a candidate for Baptism, 5 or in describing how a bishop from Arabia welcomes peregrinos. This word could be translated as pilgrim, but in these instances it would best

1. For a thorough discussion of Egeria’s name, see Egeria, Egeria: Diary of a Pilgrimage, trans.

George E. Gingras (New York: Newman Press, 1970), 2–7, as well as John Wilkinson, Egeria’s Travels (Warminster: Aris & Phillips, 1999), 167–168. Gingras notes that Egeria has often been referred to as Aetheria, or in some earlier texts was considered St. Silvia of Aquitaine.

2. Robert L. Wilken, The First Thousand Years: A Global History of Christianity (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2012), 113.

3. Brouria Bitton-Ashkelony, Encountering the Sacred: The Debate on Christian Pilgrimage in Late Antiquity (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2005), 13.

4. Itinerarium Egeriae, 45.20.

5. Ibid., 8.18.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

Egeria’s Journey · 35 6

be translated as foreigner, stranger, or traveler. The question must then be asked, did Egeria see her journey as a pilgrimage? If so, what was her understanding of pilgrimage, and where did it come from?

Who was Egeria?

When Egeria’s Itinerarium was found in the late nineteenth century, it 7 was not a complete copy, but rather likely only the middle of the book. As a result, scholars have debated on basic details about not only her biography, but about her journey itself. This is due to the lack of external evidence regarding Egeria, thus “almost everything we know about Egeria 8 must be gathered from the internal evidence of the work itself.” As noted earlier, scholars have largely agreed on her name as Egeria. However, few other details of her life can be stated confidently.

Many scholars point to her as traveling from Galicia, the northwestern portion of modern-day Spain, due to a section in the text in which the bishop of Edessa notes welcomes her and says “I can see what a long journey this is on which your faith has brought you—right from the other 9 end of the earth.” Gingras sees this as evidence for Galicia, while Dietz and Wilkinson note Galicia as well as possibly Aquitaine, the southwestern portion of modern-day France, due to lack of conclusive evidence. Hagith Sivan adds the possibility of the river Rhone, located in southern France, due to Egeria’s description of the river’s strong current as a comparison to the Euphrates, suggesting more than just passing 10 knowledge of the Rhone. It must be remarked that Egeria may have needed to cross the Rhone on her journey to the Holy Land, which would have brought this knowledge to her. While Egeria’s place of origin and return cannot be pinpointed, it is probable that she was near the Atlantic Ocean when she embarked on her journey for the Holy Land.

Egeria makes numerous references to her ‘sisters’ throughout the text.

For example, she is describing Mount Sinai and says, “I want you to be

6. Gingras, 123.

7. Wilkinson, Egeria’s Travels, 1.

8. Patricia Wilson-Kastner, “The Pilgrimage of Egeria”, in A Lost Tradition: Women Writers of the Early Church, eds. Patricia Wilson-Kastner, et al. (Washington, DC: University Press of America, 1981), 71.

9. Wilkinson, Egeria’s Travels, 133.

10. Hagith Sivan, “Who was Egeria? Piety and Pilgrimage in the Age of Gratian,” Harvard Theological Review 81 (1988), 64.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

36 · Egeria’s Journey 11

quite clear about these mountains, reverend ladies my sisters.” These sisters are never explicitly identified as relatives nor as fellow religious women of a particular community. In fact, the title of sisters at the time 12 could apply to Christians and pagans alike. Another thought is that Egeria belonged to a network of lay people committed to Christian 13 observance at home and on pilgrimage. Along these lines, Egeria’s audience is “perhaps . . . a ‘reading circle’ of devout and pious women who 14 met regularly to study and discuss the Scriptures.” Putting these suggestions together, while it would be anachronistic to say she was part of a third-order congregation, this may be a useful analogy for her intended audience of ‘sisters.’

Valerius of Bierzo wrote a letter in the seventh century to exhort “his 15 monks about the way to achieve the kingdom of heaven.” Within this letter, he describes Egeria’s journey as a way of pointing to her as “an 16 example of following God which is marvelous profitable for many.” In 17 describing Egeria, “Valerius refers to Egeria as a sanctimonialis, or nun.”

Maribel Dietz takes Valerius at his word and makes the argument that Egeria was a nun, because monastic life incorporated travel in late antiquity. Gingras largely agrees, but also suggests that Egeria was a 18 consecrated virgin writing to other religious women. Other scholars, such as Hagith Sivan, see Egeria as a Christian layperson. She calls into 19 question Valerius’s ability to describe Egeria as a nun. In addition to the view that Egeria could not have been part of an institution given her

11. Wilkinson, Egeria’s Travels, 110.

12. Sivan, “Who was Egeria,” 63.

13. Rachel Moriarty, “Egeria’s Lay Congregation,” in The Holy Land, Holy Lands, and Christian History: Papers Read at the 1998 Summer Meeting and the 1999 Winter Meeting of the Ecclesiastical History Society, R.N. Swanson, ed. (Woodbridge, Suffolk, UK: The Boydell Press, 2000), 61.

14. Hagith Sivan, “Holy Land Pilgrimage and Western Audiences: Some Reflections on Egeria and Her Circle,” Classical Quarterly 38 (2:1988), 531.

15. Sivan, “Who was Egeria,” 59–60.

16. Wilkinson, Egeria’s Travels, 203.

17. Maribel Dietz, Wandering Monks, Pilgrims, and Pilgrims: Ascetic Travel in the Mediterranean World, A.D. 300-800 (University Park: The Pennsylvania State University Press, 2005), 48.

18. Gingras, 8, 11.

19. See Sivan, “Who was Egeria,” 59–64. She goes so far as to argue that Valerius’s letter reveals a “general ignorance and lack of attention to detail. . . . We cannot, therefore, accept Valerius’s testimony regarding either Egeria’s homeland or her status in society with any great confidence.”

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

Egeria’s Journey · 37

lengthy journey, Sivan points out that readers could not learn much about monasticism from the text. This is unlike examples of monks making journeys to spend time with other monks, because they would typically 20 write about miracles associated with monastic life. This debate will return later in the paper due to its impact on Egeria’s possible motivations for her journey to the Holy Land. The topic of Egeria’s ecclesial status is not settled, but it is clear that Egeria was a Christian woman writing to a group of fellow Christian women.

Until recently, the dates for Egeria’s journey remained contested due to the only internal evidence pointing to a possible range between 363 and 21 540 A.D. Gingras suggests that the early fifth century is the best date for her journey due to his view that Egeria quotes from St. Jerome’s edited version of the Onomasticon that was completed after 390 A.D., and that “the narrative best describes the ecclesiastical and liturgical milieu of the 22 early fifth century. However, more recent scholars advocate for her journey taking place between Easter of 381 and Easter of 384 A.D. due to a 23 conclusive article completed by Paul Devos. This places her well within the period of numerous pilgrimages being made to the Holy Land after the reign of Constantine. This context can shed light on whether or not she saw her iter, or journey, as a pilgrimage to a sacred site like it is understood today.

Pilgrimage in Late Antiquity Evidence of journeys akin to pilgrimages can be found well before the fourth century amongst Greeks and Jews. Jewish pilgrimage, even after the destruction of the Temple, was primarily communal. Wilkinson notes the possibility of individual pilgrimages to Jewish holy sites, based on his view 24 that Jewish people “revered their Fathers as martyrs.” Nonetheless, he

20. Sivan, “Who was Egeria,” 71.

21. Dietz, 45.

22. Gingras, 13–15, 20. His view is based on a study completed by J. Ziegler in 1931 that showed Egeria quoting directly from Jerome’s version of the Onomasticon. Gingras does not offer a conclusion on the dates of Egeria’s pilgrimage. Given more recent evidence discussed in footnote 23, it is possible that Egeria wrote her text well after her journey, which recent scholars agree occurred well before Gingras’ suggestion.

23. Dietz, 46. See also Wilkinson, 169.

24. John Wilkinson, “Jewish Holy Places and the Origins of Christian Pilgrimage,” in The Blessings of Pilgrimage, ed. Robert G. Ousterhout (Urbana, IL: University of Illinois Press, 1990), 51.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

38 · Egeria’s Journey

contends that if Christians were venerating at Jewish holy sites, then “it is thus to be presumed that from the outset Christians in the Holy Land 25 inherited pilgrimage from the Jews.” However, David Satran has called evidence for a Jewish cult of the martyrs into question, since it is based on a text titled The Lives of the Prophets. This text is often seen as Jewish in origin, but Satran argues that it should be considered a Christian text, or 26 at the very least, more likely Christian than Jewish. For Jews living in the post-biblical period, “there is little or no hard evidence (beyond that garnered from the vitae themselves) for the veneration of the tombs of the 27 prophets.” In addition, Allen Kerkeslager notes that “Jewish pilgrimage to [various tombs] was primarily an extension of relationships of kinship and 28 national identity.” He goes on to caution looking for Jewish precedents in Christian pilgrimage due to different meanings associated with 29 pilgrimage between the two groups. Based on this evidence, it is likely that Christians retained elements of Jewish pilgrimage, but did not base their individual pilgrimages off Jewish models, which were primarily communal and part of a religious requirement.

Ancient Greek pilgrimages centered on mystery cults, desire for healing from the deity Asklepios or guidance from an oracle, and festivals 30 that sometimes involved competition. This leads Matthew Dillon to state that “most of the pilgrimages in the Greek world were undertaken by 31 private individuals who . . . decided to travel to a particular site.”

However, there is scant evidence among Greeks for the devotional type of pilgrimage taken up by Christians to the Holy Land and other holy sites 32 during Antiquity. The religious motives for many of the pilgrimages are tenuous, particularly among individuals. Scott Scullion points out that there is no Greek word for pilgrimage, which leads him to say that Greek

25. Wilkinson, Egeria’s Travels, 6.

26. David Satran, Biblical Prophets in Byzantine Palestine: Reassessing the Lives of the Prophets, (Leiden, The Netherlands: E.J. Brill, 1995), 63.

27. Ibid., 47.

28. Allen Kerkeslager, “Jewish Pilgrimage and Jewish Identity,” in Pilgrimage and Holy Space in Late Antique Egypt, David Frankfurter, ed. (Boston: Brill, 1998), 122.

29. Ibid., 225.

30. Matthew Dillon, Pilgrims and Pilgrimage in Ancient Greece, (London: Routledge, 1997). For a thorough discussion of these types of pilgrimage, see especially pages 60–123.

31. Ibid., 11.

32. Ibid., 60–123.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

Egeria’s Journey · 39 33

“pilgrims” merely went to oracles, festivals, or healing shrines. His point of the irrelevance of applying the word pilgrimage to these journeys 34 centers on a definition of pilgrimage that includes the sacred. Even if the definition of pilgrimage in a broad sense is still debated, the religious element of Christian pilgrimages seems generally accepted. Based on this information, it is clear why Oded Irshai states matter-of-factly, “It seems safe to regard the form of devotional (orationis causa) pilgrimage especially to the Holy Land as a rather novel development in the world of 35 fourth-century Christianity.” Related to Egeria, it is evident that her devotional form of pilgrimage has a connection to Greek pilgrimages in terms of making a journey to a particular place, but does not share many similarities beyond that. As a result, a Christian context must be examined to see the roots of the unique form of devotional pilgrimage taken up in the fourth century.

Pilgrimage grew in the fourth century among Christians, and has roots potentially as early as the second century with the visit of Melito of Sardis 36 to Jerusalem. E.D. Hunt attributes this growth to “news of the discovery 37 of the Holy Sepulchre and the Christian reclamation of the holy city.” He goes on to say that this growth in the practice of pilgrimage factored into the planning of the new church buildings that could accommodate large groups on sites associated with Biblical events. This is due to the physical 38 evidence of large open areas and surrounding colonnades. This differs with the opinion that Constantine recognized the potential for pilgrimage to fuel growth to the economy or unity, and that pilgrimage was thus a byproduct of his desire. Under this view, it is possible that the growth of pilgrimage was a result of Constantine’s desire to enhance it through

33. Scott Scullion, “‘Pilgrimage’ and Greek Religion: Sacred and Secular in the Pagan Polis,” in Pilgrimage in Graeco-Roman and Early Christian Antiquity: Seeing the Gods, Jas Elsner and Ian Rutherford, eds. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005), 126.

34. Jas Elsner and Ian Rutherford, eds., Pilgrimage in Graeco-Roman & Early Christian Antiquity: Seeing the Gods (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005), 33–34. Elsner and Rutherford point out that these journeys could still be labeled pilgrimages, since the “assumption that ‘pilgrimage’ has to belong to the ‘sacred’ . . . may be unreasonable.”

35. Oded Irshai, “The Christian Appropriation of Jerusalem in the Fourth Century: The Case of the Bordeaux Pilgrim,” The Jewish Quarterly Review 99 (Fall 2009): 465.

36. There is some dispute as to whether or not Melito could be considered a pilgrim. For a favorable view see E.D. Hunt, Holy Land Pilgrimage in the Later Roman Empire A.D. 312–460 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1982), 83. For unfavorable views, cf. Dietz, 35, and Bitton-Ashkelony, 19.

37. Hunt, 19.

38. Ibid., 20.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

40 · Egeria’s Journey

churches built specifically for pilgrims, but nevertheless the desire for pilgrimage preceded his building campaign.

Pilgrimage grew significantly in the fourth century, but the source of pilgrimage is not entirely that Christians were simply waiting for the opportunity to travel to holy sites until Constantine. Approaching from a different angle, R.A. Markus notes that “Christianity originally had no holy 39 places and for some three centuries continued to have none.” For example, for pagan Greeks, the term ‘holy’ applied to places, not to 40 people. Jewish people “venerated places that marked the sites of 41 significant events in the life of the people.” While this would become similar to a Christian understanding of sacred places, thinkers, such as Gregory of Nyssa, were leery of recommending pilgrimages to holy sites due to St. Paul. He clearly shows the Christian opposition to this in saying that “the God who made the world and everything in it, being Lord of heaven and earth, does not live in shrines made by man” (Acts 17:24).

These thinkers saw Christianity as distinct from Judaism in that it “had swept away the locally-based worship of the Jews, tied to the Temple in Jerusalem, and had replaced it with a universal faith—which demanded no 42 resort to any holy places in Jerusalem.” Gregory of Nyssa also cited the “classical theological case against sacralization of place: God is no more 43 present in one place than in another.” St. Jerome, on the other hand, had a far more positive outlook toward holy sites, particularly in his letters 44 extolling pilgrimage. His support is drawn from the Scriptures, as well as 45 the language and imagery developing around the cult of the martyrs.

Thus, a Christian sense of sacred place did not come from external sources like the Greeks and Jews, but rather an understanding of sacred place developed from within Christianity, particularly from its cult of the martyrs.

39. R.A. Markus, “How on Earth Could Places Become Holy? Origins of the Christian Idea of Holy Places,” Journal of Early Christian Studies 2 (Fall 1994), 258.

40. Ibid., 271.

41. Robert L. Wilken, The Land Called Holy (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1992), 107.

42. Hunt, 91.

43. Wilken, Land Called Holy, 117.

44. Bitton-Ashkelony, 68. It is important to note that St. Jerome did not whole-heartedly support pilgrimage to the Holy Land, as evidenced by his apparently contradictory Letters 46 and 58. For further discussion of Jerome’s views of pilgrimage, see Bitton-Ashkelony, 65-105.

45. Ibid., 70, 72.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

Egeria’s Journey · 41

As Christians would bury martyrs, they would return each year to commemorate them and their actions. Through this practice, a “cultural event of some importance was taking place . . . [a] transition from models of accommodation and adaptation that were materially invisible to a new 46 level of Christian identity that was palpable and visible.” By the fourth century, this practice of venerating the tombs of martyrs was already well founded in the Christian Church. Through this transition, Christians began to view sites as holy, not in an intrinsic way to the places themselves, but because of their association with God’s actions there or 47 through someone bearing witness to Him there. As a result, Markus says that for Egeria, “as for all pilgrims, the place enshrined a piece of sacred 48 history and owed its holiness to the event.” As Christian pilgrimage grew, it became intimately connected with the growing monastic movement in the fourth century.

Christian pilgrims of late antiquity had connections to Jewish and Greek pilgrimage, but did not simply follow their lead. Christians were far closer to Jews than Greeks in their understanding of what made a site sacred. Jewish and Christian pilgrimage is linked by the recognition that God’s sacred actions through His people make certain places holy and worthy of pilgrimage. However, Christian pilgrimage developed from the cult of the martyrs, whereas Jewish pilgrimage was primarily communal and related to religious requirements. Therefore, many fourth-century Christian pilgrims to Jerusalem, including Egeria, probably modeled their journeys after the cult of the martyrs.

Monastic Travel or Pilgrimage?

Monasticism grew in the fourth century substantially, thanks to the influence of early monks like St. Anthony of the Desert. By Egeria’s time, Egypt and Syria had a large number of devout Christians living a new, 49 solitary way of life. Monasticism also grew at this time in the Holy Land, and monks would often take residence at sites associated with Scriptural events. “In this way pilgrimage in Palestine became a wholly Christian venture developed by monks and promoted by frequent visits of

46. Wilken, First Thousand Years, 54.

47. Ibid., 270–271.

48. R.A. Markus, The End of Ancient Christianity (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1990), 153.

49. Wilken, First Thousand Years, 100.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

42 · Egeria’s Journey 50

pilgrims.” Pilgrimage and monasticism became intertwined as they grew together, therefore the terms pilgrim and monk were still far from the definitions in use today. In other words, Egeria made her journey to the Holy Land at a time when much travel was related to early monasticism rather than devotional pilgrimage, raising the question as to whether her journey may have been a form of monastic travel.

Dietz notes that other women traveled to the Holy Land as “monastics, consecrated virgins, who as part of their ascetic practice, went 51 wandering to visit holy places and, more important, holy people.” She argues that monastic practice at this time often included travels, which is why it is tenable to maintain the view from Valerius’s letter that Egeria was a nun. She takes another step to suggest that Egeria traveled to the Holy Land due to an ascetic practice rather than as a pilgrimage. Dietz understands pilgrimage as “an organized religious journey to a particular 52 holy place, the purpose of which is to be healed or absolved of sins.” As Egeria notes frequently in her text, she visits sites where monks are living, which suggests she was less concerned with the places themselves.

Because Egeria seems less concerned with visiting particular holy places, the length of time she spent in the Holy Land, and the fact that she never mentions healing or absolution, Dietz concludes that Egeria did not go on pilgrimage. Rather, “she is traveling . . . to pursue her own personal religious expression, which, in fourth-century terms, would mean not 53 pilgrimage but monasticism.” Dietz shares the view that Egeria was a nun with many scholars, but she is unique in her view that Egeria’s travels were monastic, not a pilgrimage.

The debate on Egeria’s status as a layperson or nun remains an open question, but a couple points made by Dietz in support of her view that Egeria was not a pilgrim appear spurious. It is true that Egeria makes no reference in the text to seeking healing or absolution of sins, which is an aspect of the pilgrimage definition that Dietz uses. However, many scholars do not share Dietz’s view that pilgrimage necessarily includes a healing motive. Dillon notes the frequency of Greek pilgrimages to seek 54 healing, but uses a definition only focusing on visiting a sacred site. Also,

50. Hagith Sivan, “The Emergence of Christian Palestine,” in The Blessings of Pilgrimage, Robert G. Ousterhout, ed. (Urbana, IL: University of Illinois Press, 1990), 62.

51. Dietz, 49.

52. Ibid., 27.

53. Ibid., 52.

54. Dillon, xviii.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

Egeria’s Journey · 43 55

Jas Elsner notes that this is a category of pilgrimage among many.

Markus only includes healing as a hope of many pilgrims, rather than as essential to pilgrimage. He sees pilgrimage as a practice of visiting sacred 56 sites. Egeria’s lack of a healing motive does not preclude her journey from being labeled a pilgrimage.

Dietz also argues that Egeria is not a pilgrim because “She was not as interested in the holy places themselves as much as in the holy people she 57 met.” Contrary to typical motivations of pilgrims to reach a particular geographic goal, “Egeria’s interest in meeting other monks suggests a ‘religious’ way of life. This was a life of permanent pilgrimage and 58 journey.” However, Julie Ann Smith describes how monks often appropriated biblical sites as Christian by setting up monasteries, in places like Mount Sinai. Through this process, “the monks themselves became an 59 object of pilgrimage.” As such, Egeria’s numerous descriptions of time spent with, and seeking out, monks can be seen as an aspect of pilgrimage, rather than as a monk seeking to compare notes or simply meet colleagues. For example, when Basil journeyed to the Palestine and Egypt in 351, he was focused on visiting monks and ascetics to learn how they 60 lived such holy lives. He “hardly mentions the holy places.” In other words, Basil likely did not see his journey as a pilgrim, but rather as one searching for information about monks: “Gregory of Nazianzus alluded to 61 the motive for Basil’s travels as ‘not alien to his project of philosophy.’”

On the other hand, Egeria spends the majority of her time describing sites and liturgies. This contrast shows that her journey can still be seen as motivated by personal devotion to see holy sites, rather than as part of her life within a monastic community. The value of making a journey to the Holy Land or to another holy site was not a universally accepted concept amongst contemporaries of Egeria. This debate informs how Egeria may have seen her journey to the Holy Land.

55. Elsner and Rutherford, 17.

56. Markus, The End of Ancient Christianity, 151.

57. Dietz, 51.

58. Ibid., 66.

59. Julie Ann Smith, “My Lord’s Native Land: Mapping the Christian Holy Land,” Church History 76 (March 2009): 25.

60. Wilkinson, Egeria’s Travels, 6. See also Bitton-Ashkelony, 47.

61. Bitton-Ashkelony, 46.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

44 · Egeria’s Journey

Debate on Pilgrimage Corresponding with the growth of pilgrimage, many Church fathers sought to respond to the phenomenon they observed. Their responses reflect that pilgrimage was fueled by popular enthusiasm that “ran well 62 ahead of informed clerical opinion on the matter.” St. Gregory of Nyssa wrote conflicting opinions on pilgrimage to the Holy Land. He visited Palestine in 380 to see the holy sites, and yet returned with a certain ambivalence for pilgrimage, especially to the Holy Land. His second epistle is quoted by Protestants as evidence for why they reject pious acts 63 like pilgrimage. Yet, he describes it positively in his third epistle, “When I saw and felt the holy places, I became filled with such a great joy that 64 words cannot describe it.” E.D. Hunt expands on Gregory’s sense of ambivalence by connecting his visit to the Holy Land to his famous Life of Moses. He suggests that Gregory saw the physical remains as “important only as an indication of that inner spirituality which should be the 65 possession of Christians anywhere.” In the Life of Moses, Gregory gives a historical treatment to Moses’ life that does not reference the biblical 66 sites. It seems that Wilkinson has the answer for Gregory’s ambivalence when he suggests that he only argued against pilgrimage as a requirement 67 like it had been for Jews, but he still saw value in it as a voluntary act.

St. Cyril of Jerusalem had a far more positive take on pilgrimage, particularly to the Holy Land. While giving a catechesis near Golgotha regarding the value of the Cross to faith, he says “others merely hear, we 68 see and touch.” Because of the ability people in Jerusalem had to experience biblical sites visibly, “Cyril asserts that physical proofs in the

62. Markus, “How on Earth,” 261.

63. Bitton-Ashkelony, 30.

64. Ibid., 51.

65. Hunt, Holy Land Pilgrimage, 89.

66. Ibid., 92.

67. Wilkinson, “Jewish Holy Sites,” 42. As cited in n. 65, it is important to note that Gregory’s focus is on the soul’s interior journey to God, and that he would examine anything material related to that journey with suspicion. While outside the scope of this paper, further study would be warranted in connecting Gregory’s own Platonist tendencies with his aforementioned suspicions of earthly pilgrimage. For example, “Both in the formal character of his writings and in the assumed, if unexpressed, premises on which they rest, the influence of Greek philosophy, above all that of Plato, is everywhere evident.” Anthony Meredith, Gregory of Nyssa (London: Routledge, 1999), 7. For a discussion of Gregory’s nuanced Platonism, see also Meredith, 135– 138.

68. Markus, “How on Earth,” 259.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

Egeria’s Journey · 45

immediate environs can be used to convince unbelievers and to 69 strengthen the belief of the faithful.” Some scholars suggest that Cyril’s enthusiasm for people to experience the places of Jesus’ life was fueled by a desire to increase his episcopal status. As a result, Bitton-Ashkelony suggests that Gregory’s second letter was actually written to undermine 70 Cyril’s efforts to establish the special status of the Jerusalem church. An examination of this Cyril’s motives is outside the scope of this paper. As a result, another Church father will be sought to try and reconcile Gregory’s ambivalence and Cyril’s enthusiasm for pilgrimage.

St. Augustine perhaps provides an approach striking the middle ground between Cyril and Gregory in his views on pilgrimage. Admittedly, most of St. Augustine’s discussions of pilgrimage have to do with a journey 71 to God, “seldom a journey to an earthly place.” However, in Letter 78, Augustine recommends that a priest and his accuser in a dispute make a pilgrimage to a martyr’s tomb, rather than try and adjudicate the situation without reliable information. This seems to be a contradiction with his loyal adherence to the Pauline doctrine on holy space being potentially 72 anywhere. Connected to the aforementioned article by Markus, a resolution can be found in that Augustine promoted the cult of the 73 martyrs, because the “martyrs were all . . . witnesses to this faith.” This paves the way for Augustine’s acceptance of the practice of pilgrimage to a particular sacred place. Harmon goes on to point out that Augustine, in City of God XXII, sees pilgrimage as making the person “a preeminent witness to the realities of the Christian faith in Christ, specifically the 74 resurrection to eternal life.” Based on this discussion, there is clear evidence of Church Fathers debating the merits of pilgrimage, but reaching similar conclusions regarding its spiritual benefits as a voluntary undertaking.

69. Bitton-Ashkelony, 61.

70. Ibid., 62.

71. Thomas P. Harmon, “Augustine on Pilgrimage for the Whole Man,” Gregorianum 95 (1: 2014), 95.

72. Bitton-Ashkelony, 123.

73. Harmon, 100.

74. Ibid., 100–101.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

46 · Egeria’s Journey

Egeria’s Journey There are other writers who mention Egeria’s journey, one of whom (Valerius) has already been identified. Peter the Deacon also wrote about 75 Egeria’s journey in the 12th century. Based on his writing as well as Valerius, some scholars have tried to create an outline describing a journey that included Samaria and Galilee, as well as Egypt. For example, Wilkinson suggests Egeria’s pilgrimage began in Jerusalem before the 76 surviving text picks up in 383. It is unknown whether Egeria did journey to Ephesus or returned home after returning to Constantinople in July 384.

Nonetheless, it is evident even in the minimal external writings that this lengthy journey was not motivated by religious tourism, but by devotion.

Looking closely at Peter the Deacon’s writing reveals a character trait in Egeria that can be corroborated with her existing text. In her visit to Egypt, Peter the Deacon records Egeria reporting the sight of Pharaoh’s 77 chariot tracks at the shore of the Red Sea. It is highly unlikely she actually saw tracks from the time of Moses, but this nonetheless speaks to the literalism and desire to connect Scripture to places with which Egeria traveled in and around the Holy Land.

From the surviving text, it is evident that Egeria had a routine upon reaching each desired site. She follows the ritual of reading the Scripture connected to each site she visits. Upon reaching Mount Horeb, she is shown the site where Elijah heard the word of God after fleeing from King Ahab, and quotes 1 Kings 19:9 in the text. After reading the associated 78 passage, she offers a prayer, and attends Mass at the site. Then she adds, “For this was always very much our custom, that, whenever we should come to places that I had desired to visit, the proper passage from 79 Scripture would be read.” This is an example of why Gingras notes that Egeria’s central purpose “was to vivify and confirm her faith in the truths of Scripture through personal contact with those places marked by the 80 action of God on man.” Hunt concurs that she is spurred on by “the urge

75. For English translations of these two writings, see Wilkinson’s Egeria’s Travels. On page 3 of Wilkinson’s book, he notes other more fragmentary references to Egeria.

76. For a potential complete timeline of Egeria’s journey, see Wilkinson, Egeria’s Travels, 35– 44.

77. E.D. Hunt, “The Itinerary of Egeria,” in Swanson, The Holy Land, Holy Lands, and Christian History, 38–39.

78. Wilkinson, Egeria’s Travels, 111.

79. Gingras, 54.

80. Ibid., 19.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

Egeria’s Journey · 47 81

to see and be shown in fullest detail every inch of a scriptural landscape.”

This custom of matching Scripture to the associated sites is central to understanding Egeria’s journey.

The second half of the surviving text details the Jerusalem liturgies she attended. It is likely that when Egeria arrived in Jerusalem its bishop was 82 the aforementioned Cyril of Jerusalem. Cyril included prayers specifically for pilgrims that flowed from the ability to remember the Passion and 83 Resurrection in the places they occurred. Her desire to visit sites related to Scriptures can be seen in her descriptions of liturgies at Golgotha, among other sites. Overall, Egeria’s text as well as external evidence points to her central desire for her long journey to encounter the Scriptures in a special way by going to the places mentioned themselves.

This is the primary reason why Egeria is so often described as a pilgrim, but the point remains, did she see her journey as a pilgrimage?

Admittedly, a conclusive answer may never be possible, but a likely one may be found when looking back to Gregory of Nyssa. While Gregory does not write a narrative account of his journey like Egeria did, his use of the phrase “for the sake of prayer” when describing going to a specific place 84 suggests that he saw his journey to the Holy Land as devotional. This same phrase is actually translated by Wilkinson as pilgrimage, whereas 85 Wilson-Kastner and Gingras stick with the more literal translation.

Accepting that a journey to a particular sacred place for the sake of prayer (orationis causa) constitutes devotional pilgrimage, it is likely that Egeria would agree with this phrase being applied to her journey. By documenting her journey in far more literal language than the spiritual language of Gregory, it seems clear that Egeria did see journey as a pilgrimage, desiring to experience God’s actions in Scripture in a special way through visits to the sites and the Jerusalem liturgies.

81. Hunt, “Itinerary of Egeria,” 40.

82. Wilkinson, Egeria’s Travels, 50.

83. Ibid., 82–83.

84. Bitton-Ashkelony, 48.

85. Also, Egeria discusses a return to her native land after three years that is translated as “pilgrimage” in Wilkinson, Egeria’s Travels, 124. However, this translation is opposed to “visit the holy places” in Gingras, 70, and “seen all the holy places” in Wilson-Kastner, 101.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

48 · Egeria’s Journey

Conclusion While Egeria would not have seen herself as unique amongst the waves of pilgrims to the Holy Land, her first-hand account is a unique testament to the phenomenon of Holy Land pilgrimage in late Antiquity.

Living in an era where monasticism and pilgrimage were both in their infancy, it is not possible yet to say definitively whether Egeria traveled as a monk or as a devoted layperson. Nonetheless, it is possible to say that she was motivated to travel from Western Europe to see with her own eyes the places made holy by God’s actions and by the holy monks. The debate on pilgrimage looked different in Egeria’s time than now, and focused more on abuses as well as encouraging “people to see that it was possible 86 to seek holiness away from holy sites as well as at them.” Pilgrimage grew to be a recommended practice, even among those who had been leery of viewing sites as sacred, such as St. Augustine. As a result, Egeria likely saw her journey not as religious tourism or as fulfilling a monastic role, but as an expression of her own devotion to Christianity. Therefore, readers can look to Egeria and see someone who visited the Holy Land as a peregrinus, i.e., not just as a foreigner, but as a pilgrim.

Bibliography Bitton-Ashkelony, Brouria. Encountering the Sacred: The Debate on Christian Pilgrimage in Late Antiquity. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2005.

Dietz, Maribel. Wandering Monks, Pilgrims, and Pilgrims: Ascetic Travel in the Mediterranean World, A.D. 300–800. University Park: The Pennsylvania State University Press, 2005.

Dillon, Matthew. Pilgrims and Pilgrimage in Ancient Greece. London: Routledge, 1997.

Egeria. Egeria: Diary of a Pilgrimage. Trans. George E. Gingras. New York: Newman Press, 1970.

———. Itinerarium Egeriae.

Elsner, Jas and Ian Rutherford, eds. Pilgrimage in Graeco-Roman & Early Christian Antiquity: Seeing the Gods. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005.

86. Harmon, 96.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

Egeria’s Journey · 49

Harmon, Thomas P. “Augustine on Pilgrimage for the Whole Man.” Gregorianum 95, no.

1 (2014): 95-104.

Harpur, James. Sacred Tracks: 2000 Years of Christian Pilgrimage. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2002.

Hunt, E.D. Holy Land Pilgrimage in the Later Roman Empire A.D. 312–460. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1982.

———. “The Itinerary of Egeria,” in Swanson, The Holy Land, Holy Lands, and Christian, 34-54.

Irshai, Oded. “The Christian Appropriation of Jerusalem in the Fourth Century: The Case of the Bordeaux Pilgrim.” The Jewish Quarterly Review 99: (Fall 2009): 465–486.

Kerkeslager, Allen. “Jewish Pilgrimage and Jewish Identity in Hellenistic and Early Roman Egypt,” in Pilgrimage and Holy Space in Late Antique Egypt, ed. David Frankfurter, 99–228. Boston: Brill, 1998.

Markus, R.A. “How on Earth Could Places Become Holy? Origins of the Christian Idea of Holy Places.” Journal of Early Christian Studies 2 (Fall 1994): 257–271.

———. The End of Ancient Christianity. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1990.

Meredith S.J., Anthony. Gregory of Nyssa. London: Routledge, 1999.

Moriarty, Rachel. “Egeria’s Lay Congregation,” in Swanson, The Holy Land, Holy Lands, and Christian History, 55-66.

Ousterhout, Robert G., ed. The Blessings of Pilgrimage. Urbana, IL: University of Illinois Press, 1990.

Scullion, Scott. “‘Pilgrimage’ and Greek Religion: Sacred and Secular in the Pagan Polis,” in Elsner and Rutherford, Pilgrimage in Graeco-Roman and Early Christian Antiquity, 111-130.

Sivan, Hagith. “Holy Land Pilgrimage and Western Audiences: Some Reflections on Egeria and Her Circle.” Classical Quarterly 38: (2: 1988): 529–536.

———. “The Emergence of Christian Palestine,” in Ousterhout, The Blessings of Pilgrimage, 54-65.

———. “Who was Egeria? Piety and Pilgrimage in the Age of Gratian.” Harvard Theological Review 81 (1988): 59–72.

Smith, Julie Ann. “My Lord’s Native Land: Mapping the Christian Holy Land.” Church History 76: (March 2009): 1–31.

Swanson, R.N., ed. The Holy Land, Holy Lands, and Christian History: Papers Read at the 1998 Summer Meeting and the 1999 Winter Meeting of the Ecclesiastical History Society. Woodbridge, Suffolk, UK: The Boydell Press, 2000.

Wilken, Robert L. The First Thousand Years: A Global History of Christianity. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2012.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

50 · Egeria’s Journey ———. The Land Called Holy. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1992.

Wilkinson, John. Egeria’s Travels. Warminster: Aris & Phillips, 1999.

———. “Jewish Holy Places and the Origins of Christian Pilgrimage,” in Ousterhout, The Blessings of Pilgrimage, 41–53.

Wilson-Kastner, Patricia. “The Pilgrimage of Egeria,” in A Lost Tradition: Women Writers of the Early Church, eds. Patricia Wilson-Kastner, et al. Washington, DC: University Press of America, 1981.

JUSTIN MICHAEL RYAN is in his second year of theology studies at Mundelein Seminary. Studying for the Archdiocese of Seattle, he anticipates receiving ordination to the priesthood in the Summer of 2018. Prior to entering seminary formation, he received a Bachelor in Business Administration degree in Accounting from Gonzaga University, and later worked as a commercial real estate appraiser.

I N T E R C O N N E C T I O N S · Vol. 3 · 2016

“In order that they may illumine the mysteries of salvation as completely as possible, [seminarians] should learn to penetrate them more deeply ... and to perceive their interconnections.”

— OPTATAM TOTIUS, NO. 16

A publication of University of Saint Mary of the Lake/Mundelein Seminary 1000 E. Maple Ave., Mundelein, IL 60060 www.usml.edu