Review of Morwena Ludlow, Universal Salvation: Eschatology in The Thought of Gregory of Nyssa and Karl Rahner

Download as pdf or txt
Download as pdf or txt
You are on page 1of 11

Morwena Ludlow, Universal Salvation: Eschatology in the Thought of

Gregory of Nyssa and Karl Rahner, The Oxford Theological Monographs


Series. Oxford, NY: Oxford University Press, 2000. 304 pages. ISBN
0-19-827022-4.

Morwena Ludlow’s Universal Salvation addresses a controversial


topic that has enjoyed a resurgence of interest in modern times, namely
that, at the eschaton, God will inevitably (or, automatically) save all
people. It begins with a general introduction putting forward the scope
of the author’s work, and is divided into two main sections. The first is
on the eschatological thought of Gregory of Nyssa, which contains three
chapters subdivided into various headings. The second is on Karl Rahner,
and comprises four chapters that are similarly subdivided. The work
culminates in a comparative assessment of the eschatological thinking of
the two authors. Ludlow justifies this diachronic assessment by affirming
that, despite their differences, both the Nyssen and Rahner addressed
eschatology in ways that can shed light on contemporary discussions
concerning universal salvation. My review will limit its scope to her
presentation of St Gregory, making it directly relevant to this edition of
Phronema.

At the end of the introduction, the author delineates the scope of


her work, which is to contextualise the eschatological thinking of both St
Gregory and Rahner in order to assess the way in which they responded

168
Phronema Volume 27(2), 2012

to the questions of how all people will be saved (and the relevant
anthropological themes of freedom, knowledge, ethical character, etc.)
and whether all people will be saved (which raises issues concerning
God’s nature, revelation, scriptural exegesis, etc.). This analysis will be
followed, she asserts (pp. 17-18), by a concluding chapter evaluating just
how well they did in their respective intellectual environs and whether or
not we can learn anything from them today when it comes to universal
salvation. But before moving to the first chapter, we must say a few words
on the way in which Ludlow begins her introduction; for in it she sets the
parameters for the entire approach.

Distinguishing two streams of eschatological thought in the


early Christian Church, the universalist stream, “which asserted that all
people would be saved, and a dualistic stream, which stressed the two
parallel fates of an eternal heaven and an eternal hell” (p. 1), the author
does not, unfortunately, account for the early Church’s emphasis on
the immanence of the eschatological experience as constituting a free
and deifying participation in the life of Christ, here and now. Indeed,
the work consistently associates the eschaton with the ‘last things,’ on
occasion even obviating the standard already/not yet tension – elaborated
1
liturgically in Fr Alexander Schmemann’s Of the Water and Spirit and
from a historical perspective in Fr Georges Florovsky’s ‘The Patristic
2
Age and Eschatology’ – that can indeed be found in the Nyssen’s
works; such as, for instance, in his Catechetical Oration in relation to the
ecclesial context (PG 45, 88C-89B). This tension stipulates that although
in Christ all things are ‘already’ saved, this process has ‘not yet’ been
consummated, and will not be until the end of time. Ludlow traces the
historical trajectory of the idea, beginning with the Pauline verses (such as
1 Cor 15:28) that seem to intimate it, followed by its use in the writings of
Origen and St Gregory, together with the anathematisation of Origenistic
doctrines – along with apokatastasis – in the Fifth Ecumenical Council
in 553. Bypassing the Middle Ages, she affirms that there were sporadic
resurgences of universalism in the Reformation, but it did not become
fashionable again until the twentieth century where – despite the horrors
produced by humanity in that epoch – the notion of God consigning

169
Book Review

people to an eternal hell became intolerable to many thinkers. That it is


not God who consigns people to hell, but rather the orientation of the
human will – which can either be in synergy with God (and hence life),
or turned away from him (i.e. death/Hades) – is a truism in the writings
of St Gregory that seems to have been missed here. Further contemporary
issues leading to the influx of interest in universalism are the questions
raised through pluralism as to whether or not Christianity is the only means
of salvation (p. 4). This was compounded by the complexities of human
intentionality drawn from biologically inherited tendencies, not to mention
advancements in evolutionary biology and scientific cosmology, to name a
few (p. 4). I would interpret this – especially the latter two points – as the
final succumbing of the modern mind to nature over personhood, where
the will to decide is impaired and the salvation of all people becomes the
inevitable outcome of an arbitrary god who unilaterally decides our fate,
irrespective of human freedom.

The first chapter begins with a succinct outline of St Gregory’s


life and literary accomplishments (pp. 21-30) before attempting to give
the patristic background to his eschatology (pp. 30-37). In this latter
section, the trajectories of the dualistic and universalistic trends are traced.
Certain saints, most notably Irenaeus and Basil, are depicted as adhering
to the former, whereas the author exerts much effort in demonstrating the
Origenistic background of Nyssen’s ostensible universalism. Distinguishing
the points in which Origen and St Gregory differed and agreed (pp. 33, 36-
37), Ludlow moves to a definition of the term apokatastasis (pp. 38-44).
Since the Fifth Ecumenical Council, the term has mostly been associated
with the Origenistic notions of the pre-existence of souls, which she asserts
was denied by the Nyssen (p. 37), and the salvation of demons (which
was only hinted as a possibility – see PG 45, 69AB), and here Ludlow
defines it both etymologically and in the context of the New Testament
(occurring once in Acts 3:21) and the writings of the Alexandrians Clement
and Origen, and finally St Gregory of Nyssa. For the latter the term is in
fact flexible, because whilst it sometimes appears in connection with the
restitution/salvation of the whole cosmos and the utter destruction of evil,
it does not necessarily carry with it any sense of universalism; a prudent

170
Phronema Volume 27(2), 2012

observation by Ludlow, which opens up her second chapter on ‘Perfection


in the Resurrection’ (pp. 44-45).

Ludlow’s goal in the second chapter (pp. 45-46) is twofold: to


analyse the saint’s anthropology as conditioned by the doctrines of
the creation, Fall, and revelation, and to determine the extent to which
Gregory’s view of human nature commits him to the assertion that
universal salvation is possible, and not inevitable. However, the author then
changes the direction of the argument by stating that there is additional
evidence to suggest that the Nyssen also affirmed universal salvation (p.
46). This evidence is suggested in three major sections subdivided into
various headings. The first section is entitled ‘Return to Paradise?’ (pp.
46-64) and includes subheadings on the creation and the Fall, the image
of God in humanity, and the saint’s ruminations on apatheia, desire and
love. In the first subheading she argues, quite rightly, that far from being
interpreted as a return to the prelapsarian state, the eschaton should be
envisaged as “more of a forward looking attainment of an ideal” (p. 49)
where humanity regains this ideal. In the second, she concludes that the
image of God exists exclusively in human nature in general, and hence it
can be restored in humanity as a whole. Finally, in the third, she asserts
that at the eschaton the soul, purified by the passions, will be naturally
attracted to God. All of these themes then contribute to her next section
on the ‘Resurrection’ (pp. 64-73), which St Gregory indeed argues will
take place for everyone, and her last section on the ‘Vision of Heaven’
(pp. 73-76) that she implies is universally applicable.

It is clear that, from this point onwards, the author has organised
her second chapter in such a way as to indicate a doctrine of universal
salvation in the Nyssen, which is the topic of her third and final chapter
on the saint, aptly called ‘Universal Perfection’ (pp. 77-111). In this
chapter, she produces ‘Evidence for Gregory’s Universalism’ (pp. 77-85),
observing the relevant excerpts taken from various Gregorian texts. She
then looks at the ‘Evidence from the Nature of Punishment in Gregory’s
Theology’ (pp. 82-85), concluding that despite the punitive nature of the
judgment, this punishment is not eternal and at the eschaton all will be
redeemed. These themes set the parameters for the following section,

171
Book Review

entitled ‘Gregory’s Arguments for Universal Salvation’ (pp. 86-95), which


begins with a subheading arguing ‘[…] From the Nature of Evil’ (pp. 86-
89), and, reflecting sentiments established in chapter one, an additional
subtitle arguing ‘[…] From the Unity of Humanity’ (pp. 89-95). Under the
first subtitle, the author discusses the saint’s firm belief that since God will
be “all in all” (1 Cor 15:28) then evil will cease to exist; though she calls
evil a “finite nature” (p. 88) when, in fact, it is defined by St Gregory as a
privatio boni that has no substance of its own, but is located in the misuse
of free will. It is the material gathered under the second subtitle, however,
which is the most problematic. Linking it back to the relevant subheading
in chapter one, Ludlow states that since the image of God can be found
in human nature in toto, and Christ has saved humanity in its entirety by
assuming our nature, then universalism is assured. But, as a logical outcome
of this subordination of the incarnation, death and resurrection to a grand
eschatological scheme culminating in universalism (p. 92), the author
continues that the Nyssen’s view that the Logos assumed and divinised
humanity obviates the need for personal human effort in the salvific process
– thereby leaving the saint free to espouse universalism. This rendering of
the saint’s thought in fact opens the door for a novel conclusion expressed
at the end of the third and final section on St Gregory, namely that, since
for the saint God will be “all in all” at the eschaton, freedom of choice
must be, in the life to come, entirely abrogated (pp. 108-109).

I will not assess this third section – entitled ‘Universal Salvation


and Human Freedom’ (pp. 95-111) – in detail, because with the exception
of the subheadings on ‘Divine Pedagogy’ and ‘Moral Perfection’ it is based
on assumptions that have already been established in the previous two
sections. The author’s assertion, however, that St Gregory approached the
incarnation in such a way as to nullify human effort hence freeing himself
up to espouse universalism (p. 93), is unfounded. Firstly, St Gregory
frequently emphasised the importance of freedom in his works, such as
his On the Soul and Resurrection (PG 46, 11A-160C) and Catechetical
Oration (PG 45, 9A-106C); the two texts on which I will base my following
observations. Secondly, the saint possessed a thoroughly Christocentric
eschatological vision which did not, as the work in question suggests,

172
Phronema Volume 27(2), 2012

prioritise the future second coming at the expense of the incarnation,


death, and resurrection of the Lord. For the Nyssen, Christ has already
accomplished the restoration of all things, the apokatastasis, in his person
(PG 45, 66D-68A); what remains is for human beings to assimilate this
restoration in their own lives (PG 45, 92A). St Gregory articulated this
restoration in terms of the need to cultivate virtue in this life, which will
have a direct impact upon our experience of the apokatastasis at the
eschaton (PG 45, 92A; PG 46, 84A). Conversely, failure to cultivate virtue
in this life will require us to be purged in the life to come; a purgation which
the saint rather inconsistently referred to as both eternal (PG 46, 100A) and
as having an ‘expiration date.’ With reference to the latter, the cessation
of this purgation is suggested only as an outcome of the fullness of God’s
presence at the eschaton that will entirely obliterate evil (PG 46, 101A).
Although this implies universalism, St Gregory’s ostensible references to
this doctrine must be contextualised in relation to his immediate challenges
as a fourth century Christian bishop. These challenges stem mainly from
the Manichaean worldview that ascribed ontological significance to evil
and, since evil was bound with the matter of which human beings were
constituted, limited their ability to pursue goodness freely (PG 45, 29A,
PG 46, 124A).

The final section of the book gives a comparative assessment of St


Gregory’s and Karl Rahner’s respective views on universalism under the
following headings, ‘Will all be saved?’ (pp. 238-48), ‘How will all be
saved?’ (pp. 248-57) and ‘Conclusions’ (pp. 257-77). The second heading is
divided into three sections, the first two addressing the extent to which our
actions in this life condition our experience of the eschaton, and the final
addressing the afterlife per se. Under the first of these subheadings, entitled
‘This Life: Philosophia and Decision’ (pp. 248-52), the author reiterates
that St Gregory affirmed universal salvation as a certainty (whereas Rahner
posited it as a hope). Throughout, a qualitative comparison is undertaken
in order to determine which of the two authors is more relevant for our
contemporary context. For instance, the ethics of the two writers are
addressed, with the affirmation that the Nyssen’s are “troublesome” (p.
251) when read from a post-Kantian perspective. That is because the life

173
Book Review

of philosophia leading to apathia (or, dispassion) advocated by St Gregory,


anchored in “works” and thereby overemphasising the human element in
salvation, can be, according to Ludlow, “selfish” (p. 250) when compared
to Rahner’s use of the concept of decision, which is manifested in the
selfless love of one’s neighbour which, irrespective of whether or not one
is a Christian, is tantamount to loving God (pp. 249, 251). I do not doubt
the positive implications of Rahner’s view, which Ludlow states combined
“faith and works” (p. 249) in a way which St Gregory’s philosophia-
apathia schema ostensibly did not. But here the author fails to consider St
Gregory within the ecclesial context, where the term philosophy (since the
early Christian apologists) became associated with an existential ‘love of
wisdom’ exemplified by the Christian lifestyle where good works were in
fact an outcome of genuine faith in the Lord. Indeed, St Gregory’s frequent
exhortation to imitate Christ in the Catechetical Oration (PG 45, 88AB;
85D-88A) necessarily implies a way of life undertaken in ‘philosophical
altruism’ (Christ being the “wisdom” of the Father, who gave himself up
for the life of the world). But traditional Christian spirituality in this period
(as practiced by both the holy desert dwellers and the saintly figures in the
cities) dictated that this imitatio Christi was impossible for one who had
not reached a certain level of apathia; for it was considered a truism that
in order to selflessly love one’s neighbour one must not be ‘passionately’
attached to him or her (hence, apathia as the antidote to the pathē). St
Gregory’s penetrating awareness of this, manifested throughout his works,
perhaps contributed to the acknowledgement of his sainthood.

A further problem arises in the second section under the heading


‘How will all be saved?’ Moving from the faith/works dialectic to how the
respective writers address the relationship between divinity and humanity,
the author asserts that Rahner avoids Pelagianism by affirming that God is
the source of any human effort to reach out to him (p. 253). Once again, I do
not doubt this positive assessment of this eminent Catholic theologian. But
the contention that St Gregory’s notion of synergeia hints that God is made
to respond to the activity of human beings (p. 253) – accentuated by further
implicit accusations of the Nyssen’s ‘Pelagianism’ on page 268 – is both
anachronistic and inconsistent with the saint’s Christocentric eschatology,

174
Phronema Volume 27(2), 2012

which posits that although we must actively and freely strive to imitate
Christ within the ecclesial context, this is only possible because of the
Lord’s divine initiative, i.e., his realisation (and divinisation) of all things
– including our humanity – in himself, and in the grace which he freely
distributes within the ecclesial context (PG 45, 85D-88A; 97B). Hence, for
the saint, the relationship between divinity and humanity finds its perennial
locus within the person of the God-man Jesus Christ, whose life we are
called to both imitate and partake of through synergy. This denotes that
the Nyssen did not prioritise human works to God’s providential activity
(à la the Pelagianists), and it also means that the already/not yet tension
of the eschaton/apokatastasis unfolds on a personal level within the lives
of those who undertake the restorative Christian journey.

In the third section on the post-mortem experience of ‘Human


Freedom and Life in God’ (pp. 254-57), the author compares the two
authors’ conceptions of time and how this is translated to the eschatological
experience (or, apokatastasis). It is asserted that, for St Gregory, God brings
about universal salvation by imposing punishment “on those who did not
repent in their lifetime” (p. 255). The saint, however, does not envisage
the ‘punitive’ fire as imposed by God ad extra; rather, it is the evil that is
mixed up with our nature (but not identified with it) ad intra that needs to
be purified in order that we might be made worthy of the life in God (PG
46, 101A; PG 45, 69A). The juridical approach towards the cleansing fire
undertaken here by the author influences her conclusions concerning the
saint espousing universal salvation; for although the Nyssen maintains our
freedom in this life, Ludlow here reiterates that for the Cappadocian this
freedom will be obliterated so that God, by applying a “passive experience
of punishment” (p. 256), might coerce all people to love him, which is
freedom in the truest sense. This conclusion, however, is hindered by two
factors. Firstly, and as already mentioned, it is an outcome of a juridical
assessment of the cleansing fire, which we have seen in St Gregory is
not imposed ad extra but reforms us ad intra. Secondly, St Gregory of
Nyssa remains entirely silent on what will happen to our free will in the
afterlife. Since he believed, however, that freedom is characteristic of our
creation in God’s image (PG 45, 24C), there is no reason to presume that

175
Book Review

this fundamental aspect of our personhood will not be preserved in the


life to come, albeit in a transfigured manner.

The ‘Conclusions’ are further subdivided into three sections.


The first of these compares the similarities in St Gregory and Rahner’s
respective approaches to universalism (pp. 258-65) in order to determine
whether or not it is in fact a Christian doctrine. It is clear, however, from
her summary of Rahner’s views that although Rahner must have read
the Nyssen (p. 116), he didn’t necessarily either rely on (or even use) the
saint in his espousal of universalism as a hope. In fact, in outlining the
similarities in their respective approaches the work presents a general
summary of creation-fall-salvation (with varying emphases on free will
and universalism – pp. 262-63) that could be found in any number of
Christian authors, irrespective of their historical context or ecclesial/
hermeneutic tradition. All in all, this comparison leaves the reader with
a sense of uneasiness, given that it contrasts a fourth century Christian
saint-bishop, who both belonged and contributed to the development of a
specific ecclesial tradition preserved by the Eastern Orthodox Church, and
a twentieth century Roman Catholic theologian who used transcendental
Thomism and existentialism to address challenges that were peculiar to
his own immediate context. Indicatively, the second section (pp. 266-70)
affirms that whilst there does exist a “common core content” (p. 268)
between St Gregory’s and Rahner’s eschatologies that does not undermine
the basic development of the doctrine of apokatastasis, nevertheless the
content of universal salvation has been deeply affected by both authors.
We have seen, however, that for the Nyssen apokatastasis (not to be
equated with universalism) is not simply a speculative doctrine, but an
eschatological hope anchored in humanity’s encounter with God the Son.
Instead of referring to their renditions of apokatastasis as altering the
content of a doctrine, perhaps a better way of rendering this, in regards to
both authors, would have been as follows: that their mode of expression
concerning this eschatological hope varied according to their convictions,
challenges, and the needs (and mindsets/vocabularies) of their respective
epochs. Ludlow aptly lists the contemporary ‘needs’ which apokatastasis,
understood as universalism, can address in her third and final section

176
Phronema Volume 27(2), 2012

(‘Looking to the Future’ – pp. 270-77), where she pinpoints globalisation,


which as a phenomenon has highlighted the many diverse issues affecting
our “multi-ethnic and multi-faith world” (p. 275). Within this globalised
framework, our increasing scientific knowledge concerning humanity’s
place in the universe, along with our insights into human consciousness
and an ever-expanding dialogue with physicists, mathematicians and
philosophers on the concept of time, may help contemporary theologians
to communicate and even go beyond both St Gregory and Rahner’s ideas
of apokatastasis (pp. 275-77). I am grateful for Ludlow’s exhortations
towards inter- (or even trans-) disciplinary approaches to the fathers
and theology that, unfortunately, are often neglected by many scholars,
especially those working within those disciplines in the humanities that are
circumscribed by positivism. However, her conclusion neglects the most
significant aspect in St Gregory of Nyssa’s thinking, which is the centrality
of Christ to the eschatological experience. Indeed, it is this neglect that,
despite this work’s merits, prevents it from giving an authentic assessment
of the Nyssen’s eschatological vision. As we have seen, although for the
saint both the sacramental/ecclesial and virtuous life have a bearing on
how we will experience the apokatastasis at the end of the age, still this
is only because Christ has already established all things in himself; a
restoration which he distributes freely, as a gift. So, what remains to be
learnt from Nyssen is that in order to communicate this salvific message
(sans universalism) to our globalised world, we must ardently pursue
Christ who remains at the center of the saint’s eschatological vision as
Rex et Redemptor Mundi. Despite the above-mentioned shortcomings, the
work does in fact constitute a genuine attempt to make Nyssen relevant
for contemporary discussions on universalism. Moreover, its daring
comparison of a representative patristic writer with the work of a recent
theologian – i.e. Karl Rahner – indicates that eschatology is just as much
a burning issue today as it was in the past, and perhaps will remain so,
until the close of the age.

Mario Baghos
St Andrew’s Greek Orthodox Theological College

177
Book Review

Notes
1
Cf. Alexander Schmemann, Of the Water and Spirit: A Liturgical Study
of Baptism (Crestwood, NY: St Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1974), 17.
2
Cf. Georges Florovsky, ‘The Patristic Age and Eschatology: An
Introduction,’ in The Collected Works of Georges Florovsky, Volume
Four: Aspects of Church History (Vaduz: Buchervertriebsanstalt,
1987), 63-64.

178

You might also like