In The Rise of Christian Theology and the End of Ancient Metaphysics (hereafter RoCT), Johannes Zachhuber has written a book that should easily be considered one of the most important in the field of Patristic theology since Lewis Ayres’ Nicaea and Its Legacy was published in 2004.[1]Like Ayres, Zachhuber is hardly satisfied to stay within the realm of detailed historical work, branching out with some particularly suggestive things to say about the Western tradition at large. The work embodies a sophisticated level of detail, and continues themes in recent decades of Patristic thought that have deployed such granularity to deconstruct and correct many “big picture” ideas in historical and systematic theology which seek validation through Patristic pedigree. It will doubtless come as something of a surprise to many therefore that Zachhuber’s latest book can be seen as a purification of, and legitimate heir to, the work of Eastern Orthodox theologian John Zizioulas, whose broader theological claims have been so often harrowed by that same meticulous Patristic scholarship of the last quarter century or so. Specifically, there are two major ways in which RoCT corrects and expands upon some of the themes that catapulted Zizioulas to the forefront of the theological world several decades ago. First, he corrects Zizioulas’ reliance upon an artificial unity among the Cappadocians, instead identifying an ontological revolution arising from the plurality caused by the Christological legacy of internal Cappadocian tensions. Second, Zachhuber disembeds many key Patristic insights from a simplistic Eastern and Western theological schema that so often hampers Zizioulas and those who follow him. In doing so, Zachhuber ultimately provides an excellent example of how granular historical work can still interact with the excitement of bold genealogical ideas. My humble goal here is to provide a bit of broader context to some of what I consider to be Zachhuber’s major achievements.
Cappadocians Now!
It is now difficult to remember a time when “the Cappadocians” were yet to become a ubiquitous theological shorthand for everything ranging from praise for those who dislike Augustine to an Eastern panacea for Western theological woes. Wernger Jaeger, for example, argued that the Cappadocians had created the synthesis of classical philosophy and Christian theology, reconciling Athens and Jerusalem.[2] Regardless of such praise, no doubt a major force for solidifying the eastern trio of Basil of Caesarea (330–379), Gregory of Nyssa (c.335–395), and Gregory of Nazianzus (329–389) was rather the work of John Zizioulas. In 1985 with the English publication of Zizioulas’ Being as Communion, the Anglophone theological world was treated to an explosive event that can now be isolated as a formative moment in twentieth century theology.[3] It was all the more remarkable as one of the first instances in which Eastern Christian theological resources of the so-called neo-Patristic movement began to be seriously considered as viable dialogue partners and supplements for Western theology.[4]
Focusing the efforts of many predecessors, Zizioulas argued that the Niceno-Constantinopolitan trinitarian debate of the fourth century was not an event cloistered within the walls of Christianity. Rather, it was of such epochal significance that it fundamentally transformed philosophical thought by eschewing the previous Greek metaphysical focus on impersonal substances and causes.[5] “The Greek fathers’ main success,” argued Zizioulas, “rests in the identification of truth [and God] with communion.”[6] The Cappadocian fathers, in the light of Nicaea, differentiated hypostasis and ousia (previously synonyms for “being”) in such a way that, respectively, individuality and universality become distinct but related. The trinitarian debates over person and nature came to emphasize, so Zizoulas would argue, that the notion of personhood and communion—not nature and substance–were primal in God.[7] This “being as communion” thesis in both its metaphysical and historical components together created a unique insight—again as Zizioulas argued—which if it had been properly followed in the West would have incited a philosophical revolution pruning away many problems like secularism, atheism, and impersonal theology before they had time to grow. Beyond the historical and genealogical analysis, “being as communion” was also a metaphysical or ontological element in Zizioulas’ constructive proposals for theology, and so given priority as an interpretive category to understand the Church, society, creation, and other theological loci. The effect of Zizioulas’ book was immediate and dramatic, coinciding with a ground swell of appreciation for the Cappapdocians during the 1980s, as well as general aplomb for the broad umbrella of “social trinitarianism” and thinking (arguably mistakenly) of Zizioulas as an ally in that endeavor. One could not throw a rock for the next two decades without hitting a theology professor incorporating Zizioulas’ historical or systematic insights at some level.[8]
As we have mentioned, however, Zizioulas’ reception within Patristic scholarship differs markedly from that which he warmly received in in systematic theology,[9] and Being as Communion hardly emerged unscathed from the Patristic research that began to appear after his initial and subsequent publications. On the one hand, many, like Lucien Turcescu, argued that the specifics of Zizioulas’ notion of personhood, communion, and substance did not reflect the reality of the debates surrounding Nicaea and beyond.[10] In fact, methodological doubts about contemporary twentieth century handling of ancient sources, went beyond this[11] and questioned why Zizioulas seemed to produce highly reductive accounts of the Cappadocians presented as the essence of their theology.[12] Even the formula “one substance, three persons,” attributed as the so-called “Cappadocian settlement,” surprisingly did not even occur in their work, but was most likely a summary formula by Didymus the Blind.[13]
“Many of the most iconic distinctions supposedly characterizing the East-West bifurcation in fact came about by way of conflicts in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries—divisions which were then projected back onto the tradition by way of new and often polemically skewed categories used to understand and classify the theological tradition in terms somewhat alien to the past but useful for the proprietary conflicts of the present.”
Zachhuber’s book embodies many of these concerns regarding how to characterize Patristic theology without losing granularity in the vein of Zizioulas. Zachhuber, like Zizioulas, focuses (initially) on the Cappadocians, but argues that each had a distinct approach, and that these, along with unresolved tensions in what Zachhuber terms the “abstract” and “concrete” levels of analysis occurring amid internal Cappadocian dialogue, were elements that contributed to the directions of later Christological controversies. In fact, ironically, in complete opposition to Zizioulas, Zachhuber remarks that the focus of the Cappadocians was not the individual but that “Cappadocian philosophy as a whole is geared toward the universal” (69). Yet “the fact that the ‘ontological revolution’ in Patristic philosophy of which Zizioulas spoke, cannot be identified with the Cappadocians, does not mean that it never happened” (70). Rather, Zachhuber boldly contends that it was within the fires of the fifth and sixth century Christological debates, which arose from the very plurality of the Cappadocians, that the role of the individual began to be forged with its current ontological density.
East and West
Another feature of Zizioulas’ work is the fact that many of his assertions gain their sharpness, and even some of their structure and content, from a larger dualism between the Christian East and West that, for him, stand as representatives of two quite different ways of doing theology.[14] This presupposition—reinforced by Zizoulas’ argument that the ontological revolution of the Cappadocians was a sorely needed corrective for supposed deficiencies of Western theism stemming from Augustine and Aquinas, to name but two of those identified as delinquents—deeply embedded itself into many subsequent works of Trinitarian thought published in the 1980s and 1990s.[15] This was no accident, but a load bearing architectural feature of Zizoulas’ constructive thought—one inherited from trends begun in earnest when many theologians who would become staples of the neo-Patristic movement, were exiled from their home in Russia during the Bolshevik revolution.[16] These thinkers found themselves trying to reassert and cultivate an Eastern identity via their Patristic scholarship while adjusting to life in a Paris controlled largely by Catholic neo-Thomists and nouvelle theologians(though the latter were often seen by George Florovsky and Vladimir Lossky as somewhat uneasy allies).[17]
“Zachhuber’s work gives what appears to be an opportunity to reconsider this misunderstood aspect of Augustine’s thought, adding itself as a resource to the growing number of works describing parallels and intersections between East and West.”
What has become evident since Being and Communion’s publication is that despite (often legitimate) complaints of historical and historiographical mishandling by its Western confreres, many aspects of the duality of East and West as it is present in twentieth century work arose in part from the East’s own superficial engagement with—indeed construction of—“the West.”[18] While some scholars continue to emphasize the deep historical-structural nature of the East-West split in theology,[19] the emerging consensus as of late appears to emphasize how much of the divide is in fact not perennial, not essential, and not readily attributable to structural differences in actual theology (though certainly some differences do persist without being candidates for structural or essential divides). Rather, many of the most iconic distinctions supposedly characterizing the East-West bifurcation in fact came about by way of conflicts in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries—divisions which were then projected back onto the tradition by way of new and often polemically skewed categories used to understand and classify the theological tradition in terms somewhat alien to the past but useful for the proprietary conflicts of the present.[20] As but one example, it has recently been demonstrated rather convincingly that some of the historical pictures of the Cappadocians and their Western counterparts drawn by Zizoulas arose as materials useful for prosecuting contemporary historiographical and theological disagreements with T.F. Torrance (another extremely influential figure in the twentieth century) over the nature and significance of both Patristic and systematic theology.[21] As Aristotle Papanikolaou puts it, many neo-Patristic theologians like Zizioulas or Vladimir Lossky, to demonstrate Eastern thought, also “illustrate [their points]. . . by construct[ing] a history of eastern and western patristic thought.”[22]
Now, Zachhuber does not tackle these aspects of the division between Eastern and Western theology directly. However, as the reader internalizes the masterful way in which Zachhuber describes the divisions, distinctions, and reconciliations in the fifth century Christological debates as a byproduct of latent ambiguities within the Cappadocian notions of hypostasisand ousia, one is reminded of another figure also navigating these same ambiguities: Augustine. Infamously, the East and West division has been (by Zizoulas and others) reinforced in part by remarking upon Augustine’s apparent inability to understand the fine nuances of Eastern (often Cappadocian) theology. Augustine’s perplexity at the meaning and difference of ousia and hypostasis, is not really a matter of Augustine’s “deficient” trinitarianism trading on notions of substance or psychological analogies, or his poor Greek (which most likely surpassed today’s most gifted seminarians, whatever it was lacking). Rather, as Richard Cross has adeptly shown, Augustine is particularly confused because hypostasis, defined as distinct from ousia since it is that by which the persons are different from each other, is nonetheless something equally shared among the three—thereby making it also fit the new definition of ousia as that which is common.[23] In other words, Augustine is concerned with finding the appropriate “species” term for “person” that does not result in allowing the equation of “three people = three gods” or “one essence = one person.” Curiously, the language Cross uses to unpack Augustine’s careful exploration of what exactly it is about the language that perplexes him bears a striking resemblance to that which Zachhuber uses to set up the latent tensions within Cappadocian theology which caused the branching paths between the contending fifth century Christological positions.
Inevitably, the partial reception of the Cappadocian system caused conceptual complications on both sides. The miaphysites cogently insisted that according to Cappadocian logic something that was said of universal nature had to apply to all individual members of the class. If, then, as their opponents claimed, the two natures of the Chalcedonian formula were universal divinity and humanity, the Incarnation would have to be said of the whole Trinity, and its object would be humanity in its entirety.
(312)
These are, remarkably, ideas that show up in Books5 and 7 of Augustine’s De Trinitate in which he parses out why exactly he is not entirely certain of the content of the Eastern (Cappadocian) distinction between ousia and hypostasis. More importantly, they show up as broader points of consideration as Augustine discusses Christ’s incarnation in ways often reminiscent of later Eastern discussions. Parallels between Augustine and Maximus have been suggested, for example. Augustine may even have been a source of inspiration for Maximus.[24] Recently, Brian F. Daley in his own monograph revisiting Patristic Christology, wrote “To those who have been looking for a bridge between the Eastern and Western churches, I would suggest that it exists here, in the Christology of the. . . Greek and Latin fathers, rather than in an attempted rapprochement among their respective Trinitarian doctrine.”[25] Though Zachhuber does not explicitly mention this conclusion, it is reasonable to infer from his work overall that something similar to Daley’s advice can be followed, at least in mitigating the typical example of Augustinian “perplexity.” For, if we follow Zachhuber’s presentation, Augustine’s perplexity gains broader historical context and should not be read as “Western” or Latin ignorance of Greek subtlety. At one level, Augustine is simply stating facts, for nowhere do the Greek writers truly define “hypostasis.” Far from some misunderstanding unique to the West, or a language deficiency, what Zachhuber’s work describes are Eastern debates trying to navigate the Cappadocian Trinitarian legacy and its implications for Christology whose terms, concepts, and questions are remarkably similar to those with which Augustine eloquently struggles, albeit in the idiom of Latin Africa.[26] Though hardly a statement of identity (and one surely still must account for local differences where they occur), Zachhuber’s work nonetheless gives what appears to be an opportunity to reconsider this misunderstood aspect of Augustine’s thought, adding itself as a resource to the growing number of works describing parallels and intersections between East and West.
Conclusion
Zachhuber has found a way to combine the rigor of recent Patristic scholarship with the excitement that came about from bold claims like that of Zizioulas. Rather than a forced unity of thought, it is precisely in honoring the granularity of differing Christological parties emerging out of the richness of Cappadocian thought that Zachhuber’s thesis of the emergence of the individual person as a valuable philosophical notion enters into the light of day. Valuable as well is the manner in which Zachhuber’s work dovetails with the recent “turn to religion” in many sectors of academia.[27] For many, one of the most compelling factors of Zizioulas’ work was the fact that it provided a theological genealogy for realities like persons and relations that today are usually associated with philosophy, rarely, if ever, with theology. Since at least Pierre Hadot (1922–2010), a number of recent works have begun quite rightly to question the hard binary that many have placed between “theology” and “philosophy”—at the very least in Patristic settings.[28] It remains to be seen whether this view has made Christians more or less competitive toward other ancient philosophies than Tertullian’s “what hath Athens to do with Jerusalem?” stance; however, what can be seen is that an increasing amount of academic work has bolstered the opinion that the activities and contributions of Christians in these controversies cannot be neatly categorized as “religious” if by that what is meant are activities separated from broader human considerations and activities. Rather than a selection of “religious” propositions to be believed and to which one’s faith assents, the debates on the Trinity and Christology surrounding the early creeds were intended to be part of larger considerations impacting an entire way of life and view of reality.[29] Zachhuber’s immensely detailed and granular work in a seemingly obscure and arcane section of debate as such has major genealogical ramifications for today:
“[The conclusions of RoCT] are more than a historical footnote. Those who hoped to find a turn to the individual in the Cappadocians themselves, expected this to result in a philosophical vision of individuals harmonically united to form a larger whole. The turn to the individual that actually took place in the context of the Christological controversy, by contrast, shows the disruptive consequences inevitably accompanying such a paradigm shift. The relationship between the individual and its class become as questionable as the constitution of being as a whole, the ontological role of existence, and many others.
It would obviously be anachronistic to credit the miaphysite opponents of Chalcedon with a project of ‘demythologization’ or think of John of Damascus as the originator of modern historical consciousness. And yet it is arguable that the insistent and increasingly subtle doctrinal enquiries into the nature of the Incarnation and the metaphysical constitution of the person of Jesus Christ that followed the impasse of the Council of Chalcedon changed the intellectual matrix of Western thought in such a way that would ultimately make these modern questions feasible and intelligible”
(315,17)
If we are to take Charles Taylor’s aphorism that “On the way from Plato to Descartes, stands Augustine,”[30] Zachhuber would have us say also (or perhaps instead) that “on the way from Plato to Descartes stand the Christological debates of the fifth to seventh centuries.” As Zizioulas argued, so now also does Zachhuber, who opines, “The study of Patristic philosophy has long suffered from attempts to refer to older philosophical ideas as determinative forces in its formation” (319). The transformation that occurred thus also points backward, aiding our historiography. Just as the Christian transformation of ideas still impacts ideas and practices today, so too, we must not confuse Christian practice as the simple continuity of natural philosophies on offer. This leads to what may be Zachhuber’s broader goal in this excellent work, as well as his corpus at large: to seek out and continue to investigate the nature of Christian theology and its relationship to our vision of the world and that which populates the world. In so doing, he has provided us—among many things—an excellent example of the fact that detailed historical work that emphasizes granularity need not be a wet blanket on those seeking grand narratives and theories of everything. Appropriately, in Christ, who fills all things, these things do, in fact, come together.
Derrick Peterson is a Ph.D candidate in history, and author of Flat Earths and Fake Footnotes: The Strange Tale of How The Conflict of Science and Christianity Was Written Into History (Cascade, 2021).
[1] Lewis Ayres, Nicaea and Its Legacy: An Approach to Fourth-Century Trinitarian Theology (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004).
[2] Werner Jaeger, Christianity and Greek Paideia (Cambridge, MA: The Belknap Press of Harvard University, 1961).
[3] John Zizioulas, Being as Communion: Studies in Personhood and the Church (New York: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1985).
[4] This is not to suggest Zizioulas was representative of all neo-Patristic scholars, far from it. Cf. Aristotle Papanikolaou, Divine Energies or Divine Personhood: Vladimir Lossky and John Zizioulas on Conceiving the Transcendent and Immanent God (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame, 2006) which outlines major differences and similarities between Zizioulas and Lossky.
[5] The best introduction to this aspect of Zizioulas is a recently released monography by Jesmond Micallef, Trinitarian Ontology: The Concept of the Person for John D. Zizioulas (Brussels: Domuni, 2020). Helpful as well is the discussion in Miroslav Volf, After Our Likeness: The Church as the Image of the Trinity (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans Publishing, 1997), 73-126.
[6] Zizioulas, Being as Communion, 101; Cf. the expansion of his thesis in Communion & Otherness: Further Studies in Personhood and the Church (New York: T&T Clark, 2006).
[7] Zizioulas, Being as Communion 87-88: “Now, however, [with the Cappadocians] the term hypostasis was disassociated from that of ousia and became identified with that of prosopon. But this latter term is relational, and was so when adopted in trinitarian theology. This meant that from now on a relational term entered into ontology, and, conversely, that an ontological category such as hypostasis entered the relation categories of existence. To be and to be in relation [become identical].”
[8] An excellent and extremely helpful look into discussions surrounding Zizioulas, personhood, and the Trinity and its broader place in twentieth-century theology is Alan J. Torrance, Persons in Communion: Trinitarian Description and Human Participation (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1996), 262-307.
[9] Perhaps the most famous example summarizing many of the broader shifts in Patristic thought generally, and their journey of coming into the awareness of systematic theologians is the aforementioned work of Ayres, Nicaea and Its Legacy. Though limited to Gregory of Nyssa as its prime example, perhaps the best read introducing major shifts in Patristic historiography in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries is Morwenna Ludlow, Gregory of Nyssa: Ancient and Postmodern (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007).Though dated, a good summary of broader shifts in regards to the Arian controversy in scholarship since 1987 can still be found in Rowan Williams, Arius: Heresy and Tradition (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2001), 247-268.
[10] Lucian Turcescu, Gregory of Nyssa and the Concept of Divine Persons (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005).
[11] E.g. the (in)famous final chapter of Ayres, Nicaea and its Legacy; cf. Michel Rene Barnes, “Ebion at the Barricades: Moral Narrative and Post-Christian Catholic Theology,” Modern Theology 26:4 (2010): 511-548.
[12] Richard Fermer, “The Limits of Trinitarian Theology as Methodological Paradigm,” Neue Zeitschrift für Systematische Theologie 41 (1999): 158-186.
[13] Joseph T. Lienhard, SJ, “Ousia and Hypostasis: The Cappadocian Settlement and the Theology of the One Hypostasis,” in Stephen T. Davis et al. The Trinity: An Interdisciplinary Symposium on the Trinity (Oxford: 1999), 99-122; cf. as well Johannes Zachhuber, “Basil and the Three-Hypostasis Tradition: Reconsidering the Origins of Cappadocian Theology,” Zeitschrift für Antikes Christentum vol.5 (2001): 65-85.
[14] See Bruce D. Marshall, “Ex Occident Lux? Aquinas and Eastern Orthodox Theology,” Modern Theology vol.20 no.1 (2004): 23-50.
[15] For more on this point, see Derrick Peterson, “A Sacred Monster: On the Secret Fears of Some Recent Trinitarianism,” in Joseph Minich, ed., The Lord is One: Reclaiming Divine Simplicity (South Carolina: Davenant Press, 2019), 174-213
[16] For a helpful and detailed retelling, see: Ivana Noble, “The Neo Patristic Synthesis,” in Ivana Noble et. al. Wrestling with the Mind of the Fathers (New York: St. Vladimir Seminary Press, 2015), 25-78; Paul L. Gavrilyuk, Georges Florovsky and the Russian Religious Renaissance (Oxford: OUP, 2015), 42-59, 132-158, 172-189, 232-258.
[17] A helpful summary can be found in Marcus Plested, Orthodox Readings of Aquinas (Oxford: OUP, 2012), 193-219.
[18] Cf. George Demacopoulos and Aristotle Papanikolaou, eds., Orthodox Constructions of the West (New York: Fordham University Press, 2013).
[19] Apart from the increasingly anti-Western work of Christos Yannaris that, while poignant, remains largely without English translation until recently, the most intellectually powerful examples of grounding an essential divide as a byproduct of branching theological history is no doubt David Bradshaw, Aristotle East and West: Metaphysics and the Division of Christendom (Cambridge: CUP, 2004); Andrew Radde-Gallwitz, Basil of Caesarea, Gregory of Nyssa, and the Transformation of Divine Simplicity (Oxford: OUP, 2009), is another sophisticated example of how the divide is still usable. Nonetheless, recently Richard Cross, “Divine Simplicity and the Doctrine of the Trinity: Gregory of Nyssa and Augustine,” in David Bradshaw, ed., Philosophical Theology and the Christian Tradition: Russian and Western Perspectives – Christian Philosophical Studies vol.3 (2012):53-65, critiqued Radde-Gallwitz in a way that relativized his distinction between eastern (Cappadocian) and Western ways of conceptualizing divine simplicity and, surprisingly, Radde-Gallwitz later, in an article entitled “Gregory of Nyssa and Divine Simplicity,” Modern Theology35 no.3 (2019): 452-466, indicated he agreed with Cross’ argument. Regardless of the final position, the debate remains an incredibly contested one.
[20] For example, see Mark McInroy, “How Deification Became Eastern: German Idealism, Liberal Protestantism, and the Modern Misconstruction of Doctrine,” Modern Theology vol.37 no.4 (2021): 934-958.
[21] Jason Radcliff, “T.F. Torrance in Light of Stephen Holmes’ Critique of Trinitarian Thought,” Evangelical Quarterly 86 no.1 (2014): 32; cf. Nikolaus Asprolous, “T.F. Torrance and John ZIzioulas On the Divine Monarchia: the Cappadocian Background and the neo-Cappadocian Solution,” Participatio 4 (2014): 162-189; Ralph Del Colle, “’Persons’ and ‘Being’ in John Zizioulas’ Trinitarian Theology: Conversation With Thomas Torrance and Thomas Aquinas,” Scottish Journal of Theology 54:1 (2001): 70-86.
[22] Papanikolaou, Being With God, 10-11.
[23] Richard Cross, “Quid Tres? On What Precisely Augustine Professes Not to Understand in de Trinitate 5 and 7,” Harvard Theological Review 100 no.2 (2007): 215-232.
[24] Brian E. Daley, SJ, “Making a Human Will Divine: Augustine and Maximus on Christ and Human Salvation,” in Aristotle Papanikoloau and George E. Democopoulos, eds., Orthodox Readings of Augustine (New York: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2008), 101-126.
[25] Brian E. Daley, SJ, God Visible: Patristic Christology Reconsidered (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2018), 311.
[26] It remains an open question who among the Greeks Augustine read. An older study by Irénée Chevalier, Saint Augustin et la pensée grecque. Les relations trinitaires (Collectanea Friburgensia 24: Librairie de l’Université, 1940), 98, argued that Augustine has read relevant discussions in Basil of Caesarea, Gregory of Nazianzus, Epiphanius of Salamis, and Didymus the Blind. Richard Cross (“Quid Tres,” 229) argues that given the parallels it seems clear as well that Augustine was familiar with relevant portions of Gregory of Nyssa.
[27] Though a broad movement, my reference to it is meant to indicate recent works that emphasize reevaluating the historical and genealogical contributions of religion to various aspects of life, and/or the continuing power of theological discourse as a conversation partner with other disciplines (often by also revealing the hidden and over theological and religious premises of these disciplines as points of contact). Perhaps the most infamous work here would be John Milbank, Theology and Social Theory: Beyond Secular Reason 2nd ed. (Massachusetts: Wiley-Blackwell, 2006).
[28] For example, Pierre Hadot, What is Ancient Philosophy? trans. Michael Chase (Cambridge, MA: The Belknap Press of Harvard University, 2004); Hadot, Philosophy as a Way of Life (Massachusetts: Wiley-Blackwell, 1995). Important as well are the debates over “Christian philosophy” taking place in the 1930’s in France, which is especially relevant in the overall context of the rising opinion of an East and West split arising in Paris at the same time. Cf. Gregory B. Sadler, ed., Reason Fulfilled by Revelation: The 1930’s Christian Philosophy Debates in France (Washington D.C.: Catholic University of America Press, 2011).
[29] Cf. George E. Karamanolis, The Philosophy of Early Christianity (New York: Routledge, 2014); Darius Karlowicz, Socrates and Other Saints: Early Christian Understandings of Reason and Philosophy trans. Artur Rosman (Eugene: Cascade Books, 2017); Dru Johnson, Biblical Philosophy: A Hebraic Approach to the Old and New Testaments (Cambridge: CUP, 2021).
[30] Charles Taylor, Sources of the Self: The Making of Modern Identity (Harvard: Harvard University Press, 1992), 126.