It is rarely that a reader get to read a book exactly suiting his taste. I recently had that good fortune. But titles and packagings are often deceptive. So when I first saw Charles Freeman's Closing of the Western Mind at a bookshop in Washington's Dupont Circle, I did not immediately go for it. It claimed to be the story of the the triumph of dogmatic Christianity over the Greek tradition of rational thought in the 4th and 5th centuries and appeared interesting. But I was not sure. Meanwhile as I wrote in my previous post, I went to New York on work and was reading Yann Martel's novel, Life of Pi in my spare time there. I was staying in Manhattan and saw Closing of the Western Mind a second time in the Barnes and Nobles there. I went through its pages and again it seemed to be interesting. But the decision was not quick. Finally, on my third or fourth visit to the Book shop on 28 September, I bought the book spending 17 dollars.
For such an exciting book, the first few chapters are a little boring. But as you go along, you realize that the boredom is the result of the perfectionist Freeman's attempt to be thorough with his narration. After the first quarter or so, the story engrosses you completely and you cannot put it back. But, if you are looking for a Greek tradition vs Christianity narrative, you wont find it in the book. Freeman goes on and on, chapter after chapter, telling the story of the Greek culture and philosophy. But that is just to give you a feel of the historical backdrop of Christianity's origin and development. In spite of its title, the focus of the book is not on the conflict between Christianity and the so-called pagan philosophy and science. What we get from Freeman is an excellent story on the origin, growth and consolidation of the mainstream doctrinal Christianity around the Nicene Creed (named after the Nicaea in present-day Turkey, the venue of the Ecumenical Council at which the Creed in its original form was first presented.)
The most momentous period for this development was the fourth and fifth centuries. At the center of the controversies of the time, handled by a confusing succession of ecumenical councils and synods, was the issue of relationship of the person of Jesus with supreme God. Was Jesus a son of man, a son of God occupying a position little below the Supreme God or an equal member of a triune God. While the synoptic Gospels seem to support the first position and the Gospel of John the second position, doctrinal Christianity gradually asserted the last position making Jesus an equal and integral member of a divine Trinity. All other points of view ended up with the label of heresy on them. To escape the label, it was not enough just to assert the full divinity of Christ. One has also to take the right doctrinal position on the relationship among the persons of the Trinity and about who proceeded from who etc. At one point, the difference between the antagonistic positions was in the the Greek words they used to describe the relationship of Jesus with God the Father. The unbridgeable distance between them was of just a Greek iota. While the side which eventually won held that Jesus was homoousios (of one substance)with God the father their opponents took the position that Jesus was homoiousios (of similar substance) with him. This later promped historian Edward Gibbon to tease the Fathers for fighting over a 'diphthong'.
Freeman's story has an interesting dramatis personae. We may start with the dubious convert, Emperor Constantine whose motives for first tolerating and then embracing Christianity remains a mystery to this day. Then there is Origen, the Alexandrian theologian of brilliance and zeal who in his childhood would have walked to martyrdom, had his mother not hid his clothes; the indefatigable but intolerant Athanasius, bishop of Alexandria who as an young Deacon took a prominent role in the Council of Nicaea; the saintly-scholar trio of Cappadoccian fathers (Basil of Ceasaria, Gregory of Nyssa and Gregory Nazianzus); the irritable ascetic scholar, Jerome; the great statesman ecclesiast, Ambrose of Milan; and the genius, Augustine of Hippo, ever persecuted by the burden of his presumed guilt.
But all the characters that shine in the story are those of the winning side. You don't come to know much about a Marcion, an Arius, a Nestorius or a Pelagius from this book. But we need not blame Freeman for this. All history is the work of the winning side. Out of the distortions left by past ages, it is impossible to retrieve a fair and fuller picture of people on the loosing side.
Perhaps to do justice to his title, Freeman has chosen to begin and end his narrative with another great figure in the history of Christianity, but belonging to another time and not exactly fitting in his story. According to Freeman, it was Thomas Aquinas in the thirteenth century who paved the way for opening of the western mind by effecting a synthesis of Christian doctrine and Aristotelian philosophy. Freeman start his narrative by describing Filippino Lippi's 15th century fresco showing Aquinas Confounding the Heretics, which represented a certain narrow interpretation of the role of Aquinas. The cover of the book also carries the picture. In the last chapter, Freeman tells us an interesting story about the canonization of Aquinas. The proceedings, its seems, failed to get the required miracular proof essential for its successful conclusion. One miracle alluded to Aquinas had to do with the fish, herrings: The illness which ended in the Saint's death started when he was in Italy on way to Rome. Aquinas had then a desire to eat herring which he was accustomed to in France. It was asserted that herrings had suddenly appeared in fishermen's catches though it was neither the season nor place for them. However, even this miracle could not be proved as the people who came to give evidence failed to identify herrings. According to the story, the issue was resolved by the controversial late-medieval Pope, John XXII by ruling that every article of Aquinas' magnum opus Summa Theologica was a miracle. So you have as many miracles as are articles in that huge work. That indeed was a case of triumph of reason over (blind) faith (in miracles)!
Well, I liked the story. I have read the herring story before also, may be in GK Chesterton's short biography of Aquinas.
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