There are few figures in the history of Western Spirituality who are more enigmatic than the fifth or sixth-century writer known as the Pseudo-Dionysius. The real identity of the person who chose to write under the pseudonym of Dionysius the Areopagite is unknown. Even the exact dates of his writings have never been determined. Moreover the texts themselves, though relatively short, are at points seemingly impenetrable and have mystified readers over the centuries. Yet the influence of this shadowy figure on broad range of mystical writers from the early middle ages on is readily discernible. His formulation of a method of negative theology that stresses the impotence of humans' attempt to penetrate the "cloud of unknowing" is famous as is his meditation on the divine names.
Despite his influence, relatively few attempts have been made to translate the entire corpus of his written into English. Here in one volume are collected all of the Pseudo-Dionysius' works. Each has been translated from the Migne edition, with reference to the forthcoming Göttingen critical edition of A.M. Ritter, G. Heil, and B. Suchla.
To present these works to the English-speaking public, an outstanding team of six research scholars has been assembled. The lucid translation of Colm Luibheid has been augmented by Paul Rorem's notes and textual collaboration. The reader is presented a rich and varied examination of the main themes of Dionysian spirituality by René Roques, an incisive discussion of the original questions of the authenticity and alleged heresies in the Dionysian corpus by Jaroslav Pelikan, a comprehensive tracing Dionysius' influence on medieval authors by Jean Leclercq, and a survey by Karlfried Froehlich of the reception given the corpus by Humanists and sixteenth-century Reformers.
Anyone interested in Christian or western mysticism should read this book without delay - Pseudo-Dionysius is surely the most significant figure in the entire tradition since the fall of Rome. Borrowing heavily from Plotinus and Proclus, he articulated a vision of the cosmos as a series of emanations from the Godhead, logically equivalent to Plotinus' "the One," but here identified with the holy Trinity.
No mystical Christian since Pseudo-Dionysius wrote 1500 years ago has been unaffected by his vision. He is largely remembered for his apophatic or "negative" theology, which held that no concept or idea could accurately represent God, who is in all ways transcendent. There has been a tendency to misread this type of theology as an argument that God is wholly other, apart from man, unknowable and infinitely remote, but nothing could be further from the truth. The argument is that human concepts are bound to the mechanisms of human perception and ideation, and neither far nor near, neither same nor distant, are proper characterizations of God's essence.
The beauty of this move when conjoined with Christian doctrine is that it accords very much with the paradoxical language of Christology and Trinitarian theology, which are themselves strongly influenced by Neoplatonism, and which engage in a similar conceptual struggle to articulate whether the human and divine natures of Christ, or the personae of the Trinity are "the same" or "different." It is an attractive hypothesis to generalize this ontological problem beyond the person of Christ and the Trinity, and to use it as a way to contemplate the relationship of any particular thing to God.
Pseudo-Dionysius is apparently not the first Christian to speculate along these lines, as we know from the Gospel of Thomas found at Nag Hammadi. But he is the most important to the West. Since his works were translated into Latin by Duns Scotus Eriugena, a wonderful thinker in his own right, he has captivated and intrigued Christians who have felt the divinity of God in all things, not just in his only begotten son.
Everyone has that book-they-read-in-college that pops into their mind around 6am as they struggle with chapped and bloody fingertips to scrape together the most pathetic excuse for a social-work paper ever typed (that's pretty bad, by the way).
It was while reading this book that I first learned the SAT word "ineffable," which is one I really love and have gotten considerable mileage out of in the years since. As in: I am ineffably friggin tired. And ineffably friggin stupid....
This book was cool. If I live to a ripe old age, someday I'll lock myself in a tower with all the Paulist Press books I read for this course, and I won't come down until I have a pretty clear understanding of what it is that they're getting at, which right now in my semi-transcendent state I remember as being.... God is like a donut. Not like the donut part, though; God's somewhere in the hole. He's not actually in the hole, though, but the place where you get to and start to understand about God is somewhere near the border between the edge and the middle of the hole; not the edge of the donut, but the edge of the inside section of the hole.... no, not really. I'm just making all that up. I have no idea what this book was about, and I can't believe I actually used to sit around thinking about this stuff. People were drawing pictures of circles on the blackboard and everything, and now who knows what that was all about? Not me All I really know about that whole experience now is that it was really expensive.
Ah, this too shall pass. I'm sure eight years ago a bleary-eyed me was watching the sunrise and contemplating stabbing herself in the head with a fork as she tried to pound out a semi-feasible term paper on Pseudo-Dionysius.... of course, I was a lot younger then. And it was before Bookface was invented, which probably helped.
A work of obvious and fervent passion; containing several sharp and intriguing ideas as one goes along...unfortunately it is simply not a robust work of even remotely rationalistic philosophy. Much circular logic; dog-chasing-his-own-tail-logic, I call this. Exhortative, preachy, repetitive; pounding and re-pounding the same point into the ground, sentence upon sentence. Many times the author states what he labels 'a truth' but he supports it with no more basis than his own self-referencing admission that 'he has just reminded us of something which is obviously true'.
Eh, well--no matter. He was writing for a different age, of course. The beauty of the language (in spite of, or perhaps because of) its repetition is in itself penetrating, in that it is so sonorous. Dionysius dwells at length on minute, detailed attributes of archangels, thrones, authorities, principalities, seraphim, nephalim, spheres, and various functionings of the heavenly host. He pays particular attention to the wings of angelic beings; it's fairly fascinating. There are some quite stunning anatomies like this offered; very reminiscent of Tolkien. And in the same way as Tolkien, this writing can sweep you along with its ecstatic, rhapsodic belief. You have to admire an era in which men felt as deeply about this about anything. It makes up for the lack of rationalism I pointed out earlier.
What is also admirable about this volume is the quality of the translation and the academic oversight. There are five separate prefaces to this work; all the trimmings possible. Multiple indices, editor's notes, dedications, credits, list of illustrations, glossary, chapter notes, bibliography...really, this a very handsome volume (even in paperback) to have on one's shelf. For 'specialized interests' only though, that's clear.
I have said before that there are certain books I wish I had read years ago, books that seem to be absolute must-reads for Christian pastors and teachers. In early October 2019, On the Divine Names by Pseudo-Dionysius skyrocketed to the top of that list. It is absolutely brilliant.
There are so many discussions I have had with students and friends over the years that have touched on the questions and ideas addressed here. How do we speak about God? How can finite concepts and words speak of the infinite? Of course, these are ideas discussed throughout the history of Christianity (under terms such as equivocal, univocal, analogical). I think evangelical conservative Christianity focuses on other things: how and who is saved? How do we interpret the book of Revelation? What about Genesis 1? How do we get political power? Can we listen to secular music? Are we Calvinists or Arminians? At least, these were the questions that surrounded the faith of my youth. They are not all totally irrelevant questions, but throughout my adult life working with college students I've noticed something:
*Students who grew up Christians, and even those who did not, are interested in a deeper faith and more profound questions.
*Many of the best answers to these questions are found in the first millennium of Christianity.
All that to say, On the Divine Names is the best book I've read that discusses how we can talk about God. What does it mean to call God "good" or "loving" or anything else. Its a short read, I read a few pages a day each morning (speaking of which, I cannot recommend highly enough the inclusion of spiritual masters in any sort of regular devotional reading and prayer time).
The other works included here are a bit less interesting. On the Celestial Hierarchy is all about angels. On the Ecclesiastical Hierarchy is about the ordering of the church. Taken together, it is clear Pseudo-Dionysius had a worldview that began with God at the top (though, of course, not a literal "top" like up above...) with orders of angels and persons surrounding that. That said, both these works were less compelling to me (I even skimmed through some parts).
The ten letters that close these complete works are worth a read though. Overall, I cannot do anything but highly recommend On the Divine Names, the Mystical Theology (about ten pages and similar to On the Divine Names) and the letters. They are a fantastic reading for anyone interested in theology or Christian spirituality.
Speaking of semiosis, the characteristic ambit of the symbolic is strictly theological. Primitive man finds himself enveloped by an atmosphere of the numinous, at once wonderful and terrifying, and the natural office of signs is not so much humdrum communication with fellow men as it is to descry the inscrutable will of the gods, if that were possible. Already the later euhemerizing pagans intimated a more transcendent referent of the mythological symbol, but with the advent of monotheism and its scriptures the domain of the symbolic properly so called came into clear view. The church fathers know very well that God always eludes our ploys to ensnare him in rational concepts and that therefore a rigorous mystical theology is called for, if we are to predicate anything whatsoever of him, however obscurely. Indeed, without the analogy of being and its mode of proportional predication, theological discourse would be empty. The patristic and medieval scholastic authorities would dismiss as child’s play the improper use of symbols to speak about cismundane realities, such as blinkered twentieth-century analytical philosophers of language preoccupy themselves with (read: Umberto Eco).
The greatest exponent of mystical theology the tradition has known so far is Pseudo-Dionysius, whose original contributions would prove determinative for the whole course of speculation in the Latin West during the Middle Ages. Most probably a monk active in Syria towards the close of the fifth century, according to the pseudepigraphic conventions of ancient religious literature he could pass himself off as Paul’s sole convert after his apologetic speech at Athens, by the name of Dionysius the Areopagite (mentioned in Acts 17:34). Seldom in intellectual history, indeed, has a thinker of first rank concealed himself so successfully under a pseudonym, for, with later medieval accretions the legend of Saint Denys (as he came to be called) conferred an all-but apostolic authority to the theological standpoint represented in the writings here under review, during the period of their greatest influence. Renaissance humanists were the first to suspect the forgery and began to assign his dates to the third to sixth centuries, but by that time his canonical status in the mystical tradition was secure and could well ride out the buffeting of his fortunes that accompanied the revelation of his real identity.
This reviewer remembers conceiving an immediate kinship with Pseudo-Dionysius upon first encountering his compact works decades ago, without needing to be told by anyone of his centrality to the later theistic tradition of mystical reflection during the middle ages. Perhaps this can be put down to the Neoplatonic impetus to the Areopagite’s intuitions, which, it could be pointed out, looms large in the parallel tradition of Sufism, as well. The earliest citations of Pseudo-Dionysius’ works can be found in the monophysite patriarch Severus of Antioch around the second decade of the sixth century, thus affording a convenient terminus ad quem. While Pseudo-Dionysius avails himself of an occasional monophysite-sounding locution (such as his ‘single theandric activity’ in Christ), he is not at all heretical in tendency and merely to be faulted for employing imprecise terminology that the ecumenical church would later find prudent to anathematize, as the redoubtedly orthodox Maximus Confessor would establish beyond question in his commentary towards the middle of the seventh century.
It will be convenient, in reviewing these works, to start with the treatise ‘On the divine names’. Here, Pseudo-Dionysius seeks to placate difficulties with the doctrine of the Trinity, then takes up an extended exposition of the positive terms we may apply to God: good, light, beauty, love, life, peace. The basically Neoplatonic perspective rears everywhere into view; for instance, when discussing the connection between God and being, we learn that God is not just beyond beings, but also beyond being itself, or ‘hyperousios’ (hyper- is a favorite construction of Pseudo-Dionysius’). The text is refreshing; there is no substitute to reading through it to get a flavor of the theology. What one loves in church fathers like the Cappadocians Gregory Nazianzen and Gregory of Nyssa in the East or Augustine in the West is their sheer childlike wonder and the innocent delight they take in pondering the things of God, in an age when the Christian revelation must have seemed still new and intellectually exciting. We moderns have become jaded; even theologians want to sound serious and scholarly and feel they cannot pour out effusions of praise in their professional writings. So much the worse for us! ‘On the divine names’ comes recommended as a window into a living religious culture.
The second treatise in the collected works goes under the name ‘On the celestial hierarchy’. Here, Pseudo-Dionysius sets forth his sacramental vision of the entire created world, focusing first on what for him has the highest metaphysical status, the angelic intelligences, from the seraphim and cherubim down to ordinary archangels and angels (expansion of Colossians 1:16, incorporating other scriptural loci). The very term ‘hierarchy’ was coined by Pseudo-Dionysius to express in concise form his position (it means literally, ‘saving order’, from heiros=sacred + arkhein=to lead, rule; cf. archon). Today, the term has become corrupted by secular uses and the modern reader is apt to misconstrue how Pseudo-Dionysius originally thought about it. For, the modern connotations are reductive and linear, and place the emphasis on subordination; while the original sense is more one of everyone participating in leading everyone to greater purification, illumination and saving knowledge of divine things by performing the function assigned to him by his place in the overall order, a model of good citizenship rather than one of domination exercised over others, as modern ideas of hierarchy, based largely on how worldly men are prone to interpret it, tend to suggest. Pseudo-Dionysius: ‘In my opinion a hierarchy is a sacred order, a state of understanding and activity approximating as closely as possible to the divine. And it is uplifted to the imitation of God in proportion to the enlightenments divinely given to it. The beauty of God—so simple, so good, so much the source of perfection—is completely uncontaminated by dissimilarity. It reaches out to grant every being, according to merit, a share of light and then through a divine sacrament, in harmony and in peace, it bestows on each of those being perfected its own form. The goal of a hierarchy, then, is to enable beings to be as like as possible to God and to be at one with him. A hierarchy has God as its leader of all understanding and action. It is forever looking directly at the comeliness of God and bears in itself the mark of God, causing its members to be images of God in all respects, clear and spotless mirrors reflecting the glow of primordial light and, indeed, of God himself. It ensures that when its members have received this full and divine splendor they can then pass on this light generously and in accordance with God’s will to beings further down the scale’.
No doubt, we could restore healthier attitudes towards hierarchy in the Church if we returned to something closer to the meaning intended by Pseudo-Dionysius when he introduced the term. By the way, one call tell from the quotation above why Pseudo-Dionysius is more a Christian than pagan Neoplatonist. ‘On the ecclesiastical hierarchy’ follows the same threefold triadic organization of the celestial hierarchy. Pseudo-Dionysius’ treatment of his theme is of interest because he sketches for us what must have been the prevailing liturgy in the Syriac church of his day. Anyone familiar with the Mass in the Latin rite will find things little changed well over a millenium later (although we no longer kick out the catechumens before the eucharistic consecration).
While the works we have covered so far would suffice to establish Pseudo-Dionysius’ reputation as a leading contributor to the mystical tradition, his oeuvre is crowned by the extraordinary and enigmatic little treatise ‘On mystical theology’, condensed into just seven pages in English translation. Here, the author outlines a daring dialectical program to skirt around the great problem besetting discourse about God, that he surpasses the capacity of our minds, or indeed those of any creature, to know, and nevertheless to predicate something about him. The procedure unfolds in two stages. First, one hazards affirmative statements about God (the cataphatic mode), but, recognizing their obvious inadequacies, negates them. In the second stage (the apophatic mode), one denies predicates of God. For Pseudo-Dionysius’ manner of viewing things, dissimilar symbols are more powerful than similar symbols, in that there is less danger of being misled by the surface semantics of the terms, which after all originates in our experience of the world and therefore is bound to worldly, which is to say non-transcendent, realities. Indeed, dogmatic theology, in general, prefers to proceed by way of negation, or ruling out heretical positions which, in the norm, are exaggeratedly one-sided. A dogma has the function of setting a boundary, not so much of declaring a positive determination of the matter (which, in any case, would be impossible with God). The highest form of knowing, for us, is an ‘unknowing’ (as Nicholas of Cusa would later pick up on in his celebrated treatise on learned ignorance, De docta ignorantia). Pseudo-Dionysius: ‘The more we take flight upward, the more our words are confined to the ideas we are capable of forming; so that now as we plunge into that darkness which is beyond intellect, we shall find ourselves not simply running short of words but actually speechless and unknowing’. Alternation between the cataphatic and apophatic modes best enables us to circle around the elusive goal to which we aspire, the knowledge of God. In what would become the classical formulation, the canons of the fourth Lateran Council from 1215 propose that ‘One cannot note any similarity between Creator and creature, however great, without being compelled to observe an ever greater dissimilarity between them’ (Inter creatorem et creaturam non potest tanta similitudo notari, quin inter eos non maior sit dissimilitudo notanda).
In summary: Pseudo-Dionysius deserves rapt attention as a founding figure of mystical theology. He is entirely preoccupied with God himself; one will not encounter rules by which to regulate the pursuit of the Christian life and to advance in mystical prayer, such as we find in Evagrius of Pontus or John Cassian. Rather, the aim is theological through-and-through, and herein lies Pseudo-Dionysius’ forte. Not only his doctrine of God and symbolic theology, but also his sacramental picture of the world and his ideas about hierarchy, in particular, should be engaging to many today who look back to the church fathers for inspiration and renewal.
Closing remark: this reviewer rates the present edition four stars, even though, on the strength of Pseudo-Dionysius’ writings themselves it would deserve five or more, if this were possible. The front matter, comprising no less than a foreword, a preface and three introductions, turns out to be rather insipid, despite the distinguished academic affiliations of the contributors. Even Jean Leclercq’s falls flat. Karl Froehlich’s notice on the reception of the Pseudo-Dionysian corpus by the Protestant reformers is scarcely necessary, albeit for understandable ecumenical reasons it had to be included. Try as he might, he cannot alter the fact that there just is no enduring indigenous Protestant tradition of mystical theology (if one sets aside the heretical Jacob Boehme and theosophist Swedenbourg), in all probability not merely due to Luther’s notoriously dim view of the Corpus Areopagaticum, but also—what is deeper—because Protestant antimonasticism and antisacramentalism do tend to deflect religious interest away from the ineffable wonder of it all into a grim and dour moralism. To be sure, the great sociologist Max Weber has due cause to deplore the consequent reductive rationalization of all domains of earthly existence (q.v., this recensionist’s review of Weber’s Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism elsewhere on this site), but don’t we have only ourselves to blame for our disenchantment? Hence, the eager and enterprising reader could best skip over the supererogatory front matter in order to engage directly with the pregnant text. Regrettably, moreover, the modern English translation in this version by the Paulist press strikes this recensionist as too plain and dull, for all the author’s Platonic eros (though how could he tell, not knowing Greek?).
The Twittersphere is split between two rival castes: the “verified” accounts and the anonymous ones. The verified accounts, nicknamed “bluechecks” for the heraldry appended to their names to befit their elevated station, are often people who, maybe ten years ago, most would have taken seriously: politicians, celebrities, scientists, journalists, and all manner of highly-credentialed social climbers who we were led to assume, before we had access to their digitized streams of consciousness, were exceedingly profound and well-adjusted. The “Anons”, on the other hand, are the ones who make the platform such a delightful bout of mischief. A gaggle of rogues and eccentrics, the best among them are brilliant, subversive, and often wickedly funny; and they never fail to expose the vanity and intellectual arrogance of those with the temerity to present their puffed-up personas to the world as if they were oh-so-important people with oh-so-meaningful things to say. The Anons remind us that true creatives are happy to efface themselves before their works; when the works are important in their own right, the pretentions of their originators will only stand in their way.
The man we call Pseudo-Dionysius was perhaps the most influential “anon account” of the ancient and medieval worlds. Appropriating the name of Dionysius the Areopagite, a figure from the New Testament who was converted to Christianity after listening to the Apostle Paul preach in Athens, his works seem to have first appeared in the early sixth century, making him a possible contemporary of Boethius, with whom he shared certain commonalities, including a concern for how the divine reality retains its unity and simplicity while manifesting itself in accordance with the dissonant capacities and proclivities of the people, nations, and religious traditions who receive it—possibly emblematic of an enlarged and culturally alienated post-imperial world that demanded the development of a coherent theological catholicity—as well as an obvious familiarity with the lexicon of Neoplatonism.
Dionysius was an indispensable influence for the mystical theology of both east and west because he proved to be the essential genius of apophaticism. More completely than any other figure, he articulated—in surprisingly accessible and artful language, mind you—the total insufficiency of even the profoundest human words and concepts to accommodate the foolishness of God. Understanding God as the primordial reality, the “non-being” encompassing being and non-being, transcending all things and yet infusing and sustaining them at all times as expressions of His eternal self-relation, he knew that the ascent of the soul to God (and also the “descent” of God to creation in what may be metaphorized as a divine ecstasy) could only begin not when there was no more intellectual scaffolding to build, but when there was none left to remove.
Yet even if God is un-nameable in His eternal nature, scripture provides us with a plethora of artful titles. These are the subject of Dionysius’s best-known work, On The Divine Names, in which he demonstrates that even though words can never express the divine silence, they may still constitute so many rungs graspable by our superficial minds, from which we may ascend, through the very negation or circumscription of their positive denotations, to a fuller contemplation of the superabundance of God. The “names” of our pseudonymous apophatic master, like the prayers of the desert fathers, lead us deeper into hesychastic silence.
In terms of the developing Christian-Platonic tradition, this book is Plato at his near-finest. It marks a watershed in Christian reflection and will dominate Christian metaphysics for the next thousand years. In terms of authorship, it is certainly not Paul’s traveling companion, given that he quotes Ignatius of Antioch, who wrote after the turn of the century. Further, his discussion of monasticism reflects a reality that wouldn’t have been established until much later.
Argument of book: whatever transcends being must transcend knowledge (593A).
The whole is reflected in the part: “Within its total unity it contains part and whole, and it transcends these too and is antecedent to them” (648C). Every part of the universe reflects God’s oneness. He is replicated and differentiated in the energies (is this the same as saying the Logos is replicated in the logoi?).
The Good shows forth the processions of God (680B). If we say the processions “go out” from God, we are speaking analogically, for the Trinity isn’t in a place, per se. The Good isn’t a being but excess of being. The Good returns (reditus) all things to itself (700A). All things desire it.
The source of every duality is a monad (721D). Every number preexists in the monad (821A). Every number is differentiated as it goes forth from the Monad. Every being derives from the Pre-existent. Being precedes the entities which participate in it. God is not a facet of being, but being is a facet of him (824A). The exemplars of everything pre-exist as a transcendent unity within God.
Mystical Theology
A negation is not simply the opposite of an affirmation, but that which is prior to affirmation (1000B).
Hierarchy = sacred order, activity or understanding (164D). Because the divine realities are invisible, they must be communicated and mediated through symbols. There is also a correlation between negating a concept and that concept's representing an invisible reality.
Conclusion:
As is usually the case with Platonic and Neo-Platonic literature, it is often soaring in terms of beauty. Ps. Dionysius’s discussion of the priest-as-hierarch needs to be seen as hyperbole. Few people are at that level of Being.
The scholarly, standard English translation of the Dionysian corpus, this volume from the celebrated 'Classics of Western Spirituality' series is outstanding in every way. The team assembled to write the preface and several introductions are world-respected scholars, all experts in Pseudo-Dionysius, Christian mysticism, and the Patristic period. The translation is so fluid, readable, and enjoyable while maintaining accuracy and rigor. The notes and indices are all helpful. This completely supplants the previous English-editions of Pseudo-Dionysius's works from earlier in the century (this one originally came out in 1987).
Who was Pseudo-Dionysius? Someone who was immersed in Neoplatonic philosophy, who knew the Scriptures well, and who had a creative, rather monastic and 'mystical' way of doing theology. Scholars since the late-Renaissance have realized that this author cannot be the Dionysius mentioned in Acts 17:34 as such a figure is never mentioned by any early fathers and these writings were first mentioned only in the early 6th century. In addition, the style doesn't fit a first century Athenian, there are various anachronisms, and the work solidly rests upon the thought of Proclus (412-485) and other Neoplatonists, such as Iamblichus (245-325). Scholars have long argued on the author's actual identity; names floated include the monophysite Severus of Antioch (465-538), Peter the Iberian (of Georgia) (417-491), and others. I personally think there is a good case to argue for Peter the Iberian's authorship. We know that he wrote religious works, but none (under his name) remain extant. It's a fairly common practice for monks to write anonymously or under pseudonyms, and the fact that Peter is said to have been an important author, suggests we might have some of his writings under our noses in a disguised form. We also know that Peter, a Georgian prince, was widely respected during his lifetime as a brilliant thinker and holy man who founded monasteries. The 'Ecclesiastical Hierarchy' included in this collection has clear guidelines for monks and their role in the Church's structure, which suggests the author had monastic reforms in mind. He was well-tutored in philosophy and theology and two great ascetics mentored him, namely the monk Zeno the Prophet and the philosopher John the Laz. Could one or the other be the "Hierotheus" that Pseudo-Dionysius mentions? Scholars have detected a monophysite tendency in both Pseudo-Dionysius (see Letter 4) and Peter (according to his biographer). The Ecclesiastical Hierarchy is reminiscent of Cyril of Jerusalem's catechetical works, which Peter would have been familiar with, especially since he lived in Jerusalem for a time. Finally, the fact that he was Iberian (modern-day Georgia, near the Black Sea) could explain the paucity of evidence about the author's true identity as, compared to other writers from these ancient areas, we know relatively less about Georgian Christianity; the earliest Old Georgian inscriptions unearthed actually mention Peter of Iberia and his father.
At any rate, whatever the real identity of the Pseudo-Dionysius, the author brilliantly uses a neoplatonic metaphysic to illustrate the rich facets of Christian theology. There is some debate about how much of a synthesis or synergy this is, with some arguing that Neoplatonism comes out 'on top' and results in a Christianized Neoplatonism or a new, Platonic-Christian religion of the author's own invention. After reading this more closely, however, I see the neoplatonic elements in service to the theology not competing with it. In other words, for the author, Neoplatonism is not a rival system with Christian philosophy, but is the natural, God-ordained philosophical vessel to do service for Theology. It's important to point out that for Pseudo-Dionysius, Theology is the Word of God in the Scriptures, and theologians are (first and foremost) the authors of the Scriptures themselves. The author sees a resonance between the neoplatonic "exitus" and "reditus" (procession and return) and the Christian story of a God who creates ex nihilo, permits man to sin, redeems this creation, and then provides for the divinization of His creatures. Likewise, there's a movement of procession and return in the Church's liturgical acts and in the mystical encounter itself.
For Pseudo-Dionysius, the Scriptures contain much that is dark and off-putting because God works through "dissimilar similarity." Basically this notion is that physical symbols, which are so far from the divine reality, nevertheless are God's chosen vessels to communicate with his earthly creatures. These symbols, parables, and riddles in Scripture are suited to our imaginations, lifting us analogically to contemplate the divine realities which are beyond all images - not only our earthly or crude ones - but also our lofty, abstract ones. The other reason for such dissimilar similarity is that the Spirit would not cast its pearls before swine, and so the puzzling passages of scripture safeguard the divine mysteries from being mishandled by those who are initiated and thus unilluminated.
But "hierarchy" is key to Pseudo-Dionysius, along with his exitus-reditus pattern and his symbolical anagogy. The basic schema of the cosmos is the pattern of the angels which is the rule for the Church. The inferior receives from the superior and passes along to its inferior. The superior is ever condescending to the subordinate, while the subordinate diffuses below what it receives. As for heaven above, so for earth below, and thus for the Church. The nine levels of the angels, assembled into three levels of three each, is the model for how the Church functions. No level must overstep its calling; every one has its role to play.
Finally, in the Divine Names and the Mystical Theology, the author's over-riding concern is to demonstrate the ultimate unknowability of God. This "apophatic" approach is like the sculptor clearing away what he doesn't need from the marble to reveal the beautiful image beneath. Apophasis clears away false conceptions of God, allowing the soul and heart to then receive, through the divinely appointed hierarchies, the Word, Wisdom, and Love of God that purifies, illuminates, and perfects. God is not a being amongst beings. He is utterly and inconceivably above being, higher than being, and higher than the source of being. He is utterly simple and perfect, inapproachable and undecipherable by man's power of reason or imagination. He is the Source of all hierarchies, and so we and created things participating in Him can point to Him but cannot explain Him. We are led to rudimentary knowledge of His attributes and effects (in a Romans 1:20 sense), but we cannot know Him. Rather, He knows us and then creates a bond between us out of His supra-abundant love.
Once I thought that Pseudo-Dionysius did not have much of a Christology, but now I know better. It could be argued that his Christology is key to his entire picture, just as it is with the Cappadocians, for example, or Athanasius, or any other orthodox Father. The Divine became man so that we might become divine. Without Christ there is no creation, no redemption, no deification. He's not an "optional extra" that this neoplatonic philosopher had to include because he felt compelled to. No, Pseudo-Dionysius loves Christ and wants to be sanctified by His Spirit. Pseudo-Dionysius does not necessarily offer a fully satisfying account of the Trinity, but that's not to say that He regarded the Trinity as unimportant, but above all else, mysterious and impenetrable. The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit rather choose to reveal themselves to man in the creational and liturgical actions as mediated through the sacred hierarchies. In Letter 9, Pseudo-Dionysius brilliantly argues that there are two modes of doing theology: the one is more open and evident while the other is more hidden and secret. The former is philosophic and involves modes of demonstration; it argues, compares, and persuades. The latter acts by means of the divine mysteries and puts the soul into the presence of God. It is carried up to God by His act of condescension and furthers its journey towards unity by means of the riddles and dark sayings of Scripture. Thomas Aquinas would famously cite this passage, several times, and now scholars have found over 1,700 allusions or quotations to Pseudo-Dionysius in the great medieval theologian's work.
Overall, this is such an amazing collection of texts in such a terrific edition. Theologians and philosophers and students interested in Neoplatonism should dive deeply into the Pseudo-Dionysius's world, and drink deep draughts from His well. It's cold and crisp and still, into the twenty-first century, so rejuvenating.
The content of the works of Pseudo-Dionysius is supposedly as shrouded in mystery as their author's true identity. The reality to anyone familiar with a little Neo-Platonism is, however, likely to be more mundane. It essentially constitutes a body of symbolic interpretation: explaining how the structure, ritual and doctrine of the Christian church perfectly reflect the God-ordained order present in the higher realm of Spirit. Reality is a hierarchy through which God's virtues, carefully itinerated in 'The Divine Names', cascade downward and through which the individual soul by means of careful obedience and participation can ascend to it's source. Christian symbolism is therefore necessitated by this rigid structure, where knowledge is defined as nearness to God. To those further away, the truth can only be slowly revealed as befits their rank and capacity. This also serves the purpose of protecting the Truth from the prying eyes of the uninitiated.
This is the core message. It is presented and continually repeated without further explanation, embellished with all kinds of fanciful imagery of angels and demons, and it doesnt take long to wear thin. It builds on the ellaboration of the inherated Neo-Platonic tradition and melds it tighter to the church. One can see why Dionysius was such an important influence on medieval theology with it's love of allegory.
Of course, the major appeal of his writings is their emphasis on the search for Truth along the 'via Negativa', through which the gradual removal of all affirmative properties stills desire, aids in ascent and brings one closer to union with the divine. So far, nothing new. The real mystic turn takes place in the short 'Mystical Theology' where God's transcendence is memorably described as not only being beyond all affirmation but also beyond all denial, lying in the 'brilliant darkness of the hidden silence', 'pouring overwhelming light amd the deepest shadow'. This earns well-deserved points for poetry but it is deliberately designed to block real inquiry. On the rare occasion where he delves a little deeper into philosophy, as in the discussion on the nature of evil in 'The Divine Names', Dionysius justs gets hopelessly muddled. I can see that if you have a head for mysticism you'll enjoy him, but for me he strays too far in that direction.
These works are essential to Negative Theology and Symbolic Interpretation, not only of Theological matters, but of life and thought as a (ever incomplete) whole (which is no whole). If for nothing else, these works aid in the understanding that nothing in the Bible should be read literally, as it is a wholly symbolic text.
I’m currently in my neoplatonist phase. What a book. You have it all, participatory metaphysics, introduction to symbolism, an extremely transcendent but immanent God, apophatic theology, thinking in hierarchies of being...
Another Classic of Western Spirituality purchased during studies, but haven't read entire text. Looking forward to diving in when my studies are completed.
Any consideration or exploration of contemplative spirituality, mystical spirituality, or spirituality in general in Christianity will eventually point back to Pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite. His writings have proven incredibly influential.
In The Works of Dionysius the Areopagite, you can consider his writings for yourself.
The historical Dionysius the Areopagite was the man mentioned in Acts 17:34 as having been converted in Athens by Paul’s preaching around 51. While there are many who wish to believe the historical Dionysius the Areopagite was responsible for the works preserved under his name, they all betray a far more developed Christology and comfort with Neoplatonic philosophy than would be expected from such a first century convert.
Instead, by common confession, the works preserved in this compilation - On Divine Names, Mystical Theology, Liturgy, On the Heavenly Hierarchy, Ecclesiastical Hierarchy, and the Letters - come from likely a Syrian monk in the fifth (or perhaps early sixth) century well versed in the theology and Christology of the time and the Neoplatonic philosophy of Plotinus and Proclus. Thus we speak of him as Pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite.
In Mystical Theology, the author would come to emphasize what is known as apophatic theology, approaching God more by negation of what is not God rather than affirmation of what God is. In this way the author becomes the first to really lay out a mystical approach to theology. Moderns find his books on hierarchies taxing, but they provided comfort and assurance to previous generations in understanding where everyone fit and how one might draw near to God. He was no doubt a major synthesizer of the Christian and Hellenistic traditions, giving a Neoplatonic voice and framework to Christian theology.
So much of Pseudo-Dionysius’ thought would become incorporated into Christian theology, East and West, that it can be hard to appreciate him fully. What he has said you can find explicated in greater detail elsewhere. Even though he claimed to be honoring and popularizing the instruction of “Hierotheus” his master, it is he and his works which have become most popular and continually quoted and referenced ever since the middle of the sixth century. He is worth considering on account of that heritage of popularity alone.
i read this for the mystical theology. alan watts said i should also read the divine names. so i read the whole thing. even though the last two works weren't particularly reasons for my interest in christianity, i endured. i stumbled out of my reverie during an enchanting moment towards the end of the ecclesiastical hierarchy; baptism
i couldn't believe out of sections; the celestial hierarchy or the former, that it would be possible to take anything away from this obligation, my ode to stubborn reading. my littlest one is getting baptised next week. same church oldest one done did the deed. i gave two shits about whether to have her baptised. i'm not some christian. it was a nice enough affair. dionysius talks for great length on baptism. the dedication involved to your ward's path toward enlightenment. never thought i'd start taking baptism seriously. christian or no, the responsibility you're undertaking
the mystical theology got lost in the volume. didn't take my time. alan watts has a commentary i'll soon get my hands on
kudos to the reviews i read prior to this one. they humble me. difficult to assign rating
Creo es es demasiado llamarlo "el principe de los místicos" como hace Bunaventura. Esta obra es una invitación a leer el Corpus Dionysiacum. Ratifiqué al leerla lo que refirió Hans küng en la "Iglesia católica" sobre Pseudo Dionisio, que apartir de él hay una Iglesia basada en la jerarquia "El desafortunado término «jerarquía» solo se adoptó quinientos años después de Cristo por parte de un teólogo desconocido que se ocultaba tras la máscara de Dionisio, discípulo de Pablo." Dionisio la fundamenta con la idea de ángel, más la idea que la propia jerarquía angélica. Finalmente busqué esa mina de la que dicen que Heidegger extrajo mucho, la cual parece estar en el intento de pseudo Dionisio por hacer una mística y en ese sentido trascender lo racional y conceptual, a través de su teología negativa muestra una vía distinta de la racional. Tal vía es la más simplona, Pseudo Dionisio aplica la mera definición de misterio y dice Dios es silencio, las palabras no lo alcanza, y Heidegger repite lo mismo pero en lugar de decir Dios dice el ser. Todo se encuentra en el capítulo de La teología mística, en el apartado de "En qué consiste la divina tiniebla".
A tough read, to be sure, but that's what happens when you try to describe the indescribable. Certainly an important historical read in theology and a key work in negative theology. One would really have to work to make it a devotional of sorts, but there are definitely passages worth deep consideration in our everyday life. Above all, Pseudo-Dionysius inspires a great sense of humility before that which is Life greater than life, Wisdom that gives wisdom itself, Being that's essence is existence.
Read through with Dr. Rorem in a seminary at PTS (during his last year before retirement). Really thought-provoking, relevant, interesting work (both Dr. Rorem's erudition and the Dionysian corpus itself). Lovely to discuss with the other students, something best wrestled with in community. Excellent preparation for a deep dive both into angelology and Christian mysticism. What a challenging, spiritually rich work :)
If you are looking to cover all your bases with Pseudo-Dionysius' thought, this is your book. While it only has certain selections of his writings, it really gets down to the bones of his apophatic thought, and his great understanding of the oikonomia/theologia. The best part about this book is that you are given enough of each work that if your interest is sparked, you know which complete work you need to work toward finding.
5/5 for St. Dionysius' writings. 2/5 for the heavily biased towards western readings of St. Dionysius in the introductions and footnotes. It would have been nice for an introduction from the Orthodox perspective.
Recommend further reading of Fr. Dumitru Staniloae's commentary on the Dionysian corpus and it's authenticity.
Idéal pour connaître une des références les plus citée par S. Thomas d'Aquin dans sa somme théologique. Entre théologie apophatique, exégèse symbolique et signification des sacrements. Il inspirera S. Jean de la Croix.
Excelente exposición de unos de los primeros cristianos y fundamentos de la Espiritualidad franciscana. Es verdaderamente importante para entender el Franciscanismo desde sus raíces filosóficas recomendadas por Juan Duns Scoto y San Buenaventura. Y pionero de la tradición intelectual franciscana.
For graduate metaphysics. Great thinker, indispensable to Catholic theological, mystical, and philosophical insight. Almost any Catholic can benefit spiritually from reading this.