Apophaticism


. . . the apophatic theology of this period [of Dionysius and Maximus the Confessor] by no means implies a theological agnosticism, if carefully studied in its essential aims. The principal object of this theology is to remove the question of truth and knowledge from the domain of Greek theories of ontology in order to situate it within that of love and communion. That apophatic theology founds itself on love is something so evident as to be the necessary key to its understanding and assessment. The perspectives offered by an approach to being through love, as arrived at by the mystical and ascetic theologians of the period, led by another route to the same conclusion that the eucharistic and trinitarian approaches of the previous period reached: it is only through an identification with communion that truth can be reconciled with ontology.

John D. Zizioulas, Being as Communion. Studies in Personhood and the Church. London, DLT, 1985 (2004) 92.

I intended to write about this at the end of the previous post but ran out of time then.

Two days ago Joris van Ael, the Flemish iconographer whose work I mentioned in a previous post, gave a talk to our community in which he highlighted the common roots of eastern and western religious imagery. (Well, he was actually here to give an intensive workshop to two of us, but that is another story). Something that he said struck me as worth noting, as it intersects with themes that keep recurring for me. Having emphasised the wide variety of iconographic expression, and the creativity of differing traditions, he addressed the question of what the common factor was in all these traditions. What is it that makes something an icon, as opposed to, say, other forms of western religious imagery? This is a question that I have often been asked, and I have always found my answers inadequate. Yes, one can speak of a particular style, of working within a tradition, even of working within a canon, but that remains at a surface level. And, yes, one can also speak of the icon’s theological and liturgical role, but that can be understood as implying a sort of didactic role which, while not untrue, only touches the surface.

Joris’ answer was that the icon has both an element of resemblance and similarity, but also of dissimilarity and elusiveness. There is the contrast between light and darkness, between proclamation and silence. The icon leads us to a point that goes beyond our thought processes and leads us to the Mystery that is beyond all expression. In the icon the Unnameable appears.

Now this is of course rather paradoxical, for iconography pays great attention to the details being correct and, indeed, to persons and events being properly named. Yet such detail is there precisely to lead us to something greater. And the same thing applies to liturgy and theology. It has sometimes struck me as rather ironic, but perhaps also instructive, that those liturgical traditions that are most insistent on careful adherence to the rites are precisely the traditions that are most able to lead us beyond themselves. And, likewise, apophatic theology is not to be found in the traditions (if one may call them that) that have become rather vague on what they believe, but precisely in those traditions that place great emphasis on correct belief, but which are aware of the limitations of our human expression.

Some food for further reflection!

I came across this paper on Theology, Liturgy and Silence by the Ecumenical Patriarch quite by chance. It was presented on 6 March at the Pontifical Oriental Institute in Rome. I found it particularly worthwhile not only because he roots theology in the doxological experience of the Church, but also because he emphasises the apophatic underpinning of theology and liturgy, an “ascetic silence of apophaticism” that should lead to humility.

Of course, classical philosophy and most religions adopt a fundamentally negative approach, inasmuch as they are aware of the awesome transcendence of God. Nevertheless, in Patristic thought, apophaticism is not merely an intellectual method of approaching the mystery of God. It is not simply a more effective way of knowing God through scholastic research. The Fathers continually confess the inadequacy of the human intellect and human language to express the fullness of truth. In the words of St. Basil the Great:

We know our God through His energies, whereas we do not presume to approach His essence. The energies of God come down to us, while His essence always remains inaccessible.

This distinction between divine essence and divine energies - so eloquently articulated by St. Gregory Palamas in the fourteenth century - communicates the conviction that divine truth is not discovered through the intellect alone; instead, it is disclosed in the human heart, through the Eucharistic community, to the entire world. Ultimately, the awareness of God’s transcendence leads to personal encounter with the One who is Unknown. It is the knowledge beyond all knowledge, experienced as divine “ignorance”. Thus, theology transcends all formulations and definitions, being identified rather with a persona! and loving relationship with God in the communion of prayer. As Evagrius of Pontus affirms: “If you are a theologian, you pray truly; and if you pray truly, then you are a theologian.”

In the final analysis, the Church Fathers are not philosophers of abstract concepts, but heralds of a mystical theology. For them, the silence of apophatic theology signifies knowledge as communion at its deepest, its most intimate, and its most intense. In the seventh century, St. John Climacus experienced the same truth through asceticism:

Stillness of body is the understanding of habits and emotions. And silence of the soul is the knowledge of one’s thoughts and an inviolable mind … A wise hesychast has no need of words, being enlightened by deeds rather than by words. Such stillness is unceasing worship and waiting upon God.

His Holiness ends up by exhorting his listeners:

to serve the theological word by breathing the air of theology and kneeling humbly before the living Creator. Implore God for the renewal of your hearts and minds; invoke His grace for the salvation of every human person, even - and especially - the least of our brothers and sisters (Mt 25:45); and pray fervently for the transfiguration of the whole world, to the last speck of dust.