Medieval Ethics & the Role of God

John Haldane’s ambitious chapter “Medieval and Renaissance ethics” traces the tradition of Western ethical philosophy from the patristic roots of early 11^th century scholasticism to the revival of Platonic doctrines, the continuation and systemization of Thomistic moral principles, and the rise of homocentric ethical theory in High Renaissance thought and beyond. Haldane touches upon a number of pivotal issues surrounding man’s morality in respect to God, viz. the role of practical or ‘right reason’ (recta ratio), the faculty of distinguishing good from evil (synderesis), the interplay between virtue (arête) and a lifelong pursuit of happiness/good (eudaimonia, or commonly, “human flourishing”), and the increased emphasis on voluntarism (voluntas, “will”) in the apprehension of moral truths (“Medieval” 134-135, 140).

Perhaps one constant that may be found in this epoch of ethical thought is the underlying premise that traditional Christian moral law is true and that a rational or alternative approach towards ethical theory must reaffirm or concur with religious teaching and revelation. Although Haldane’s overview illustrates how many medievals sought to reach moral truths without divine intervention, the role of God was still necessary or even instrumental for fully understanding and acting on the knowledge of good and evil. For instance, the early Fathers’ pursuit of an “innate resource” that would lead any man towards good was characteristically rationalistic but ultimately relied on God endowing man with either rational thought or the faculty of moral sense (135). While their exercise to find a path towards moral truth was not hinged on direct revelation, it still required a God-given faculty or power in order to reason or intuit moral knowledge (134-135). Augustine also demonstrated this reliance on the divine, mentioning that man is capable of knowing moral law through his conscience but requires God’s illumination on the soul in order to be fully moved or “orientated” toward the good (136). Their examples were part of a broader scholastic and medieval theme in which thinkers looked increasingly toward reason, intellect, and the will in order to reach truths about moral law that coincided with those presented in the Christian tradition.

Haldane’s essay reveals this dominant theme over half of a millennium. One cannot help, then, but to ask about those who may have strayed from the rest of Christendom. Were moral theories developed that were completely free of any divine ingredient? Could man arrive at knowledge of good and evil without any previously-held religious claim or premise? And further, can a human act on that knowledge, pursue good, and live virtuously—all without any sort of transcendent source, omnipotent being, or divine illumination?

Haldane would likely disagree. Medieval conceptions of ethics were strongly tied to the idea of moral knowledge imparted by God through revelation, or ‘divine law.’ Skepticism regarding the basic source of moral values (God) was probably not appreciated by thirteenth-century Parisian bishops. After all, (ethical) philosophy was still the handmaiden of theology, and most thinkers of the time were philosopher-theologians. For this reason, medieval ethical theories relied on some form of direct or indirect illumination/divine light/inheritance (either God gave you the ability to figure out what’s good and bad/how to live virtuously, or he just told you), and were largely part of moral theology.