Luke Steven has produced an important monograph on imitation, knowledge and christology. His main argument is that true knowledge stems from likeness, which he calls ‘likeness epistemology’. Although he focuses on Maximus the Confessor, his contribution is not restricted to Maximus or even to patristics in general. It is a refreshing reminder and explication of the integral link between holiness and knowledge, so characteristic of the classic works of Christian theology.
Steven begins by drawing attention to the discrepancy between Maximus’ earlier exegetical and spiritual works, which are largely grounded in spiritual experience, and his later dogmatic, christological works, which are dry, technical and polemical. He takes it upon himself to prove that both presuppose a ‘likeness epistemology’, which enables us to read them together.
In chapter 1, Steven argues that the notion that ‘like is known by like’, which existed already in pre-Christian thought, influenced Maximus’ Christian precursors and, through them, eventually Maximus himself. I wonder whether Steven should have spent some more time showing the specifically theological justification behind the Christian adoption of this epistemology (as opposed to mere ‘hellenisation’). Chapter 2 examines Maximus’ early works. Steven here focuses on love and virtue as indispensable preconditions for knowing God and highlights the experiential, and not merely cognitive, dimension of knowledge. This is supplemented by Maximus’ doctrine of ‘deification’ analysed in chapter 3. Steven points out that Maximus’ claim that Christ ‘incarnates’ himself proportionately in those who imitate him is an important link with his later christological writings. At this point he could have elaborated on Maximus’ association of christology with ascetic practice, which is prominent in some of his early works. In the final three chapters Steven shows in detail how Maximus applies the principle ‘like is known by like’ to christology. One discerns christological orthodoxy by imitating Christ and by becoming Christ-like.
This is in many respects an exemplary study. It suggests ‘likeness epistemology’ as the way to unify Maximus’ early works with his later christological ones. It shows how both depend on the transformation of the mind and the heart of the theologian as an indispensable epistemic condition. This is most helpful for theological epistemology in general, perhaps especially in our times, when theology is often handicapped by its dissociation from spirituality and ascetic practice.
So far, so good. I think, however, that Steven has slightly overstated his case. He does not seem to have taken fully into account the fact that writings on, say, humility and writings on the two natures and wills of Christ do not belong to the same theological genre. The former are understandably experiential. But doctrinal works require some additional skills. They presuppose carefully drawn distinctions and definitions by means of a highly technical vocabulary, which almost inevitably make them appear a little pedantic. Their claims have to be defended against heretical or misconceived formulations. Exact knowledge of previous doctrinal controversies and conceptuality is crucial. Arguments are of paramount importance. A high level of theological, and sometimes also philosophical, sophistication is indispensable. So, the equilibrium between cognitive and experiential knowledge will be different here. This is, after all, why outstanding ascetic authors do not always subscribe to doctrinal orthodoxy or are unable to formulate it correctly. Evagrius, from the Origenist camp, and Isaac of Nineveh, from the Nestorian one, are two characteristic examples. Their spiritual theology was highly appreciated and widely read in the Chalcedonian church, whereas their dogmatic theology was emphatically rejected.
Moreover, Steven claims that Maximus’ introductory addresses in his christological letters aim primarily at transforming his readers in a ‘Christ-like’ direction, so that they may share Maximus’ orthodox christological views. This, however, is not entirely convincing. These seem to be largely rhetorical devices of persuasion through abasing the sender and praising the addressee for his character and virtues (this is self-confessedly the case with Maximus’ famous letter to Pyrrhus). Maximus is sufficiently astute and realist to be aware of the limited transformative power of words – and so is Steven. Important as they certainly are, one does not become holy merely, or even primarily, by reading or listening – and this is why ascetic practice and sacramental participation are necessary (incidentally, the latter, although important for Maximus, is not sufficiently stressed by Steven). To overlook this may inadvertently reintroduce a logocentric emphasis, against the excesses of which Steven justifiably warns us by highlighting the important and relevant to our times epistemological axiom that ‘like is known by like’.
These, however, are minor blemishes on an otherwise important and timely piece of scholarship.
