In Crowned with Glory and Honor, Michael Wilkinson argues that the person-nature distinction, established in the doctrine of the Trinity and extended into christological anthropology in the Chalcedonian definition, should also be applied to theological anthropology as a first principle in human ontology. Part 1 provides a biblical and epistemological defence of christological anthropology. Part 2 offers a tidy account of the person-nature distinction in Christian theology prior to Chalcedon, the logic of Chalcedon’s use of this distinction and the significance of this distinction in the ensuing Christological debates. Part 3 delivers Wilkinson’s extension of the person-nature distinction into theological anthropology, applying his analysis of ‘the man par excellence’, Jesus Christ, to the ontology of ‘man par ordinaire’ (p. 239).
Wilkinson takes Chalcedon’s use of the person-nature distinction to be paradigmatic because it is the clearest demonstration of a real (rather than modal) distinction between person (hypostasis) and nature (ousia/physis). He argues that in the doctrine of the Trinity, there is a modal distinction between the divine persons and the divine nature. In Christology, there is a real distinction between the divine person of the Son and the human nature assumed in the incarnation. Therefore, Wilkinson argues, there must be a real distinction between persons and natures in human beings. This distinction helps to explain what is happening as humans act: ‘each merely human being acts when the human person (who) engages the human nature (what) through hypostatic actualization (how)’ (p. 343). It is important that the Chalcedonian definition specifies that the eternal Son assumed a human nature comprised of a rational soul and body. This means that the soul is part of human nature. Souls are not identical with persons. Rather, persons (hypostases) have souls and bodies and act through them.
Wilkinson differentiates this view from both physicalism and dualism. From a physicalist perspective, the mental capacities of an individual arise from the body’s functioning. From a dualist perspective, humans are body-soul composites and mental capacities must be understood as belonging to individuals because of their spiritual and physical constitution. Wilkinson argues that neither physicalism nor dualism has established the ontological reality of a personal hypostasis or subsistence ‘at a different level from nature’ (pp. 349-50), and therefore, contemporary physicalist and dualist models of human ontology remain insufficient.
Wilkinson’s book provides a thick account of Chalcedonian anthropology and a creative suggestion for advancing theological anthropology, especially in relation to the doctrines of soteriology and eschatology. But that creativity brings with it a new set of questions. For example, regarding the real distinction between persons and natures, Wilkinson states: ‘in anthropology, there must be a real distinction between the human person and the human nature because the two undergo ontological and chronological separation when the subjective “I” of the human person perseveres in hypostatic union with the soul beyond the death of the body until resurrection’ (p. 292). Wilkinson’s use of hypostatic union language here flags the location of his departure from the anthropology favoured throughout most of the Christian tradition. Most theologians have argued that a human person is a living instance of human nature, or (to use the modal versus real distinction) a mode of human nature. Wilkinson is aware of this norm, explaining that the Christian tradition has normally affirmed that ‘a human person does not subsist in a nature but exists as a particular human nature (body and soul)’ (p. 306). On this traditional account, the hypostatic union is a unique event in which a divine person, the eternal Son, assumes human nature alongside his divine nature. The two natures are united in one hypostasis. The human nature of Jesus Christ, though complete, does not produce a second person since an anhypostatic human nature is enhypostatised by the eternal Son. On this traditional account, there is no hypostatic union in ordinary humans, because under normal conditions a human being is personal by nature. But for Wilkinson, again, there is a real distinction between the person as a ‘first-level ontological reality’ and her nature as a ‘second-level ontological reality’ (p. 309). To defend his thesis more fully, Wilkinson needs to demonstrate that there is a real distinction in ordinary humans between a person and her nature such that it requires a hypostatic union (or something like it).
Additionally, Wilkinson’s proposal appears to run into problems with Gregory of Nazianzus’s maxim, ‘That which is not assumed is not healed’. For Wilkinson, existing as a human is existing as a personal hypostasis subsisting in a human nature. Jesus qualifies as fully human because he is a divine hypostasis subsisting in a human nature. At points in the book, however, it seems like there must be relevant differences between divine and human hypostases. But if there are, can Jesus’s existence as a divine hypostasis subsisting in a human nature ‘count’ as fully human? One might think that, in Wilkinson’s view, a human being should be understood as a human hypostasis subsisting in a human nature. In that case, a divine hypostasis subsisting in a human nature would not be fully human. Wilkinson uses the common category of ‘personal hypostasis’ to minimise this issue. But if Gregory’s maxim requires a human subsistence to save human persons, then there is a real soteriological problem at stake. Are divine, angelic, human and other hypostases interchangeable things?
Overall, Wilkinson’s book is a worthwhile exploration of Christology that presses for consistent anthropological categories determined by christological anthropology as articulated in the Chalcedonian definition. I believe that the questions posed above should be on readers’ minds as they wrestle with Wilkinson’s thesis. Yet, throughout my engagement with the book, I was reminded of Hebrews 4.12: ‘For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart’. If the word of God divides soul and spirit, or soul and hypostasis, there might be warrant for theology to do so also.
