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CHAPTER II

Bonaventure's Life and Thought

In many instances there is no discernible correlation between an author's thought and the physical setting of his birthplace. This is not so in the case of Bonaventure's birthplace, Bagnoregio.⁴⁸ Not only is it in a setting of striking physical beauty but the very structure of the setting reflects the structure of Bonaventure's thought. Situated in the Etruscan country about sixty miles north of Rome, between Viterbo and Orvieto, Bagnoregio is perched high on the crest of a spur of land jutting into the Tibur valley. About seven miles to the west lies Lago di Bolsena, a deep blue lake that shines like a jewel in the crater of an extinct volcano. On its eastern slope, this volcano stretches in a plateau which after several miles divides into what appear to be fingers of land separated from each other by deep gorges. Extending towards the Tibur, these fingers break off abruptly into the valley below. Bagnoregio is built along the thin edge of one of these fingers. Scanning the horizon, the visitor has a breathtaking sense of the vastness of space - deep gorges plunging down on each side, massive cliffs rising across the gorges, directly ahead the steep drop off into the Tibur valley and in the distance lofty mountains in the direction of Todi. Towards the southeast stretch the mountains of the Sabine country north of Rome, where on a clear day can be seen Mount Soracte, immortalized in an ode of Horace. This setting easily awakens a sense of joy in nature - of awe at its power and at the same time peace in its harmony. Bagnoregio seems to be the midpoint of a vast and ordered cosmos, the center of the earth as it were; for it lies on a pinnacle of land rising from the valley, ringed about by a sweeping circular horizon whose outlines are traced by massive mountains.

This natural setting would be spectacular enough, but added to it is the fact that the very tip of the finger stands alone in the shape of a conical hill, on the crest of which lies the ancient center of Bagnoregio, now abandoned and in ruins - a medieval ghost town. Erosion, landslides, and earthquakes have for centuries eaten away the thin spur of land on which Bagnoregio is situated. In 1695 a disastrous earthquake shook the city, causing massive landslides along the ridge behind the ancient center.⁴⁹ This led to the decline of the center and the shifting of the life of the city to the other section towards the plateau. The result is that Bonaventure's Bagnoregio now stands in solemn isolation, unchanged for centuries, a silent reminder of the medieval world in which Bonaventure lived. Although a number of homes here have been restored and are inhabited, the visitor has the impression at times that he is wandering through a city whose life had stopped as abruptly as that of Pompeii. He walks along deserted streets, peers into gutted buildings, visits the ancient cathedral in which Bonaventure worshipped as a boy, and observes a wall at the side of the gorge - the only remains of the home that tradition assigns to Bonaventure's family.⁵⁰ Standing on the edge of the inhabited section of the city and gazing across the eroded land to the ancient center, the visitor sees Bonaventure's Bagnoregio - the bell tower of the cathedral rising above the silent homes and city gate.⁵¹ From this observation point, the simple medieval atmosphere of the city unites with the grandeur of the natural setting. Bonaventure's Bagnoregio clearly becomes the focal point at the center of the vast circular sweep of the horizon.

Although we know relatively little about Bonaventure's early years in Bagnoregio, we can see how this landscape could shape his vision. It would be indeed surprising if a young boy, as sensitive as Bonaventure, could grow up in that setting without being moved by it? power and symbolism. In the sweeping landscape of Bagnoregio there is a natural resonance with the distinctive elements of Bonaventure's thought. Sketched in the book of nature at Bagnoregio are the outlines of the philosophical-theological vision he elaborated in his later years. Here in Bagnoregio is the basis of his Franciscan sensitivity to nature - not in gentle Umbrian colors, but in sweeping cosmic dimensions. Most of all, the landscape of Bagnoregio contains the symbolism of the center, which will play so important a role in the evolution of Bonaventure's Christology. As we will see shortly, the notion of Christ the center emerged through the years as a major theme in Bonaventure's thought. I will eventually argue that the symbol of the mandala - a circle and center - permeates Bonaventure's thought and is the key to understand its structure.⁵² One could find few settings in which the mandala design is more immediately apparent in the landscape than in that of Bagnoregio.

Boyhood and Education

It was in this setting that Bonaventure was born in the early part of the thirteenth century. The date of his birth is not known with certainty. Although traditionally considered to be 1221, this was challenged by Giuseppe Abate in 1949-1950, who proposed convincing evidence that Bonaventure was born not later than 1217, the date which has been subsequently accepted by a majority of Bonaventure scholars.⁵³ Knowledge of his family is limited to sparce details. His father was John di Fidanza, who seems to have been a doctor of medicine and a man of some means. His mother was Maria di Ritello, sometimes called simply Ritella. Their son was not baptized Bonaventure, but apparently John after his father; his name was changed to Bonaventure only after he entered the Franciscan Order.⁵⁴

Although practically nothing is known of his boyhood, one event is recorded by Bonaventure himself: namely, his miraculous cure through Francis of Assisi. When years later he was commissioned by his Order to write the life of Francis, Bonaventure said in his introduction: "I was snatched from the jaws of death through his invocation and merits, when I was a boy, as I still vividly remember. If I refused to publish his praises now, I fear I would be accused of being ungrateful."⁵⁵ In his shorter life of St. Francis, he states in greater detail: "God's numberless favors granted through Francis in various parts of the world do not cease to abound, as I myself who have written this life have verified through my own personal experience. For as I lay seriously ill while still a child, I was snatched from the jaws of death and restored to perfect health owing to a vow made by my mother to the blessed Father Francis."⁵⁶ A tradition grew up that this cure was performed by Francis personally, as is depicted in the bas-relief on a monument to Bonaventure in Bagnoregio, which shows his mother presenting him as a very young child to Francis, while his father stands imploringly in the background. The tradition further recounts that Francis took the child in his arms, offered him to God, and in a prophetic vision exclaimed, "O, la buona ventura!" (Oh, good luck). After this the boy was no longer called John but Bonaventura.⁵⁷ However, a recent examination of the evidence concludes that the cure occurred after Francis' death and canonization, perhaps between 1228 and 1231, that is, when Bonaventure was between eleven and fourteen years of age.⁵⁸

On Bonaventure's early education we have the testimony of Sixtus IV in 1482 that he received his preliminary schooling with the Franciscans at their friary in Bagnoregio.⁵⁹ It had been thought that he entered the Franciscan order in Italy and did his novitiate perhaps at Orvieto. However more recent scholarship holds that he entered the Order only after going to the University of Paris and completing the course there for the master of arts. According to this reckoning, he would have gone to Paris in 1234 or 1235, becoming a master of arts in 1243 and beginning his theological studies as a novice in the Franciscan Order in Paris the same year. However, according to the regulations of the Order at that time, he was received as a member of the Roman Province.⁶⁰

Having arrived in Paris in 1234 or 1235, Bonaventure began an involvement with the University which would last continuously for over twenty years, during his period as a student and professor, and which would continue intermittently throughout his life. When he was a student in the faculty of arts, Bonaventure continued the contact with the Franciscans he had begun in Bagnoregio. By the time he reached Paris, the Franciscans were solidly established there and on their way to becoming a major force in the University. Having arrived in Paris in 1217, the Franciscans were first housed in a small building belonging to the Benedictine abbey of Saint-Denis.⁶¹ When vocations increased their number, it was necessary to provide education, especially in Scripture in view of their mission of preaching. The friars began walking the great distance from Saint-Denis to the University each day until that became impractical. There is evidence that by 1224 they were established in Paris and had increasing contact with the university world.

In 1230 the friars obtained from the Benedictines of the abbey of Saint-Germain a cluster of houses within the city walls, where they could dwell but without the possibility of expansion. Through the assistance of the king, St. Louis, who was attracted to the new order, the friars acquired from the abbey a large area of land near the original houses. By 1240 the friars were able to begin construction there on what would become their major house of studies in the Order. Called in French the "Grand Couvent des Cordeliers," the house was situated on the left bank, on the edge of the city walls - in the present city of Paris, near the Boulevard Saint-Germain, at the site of the school of medicine, between Rue Monsieur-le-Prince, Rue Racine and Rue de l'Ecole de Medecine. During the Middle Ages the Couvent des Cordeliers flourished as a major center of the University of Paris; it was here that the great Franciscan masters taught: Alexander of Hales, Bonaventure, and Duns Scotus. With its cloister and thirteenth century church, it remained a center of Franciscan learning until its disappearance at the time of the French Revolution.

The status of the young Franciscan group in Paris was enormously bolstered when the most illustrious professor of the University, Alexander of Hales, entered the Order in 1236.⁶² A native of Gloucestershire in England, he was about fifty at the time and at the height of his career, a man of great learning and prestige. By bringing with him his doctoral chair to the Couvent des Cordeliers, he established the school of the Friars Minor as officially part of the University of Paris. With the presence of a magister regens of the University, the friars had the right to open a public school of theology. This was a decisive event for the Franciscans, for it definitively oriented them towards higher academic studies.

Theological Student and Professor

Alexander's entrance into the Franciscan Order occurred shortly after Bonaventure's arrival at the University and during his course at the faculty of arts. After his own entrance into the Order, in 1243, Bonaventure studied theology under Alexander until the latter's death in 1245. This was a most important relation for Bonaventure, for from Alexander he received the substance of the tradition that he was to shape into his own synthesis - especially the currents flowing from the Pseudo-Dionysius and the Victorines. Even in developing his own thought, Bonaventure considered himself a disciple of Alexander, as can be seen by his attitude of respect, his reference to his "master" and "father" and his affirmation that he did not want to deviate from his master's opinion.⁶³ Alexander's appreciation and respect for Bonaventure is summed up in a tradition which is recounted in the following quotation from the bull of canonization of Sixtus IV: "Bonaventure was great in learning, but no less great in humility and holiness. His innocence and dove-like simplicity were such that Alexander of Hales, the renowned doctor whose disciple Saint Bonaventure was, used to say of him that it seemed as though Adam had never sinned in him."⁶⁴

Although Bonaventure was undoubtedly attracted to the Franciscans by the learning of Alexander of Hales and other scholars of the convent at Paris, he was also drawn by the simplicity of Francis. He saw in the development of the Franciscan Order a reflection of the primitive Church. In the following statement, written some twenty years after his entrance into the Order, in response to a critic of the Rule, we can see an expression of the ideal of simplicity and learning that marked his own life as a friar:

Do not be upset that in the beginning the friars were simple and unlettered. This ought rather to strengthen your faith in the Order. For I acknowledge before God that what made me love the life of Blessed Francis so much was the fact that it resembled the beginning and growth of the Church. As the Church began with simple fishermen and afterwards developed to include renowned and skilled doctors, so you will see it to be the case in the Order of Blessed Francis. In this way God shows that it was not founded by the prudence of men but by Christ.⁶⁵

After entering the Order, Bonaventure pursued his theological studies under Alexander of Hales and John of La Rochelle. After their deaths in 1245, he continued under Odo Rigaldus and William of Melitona. In 1248 Bonaventure was licensed as a bachelor of Scripture, baccalarius biblicus, and for the next two years lectured on the Bible.⁶⁶ From 1250 to 1252, as a baccalarius sententiarius, he lectured on the sentences of Peter Lombard, producing his Commentary on the Sentences. In 1252 and 1253 he was engaged in disputations and preaching. In 1253 or 1254 he was awarded by the Chancellor of the University the licentiate and doctorate, which gave him the right to teach not only at Paris but throughout Christendom. Because of the struggles between the secular masters and the mendicants, some think that Bonaventure was not formally accepted into the guild of masters as a magister regens until 1257, but there is evidence indicating that he was recognized as such at the earlier date.⁶⁷ As regent master of the Franciscan school, he lectured on Scripture, determined questions, and preached. During the period from 1254 to 1257, he composed commentaries on the gospels of Luke and John, on Ecclesiastes, and the Book of Wisdom; he also produced three sets of disputed questions: on the knowledge of Christ, on the Trinity, and on evangelical perfection. In the course of the same period he composed his condensed summa, the Breviloquium. During this time, when he was intensely engaged in lecturing and writing, he rose to the intellectual leadership of the Franciscan Order.

Bonaventure's position at the University became embroiled in a dispute between the secular masters and the new mendicant orders.⁶⁸ Both the Dominicans and the Franciscans had acquired two chairs of theology at the University. The secular masters, who were the entrenched authorities at the University, resented the rise of the new mendicant orders and opposed their acquisition of power. A statute was issued limiting the number of chairs in the Dominican and the Franciscan houses to one each. The Franciscans complied, but the Dominicans resisted. Furthermore, when the secular masters decided to suspend classes in protest over police violence against some students, the mendicants refused to comply and continued teaching. This complex situation directly concerned both Thomas and Bonaventure because it jeopardized their status as regent masters. The political situation broke into open controversy when a secular master, William of Saint-Amour, wrote De periculis novissimorum temporum, attacking the very foundations of the new Orders. William claimed that the mendicants were false prophets and that their way of life was contrary to morality and religion. Bonaventure answered in his disputed questions on evangelical perfection and Thomas in his Contra impugnantes Dei cultum et religionem. William's book was condemned by Pope Alexander IV; through successive interventions of the pope the dissensions at the University were brought to a close, and the status of the mendicant orders in the structure of the University was recognized.

Minister General of Franciscan Order

Before these problems had reached a final solution, an event occurred that changed the course of Bonaventure's life. On February 2, 1257 he was elected Minister General of the Friars Minor.⁶⁹ This meant that he had to abandon his academic career at the University and for the next seventeen years devote himself to administering the Order and solving the complex problems it faced. Not the least among these was the very problem that led to his election. For some time the Order was being polarized into two camps: On the one hand were the Spirituals, who maintained that the primitive ideal of Francis should be lived without adaptation or evolution. These took their inspiration from Francis' original companions who still dwelt in the hermitages of the Rieti valley and on Mount La Verna. Emphasizing the simplicity of Francis, the Spirituals adhered to a strict poverty, rejected learning, and feared the organizational structure that came with the expansion of the Order. On the other hand, another camp was formed by those who accepted the need for interpretation and adaptation of the Rule, the cultivation of learning - even in the great universities - and the more elaborate organization of the Order demanded by its expansion.⁷⁰

To complicate the situation, the Spirituals began to interpret their position in the light of the theology of history of Joachim of Fiore, the twelfth century Calabrian abbot who prophesied that an age of the Spirit would begin in 1260 and last to the end of the world.⁷¹ In this age the ecclesiastical structures of the past would be superceded by the reign of the Spirit. Joachim prophesied further that this age would be ushered in by a new Order, which would be contemplative and spiritual. This latter prophecy the Spirituals saw fulfilled in Francis and themselves as faithful followers of the primitive ideal. Joachim's influence reached even the Franciscan General, John of Parma, who had been aligned with the Spirituals. This created an awkward situation, since Joachim's thought was considered heretical, having been condemned by the Fourth Lateran Council and by Alexander IV in 1255 in his condemnation of the Liber introductorius in evangelium aeternum of the Friar Gerard of Borgo San Donnino. This same pope secretly ordered John of Parma to resign his office of General. Because he was highly respected by the Order, he was asked at the chapter in Rome to name his successor. Salimbene gives the following account: "Those who had responsibility for the election, seeing his anguish of soul, said to him reluctantly: 'Father, you have made visitations of the Order and you know how the friars live and what they are. Show us one suitable friar to whom this Office should be entrusted, show us who should succeed you.' John of Parma immediately named Brother Bonaventure of Bagnoregio and said that he knew no one in the Order better than he. Immediately all agreed upon him and he was elected."⁷² After being chosen General, Bonaventure found himself in the awkward position of having to participate in the trial of John of Parma, his predecessor and friend. The picture of the trial that has come down to us is not clear since the only account we have is by Angelo Clareno, whose reporting reflects his allegiance as a Spiritual and Joachite.⁷³

Through his years as Minister General, Bonaventure had to deal with problems arising from the tension between the Spirituals and those who favored adaptation. While attempting to remain faithful to the spirit of Francis, he pursued policies that established the Order along institutional lines.⁷⁴ In interpreting the Rule in general, and specifically in matters of poverty, he allowed for adaptation and evolution that would harmonize with the expansion of the Order. Having been trained at the University of Paris, he himself saw no incompatibility between learning and the simplicity of Francis. As Minister General he fostered the traditions of learning: in his interpretation of the Rule, in his own lecturing and writing, and in his cultivation of centers of study, for example, the Couvent des Cordeliers at Paris. Although he was highly respected by all for his holiness, his policies naturally fell under the criticism of the Spirituals. Yet through his personal sanctity and his gifts of reconciliation, he was able to prevent a rupture within the Order and to develop a workable rapprochement between the primitive ideal and the necessities of organic development.

Two and a half years after his election, in October 1259, he retired to La Verna, the mountain where Francis had received the stigmata, in search of peace and contemplation. While meditating there, he had an extraordinary insight into the symbolic meaning of the vision Francis had at the time he received the stigmata: the vision of the six-winged Seraph in the form of the crucified. This insight he developed in detail in the Itinerarium mentis in Deum.⁷⁵ This experience at La Verna made a profound impression on him and marked a new direction in his writing. From this time on his writings reflect a greater integration of Franciscan elements with the content and form of the scholastic tradition he had received at the University of Paris. After La Verna the mystical dimensions of his thought emerge more clearly and symbols play a greater role in his style. In the next several years he wrote a number of mystical and spiritual treatises: Lignum vitae, De triplici via, Soliloquium, De perfectione vitae ad sorores. Shortly after his La Verna experience, he was commissioned by the chapter of Narbonne to write a new biography of Francis in order to settle the controversy in the Order arising from several different and even conflicting biographies. To gather material he traveled in Italy, visiting the scenes of Francis' life and interviewing his original companions. Out of this research he produced the Legenda major and the Legenda minor, which he presented to the Order. These were accepted as the official biographies; by a decree of the chapter of Paris in 1266, all other lives of Francis were ordered to be destroyed.⁷⁶

Controversy, Cardinalate, Council

Not all of Bonaventure's concerns were over internal matters within the Order. In 1269 the old controversy against the mendicants flared up again with an attack by Master Gerard of Abbeville. Bonaventure responded with a refutation entitled Apologia pauperum. Before this Bonaventure had become involved in another problem which would grow into the major controversy of the last years of his life. While residing at Mantes-sur-Seine, Bonaventure kept in close contact with Paris, frequently preaching at the University, where certain philosophical and theological problems were disturbing the faculty and students. Aristotelian-ism had made a continuous inroad in the teaching of the faculty of arts, where there emerged a certain radical Aristotelianism supported by the interpretations of the Islamic philosopher Averroes.⁷⁷ The adherents of this radical Aristotelianism taught positions in philosophy that seemed clearly incompatible with the Christian faith: such as, the eternity of the world and the denial of personal immortality. Against this growing Latin Averroism, as it has come to be called, Bonaventure began to launch an attack in two Lenten series of lectures delivered at the University of Paris: on the Ten Commandments in 1267 and on the gifts of the Holy Spirit in 1268. Bonaventure's strategy was to attack this radical Aristotelianism in the light of his Neo-Platonic synthesis of Augustine, the Pseudo-Dionysius, and certain Franciscan themes. In contrast, Thomas Aquinas also refuted this radical Aristotelianism, but in the light of his own Aristotelian synthesis. Bonaventure's attack on the new trends reached its peak in the Collationes in Hexaemeron, a series of twenty-three lectures delivered at the University during April and May 1273. Although this series has a sharply focused polemic thrust, it is, in fact, Bonaventure's final summa, which is remarkable for the intricacy of its structure, the power of its imagery and rhetoric, and its mature synthesis of his scholasticism and Franciscanism. It is Bonaventure's crowning work and, from many points of view, his finest intellectual achievement.

This series of lectures was never completed. On May 28 he received at Paris the news that Pope Gregory X had named him cardinal bishop of Albano. Although Bonaventure had previously refused an appointment by Pope Clement IV to the archbishopric of York, this time the pressures were sufficiently strong for him to accept. He set out immediately to meet the Pope in Italy and received the cardinal's hat in the convent of Mugello, near Florence. With the Pope he proceeded to Lyons in order to prepare for the Second Council of Lyons which was to convene in May of the following year. At Lyons Bonaventure was consecrated bishop on November 11, 1273. He continued as Minister General of the Order until after the opening of the Council of Lyons, when on Pentecost, May 19, a chapter was held at Lyons at which Bonaventure resigned and Jerome of Auscoli, who later became Pope Nicholas IV, was elected as his successor.

Bonaventure took an active part in the preparation of the Council and in its execution.⁷⁸ Pope Gregory had created Bonaventure cardinal in order to have him as his personal advisor in matters pertaining to the Council. According to the Pope's design, the Council had three major items on its agenda: the liberation of the Holy Land through a crusade, the union of the Greeks and the latins, and the reform of the Church. In the matter of Church reform, Bonaventure played an important role, working on the constitution Religionum diversitas. In the reunion of the Greeks and Latins, Bonaventure had chosen, at Gregory's bidding, a legation composed of Franciscans to travel to Constantinople and negotiate the sending of a Greek representation to the Council. At the Council itself, Bonaventure preached at an extraordinary session on May 28, when it was officially announced that the Greeks were sending delegates. After their arrival on June 24, he preached again at the solemn ecumenical ceremony on June 29 which signaled the tenuous reunion of the East and the West. Neither of these sermons is now extant. Although it has been said that Bonaventure presided over the Council, this is highly unlikely since the Pope himself was present. It is probable, however, that Bonaventure presided over several meetings between the Greek delegates and the Latins.

In the midst of these labors, Bonaventure died on Sunday, July 15, just two days before the termination of the Council. He was buried on the same day at the Franciscan church in Lyons, in the presence of the Pope, the cardinals, and prelates of the Council. The scene is recorded by a chronicler as follows: "Greeks and Latins, clergy and laity, followed his bier with bitter tears, grieving over the lamentable loss of so great a person."⁷⁹ The next day when opening the fifth session of the Council, the Pope spoke of the great loss sustained by the Church in the death of Bonaventure, and out of gratitude for all his labors, ordered all priests and prelates throughout the world to offer Mass for the repose of his soul. Two centuries later Bonaventure was canonized, on April 14, 1482, by Pope Sixtus IV; and a century after that, on March 14, 1588, he was declared a Doctor of the Universal Church by Pope Sixtus V, with the title "Doctor Seraphicus."⁸⁰ If we scan Bonaventure's life, we see that a single theme permeates the whole, both his personal life and his public career. Bonaventure was a man of peace - but a peace acquired not through inactivity, but through the creative integration of opposites. He was a man in whom polarities were reconciled and through whom they were reconciled in others. His life embodied many forms of the coincidence of opposites. He united the simplicity of Assisi with the sophistication of the University of Paris, the mystical contemplation of La Verna with the ecclesiastical politics of the Council of Lyons. He combined the humility of a friar with the dignity of a cardinal, the speculation of a theologian with the practicality of an administrator, a high degree of sanctity with the most technical learning of his time. His writings reflect the same coincidence of opposites; they include mystical works as well as scholastic treatises, and works that combine the two. In the controversies that spanned his intellectual career, he attempted to bring together disparate camps: the secular masters and the mendicants, Platonists and Aristotelians, Joachites and traditional eschatologists. Within the Franciscan Order he emerged as the leader who through his own integration of sanctity and learning, of mysticism and practicality, was able to maintain unity within the Order and guide it in a direction that would preserve the primitive ideal while adapting to the practical necessities of change and evolution. He was able to hold together the Spirituals and the moderates and to unite the ideal of Francis with changing circumstances in the area of poverty, study, and the interpretation of the Rule. The same spirit of reconciliation animated his work for the Church as a whole, as is seen during the final months of his life in his efforts to bring about the union of the East and the West at the Council of Lyons.

Structure of Bonaventure's Thought

The same coincidence of opposites that permeates Bonaventure's life is found throughout his thought. This is true both of the diverse traditions he brought together in his system and also of the system itself. As a medieval synthesizer, Bonaventure attempted to unite the Patristic tradition with the scholasticism of the Middle Ages. Even in dealing with the past, he drew together a number of diverse strands. He united the East and the West by integrating Augustinianism with the theology of the Greek Fathers that was channeled into the West through the Pseudo-Dionysius. This complex integration of earlier traditions he blended with the new Franciscanism of his own era. On the philosophical level, he attempted to integrate the Platonism of the Fathers with the Aristotelianism of the scholastics. In the theology of history he tried to unite the classical Augustinian vision with the problematic eschatology of Joachim of Fiore. The way in which he brought these diverse strands together was through the coincidence of opposites. Bonaventure's thought is organized around three dominant themes: the Trinity, Christ, and the reflection of God in the universe. All three of these themes contain as their inner logic the coincidence of opposites, which also unites them among themselves. In the following section we will explore the general outlines of Bonaventure's thought, observing how these three themes provide the architectonic design of his synthesis. Throughout the remainder of the book we will analyze these three themes according to the coincidence of opposites in order to reveal the all-pervasive logic of Bonaventure's thought.

Perhaps the best way to view Bonaventure's synthesis is to compare it to a Gothic cathedral. Much of his building materials he received from the past, chiefly from Augustine and the Pseudo-Dionysius. He drew philosophical elements from Platonism, Neo-Platonism, and the new resources of Aristotle.⁸¹ As a thirteenth century synthesizer, he shaped this material into an integral whole, using the tools of scholastic logic and the architectonic design of the Commentary on the Sentences and the summa, which his teacher Alexander of Hales was so instrumental in developing. He produced an intellectual edifice resembling the great Gothic cathedrals of the same period - for example, Notre Dame of Paris, Rheims, Chartres - in its lofty thrust, its interlocked design, and its rich complexity. But we notice immediately that this edifice reflects the spirit of Francis of Assisi. Bonaventure had captured the simplicity of Francis and had restructured it, while preserving its authenticity, in the sweeping grandeur of his intellectual edifice. The Franciscan experience provides not only a spirit permeating the whole, but also essential elements in the design that give distinctive contours to Bonaventure's structure.

Bonaventure drew his doctrine of God from sources that go back to the Greek Fathers. Following the Greek tradition, his doctrine of God is dynamic and emphatically Trinitarian, with the Father seen as the source of dynamism and unity in the Godhead. Unlike the Augustinian tradition in the West, Bonaventure does not make a sharp distinction between the divine nature and the Trinity. Consequently he is able to draw a continuous line from the dynamism of the Father to creation. From the Pseudo-Dionysius came the central emphasis on emanation and the notion that the good is self-diffusive. This strong, dynamic, Trinitarian emanationism is the foundational element in Bonaventure's system, providing the base for the doctrine of exemplarism, according to which the entire created universe reflects the Trinity. Exemplarism is the characteristic doctrine of Bonaventure's synthesis and the most systematically elaborated. With roots both in the Greek Fathers and in Augustine, Bonaventure's exemplarism is articulated chiefly according to the latter's formulation of the divine ideas and the world as a vestige of the Trinity.

While Bonaventure's doctrine of God was derived chiefly from the Greek tradition, his doctrine of man was taken from Augustine. Viewing man as the image of God, Bonaventure articulated his position through the Augustinian inner way and the analysis of man's faculties of memory, understanding, and will. His doctrine is based explicitly on Augustine's texts, although it reflects in a generic way the Greek Fathers' doctrine of man as image of God. Bonaventure followed Augustine in his analysis of human psychological experience, penetrating through various levels until he reached the reflection of God in the depths of the soul. However, he did not follow Augustine in the path of personal autobiography recorded in The Confessions, but rather in the more structural psychological analysis of the De Trinitate, which is reflected in the third chapter of Bonaventure's Itinerarium, with its analysis of the memory, understanding, and will as an image of the Trinity.⁸² Bonaventure drew from Augustine not only for his doctrine of man as image of God, but also for his doctrine of the world as vestige of the Trinity.⁸³ By reflecting the divine power, wisdom and goodness, all creatures are vestiges of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Although he drew his formulation from Augustine, he was articulating a different religious experience. Augustine's experience centered on individual subjectivity, on the soul as image of God, on the inward journey to discover God in the depths of the psyche. Augustine's writings do not express a strong cosmic sense, nor a sustained consciousness of the presence of God in the material world. This is undoubtedly due to many factors, one of which is very likely the lingering influence of his early Manichaeism. In sharp contrast, Francis of Assisi was in tune with the entire cosmos; he took great joy in creation and sensed God's presence throughout nature. With Francis, Bonaventure was conscious of God's creatures, and contemplated the reflection of God across the vast expanse of the universe.⁸⁴ When he drew from the exemplarism of the Greek Fathers and Augustine, it was to give a philosophical-theological articulation of this Franciscan religious experience. In so doing, he made exemplarism the focal point of his entire system. All other elements - the emanation of the Greek Fathers and the image doctrine of Augustine - were shaped in such a way as to highlight exemplarism and to support the Franciscan religious experience.

Franciscan Religious Experience

We can compare the Franciscan experience of God's reflection in the universe to the experience one has within a Gothic cathedral. The sunlight pours through the great stained glass windows in a brilliant array of colors. The cathedral is illumined with blues, reds, greens, yellows in intricate designs - a kaleidoscope of colors and forms. The circular rose windows and the vaulted windows of the nave and apse become aglow with a riot of colors that are at the same time as harmonious as a symphony. In a similar way Francis saw God reflected in creatures: in brother sun and sister moon, in brother fire and sister water, in the power of the wolf and the gentleness of the dove. The fecundity of God is revealed in the variety of creatures - from the grandeur of the heavens to the simplicity of a fly. The pure rays of the divinity penetrate into the universe, which acts as a prism refracting the light into a myriad of colors.⁸⁵

The spirit of Francis' Canticle of Brother Sun is captured in Bonaventure's Itinerarium mentis in Deum, which is a systematic contemplation on the reflection of God throughout the universe and in human experience. No other writer in the Middle Ages has expressed so profoundly God's splendor shining through creatures. This is the dominant and all-pervasive theme in Bonaventure's writings, which he expresses in a wealth of poetic and mystical imagery, as well as metaphysical and theological concepts. For example, in the following passage from the Collationes in Hexaemeron, he uses a cluster of images, including that of light shining through a window:

. . . the entire world is a shadow, a road, a vestige, and it is also 'a book written without' [Ez. 2:9; Ap. 5:1]. For in every creature there is a shining forth of the divine exemplar, but mixed with darkness. Hence creatures are a kind of darkness mixed with light. Also they are a road leading to the exemplar. Just as you see that a ray of light entering through a window is colored in different ways according to the different colors of the various parts, so the divine ray shines forth in each and every creature in different ways and in different properties; it is said in Wisdom: 'In her ways she shows herself [Wis. 6:17]. Also creatures are a vestige of the wisdom of God. Hence creatures are like a kind of representation and statue of the wisdom of God. And in view of all of this, they are a kind of book written without.⁸⁶

Not only does Bonaventure use luxuriant poetic and mystical images to express this theme, but he reserves for it some of his most forceful rhetoric. For example, the following passage appears in the Itinerarium immediately after his contemplation of God in the sevenfold characteristics of creatures:

Therefore, whoever is not enlightened by such great splendor in created things is blind; whoever remains unheedful of such great outcries is deaf; whoever does not praise God all these effects is dumb; whoever does not turn to the First Principle after so many signs is a fool. Open your eyes, therefore; alert the ears of your spirit, unlock your lips and apply your heart that you may see, hear, praise, love and adore, magnify and honor your God in every creature, lest perchance, the entire universe rise against you.⁸⁷

To share this vision of Bonaventure, we must enter the religious experience of Francis; otherwise we would remain, as it were, outside the Gothic cathedral, looking merely at the exterior of the stained glass windows. We would see only the abstract design on a drab and utterly uninteresting surface - without a hint of the warmth and dazzling colors within. This has often happened to Bonaventure. Coming upon him for the first time, some have read him from the outside, and found him dry and abstract like the exterior of the stained glass windows. As in the case of the cathedral, if we enter within, then everything is transformed. If we enter into the Franciscan religious experience, then his thought begins to glow with an interior radiance, and all the complex elements in its structure can be seen to support this experience. Just as the interior of the cathedral is shaped by the gigantic pillars and soaring arches within and supported by the flying buttresses without, so Bonaventure has constructed a lofty theological edifice from materials supplied by Augustine and the Pseudo-Dionysius and has strengthened it by the buttresses of Platonism and Aristotelianism.

But we can view a Gothic cathedral from many points of view. For example, we can be moved by the sacred atmosphere within and the warmth of the colors of the stained glass windows. Or we can study certain structural elements in their limited functions, such as the arches within and the flying buttresses without. Or we can leave the cathedral, withdraw some distance and view the design of the whole, grasping in a single glance the contours of the towers, the facade, and the total mass of the building. It is important to withdraw and view the overall design of the whole, otherwise we would have only a limited and even distorted view of the cathedral. In the case of Bonaventure, if we remained within the glow of the Franciscan religious experience at the interior of his thought, we might interpret him exclusively as a spiritual writer and mystical theologian who gave articulation to the religious experience of his founder. On the other hand, if we were to examine some of the structural supports in isolation, we might interpret him exclusively as a philosopher - a Platonist or Aristotelian - without seeing these elements in the overarching theological design that gives them significance. For Bonaventure, as for his medieval contemporaries, the basic architectural framework of his system was theological.

The primacy of theology in the design of Bonaventure's synthesis has been widely acknowledged; yet in practice it has been obscured by two tendencies. At times scholars have extracted philosophical elements and studied them in isolation from the theological context that shapes their meaning. Such a procedure would do violence to any medieval theologian, but especially to Bonaventure, who has built philosophy and theology into a closely interlocked structure. Others have not fallen into this trap but have examined philosophical elements against the background of Bonaventure's theology. Yet their emphasis has kept his theology precisely in the background, allowing its contours to remain vague, without the sharp delineation their importance deserves. The rise of neo-scholasticism in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries - with its strong emphasis on medieval philosophy - gave great impetus to these two tendencies. To counteract these tendencies, one must back away, as it were, and view Bonaventure's thought as a whole - on its own terms, with its own structure, and with its own distinctive outlines. We must withdraw and observe from a distance, where we can grasp the master design and discern the contours of the whole.

The Two Towers of the Cathedral

When we do this, the outlines of Bonaventure's thought become clear. We observe that theology provides his unifying theme, and further that his theology has a distinctive design. In his theology two elements stand out sharply - like the towers of a Gothic cathedral - giving the ultimate shape to the whole. These two elements are his Trinitarian theology and Christocentricity. In his doctrine of the Trinity and of the centrality of Christ, Bonaventure's thought reaches its culmination and achieves its distinctive design.

Yet if we look more closely, we will observe that these two towers are not symmetrical as are, for example, the towers of Notre Dame of Paris. Rather they are like the towers of Chartres, developed in different periods and reflecting diverse styles. The design of Bonaventure's Trinitarian theology was present from the beginning, from his writing of the Commentary on the Sentences. It was inherited from his teacher Alexander of Hales and from the Victorines, who, in turn, received it from the Pseudo-Dionysius and ultimately from the tradition of the Greek Fathers. Even from the beginning Bonaventure's Trinitarian theology was systematic, self-reflective, and intricately elaborated.

On the other hand, his Christocentricity emerged gradually, from Bonaventure's Franciscan roots. Latent in the early period, it reached self-consciousness in his meditation on Francis' vision at La Verna and concrete literary form in the Itinerarium. It reached its highest development in the Collationes in Hexaemeron. Yet, unlike Chartres, this tower is left unfinished. The foundations, the design, and even the beginnings of the superstructure are there; but they lack the systematic analysis and critical self-reflection that is characteristic of his Trinitarian theology.

If we study these two towers, we will grasp the distinctive lines of Bonaventure's theological superstructure. In this comprehensive design, we will observe how the other elements of this thought are shaped to perform their distinctive functions within a unified whole. We will see how this design harmonizes with his Franciscan religious experience and how it gives it a foundation and an ultimate expression. The dynamic Trinity is the source of exemplarism; for as the Son expresses the Father, so creation expresses the Son and is rooted in the power and unity of the Father. Furthermore, the exemplaristic universe reaches its culmination in the Incarnation and the mystery of Christ as the center of creation. As expressing God, all of creation strives towards the maximum expression which is realized in Christ. Under these two mysteries of divine expressionism, all other aspects of Bonaventure's thought are subsumed: his doctrine of creation, his notion of man as image of God and the world as vestige, his Platonism and his Aristotelianism, and his adaptation of the eschatology of Joachim of Fiore.

I believe that the best way to present Bonaventure's thought is through this overarching design since the unity of his vision can be maintained throughout. Furthermore, in studying these two poles, we can discern the evolution of Bonaventure's thought - an evolution which does not alter its unity, but rather fulfills it. The Trinitarian pole reflects his anchoring in the theological tradition, and the Christocentric pole reflects the emergence of a new consciousness of the mystery of Christ on the part of the Christian community. Emphasizing the humanity of Jesus in his passion and as the center of the universe, this new consciousness was germinating for centuries in the spirit of Western Europe. In the personality of Francis, it reached a remarkable embodiment; and in the course of Bonaventure's life, it emerged gradually into awareness until it became the second tower giving final balance and harmony to his theological system.

In dealing with the evolution of Bonaventure's thought, we will divide his writings into three periods: The first period, during his teaching years at Paris from 1248 to 1257, reflects the academic-scholastic world of the University. Here we will concentrate on the Commentary on the Sentences, the disputed questions De mysterio Trinitatis, and the Breviloquium. In the second period, from 1257 to 1267, Bonaventure composed his mystical works. Here we will draw chiefly from the Itinerarium and the Lignum vitae. In the final period, 1267-1273, he was engaged in controversies through his three series of collationes. Our chief focus of attention here will be the final series, the Collationes in Hexaemeron.

Trinitarian Design

Even in the first period, during Bonaventure's teaching years at the University of Paris, 1248-1257, his Trinitarian theology is found in its essential features. As early as the Commentary on the Sentences (1250-1252), the basic elements are present and systematically developed. Aspects of his teaching on the Trinity are elaborated in greater detail in the disputed questions De Trinitate and De scientia Christi (both in 1254) . In the Breviloquium (1254-1257), which draws this period to a completion, the Trinitarian theology is again integrated in a summa structure, similar to that of the Commentary. Although reflecting the refinement of the intervening years, the design of the doctrine remains substantially that of the Commentary.⁸⁸

This Trinitarian design contains the following elements: (1) The Trinity is conceived according to the Greek model and not the Latin model. Like the Greek Fathers, Bonaventure focuses on the Father as dynamic source and not on the persons as relations as Augustine had done. Bonaventure also integrated the Latin or Augustinian model of the Trinity into his thought, but it always remained subordinated to the Greek model. (2) The Trinitarian processions, then, are seen as the expression of the Father's fecundity. In this perspective, Bonaventure developed a highly elaborated doctrine of the generation of the Son, as Image and Word of the Father. (3) Bonaventure makes a self-conscious link between the Trinity and creation. The world issues ultimately from the fecundity of the Trinity and reflects the Trinity, according to various categories of representation: vestige, image, similitude. (4) This Trinitarian theology is the basis for Bonaventure's spirituality, in which the soul as image of the Trinity returns to its Trinitarian source.⁸⁹

Father as "Fontalis Plenitudo"

Bonaventure's characteristic notion of God is that of dynamic and fecund source. This fecundity is realized not only in God's act of creation, but within his inner Trinitarian life. Hence the mystery of the Trinity is seen precisely as the mystery of the divine fecundity rooted in the Father as source. This basic element in Bonaventure's Trinitarian design is present at the very beginning of the early period. In the second distinction of the Commentary on the Sentences, Bonaventure relates fecundity not only to the divine nature but to the Trinity itself.⁹⁰ According to Bonaventure, supreme happiness, perfection, simplicity, and primacy all demand that there be a plurality of persons in God. At the base of these reflections is the notion of self-diffusive, self-transcending, self-communicating love that Bonaventure inherited from Richard of St. Victor and the Pseudo-Dionysius.⁹¹ In his fourth point, namely primacy, Bonaventure makes the formal connection between self-diffusive fecundity and the person of the Father, although this connection is understood also in the case of happiness, perfection, and simplicity. He writes of primacy:

. . . but the more primary a thing is, the more it is fecund and the principle of others. Therefore just as the divine essence, because it is first, is the principle of other essences, so the person of the Father, since he is the first, because from no one, is the principle and has fecundity in regard to persons.⁹²

Later, in distinction 27 of the first book of the Commentary, Bonaventure deals with the fecundity of the Father in greater detail.⁹³ He analyzes the Father's personal property of innascibilitas, which means that the Father cannot be begotten nor proceed from another. Bonaventure claims that innascibilitas has both a negative and a positive meaning. Negatively it indicates a lack of source; but positively it indicates fecundity. Once again he applied the principle, which this time he cites from Aristotle.⁹⁴ The more primary the principles are, the more powerful or fecund they are. Therefore the Father, as absolutely primary, is absolutely fecund. Bonaventure refers to this absolute fecundity of the Father as fontalis plenitudo, or fountain-fullness. This focusing on the Father as fecund source situates Bonaventure within the tradition of the Greek Fathers, who called the Father the pyge, the primordial fountain-spring of the divinity.⁹⁵

Thus in the first book of the Commentary on the Sentences, we see Bonaventure's characteristic Trinitarian theology: dynamic fecundity associated with the inner Trinitarian life and grounded in the person of the Father. This design is not only present, but is highly self-conscious and analyzed with a precision that will not be equaled in his later works. Undoubtedly his Trinitarian theology was highly developed so early in his career because he had inherited an ancient tradition. Stemming from the Greek Fathers, this tradition reached Bonaventure in a highly developed form, with distinctly Western embellishments made by the Victorines and his teacher Alexander of Hales. To this tradition Bonaventure made his own creative contributions, but these are visible at the outset and do not show a significant growth.

In the other writings of his early period, Bonaventure's basic Trinitarian design is present in various ways. In the disputed questions De scientia Christi, the notion of Father as fecund source remains largely a silent presupposition behind the explicit issues, which deal with the Word in relation to the world. In the disputed questions De mysterio Trinitatis, Bonaventure treats the themes of fecundity and primacy explicitly and at considerable length. Finally in the Breviloquium, he sketches this basic Trinitarian design with remarkable consciousness and clarity.⁹⁶

In his later writings Bonaventure will not change or substantially develop his dynamic view of the Trinity, based on the Father as fontalis plenitudo. His Trinitarian synthesis of Chapter 6 of the Itinerarium (1259) presents the same view with a remarkable blend of compactness and complexity.⁹⁷ Yet even here his basic position is not more self-conscious than in the Commentary. In fact, the notion of primacy is not explicitly mentioned, nor does he speak of the Father's fontalis plenitudo. Rather the mystery of Trinitarian fecundity is presented through the Pseudo-Dionysian notion of the good as self-diffusive. This notion of the self-diffusive good is the basis for his exploration of the Trinity in Collatio XI in Hexaemeron (1273) .⁹⁸ In the later writings one can detect a shift from the notion of primacy and fontalis plenitudo to the notion of self-diffusive good. If one holds, as does this writer, that the notion of primacy and the Father as fontalis plenitudo are prior to the notion of self-diffusive good, then he can say that the basis of Bonaventure's Trinitarian theology was more thoroughly explored in his earlier than in his later writings.

Son as Image and Word

The second element in Bonaventure's Trinitarian theology consists in the dynamic Trinitarian processions, with special focus on the generation of the Son as Image and Word. This element derives directly from the fontalis plenitudo of the Father. Because the Father is the fecund source - the good that is absolutely self-diffusive - he expresses his fecundity absolutely in the generation of the Son and the spiration of the Holy Spirit. Thus the divine fecundity is realized in an absolute way within the inner life of the Trinity. This frees God's fecundity from dependence on the world, since God does not have to create in order to realize his fecundity. Bonaventure's position has profound theological and metaphysical implications, for it allows for a transcendent God who is not static or removed from the world. His transcendence consists precisely in his dynamic self-communication, but this self-communication is realized fully only at the heart of the divinity itself. His is a fecundity that breaks the bounds of all limitations and realizes itself adequately only in the generation of the Word and the spiration of the Holy Spirit. Thus God's fecundity does not have to be fitted on the Procrustean bed of creation. At the same time, his transcendent fecundity is the wellspring of creation and of his immanence in the world. The problem of how to balance God's fecundity, his transcendence, and his immanence has throughout the history of thought plagued such thinkers as Plotinus, Avicenna, Hegel, and Whitehead. By seeing transcendence itself as fecundity and by situating fecundity within the Trinity, Bonaventure has safeguarded God's transcendence and at the same time has provided a solid basis for God's immanence in the world.⁹⁹

That the divine fecundity is fully expressed in the Trinitarian processions is stated early in Bonaventure's writings, for example, in the first book of the Commentary:

It can nevertheless be said . . . that the Father's power is manifested in the production of the Word, and consequently the entire divine power, since the power of the Son and the Holy Spirit is one and they are equal in power.¹⁰⁰

Bonaventure develops this theme in great detail in the disputed questions De mysterio Trinitatis. In dealing with problems over infinity and the Trinity, Bonaventure states in several ways that the divine fecundity is perfectly expressed in the Trinitarian processions.¹⁰¹ Later, in the Itinerarium, he will state this point more forcefully; yet the position itself will remain essentially the same as found in the earlier writings. In the Itinerarium he proceeds by stating that God must be self-diffusive in the highest degree. This means that there must be within the divinity Trinitarian processions, since no other diffusion would meet the demands of maximum self-diffusion. Bonaventure writes:

For the diffusion that occurred in time in the creation of the world is no more than a pivot or point in comparison with the immense sweep of the eternal goodness. From this one is led to think of another and a greater diffusion - that in which the diffusing good communicates to another his whole substance and nature.¹⁰²

The boundless fecundity of the Father expresses itself in the generation of the Son, as Image and Word. This is the focal point of Bonaventure's entire theology. It was in treating the generation of the Son that Bonaventure made his famous observation: "This is our whole metaphysics: emanation, exemplarity, consummation."¹⁰³ It is in the Son that the fecundity of the Father finds its perfect Image; and it is from the Son, as Word, that all creation issues, and it is to him, as exemplar, that it reflects back and returns. In his early writings Bonaventure develops these themes in great depth and detail. Throughout the Trinitarian sections of the Commentary, Bonaventure discusses the Son as perfect Image and the most expressive Word of the Father.¹⁰⁴ In the disputed questions De mysterio Trinitatis, he states a theme that will occur often in his later writings:

The Father . . . generates the Word, which is the Father's likeness equal to him in all things. Hence just as the Father in understanding himself understands whatever he can understand, so in speaking the Word, he says whatever he can say and whatever can be said in the deity. Hence neither he nor any other of the persons in the Trinity, has another word to say in view of the fact that in that Word was said whatever can be said.¹⁰⁵

The Son is the complete and adequate expression of the Father, his first and final Word. In the Son the Father expresses himself and all he can make. This position requires a doctrine of the divine ideas and their relation both to the Word and to creatures. This doctrine is developed with great precision in the Commentary and in the disputed questions De scientia Christi and becomes the matrix of all of his later writings.¹⁰⁶

Trinity and Creation

As we have just seen, we cannot discuss Bonaventure's doctrine of the Word without touching the relation of the Word to creation. Yet it is wise to draw this point into sharper focus. The connection between the Trinity and creation cannot be over-stressed since it is the cornerstone of Bonaventure's entire world view. It is why he sees universal exemplarism and vestiges of the Trinity everywhere. For Bonaventure creation is not a mere external act of God, a making of an object on the fringe of the divine power. Rather creation is rooted in the fecundity of the inner Trinitarian life. True, the divine fecundity cannot express itself adequately in finite creation; yet in generating the Word as adequate Image of himself, the Father expresses in the Word all that he can make. The act of creation ad extra - while remaining free and not dependent on creatures - springs ultimately from the eternal fecundity of the Father and is an overflow of that fecundity. This connection between the Trinity and creation is already quite self-conscious in Bonaventure's early writings. For example, we find a sharp formulation in the disputed questions De mysterio Trinitatis where he speaks of two types of fontalitas, or dynamic source of production: one at the source of the Trinitarian processions and the other at the source of creation. For Bonaventure the prior is the root of the latter:

But this fontalitas is in a certain way the source of another fontalitas. Because the Father produces the Son and through the Son and with the Son produces the Holy Spirit, therefore God the Father through the Son with the Holy Spirit is the principle of all creatures. For unless he produced them from eternity, he could not through them produce in time.¹⁰⁷

By connecting the Trinitarian processions with creation, Bonaventure provides the background for the vestige-image doctrine which he develops so richly in the Itinerarium and the Collationes in Hexaemeron. All of the finite world of creation reflects the power, wisdom, and goodness of God and hence is a vestige of the Trinity. Rational creatures reflect God in a special way since they have him as their object; they are also images of the Trinity in their memory, intelligence, and will. Although the panorama of creation as vestige-image is sketched in striking colors in Bonaventure's later writing, the elements of the doctrine are sharply analyzed in his early period. The classical source for Bonaventure's divisions on this point is found in the first book of the Commentary.¹⁰⁸ Here Bonaventure distinguishes umbra, vestigium, and imago according to: (1) the manner of representing God, whether from a distance and obscurely or from near at hand and distinctly; (2) the aspect of God that is involved, whether as general cause, or as efficient, formal, and final cause, or as the object of the memory, understanding, and will; (3) whether general aspects of God are grasped or personal properties; (4) the classes of creatures, namely, all creatures reflect God as cause and as triple cause, but only rational creatures have God as object. This division, which is merely summarized here, is remarkably precise and can be used to answer questions of interpretation that arise over passages in the later writings, e.g., in the Itinerarium or the Collationes in Hexaemeron.

This exemplaristic Trinitarian vision forms the context for Bonaventure's spirituality. In Collatio I in Hexaemeron, he describes his vision as: creation emanating from the Word, reflecting the Word, and returning to the Word - and through the Word to the Father.¹⁰⁹ In the disputed questions De mysterio Trinitatis, he expresses the same vision. Although the stages of the soul's ascent are not sketched out so systematically as in the Itinerarium, the generic outlines of the vision are present:

Hence this alone is eternal life: that the rational spirit, which flows from the most blessed Trinity and is an image of the Trinity, return by way of an intelligible circle by memory, understanding, and will, through divine likeness of glory to the most blessed Trinity.¹¹⁰

This brings to a close our treatment of the Trinitarian pole of Bonaventure's theology. As we suggested in the beginning, his Trinitarian theology stands like the tower of a Gothic cathedral, giving distinctive shape to the contours of his thought. The Trinitarian pole reveals the following design: At the base is the notion of the Father as fontalis plenitudo, from whose fecundity the Trinitarian processions flow as the absolute expression of the self-diffusive fullness of the divinity. Creation is an overflow of this goodness and has its roots within the dynamism of the Trinitarian life. The world, then, reflects its archetype as Trinitarian vestige. As images of the Trinity, rational creatures have God as their object and are in a process of return to their divine source. This design was present from the outset of Bonaventure's writings. Although the Trinitarian theology of the later period shows the marks of a mature mind, with enriched depth and complexity, in his early writings the basic Trinitarian design is explored in an analytic-critical manner that in certain areas is not equaled later.

Evolution of Christocentricity

In contrast with his Trinitarian theology, Bonaventure's Christocentricity does not emerge into prominence until the middle period, and then undergoes a development that reaches its climax in the Collationes in Hexaemeron. In order not to overstate our case, we must distinguish two dimensions of Bonaventure's Christocentricity: the Trinitarian and the Incarnational. His doctrine of the Trinity itself contains a strong Christocentric dimension, or it might be more accurate to say a strong Logos-centered dimension. The Son is the center of the Trinity, the persona media, the exemplar of all creation, the light illumining human knowledge and the medium of man's return to the Trinity.¹¹¹ We are not claiming that this Trinitarian dimension emerged late or that it underwent a significant evolution. Since this dimension is essential to the design of his Trinitarian theology, we maintain that it was present and, in fact, was richly developed during the early period.

If, however, we shift our attention to the Incarnational dimension, we can detect an evolution. But again we must distinguish. One dimension of Bonaventure's Christocentricity deals with the hypostatic union as such and is concerned with the mystery of Christ as the union of the divine and the human. The hypostatic union is explored as the basis of Christ's mediatorship between God and man and as the root of the doctrine of redemption. This dimension of Bonaventure's thought is, of course, developed extensively in his early writings, e.g., in the third book of the Commentary on the Sentences, in the Breviloquium, and in the disputed questions De scientia Christi.¹¹² This first dimension of Bonaventure's Incarnational Christocentricity forms the basis for the second dimension, which sees Christ as the dynamic center of the soul's journey into God, the center of the universe, and the center of history. It is this latter dimension that we claim emerged at the middle period, underwent a development, and reached its climax in the final period.

It is necessary to specify more precisely what we mean by the second dimension of Christocentricity. In this dimension Christ operates as a dynamic center - drawing into an integrated whole all the elements of the individual soul, of the physical universe, and of history. This dynamic center is the incarnate Christ in his concrete particularity, in the mystery of his humanity, involved in the process of transformation through death and resurrection. We can call this a cosmic Christocentricity since Christ is the center of the three major dimensions of the created cosmos: the soul, the physical universe, and history. All lines of the cosmos converge in Christ the center and through him are transformed and return to the Father. This cosmic Christocentricity presupposes the other two Christological poles - the Trinitarian Logos and the hypostatic union - and brings these to an integrated completion. The Trinitarian Logos-centricity is universalistic in the sense that the entire cosmos reflects the Logos. On the other hand, the mystery of the incarnate Logos is particularistic in the sense that it occurs in a particular place and time. Cosmic Christocentricity unites these two poles, for it is precisely the particularity of the historical Jesus that integrates into an organic and dynamic energy system the entire cosmos - the physical universe, history and the spiritual energies of mankind.

The dimension of cosmic Christocentricity is of paramount importance to the historian and systematic theologian. First, for the sake of clarity, since it is a distinctive dimension of Christology, it must be carefully distinguished from other dimensions. Secondly, cosmic Christocentricity is as ancient as the New Testament, appearing, for example, in the cosmic hymn of the letter to the Colossians.¹¹³ In the twentieth century it has emerged in a new form in the evolutionary vision of Teilhard de Chardin. Throughout the intervening history it has been prominent in certain theologians and lacking in others. Thirdly, from a systematic point of view it can serve as a link between the universalistic and particularistic tension in Christology. In my opinion, cosmic Christocentricity always remains implicit as a necessary logical link between the universalistic and particularistic poles of Christology, and will tend to emerge in the thought of a theologian even if he is unconscious of its presence or resists its force. Hence, I believe, a number of tensions in theology both in the past and today can be clarified and in certain cases resolved through the dimension of cosmic Christocentricity. In this task Bonaventure's contributions can be especially helpful.

Cosmic Christocentricity emerges strikingly in the Itinerarium, the piece that ushers in the second period of Bonaventure's writings. Retiring to La Verna in 1259 for peace and spiritual renewal, Bonaventure meditated on Francis's vision of the sixwinged Seraph.¹¹⁴ In a flash he realized that the vision symbolized both the goal of the soul's ascent into God and the stages of its progress. For our concerns here, it is important to note that the vision is Christocentric (for the Seraph is in the form of the Crucified) and that the Itinerarium unfolds in a Christocentric perspective. For example, in the prologue, Bonaventure states that, in the soul's journey into God, the way is only through a most ardent love of the Crucified.¹¹⁵ Later after presenting the tabernacle as a symbol of the soul, he meditates on Christ as the mercy seat at the center of the Holy of Holies, or the innermost chamber of the soul. In Chapters Six and Seven, he depicts Christ the center as-the medium of the soul's passage into the seventh or mystical stage. Gazing on the mystery of Christ the center, we see united in an extraordinary way cosmic opposites; and thus we are drawn into the seventh stage, by seeing united "the first and the last, the highest and the lowest, the circumference and the center, the 'Alpha and Omega,' the caused and the cause, the Creator and the creature, that is, 'the book written within and without.' "¹¹⁶

The Christ of the Itinerarium is the center of the soul and the center, the focal point, and the means of the soul's journey into God. He is the center around which all the activities of the soul are focused: sensation, memory, understanding, willing. It is through Christ as center - as crucified, incarnate Logos - that all our activities are led back to their root in the eternal Logos. And it is through Christ the center - as goal and medium of passage - that the soul progresses on its journey into God. In the Itinerarium Christ can be considered as the center of the universe as well as the center of the soul, since two of the wings of the Seraph symbolize the material world. However, when we analyze the Itinerarium, it becomes clear that the emphasis is on Christ the center of the soul and not as center of the universe. And it is only by extending the journey of the soul to the history of the universe that we can see in the Itinerarium Christ as the center of history.¹¹⁷

The notion of Christ the center of the soul is developed in great detail in the Lignum vitae (1260), written not long after the Itinerarium. Christ crucified is depicted as the tree of life, which branches out and blossoms in rich foliage, flowers, and fruit, symbolizing the moral virtues. By meditating on the humanity of Christ and the events of his life, by learning from him, and identifying with him, our souls can blossom forth in the virtues of humility, piety, confidence, patience, constancy.¹¹⁸ Thus in the Lignum vitae Christ is the center of the moral life of the soul, just as in the Itinerarium he had been depicted as the center of the mystical life of the soul. In each case the Christocentricity is presented in a symbol: the six-winged Seraph and the tree of life. By analyzing these symbols in great detail, Bonaventure draws the moral and mystical energies of the soul to focus on Christ the center and through this centering to develop towards a rich and integrated spiritual life.

In the middle period, Bonaventure developed the theme of Christ the center of the soul. In the final period the emphasis shifted to Christ the center of the universe and history. In the Collationes in Hexaemeron, Bonaventure's crowning piece of the final period, his Christocentricity comes to full flowering and receives its strongest rhetorical expression. In the first of the Collationes, which serves as an overture of the entire series, Bonaventure develops the theme of Christ as universal center.¹¹⁹ He is the center of all the sciences: metaphysics, physics, mathematics, logic, ethics, jurisprudence, and theology. The sciences study the entire expanse of reality - from the generation of the Son in the Trinity, through creation, to the return of creatures to the Father. On every level, Christ is the center: metaphysical center in his eternal generation, physical center in his incarnation, mathematical center in his passion, logical center in his resurrection, ethical center in his ascension, juridical center in the final judgment, and theological center in eternal beatitude. Although the notion of Christ the center of the soul is present within the collatio¹²⁰ the emphasis here is on the panorama of the universe and the crucial events of salvation history.

It is interesting to compare this Christocentric vision with the panorama of the universe presented from the viewpoint of the Trinity in the Itinerarium, Chapter One, n. 14.¹²¹ In the Itinerarium Bonaventure contemplates creation from seven vantage points and in each discerns the divine power, wisdom, and goodness manifested in creatures. Thus the treatment of the universe in the Itinerarium remains within the Trinitarian vestige pole of Bonaventure's thought and is not explicitly subsumed into the Christocentric pole, as is richly done in the first Collatio in Hexaemeron.

In the first Collatio Bonaventure depicts Christ as the center of both the universe and history. He is the center of history in the great events that shape salvation history: his incarnation, crucifixion, resurrection, ascension, and judgment. This notion of Christ the center of history unfolds as a basic theme throughout the Collationes and plays an important role in Bonaventure's eschatology. Ultimately the notion of Christ the center of history derives from the Trinitarian and the Incarnational dimensions of Bonaventure's thought. As Ratzinger says:

It is precisely the figure of Jesus Christ, the middle person in the Trinity as well as the mediator and middle between God and man, who gradually becomes the synthesis of everything that is expressed for Bonaventure in the concept of center. Christ becomes the center. And as a consequence of this general interpretation of Christ from the notion of center, He becomes also the 'center of time.'¹²²

Because Christ is the center of history, Bonaventure's notion of time differs from that of Aristotle and the Joachites.¹²³ His Trinitarian dimension of Christocentricity differentiates him from Aristotle. For Bonaventure time is involved in the emanation and return of creatures. All things emanate through the Logos and all things return through the Logos to the Father. Since the Logos is the Alpha and the Omega, time must have a beginning and an end. Hence the world cannot be eternal, as Aristotle had held, nor is time merely the measure of motion in an endless series of generation and corruption of forms.

While the Trinitarian dimension of his Christocentricity differentiates Bonaventure from Aristotle, it is chiefly the Incarnational dimension - developed into its cosmic Christocentric form - that differentiates him from the Joachites. To explain the ages of history the Joachites used a Trinitarian theory. After the ages of the Father and of the Son, a third age will come - the age of the Spirit, which will dissolve the forms of the previous age and usher in a spiritual era. In contrast, for Bonaventure Christ remains the middle person of the Trinity, the dynamic center of the Trinitarian processions. The Logos is completed, not superseded in the Spirit. And as incarnate Logos, he is the center through which the incarnational structures of history are not dissolved, but transformed. Thus for Bonaventure the historical process remains at its core Christocentric.

This brings to a close our brief survey of the Christocentric pole of Bonaventure's thought. His Christocentricity is profoundly conceived, forcefully presented, and comprehensively expanded: Christ is the center of the soul, of the universe, and of history. Yet one wishes that he had given to his cosmic Christocentricity the same self-reflective, analytical, and critical scrutiny that he gave to his Trinitarian theology. There are, of course, many reasons for this lack. First, he did not have the leisure or the academic setting in his last years that he enjoyed during his period at the University of Paris. Secondly, the literary genres of the mystical treatises and the collationes do not lend themselves to the type of analytic-critical reflection that characterizes the scholastic genres of the early writings. Thirdly, although his Christocentricity arises in the meditative calm of La Verna, it becomes caught up later in polemic turmoil in the Collationes in Hexaemeron - against the Averroists and the Joachites. In the heat of controversy the polemic side of his position emerges rather than the critical-analytical. Fourthly, his Trinitarian theology had come to him as a developed tradition, with sharply formulated positions, questions, and analytic tools - in one tradition from the Greek Fathers, in another from Augustine, and with the technical embellishments that emerged out of the twelfth century Trinitarian discussions. His cosmic Christocentricity did not come to him in that way. What he inherited from the past was not accompanied with critical apparatus. And the distinctive quality of his Christology arose out of the much more recent tradition of Francis. In Bonaventure's time it had not yet been shaped into a synthetic vision and formulated as an intellectual position. In this Bonaventure himself was a pioneer. He took two elements found in Francis: the sense of the universal presence of God in nature and the imitation of Christ. These he fused into a doctrine of universal Christocentricity. Although one can appreciate the many historical forces that shaped Bonaventure's Christocentricity, one wishes that after reading the Collationes in Hexaemeron, he could turn back to the Commentary and find a series of distinctions on Christocentricity - with sharply defined terms, divisions, and critical dialogue with objections. And one wishes that as a companion piece to the disputed questions De scientia Christi, one could find a series De Christo medio.

If Bonaventure had given his Christocentricity such an analytical-critical treatment, his synthesis would have been more complete. And he would provide us with more effective tools to solve some of the speculative problems that are inherent in the Christian vision: How to relate the Trinitarian mystery to the mystery of Christ? What are the implications of a thoroughgoing Christocentricity? For systematic theology? For Christian spirituality? For the relation of Christ to culture and Christ to time? For the relation of Christianity and other religions? We will examine these questions in the last two chapters of this book when we explore Bonaventure's relevance to contemporary thought and ecumenism.

This, then, is the architectonic design of Bonaventure's synthesis, with a sketch of the various elements that are integrated within its structure. This entire structure has a single logic: that of the coincidence of opposites. This is clearest in the major structural elements of the design, especially in the two towers: the Trinity and Christocentricity. In our study of the Trinity, we will discover a number of forms of the coincidence of opposites: between the manifesting and nonmanifesting aspects of the divinity; between unity and plurality in the divinity; in the dynamic movement from the Father to the Son, to the union of the Spirit. In the other pole of Bonaventure's thought, in the mystery of Christ, we will see the most remarkable coincidence of opposites: God and man, the cause and the caused, the Alpha and the Omega; furthermore, we will see how the opposites of the universe are bound together in Christ the universal center. These two mysteries provide the two poles within which we can explore the coincidence of opposites in the Franciscan religious experience. In the reflection of God in creation we will see a union of the highest and the lowest, the absolute and the relative, the eternal and the temporal. It is the purpose of the remaining chapters of this book to study systematically the various types of the coincidence of opposites in Bonaventure's system: especially in the mysteries of the Trinity, Christ, and the reflection of God in creation.

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