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The primary task of this project is to exhibit and articulate the internal “logic” and deep structure of the apophases and negative theologies operative in the philosophical and theological reflections of two thinkers in late antiquity: Plotinus and Dionysius the Pseudo-Areopagite.1 Having set forth the task in that way, I would like to state upfront that the approach this study takes is not primarily historical: I do not, for example, examine the social and/or cultural history surrounding either the texts or persons of Plotinus and Pseudo-Dionysius. Nor do I attempt to analyze Plotinian and Dionysian apophases primarily in terms of, say, the history of ideas: for example, the way(s) in which Plotinus’s conception of the One is related and indebted to Plato’s notion of the Good beyond being. Nor do I engage in a specifically philological examination of the texts and terms. Rather, the approach I intend to take is primarily systematic, conceptual, and excavatory in character, interrogating—by way of a deep reading of the texts themselves—the internal structure, “logic,” and rationale(s) that drive and underwrite apophasis in both Plotinus and Dionysius. To be sure, where germane to the analysis, I do in fact present relevant historical observations in order to help establish the proper interpretive and systematic context for understanding Plotinian and Dionysian apophatic theologies.

More specifically, I will exhibit the way in which apophasis is generated by and deployed because of the particular metaphysical and explanatory role that the One and God play in Plotinus’s and Dionysius’s respective philosophical and theological reflections.2 In both cases, claims concerning the incomprehensibility and ineffability of the One or of God are, in turn, supported by lines of thought concluding to the peculiar metaphysical status of the One or of God as beyond being. Because being and knowledge are understood to be coextensive, that which is beyond being is, the reasoning goes, also beyond knowledge, speech, and discourse. Furthermore, understanding the metaphysical and explanatory lines of thought with respect to the One (Plotinus) and God (Dionysius) lays the necessary foundation for understanding Plotinian and Dionysian semantics where the One and God, respectively, are at issue. In turn, a basic understanding of Plotinian and Dionysian metaphysics and semantics enables the reader to better understand the content and function of negative statements concerning the One (Plotinus) and God (Dionysius).

It turns out, however, that in the cases of both Plotinus and Dionysius, the project of metaphysical explanation, while crucial as an end in itself, also serves the broader goal of preparing the soul for mystical union with the One (Plotinus) or with God (Dionysius). So while apophasis is initially deployed to emphasize the unique metaphysical status of the One or of God in the context of explanation, it is also employed as negative, cognitive and trans-cognitive strategies that prepare the soul for mystical union.3 Moreover, the metaphysical convictions that guide the practice of negation in the context of explanation—in view of the One’s (Plotinus) or God’s (Dionysius) reality and metaphysical status—also inform the practice of negation in the context of mystical union. An important, though unemphasized presupposition and conviction of the approach this study takes is that the structures, rationales, and internal “logics” of Plotinian and Dionysian apophatic theologies, as well as their richness and sophistication, are best exhibited by taking into account both the key, operative metaphysical conceptions and the broader context of the soul’s ascent toward mystical union.

While it may seem prima facie that this study of Plotinian and Dionysian apophases is motivated strictly by interests in the philosophy and theology of late antiquity, that is not in fact the case. Rather, this investigation is motivated by systematic interests in the distinctive nature, character, structure, function, and rationale of apophasis as deployed in different philosophical, theological and religious reflection(s). Indeed, one motive of the task of this project is to understand the “deep” background of what I take to be the relatively recent revival of interest in apophasis and negative theology, exemplified for example in the works of, and conversation between, Jacques Derrida and Jean-Luc Marion. It should be noted that the works of, and conversation between, Derrida and Marion have their beginnings, respectively, in the late 1960s (Derrida), and in the late 1970s/early 1980s (Marion). In his highly influential essay, “Différance,” Derrida distinguishes “différance,” for instance, from “the most negative of negative theologies.”4 In Marion’s case, his first two books—The Idol and Distance and God Without Being—contain analyses and deployments of apophatic strategies, influenced in large part by the theology of Pseudo-Dionysius.5

The “conversation” can be construed to begin with Marion’s text The Idol and Distance, in which Marion attempts to read Dionysius in a way that circumvents or eludes both the nihilism and conceptual atheism of the “death of God” philosophy as well as Heidegger’s critique of metaphysics as onto-theo-logical.6 The “conversation” can be understood to continue with Derrida’s essay, “How to Avoid Speaking,” in which Derrida not only (deconstructively) analyzes and evaluates Dionysian negative theology, but also indirectly presents that analysis and evaluation in response to Marion’s interpretation of Dionysius.7 At a conference at Villanova University in 1997, Derrida and Marion engaged in a public dialogue over several issues surrounding their respective work (as well as their “conversation”), one of which involved disagreement over the nature and status of negative theology and mystical theology in the texts of Pseudo-Dionysius.8 More recently, Jean-Luc Marion’s phenomenological investigations into the nature of phenomenality and into what he identifies as saturated phenomena have led him to revisit the role and status of apophatic theology and mystical theology in the texts of Dionysius the Pseudo-Areopagite.9

This “revival” of interest in apophasis and negative theology exemplified in the work of Derrida and Marion—as well as in that of scholars engaging the constellation of issues engendered by their work—raises questions about its (i.e., apophatic/negative theology’s) historical background.10 If, as I believe it to be, the debate between Derrida and Marion is primarily, though not exclusively, rooted in the deeper question(s) of whether or not (and in what respects) Dionysian apophatic and mystical theology is finally susceptible to Heidegger’s critique that philosophy-qua-metaphysics is onto-theo-logically constituted (as well as being susceptible to the implications of that critique, such as, for example, the issue of “presence” vis-à-vis consciousness that Derrida emphasizes), then it would be extremely beneficial for anyone interested in these kinds of issues to examine again the texts of Pseudo-Dionysius in order to exhibit and articulate as explicitly as possible the character, structure, function, and rationale of the apophatic and mystical theology of Dionysius.

To state the benefit of reexamining the apophatic and mystical theology of Dionysius in that way is not to be committed to the position that its importance lies merely in the ways that it has been recently treated of or appropriated. One long-range goal of the present project is to determine whether and in what respects the type of apophatic and/or “mystical” moves made by certain contemporary thinkers is finally sustainable without the kinds of conceptual and explanatory machinery employed by figures such as Pseudo-Dionysius and Plotinus, particularly when those moves involve, for instance, a retrieval and appropriation of Dionysian apophatic and mystical theology.

Consider, for example, Jean-Luc Marion’s multi-faceted retrieval and appropriation of Dionysius’s apophatic and mystical theology. Consider, more broadly, Marion’s non-metaphysical interpretation of Dionysian theology in The Idol and Distance.11 Part of Marion’s strategy is to read Dionysius’s texts in such a way that Dionysian theology does not fall prey to Heidegger’s critique of metaphysics as onto-theo-logically constituted.12 Such an interpretation would presumably be the first step in retrieving and appropriating Dionysian theology for his (Marion’s) own contemporary project. Without close analysis, however, it is not immediately clear whether Marion’s non-metaphysical interpretation is ultimately sustainable without the conceptual, explanatory, and metaphysical machinery that I contend is fundamental to and constitutive of Dionysian theology (including Dionysian apophatic and mystical theology).

Consider, more specifically, Marion’s recent reflections on what he calls “saturated phenomena.” According to Marion, there is class of phenomena that does not operate under the antecedent, enabling conditions which have heretofore been identified as the basis for the “appearance” of phenomena: namely, saturated phenomena.13 What makes saturated phenomena unique is that there is an excess of intuition with respect to any corresponding concept (rather than either an adequation between an intuition and a corresponding concept, or a deficiency of intuition with respect to a corresponding concept). Marion formulates his conception of saturated phenomena by appealing to Kant’s schema: Kant identifies four ultimate types—namely, Quantity, Quality, Relation, and Modality—and uses them to derive his table of judgment, and thereby, the twelve categories or pure concepts of the understanding/Verstand.14 Marion argues that saturated phenomena are phenomenalized in such a way and at such a fundamental level—that of the four ultimate types rather than at the more “derivative” level of the concepts of the understanding—that the typical process of the constitution of knowledge is disrupted. What Marion emphasizes about this epistemic condition is that the incapacity to constitute knowledge on the part of the human, knowing subject is due to an excess, rather than deficiency, of intuition.

Marion initially classifies four kinds of saturated phenomena according to the respects in which he understands such phenomena to exceed normal phenomena governed by each of the four, Kantian ultimate types. However, he goes on to identify a fifth kind of saturated phenomenon, which instantiates a “saturation of saturation”, or a saturation in respect of all four ultimate types: formally considered, this is what Marion claims transpires in the case of divine revelation.15 Although Marion appropriates Dionysian apophatic and mystical theology in several ways, the one I wish to highlight momentarily is the way in which one aspect of mystical union with God seems to involve a cognitive and epistemic condition in which there is an absence of “vision,” due to an excess, rather than deficiency, of “light.”16 There is an obvious, structural isomorphism between Dionysius’s conception of the aspect of mystical union just cited and Marion’s conception of divine revelation understood as a saturated phenomenon. Might it be that Dionysius’s conception of mystical union is what clued Marion to conceptualizing divine revelation in terms of a saturated phenomenon?17 But what if Dionysius’s conception of mystical union in fact hinges upon prior metaphysical convictions and reflections on the divine nature, convictions that would apparently be implicated by Heidegger’s critique of metaphysics: for instance, the line of thought concluding to the view that God remains incomprehensible because God’s reality is excessively hyper-essential/hyper-ontological?18

Although the issues above remain beyond the scope of the present project, part of the larger question raised by this project is that of discerning the particular, defining structure, rationale(s) and internal “logic” that underwrite the family of claims that typically seem to be part and parcel of any given negative theology: God is ineffable, incomprehensible, and so forth. In this broader context, it seems fair to ask the following sorts of questions: How extreme can an apophasis and negative theology be without the kinds of metaphysical convictions that are operative in and constitutive of the respective reflections of Plotinus and Dionysius?19 Conversely, are there, for example, ineluctable limitations to the deployment of any post-Heideggerian (or otherwise) phenomenological methodology attempting to avoid ontotheology? If so, would—and how would—those limitations constrain the kind and degree of negative and apophatic claims offered on strictly phenomenological bases?

Consider the following example: If, as Marion and Dionysius both seem to believe, an encounter with God—whether by way of divine revelation or mystical union—results in a cognitive and epistemic condition analogous to blindness which disallows the constitution of knowledge, and if that cognitive and epistemic condition is supposed to be due to an “excess” of God’s reality (or intuitive givenness, to use a phenomenological term), rather than a deficiency of some kind, then how would one have any independent means to actually determine whether that cognitive and epistemic state is in fact the consequence of excess rather than lack? It is not immediately clear how Marion would have the means to answer this question, at least based on what he has presented thus far.20 In Dionysius’s case, he would have recourse to the metaphysical and explanatory line of thought that concludes to the view that God’s reality is indeed excessively superabundant and hyper-essential/hyper-ontological.21

I believe that part of what makes the apophasis and negative theology of figures such as Plotinus and Pseudo-Dionysius so rich and sophisticated are the convictions and lines of thought that involve, entail, and/or constitute metaphysical explanation. Therefore, on the very broadest of levels, a key component of the task of the present project is to exhibit the way(s) in which such convictions and lines of thought contribute to the richness and sophistication of Plotinian and Dionysian apophases and negative theologies, inasmuch as they comprise an essential element of the structure, rationale and internal “logic” of those apophases and negative theologies. That is also to say, one of the aims of this study is to articulate and display, in the cases of both Plotinus and Pseudo-Dionysius, the integrity of the relationships between apophasis as deployed in metaphysical explanation and apophasis as deployed in the service of mystical union, and by implication, the integrity of the relationship(s) between metaphysical explanation and mystical union.

To be sure, the significance of the relationship between Plotinus and Dionysius—at least for the purposes of this project—lies in the systematic and conceptual connections between their respective apophases and negative theologies. On the one hand, to my knowledge, there is no explicit, direct historical evidence definitively supporting the view that Dionysius read either the Enneads or Porphyry’s biographical essay on the life of Plotinus.22 On the other hand, there is at least one metaphor that both Plotinus and Dionysius deploy as a conceptual model: both employ a sculpting metaphor in order to illustrate by analogy the practice of aphairesis—that is to say, the practice of denial understood, among other things, in terms of subtraction.23 Historically speaking, the figure whose thought links Plotinus and Dionysius is Proclus, from whom Dionysius seems to appropriate several Neoplatonic conceptualities.

Why, then, go back to Plotinus? Well, again for the purposes of this project, there are several reasons. First, historically speaking, Plotinus can arguably be understood to be the first thinker who deploys apophasis in such a systematic, philosophically-nuanced, and relentless manner, and therefore is a key figure for any student hoping to understand and appreciate apophasis and negative theology. Second, like Dionysius, Plotinus employs apophasis and negative theology in two ways: more narrowly in the service of metaphysical explanation, and more broadly as a means of preparing the soul for mystical union. Third, Plotinus’s pagan Neoplatonic, apophasis and negative theology serve as a fascinating and fruitful point of contrast with that of Dionysius, who takes himself to be articulating a specifically Christian logos.

Finally, I would like to add a few, brief remarks about the fruit and contribution of the present study. First and perhaps foremost, I believe that the present analysis of the deep structure and internal “logic” of both Plotinian and Dionysian apophases and negative theologies will provide illuminating and probing ways of understanding and evaluating the kinds of, and ways in which, apophasis and negative theology are deployed in various philosophical, theological, and religious contexts, including those of modern and contemporary philosophy and theology, such as in the case of Jean-Luc Marion.

Second, the interpretations of Plotinus and Dionysius elucidated in this study submit fresh and freshly illuminating ways of understanding their respective apophases: for example, the kind of metaphysical reading propounded exhibits facets of the structure and internal “logic” of Plotinian and Dionysian apophasis that a consideration of each thinker’s epistemology and/or negative language alone would not accomplish.

Third, this book intends to fill the following gap in scholarship: there has been no sustained examination in the secondary literature comparing and contrasting the negative theologies of Plotinus and Pseudo-Dionysius, two important historical figures whose texts have been significant for various areas of research in philosophy, theology, and religion: e.g., classical conceptions of God in late antiquity and the middle ages, as well as more recent philosophers and/or theologians whose work may build on or distance themselves from Plotinus’s view of the One or Dionysius’s view of God. Given the varying conceptions of divine simplicity in Plotinus and Dionysius, as well as the distinctive senses of their uses of the language of negation and denial in light of those conceptions, the present study might be used to raise further questions, for instance, concerning the types of models of divine aseity and divine simplicity conceptualized by Thomas Aquinas, Bonaventure, Meister Eckhart, and Nicholas of Cusa. Likewise, these metaphysical considerations may well have fascinating systematic consequences for understanding their respective conceptions of union with God, considered in via or in the eschaton.24 Take as a momentary example, the thought of Meister Eckhart. While Eckhart was clearly influenced by Pseudo-Dionysius—and as a well-accepted commonplace, Proclus as well—there may be reasons to consider the view that in some important respects his apophasis bears a strong, systematic “family” resemblance to what I take to be Plotinus’s radical deployment of apophasis.

In addition, the interpretations of Plotinus and Pseudo-Dionysius presented might be utilized more broadly to shed further light upon the complex relations not only between non-Christian and Christian Neoplatonism in late antiquity, but also between late-antique Platonism and late patristic theology.

Fourth, the kind of metaphysical reading of Dionysius presented might be employed to apply a bit of critical pressure to those interpretations which take him to have thoroughly domesticated whatever Neoplatonic conceptualities he has appropriated, presumably in the service of Christian doctrine and praxis. This study shows how Dionysius’s adoption of certain Proclean conceptualities bear directly and forcefully upon his deployment of apophasis, and therein, upon his view of God and of the God–world relation.

Finally, the explication and conceptual analysis of the cognitive and trans-cognitive practices of negation and denial in Plotinus and Dionysius might profitably serve as the basis for other historical and/or contemporary research in the areas of mysticism and mystical theology, such as for example the epistemological and/or philosophical-/theological-anthropological implications of such practices. In addition, the present study may serve as a resource for contributions to discussions concerning the rapprochement between certain forms of mysticism/mystical theology and contemporary philosophy/theology.25

Having addressed the basic motives of this study, the general approach it takes, as well as its potential contributions, we can proceed to layout the structure of the book. Broadly speaking, the book is divided into two parts. The first part consists of three chapters, and is an examination of Plotinus’s apophasis and negative theology as it relates to his understanding of the One. The second part consists of four chapters, and is an examination of Pseudo-Dionysius’s apophasis and negative/mystical theology as it relates to his understanding of God. In each case, I exhibit the richness and sophistication of Plotinus’s and Dionysius’s apophatic theology by articulating its deep structure and internal “logic” in two respects: first, those metaphysical and explanatory lines of thought which generate and sustain the requirement for negative statements concerning the One (Plotinus) or God (Dionysius); and second, the broader context in which negation functions in cognitive and trans-cognitive ways to prepare and enable the soul for an eventual union with the One or with God. However, while there are similarities between the apophases and negative theologies of Plotinus and Dionysius, the respective analyses do not consequently produce the same results.

In Plotinus’s case, I show why and how I judge Plotinian apophasis and negative theology to be perhaps the most extreme and “radical” of such practices. Correlative to the two respects identified above—metaphysical explanation and mystical union—there are two respects in which I characterize Plotinian apophasis and negative theology as “radical” and “extreme.” First, Plotinus’s convictions about the unusual metaphysical status of the One as absolutely simple and absolutely independent ultimately lead him to the following conclusion: the most appropriate way of understanding the One—which is to say, the way that acknowledges the peculiar and unique reality of the One—is to conceive of the One as utterly disconnected from and unrelated to everything else produced by it. In effect, Plotinus is asking his audience to sever the very relations that permit one to regressively reason back to the One so as to establish it as the unconditioned condition of all else. Second, with respect to mystical union, Plotinus argues that in order for the soul to prepare itself for union with the One, it must cease from all noetic activity, and, as Plotinus adamantly exhorts, “Take away everything!”26

In Dionysius’s case, I begin by showing how the kinds of metaphysical intuitions, convictions, and lines of thought operative in Plotinus’s negative theology function to generate apophasis. Unlike Plotinus, who is explicitly working to present a philosophical account of reality, Dionysius’s stated theological task is to properly interpret the biblical symbols of God in light of God’s reality. On the supposition that Dionysius appropriates several Proclean, metaphysical and explanatory conceptualities, I show that there is good reason to conclude that the priority Dionysius ultimately gives to divine unity suggests that the persons of the Trinity are themselves derivative, divine differentiations that proceed from an undifferentiated divine ground. This implies therefore that there is not only an apophasis correlative to the God–world relation, but also perhaps another, yet “deeper,” more extreme apophasis correlative to, and required by, the relationship between the trinitarian persons and that undifferentiated divine ground. With regard to mystical union, I exhibit the way in which the ordered denial of aphairesis functions anagogically as a necessary but not sufficient condition preparing the soul for union with God.

In chapter 1, I establish a framework from within which to understand the demand for apophasis with respect to the One: the conceptual milieu of Plotinian apophasis. I propose that it is ultimately the unique metaphysical status of the One that leads Plotinus to make such radical negations. In order to understand how the demand for apophasis with respect to the One is initially generated, I present the basic structure of dependence in Plotinus’s view of reality, discussing two key metaphysical conceptualities: first, the notion of participation understood as non-reciprocal likeness and dependence; and second, a constituent ontology, according to which an entity is dependent upon and thus explained by its constituent parts. Given Plotinus’s explanatory framework and its demands, the conclusion is that only what is absolutely simple can be absolutely independent, so as to function explanatorily as that which ultimately accounts for everything else: The One. A further implication is that that which ultimately accounts for everything else—i.e., the One—will also be “outside” of or beyond being. In the next section, I explain that the need to say something about the One derives from the explanatory role that it must play as the source and ground of everything else. I conclude by suggesting that Plotinus’s statements concerning the One are context-sensitive and have more than one functional role to play in his thought.

In section 1.4, I pick up the theme of the concluding suggestion in the previous paragraph, sketching the ways in which the project of metaphysical explanation—as a subset of rational discourse about the One—serves the ultimate goal of the preparing the soul for union with the One. Presenting the broader context enables us to do two things. First, we see that Plotinus’s philosophical project of metaphysical explanation, while an end in itself, also serves the ultimate goal of mystical union. Second, we see the way in which Plotinus’s statements concerning the One can function with a view to explanation as well as with a view to motivating his audience to pursue union with the One. I conclude the first chapter by explaining why Plotinus believes that it is necessary for the soul to move beyond rational discourse, reasoned knowledge, and noetic awareness: for the soul to be involved in rational discourse, reasoned knowledge, and noetic awareness is for the soul to be in an epistemic and ontological condition of multiplicity. In order for the soul to become united to the One, it must transcend that condition of multiplicity, by becoming like unto the One—i.e., it must become more simple.

The bulk of chapter 2 is devoted to an analysis of various types of representative statements concerning the One. The aim of the analysis is not only to properly understand Plotinus’s statements about the One, but also to show the various ways in which Plotinus would have the reader understand his statements and hence his conception of the One in exclusively negative terms. In the first section, I examine the inherent limitations of discourse and knowledge with respect to the One. I examine in some detail a passage in which Plotinus suggests that even negative discourse is finally inadequate to representing the One: indeed, that the very structure of discourse itself disqualifies it from reflecting the simplicity of the One. Plotinus presents another kind of analysis, which exhibits the inherent limitations of knowledge with respect to the One. In section 2.2, I discuss the basic structure of Plotinus’s view of knowledge based on the eternal Forms, and the implications of that view where the One is at issue. Heuristically deploying the concepts of extension and intension, the basic purpose of the analysis is to show the epistemic and semantic consequences of that appropriation. I indicate a few of the problems raised by Plotinus’s adoption of the Platonic conceptuality of participation. I suggest that perhaps statements that appear to predicate some attribute of the One ought to be understood in terms of an identity statement in which the predicate functions like a name: for example, “the One is the ultimate source and principle of the instantiated property fx.” Even if this is the case, there remains the question of how one ought to understand the notions of principle and source.

I proceed in section 2.3 to examine the difficulties of naming the One, taking as representative cases, the designations Plotinus seems most often to use: “the Good” and “the One.” At issue, again, are the extension and intension of the name “the Good.” I offer the two following conclusions about the name “the Good.” First, by “the Good,” Plotinus would have his audience understand that the Good is the ultimate source and cause of goodness in entities. Second, as odd as it may appear at that point in the analysis, Plotinus believes that it is less appropriate to think and speak of the Good in ways which are relative to any of its products than to attempt to think and speak the Good itself. I conclude the explication of the name “the Good” by observing the way in which that name finally resolves into a negative expression with little or no content: “that which neither needs nor depends on anything whatsoever.” I bring section 2.3 to a close by examining the name “the One,” exhibiting in a perhaps more explicit manner the way in which that name ultimately resolves into a negation: namely, a negation of complexity and/or multiplicity.

I take the opportunity in section 2.4 to step back a bit, and examine somewhat schematically Plotinus’s apophatic strategies in the context of explanation: apophasis or negation/denial; aphairesis or subtraction/abstraction; locutions featuring the term “hyper”; locutions featuring the term “epekeina”; and silence. This discussion serves to introduce to the reader two key strategies that are necessary to help understand what makes Plotinian apophasis so extreme (the content of chapter 3): practices of apophasis and aphairesis. In sections 2.5 and 2.6, I address a couple of questions surrounding the family of statements that have sometimes been construed to function apophatically through the use of paradox. Although Plotinus does make statements that have the grammatical form “the One is P and not P”—and therefore may prima facie have the appearance of paradox—I contend that such statements are more accurately rendered by recourse to his metaphysical convictions. Section 2.6 presents reasons in support of the view that Plotinus’s conception of the simplicity of the One ought not to be understood in terms of eminence or virtuality.

In sections 3.1 and 3.2 of chapter 3, we reach what I believe to be the heart of Plotinian negative theology. Here I argue that what finally makes Plotinian apophasis with respect to the One so radical and extreme is Plotinus’s conviction concerning the absolute independence of the One. Although the One is in fact the origin of all things, there is a sense in which it is not their origin. Part of the task of the analysis of Plotinus’s discussion of the free will of the One is to show that his emphasis on the absolute independence of the One implies that the One does not have to produce anything at all; second, the One is completely unrelated to anything, because it is what it is “before” them.27 In section 3.2, I discuss Plotinus’s rationales for conceptualizing the One as solitary and utterly unrelated to anything. From the perspective of explanation, the absolutely simple, independent, and unique reality of the One is such as to demand conceptualizing it as alone and unrelated to anything else. Only in this way, Plotinus believes, can one truly recognize, acknowledge, and appreciate the incomparable reality of the One. It turns out, however, that anything one can think or say at all pertains to what is posterior to the One. This is why Plotinus emphasizes the need to “take away everything!” This raises two questions: If what Plotinus says here is the case, then what do our thoughts and words refer to when we speak or think about the One? What does conceptualization of the One amount to, if we take away everything?

In section 3.3, I respond to the first question by examining the way that Plotinus takes mystical union to authorize speech concerning the One. I frame the discussion by roughly and heuristically deploying two philosophical conceptualities: first, the distinction between discourse de dicto and discourse de re; second, Bertrand Russell’s distinction between knowledge by description and knowledge by acquaintance. The conclusion I claim Plotinus would have us draw is this: mystical acquaintance with the One is what allows one to speak de re about the One. In section 3.4, I examine the cognitive and trans-cognitive functions of negation in preparing the soul for union with the One. I propose that the injunction to “take away everything” functions to transpose the soul from the order of discourse to that of noetic, intellectual, contemplation at the level of Nous, and finally to that of union with the One. What is finally required is the cessation of noetic activity on the part of the soul, by taking away everything and negating negation. But is it consistent to advocate a negation of negation, since it looks like doing so involves the kind of noetic activity that needs to cease in order for union to occur? I identify a passage supporting the view that taking away everything and negating the negation ultimately does not involve another noetic act. Rather, “taking away everything” and negating negation at this level takes the form of letting go of everything. In section 3.5, I close chapter 3, and Part One, by offering a few concluding remarks on Plotinian apophasis.

Because apophasis is best and more concretely understood as an essential component of Dionysian theological practice, I begin by sketching Dionysius’s understanding of the nature, function, and practice of theology in section 4.1 of chapter 4. I explicate what Dionysius calls the “dual aspects” of theology: the exoteric, philosophical dimension; and the esoteric, mystagogical dimension. Although Dionysius views both dimensions as necessary components of a theology that involves anagogy—i.e., the uplifting of the soul towards God—it is the ultimate task of mystagogy to enact union with God by situating the soul in the presence of God. I explicate the kinds of views that Dionysius opposes. This brings out the importance Dionysius attaches to an accurate understanding of God’s reality as beyond being, his contention that people who hold such views are unfit and unprepared for mystagogical initiation, and his conviction that “outside” assistance is necessary not only throughout the process of mystagogy, but especially at its culmination: union with God. Sections 4.2 and 4.3 present the way in which the rationales and roles of negation are contextualized by theological practice understood in terms of symbology and anagogy. Symbology is the discursive practice of properly employing, interpreting, and understanding the symbols of God for the sake of the soul’s being uplifted to union with God. The practice of properly rendering biblical symbols of God also functions doxologically as a way of praising God. Dionysius’s understanding of God’s reality as beyond being requires the use of negation with respect to interpretation and doxology. I also describe theological practice as anagogy with a view to union with God: negation enables the soul to cease from transacting with beings, dis-orienting it away from beings, and re-orienting it towards God.

Chapter 5 deals with two, important preparatory issues: the isomorphism between Dionysius’s texts and metaphysics; and the question of Proclus’s influence on Dionysius. Section 5.1 clarifies Dionysius’s understanding of a biblical symbol. The conclusion Dionysius would have us draw is that using a created entity to symbolize something about God requires both the user and the interpreter to acknowledge that all such entities are related to God as their source and cause. For Dionysius, symbology has a kind of negative or apophatic function, insofar as symbols can both reveal and conceal. I show how the metaphysical dynamic and hierarchical structure of all reality are mirrored in Dionysius’s texts: The Theological Representations; The Divine Names; The Symbolic Theology; and The Mystical Theology.28 According to Dionysius, the first three texts can be taken as one extended argument of affirmative theology that explicates the various biblical names, symbols, concepts, and attributes of God. The argument of The Mystical Theology reflects the way(s) in which all created things return to God. Because the soul is moving towards the transcendent God, the relatively increasing proximity to God implies the increasing inadequacy of language and concepts. For human souls desiring union with God, the return to God involves a corresponding reversal of the affirmations previously made, by means of negation and denial. The implication is that God’s reality as beyond being governs in specific ways the role of negation with respect to both properly interpreting symbols of God and the soul’s anagogical ascent.

Section 5.2 addresses the crucial hermeneutical question of Proclus’s influence on Pseudo-Dionysius. I acknowledge Proclus’s influence on Dionysius, even as I also acknowledge the difficulties of determining the precise nature, location, and degree of that influence. The approach I take is to work more concretely from the ways in which Dionysius actually uses the conceptualities he adopts from Proclus. Because of some of the ramifications of Dionysius’s appropriation of certain Proclean conceptualities, however, I offer a few, relevant remarks on Proclus’s understanding of the triad remaining/procession/reversion in the Appendix, taking statements in The Elements of Theology as representative of his view.

Chapter 6 examines negation in the context of explicating the names of God, focusing on The Divine Names. In section 6.1, I begin by acknowledging the seeming aporia of explicating the names of God in light of God’s transcendent reality. The question is: what is it about God that not only allows us to speak about God, but also requires such speech to be qualified by means of negation? Section 6.2 develops Dionysius’s response to this question, by examining divine causation as the basis on which God is initially understood. Taking the conceptual name “Beauty” as an example, I show that God is named “Beauty” because God is the ultimate cause of the constituent property of beauty in some particular entity. In effect, Dionysius holds a view of participation much like that of Proclus, in terms of non-reciprocal likeness and dependence. The upshot is that God is unlike the property God bestows and thus remains finally incomprehensible.

Section 6.3 goes into further detail concerning Dionysius’s conception of divine causation, examining Dionysius’s view that divine causation operates not only as a kind of formal cause, but also as a kind of efficient or productive cause. Since God is the sole cause of everything besides Godself, everything else must be explained and understood on the basis of divine causation. Given Dionysius’s view that God is the sole cause of everything produced, how does God create a multiplicity and diversity of things so as to be named accordingly? I first show that, at least with respect to being/existence and essential natures, God’s causation is direct with respect to created entities. Dionysius’s view of the non-reciprocal relations between divine cause and created effect, as well as the need to preserve divine simplicity, lead him to reject an Aristotelian conception of efficient causation. Dionysius’s solution is to accept the idea that a cause cannot be utterly devoid of what it produces, but neither must it actually possess what it produces or gives. I suggest that it is this solution that gives Dionysius’s view of God its distinctive character, and bears not only on the God–world relation, but also upon the rationale and character of negation with regard to the divine names. I conclude section 6.3, by introducing the concept Dionysius ultimately appeals to in order to explain God’s ability to produce what God does not actually have: divine superabundance.

Section 6.4 examines the connection between divine causation understood in terms of superabundance and the semantics of negation. The point of the analysis is to exhibit the way in which the typical, creaturely semantics of negation is inadequate when applied to God. Although the precise nature of divine superabundance remains unclear, because it bears on Dionysian theology, I attempt to conceptualize divine superabundance against that which is not superabundant—i.e., the created order. God is or has a hyperbolic excess of whatever resources and means are necessary to create all things. Therefore, anything attributed to God must, even when understood in terms of divine causation, acknowledge the superabundant and hyperbolically excessive character of God’s reality. The important implication of Dionysius’s conception of superabundance is that God remains incomprehensible and ineffable with respect to human beings. In section 6.5, I take the opportunity to discuss very briefly Dionysius’s view of the connection between divine superabundance and divine eros, and in so doing, use the discussion to segue more explicitly into the ramifications of Dionysius’s appropriation of a key, Proclean metaphysical conceptuality.

Section 6.6 contains an analysis of the ramifications of Dionysius’s appropriation of Proclus’s triad: remaining/procession/reversion. Generally, Dionysius employs this triadic pattern to describe the relationship between creatures and God: all things flow forth from God, revert to God, even as they remain “in” God. In order to show the ways in which this appropriation impacts Dionysius’s negative theology, I discuss the ramifications in regard to three, theological loci: the God–world relation and the doctrine of creation; the incarnation; and the Trinity. Subsection 6.6.1 shows how the non-reciprocal relationship between God and creatures implies that the created order is not identical to God. Since, for Dionysius, God is knowable only by way of divine processions, which are also modes of divine self-revelation, God is knowable only on the basis of divine processions and reversions, and then, only on the basis of non-reciprocal relatedness. Subsection 6.6.2 examines the way in which Dionysius’s adoption of the Proclean conceptuality bears on his understanding of the incarnation. I conclude that assertions affirming the humanity of Jesus Christ have to be negatively rendered so as to de-orient one’s understanding away from Jesus’s humanity and particularity, and then re-orient one’s understanding to his transcendent divinity. Subsection 6.6.3 presents an analysis of the way in which Dionysius’s appropriation may give reason to suppose that a “deeper” apophasis is called for: not between God and the world, but between the persons of the Trinity and an undifferentiated divine ground. I acknowledge a few of the difficulties involved in teasing out this line of Dionysian thought, so that the analysis is predominantly speculative and thus must be tentative.

Chapter 7 focuses on Dionysius’s negative strategies with a view to the soul’s union with God, as presented primarily in The Mystical Theology. I begin by contextualizing such strategies: cognitive acts of negation for the sake of mystical union presuppose not only mystagogical initiation, but also a great deal of philosophical and theological understanding of the kind exemplified in The Divine Names. Section 7.1 explicates the content and apophatic function of Dionysius’s opening prayer to the Trinity. On the one hand, such imagery reflects not only the soul’s epistemic/noetic relationship to God, but also the way in which God’s hyperbolic reality affects that relationship. On the other hand, the contemplation of such imagery presumably enacts a kind of cognitive disorientation, which disengages the person from relating to sensible or intelligible objects. In section 7.2, I examine Dionysius’s statements in The Mystical Theology which further clarify the relationship between affirmations and negations, in light of divine causation. What Dionysius does here that he does not in The Divine Names is explicitly state that the relationship between affirmations and negations is not oppositional.

Section 7.3 contains an analysis of Dionysius’s conception of aphairesis, and its contribution to the process of anagogy: the denial of all beings is a necessary condition for mystical union, particularly because it enables the soul to be de-oriented away from beings and re-oriented towards God. I contend that the denial of all beings ought not to be understood abstractly: as a negative propositional attitude with respect to an abstract object. Instead, Dionysius’s understanding of aphairesis is—in the context of anagogy—much more concrete and complex, and must be understood as functioning according to the metaphysical structure and dynamic of reality, which establish the parameters for both assertion and denial. In section 7.4, I examine Dionysius’s clarifications concerning the ordered denial of aphairesis. I conclude by explicating the way in which aphairesis is methodologically dependent upon the practice of assertion in kataphatic theology, and therefore, dependent upon the fact that God is the causal source of everything else. Section 7.5 rehearses the practice of aphairesis with Dionysius, by expounding on representative statements in the final two chapters of The Mystical Theology that exhibit the complexity of aphairesis by showing how the stated denials presuppose both the metaphysical and semantic considerations and conclusions previously drawn.

Section 7.6 takes up the limitations of aphairesis and the significance of Dionysius’s use of the concept hyper. I conclude that while the denial of all beings is sufficient to distinguish God’s transcendent reality from everything else, it does not reflect divine superabundance. It is this limitation, I contend, that in part leads Dionysius to employ the term “hyper,” which conveys the “beyond beingly” mode of God’s transcendence, functions to re-orient the soul away from any and every entity that would otherwise serve as on object of assertion or denial, and serves to remind the person that his or her own cognitive effort by means of aphairesis is inadequate to attain mystical union: divine assistance is perhaps most needed at the penultimate level preceding actual union with God. Section 7.7 concludes the substantive portion of chapter 7 with an examination of the connection between hyper and the ecstasy of mystical union: hyper suggestively speaks of the ecstatic condition of the soul while united to God. Finally, section 7.8 offers concluding remarks on Dionysian apophatic theology and several points of contrast with Plotinian apophasis.

1. A note about terminology: In the broadest sense, I use “apophasis,” “apophatic theology,” and “negative theology” more or less synonymously. My rationale is primarily one of convenience: I would like to avoid the overuse of neologisms. Clearly, in Plotinus’s case, although he does use the term “theos” in various contexts, it would perhaps be more precise to speak of an apophatic or negative “henology” where the One is at issue. While it may be more precise to use the term “apophasis” to specifically denote the discursive practice of negation, I use the terms above to denote the discursive, cognitive, and trans-cognitive practices of negation and denial where the One (Plotinus) or God (Dionysius) is concerned.

2. For the sake of clarity, with very few exceptions, I do not use the term “metaphysics,” or any of its grammatical derivatives, with the pejorative connotation that seems to be ascribed to it by those who accept Heidegger’s critique of metaphysics. Rather, without broaching questions, for example, of Aristotle’s reflections on the study of metaphysics, I use the term generically in a way that I believe would be appropriate to the conceptual “world” of philosophically-minded thinkers in late antiquity, such as Plotinus and Dionysius: that is, with respect to claims purporting to state something or other about the nature, character, and/or features of reality.

3. In the context of this project, I am attempting to avoid questions raised by current scholarship concerning “mysticism” and “mystical experience.” For this reason, with a few exceptions, I generally avoid using the locutions “mystical experience” and “mysticism,” choosing instead to speak of “mystical union” for the way in which Plotinus and Dionysius each describe the soul’s ascent to and union with the One (Plotinus)/God (Dionysius). I retain the adjective “mystical” in “mystical union” in order to indicate the character of mystery that seems to be a constitutive feature of such union.

4. See Derrida, “Différance” in MARGINS of Philosophy, 6 and 1. Derrida originally delivered this essay before the Société francaise de philosophie, on January 27, 1968.

5. See Marion, The Idol and Distance. Originally published as L’idole et la distance in Paris in 1977 by Editions Bernard Grasset. See also Marion, God Without Being. Originally published as Dieu sans l’être: Hors-texte, © Librairie Arthème Fayard, 1982.

6. In the final section of the text, Marion explores the possibility that his retrieval of the notion of distance (diastasis) enables us to think God and divine revelation in a non-idolatrous manner (roughly, where idolatry would involve (a) treating God as less than God, and (2) treating something that is not God as if it were God). More specifically, Marion explicitly contrasts his understanding of distance with Heidegger’s conception of ontological difference, Levinas’s conception of the Other/alterity, and Derrida’s conception of différance. Somewhat less explicitly, Marion also seems to conceptualize distance in view of Hegel’s conception of difference. See Marion, The Idol and Distance. On the latter issue, see Professor Cyril O’Regan’s especially illuminating essay, “Jean-Luc Marion: Crossing Hegel” in Counter-Experiences (O’Regan, “Jean-Luc Marion,” 95–150). Professor O’Regan’s essay was originally entitled “Marion Crossing Hegel,” and was initially delivered at a University of Notre Dame conference entitled, “In Excess: Jean-Luc Marion and the Horizon of Modern Theology”, May 9–11, 2004.

7. See Derrida, “How to Avoid Speaking,” 73–142.

8. The papers delivered in that conference have been compiled and published under the title God, the Gift, and Postmodernism. See Caputo and Scanlon, God, the Gift, and Postmodernism. In part, the “revival” of interest in apophasis and negative theology is also due to the recent, ongoing translation of Marion’s texts into English. Hence, the recent rise of interest I speak of has both Anglophone and Francophone components. In both cases, questions are raised concerning not only apophasis and negative theology, but also what has been called the “theological turn” in French phenomenology. With respect to the latter issue, see Phenomenology and the “Theological Turn.” See Dominique Janicaud et al., Phenomenology.

9. See Marion, In Excess. The last chapter of In Excess—entitled “In the Name: How to Avoid Speaking of It”—is a revised version of the paper that Marion delivered at the Villanova conference in 1997, entitled, “In the Name: How to Avoid Speaking of ‘Negative Theology.’” For the latter, see Marion, “In the Name: How to Avoid Speaking of ‘Negative Theology,’” 20–52. Notice too that I now speak of apophatic and mystical theology in reference to both Dionysius and Marion. In both versions of the essay cited, Marion’s interpretation of Dionysius distinguishes between negative/apophatic theology and mystical theology, with the former being inscribed within discourse subject to analysis/evaluation by the conditions of truth, and the latter being primarily pragmatic in function in which language is used to praise God (and in that way, is not subject to a propositional and truth-functional analysis/evaluation). Given previous statements, Marion’s interpretation of the pragmatic function of the language of doxology in Dionysius seems to owe more to Wittgenstein’s conception of language games than to, say, Austin’s speech-act theory. This is not to say, however, that Marion’s broader conception of the pragmatic function of language has no conceptual precedents in speech-act theory. In the latter regard, see Marion’s essay, “The Unspoken: Apophasis and the Discourse of Love.” See Marion, “The Unspoken,” 39–56.

10. Although with much less frequency, explicitness, and conspicuousness, Derrida and Marion do make occasional reference to Plotinus. For two references in Derrida, see: (1) Derrida, Speech and Phenomena, 127, note 14. (2) Derrida, “Post-Scriptum,” 309. For Marion, see: (3) Marion, The Idol and Distance, 10 and 16. (4) Marion, Being Given,” 210.

11. See Marion, The Idol and Distance, 139–95.

12. Methodologically speaking, Marion has not explicitly “defended” Dionysian theology against Heidegger’s onto-theo-logical critique in precisely the same manner that he has done so with Aquinas. Merold Westphal has also recently presented a kind of defense of Aquinas in light of Heidegger’s critique, in which he (Westphal) speaks to several aspects of Marion’s “defense.” See respectively: (1) Marion, “Thomas Aquinas,” 38–74. (2) Westphal, “Aquinas,” 173–91.

13. On a formal, structural level, Marion describes saturated phenomena in roughly both Kantian and Husserlian terms. See the following texts. (1) Marion, “The Saturated Phenomenon,” 103–24. (2) Marion, Being Given. (3) Marion, In Excess.

14. For Kant, see: Kant, Critique of Pure Reason, trans. Kemp Smith, 102–19. For Marion, see: (1) Marion, “The Saturated Phenomenon,”103–24. (2) Jean-Luc Marion. Being Given.

15. See Marion, Being Given, 234–47.

16. See The Mystical Theology in Pseudo-Dionysius. Pseudo-Dionysius, Pseudo-Dionysius: The Complete Works, 135. See chapter 4 footnote concerning subsequent references to Dionysius’s texts.

17. Furthermore, might it be the case that Marion’s retrieval of Dionysius’s understanding of this one aspect of mystical union influenced the very notion of a saturated phenomenon?

18. I am not claiming that one can definitively conclude to the specific priorities in the orders of dependence and explanation I mention here: Does Dionysius’s conception of the state of mystical union owe to a “prior” conception of God’s reality as excessively hyper-ontological, or the converse? Even if determining the order of dependence and explanation proves elusive, it may be sufficient to demonstrate that there is an inextricable connection between them in such a way that holding to one conception ineluctably commits one to the other. This issue is clearly beyond the limits of this project.

19. Although we will not do so, one could press the question of what it is that counts as “extreme.” One may wish to argue, for example, that extreme apophasis could be deployed in the service of skepticism or anti-realism of one sort or another.

20. The difficulty I note here is complicated by the fact that Marion—according to a statement that he had yet to actually write a theology (in a 2004 conference devoted to his work at the University of Notre Dame)—has yet to explicitly present in detail his phenomenological clarification and elucidation of the revelation of God in Jesus Christ in the context of a dogmatic, Christian theology (rather than say, in the context of his philosophical-phenomenological reflections).

21. Let me be clear about a couple of possible ramifications of my point here. I am not claiming that phenomenology is of no benefit, whether philosophically or theologically considered. On the contrary, I hold to the view that phenomenology is a beneficial philosophical and theological tool of analysis. However, I do question the possible limitations that a strictly phenomenological methodology might or would impose on any given apophasis and negative theology. Might it be that Barth is the wiser for eschewing the explicit deployment of what he takes to be any philosophical conceptuality—and the ramifications one would thereby be committed to—external to the theological boundaries established by and grounded in his view of divine revelation? Might it furthermore be the case that divine revelation, as Barth sees it, is not so easily susceptible and amenable to phenomenological analysis and clarification as Marion would have it? Like von Balthasar and Rahner, perhaps Marion’s Roman Catholic, theological commitments bear upon his view of the relationship between phenomenology and divine revelation, and between nature and grace.

22. See Plotinus, Enneads, trans. A. H. Armstrong, 7 vols.

23. For Plotinus, see Ennead I.6.9. Plotinus, Enneads, I.6.9: 259. For Dionysius, see The Mystical Theology. Pseudo-Dionysius, The Mystical Theology in Pseudo-Dionysius: The Complete Works, chapter 2, 1025A–1025B: 138. Although this commonality cannot be used—outside of further evidence—to show that Dionysius was somehow directly influenced by Plotinus, it can be used to identify the likely influence of Pythagorean philosophy upon both Plotinus and Dionysius.

24. In the case of Aquinas, rather than union with God, we may want to speak eschatologically of the beatific vision (or depending upon one’s understanding of Aquinas’s view of the consummation of creation and human being, perhaps of union and/or deification).

25. For examples of the genre, please see the following texts: The Mystical Element in Heidegger’s Thought, Forms of Transcendence, Indiscretion, and more recently, Martin Heidegger and Meister Eckhardt: A Path Towards Gelassenheit. Respectively: (1) Caputo, The Mystical Element. (2) Sikka, Forms of Transcendence. (3) Carlson, Indiscretion. (4) Dalle Pezze, Martin Heidegger.

26. Ennead V.3.17. Plotinus, Enneads, trans. Armstrong, Volume 5, 135.

27. Ennead VI.8.8. Plotinus, Enneads, trans. Armstrong, Volume 7, 251–53.

28. See Pseudo-Dionysius, Pseudo-Dionysius: The Complete Works.