Providence, Divine Causality, and the Gratuitousness of Love: A Thomist Perspective

Abstract

Broadly drawing on the writings of Thomas Aquinas, this article is a systematic-theological (rather than historical-theological) engagement with the theme of providence and divine causality. It aims to dispel some modern misunderstandings of these topics by highlighting how pre-modern approaches differ from today's perspective. It does so by arguing, firstly, that Thomas, given his teleological focus, construes divine causality not so much as efficient causality but rather in terms of final causality. I will also make the point that Thomas's calling God a ‘universal cause’ should not be construed in terms of omni-causality, as if God predetermines every event (be it necessarily or contingently). In the final part of this contribution, I make some observations on the arbitrariness of afflictions and the connection with the gratuitousness of charity within the providential ordering.

1. Introduction

Considering dramatic historical events of the previous century, it is perhaps not surprising that theology of the twentieth century engaged extensively with questions of providence, suffering, and evil.¹ These questions, of course, had already been discussed throughout the tradition from different perspectives.² Even though the term ‘providence’ only rarely occurs in the Bible, the notion that God accompanies and extends care over creation and his chosen people permeates the entire Scriptures. Similarly, questions of divine governance and how to square it with the existence of evil preoccupied philosophers of Antiquity, including Plato, the Stoa, and Neoplatonists. The Biblical and philosophical traditions, in all their variety, were absorbed and transformed in the patristic age by thinkers such as St John Chrysostom and St Augustine.

Those questions were also of concern to high-medieval thinkers, including Thomas Aquinas, who dealt with the topic most extensively in the third book of his Summa contra Gentiles. He also considered it a key theme in the Book of Job, on which he wrote an important Commentary. In accordance with the thought of Antiquity, as crystalised in Boethius's The Consolation of Philosophy, scholastic authors (such as in the Summa Halensis and Duns Scotus), when discussing providence, usually considered both theological and philosophical aspects, such as the relation between God's eternal will and foreknowledge, on the one hand, and creaturely freedom and contingency, on the other. Both perspectives can be found in Thomas's writings as well.³ Aside from addressing those philosophical issues in a sophisticated manner he explicitly raises the more theological question: if there is a good God, why then evil (both moral and natural)? How does the seeming arbitrariness of the way suffering strikes both virtuous and profoundly sinful people square with the belief in the divine ordering of creation?⁴ Thomas considered inadequate answers to these questions profoundly perilous to the Christian faith.⁵

In the Summa Theologiae Thomas explicitly treats of providence in I, q. 22 and divine governance in I, q. 103–104 (and following). If, however, we want to get a handle on Thomas's views on providence, it would be a mistake to consider only those passages where Thomas explicitly deals with the topic. His entire theology (incl. theology of creation, Christology and soteriology, pneumatology, sacramentology, and eschatology) is an attempt to penetrate deeper into the mystery of divine care and ordering of the world. Obviously, I will not be able to do justice to all these facets in this contribution.

While it may appear that Thomas at times raises similar questions to ours, we should remember that his perspective is fundamentally different from our own, which is why his views can both challenge and enrich ours. More specifically, a worldview, like our (post-)modern one, that is decidedly more immanent or diesseitig in orientation than the premodern one will construe the manifestation of divine providence and the operation of divine governance in the world differently. As I will explain, Thomas's perspective is more eschatological than today's one.⁶ I should like to signal from the outset that alerting the reader to Thomas's eschatological perspective should not be construed as a justification for present sufferings by appealing to the delights of the afterlife that would allegedly compensate for them. Theologians should not adopt this line of argument when confronted with the victims of major suffering – and I am not aware, incidentally, that Thomas ever takes such a compensatory line in his major theological syntheses.⁷ I am, however, interested in exploring how providence involves a movement, here and now, toward our future fulfilment in God.

To grasp how Thomas conceives of divine providence we need to unpack how he understands divine causality. One of the major obstacles to providing a plausible account of divine providence is our modern concept of causality, which reduces divine operation and causality to an all-embracing, efficient causality. If we understand divine providence and causality in those terms, then, in light of the immense afflictions that befall humans, the belief in God becomes more difficult to sustain. To give a concrete example, much-discussed by Enlightenment thinkers: Was the earthquake that struck Lisbon on All Saints in 1755 (killing tens of thousands of people) caused by God and/or part of the divine plan? If so, did it not render belief in divine providence untenable?

In what follows I will argue that Thomas construes divine causality in much richer terms than efficient causality (and even when he uses the term ‘efficient causality’ it does not have the mechanistic connotations our concept has); nor does his calling God ‘a universal cause’ imply that God predetermines every event (be it necessarily or contingently). Once we have clarified these points, we can begin to make sense (again) of divine providence.⁸ To explain and demonstrate these claims, I will proceed as follows. First, I will remind the reader of Thomas's teleological perspective, which is of immediate significance for the notion of providence. Secondly, I will consider in more detail how he construes divine causality. Thirdly, I will examine the scope of divine providence and governance. I will finish this contribution by making some observations on afflictions and the gratuitousness of charity.

2. Providence as Prudence: A Teleological Perspective

Thomas's metaphysical and ethical thought is deeply teleological (‘saturated with finality’, as Stephen J. Pope puts it).⁹ All things – not just human beings – have their telos or goal, which constitutes a participation in the divine good. A text from the ScG III, 24 [6] illustrates this:

Even things which lack knowledge can be made to work for an end, and to seek the good by a natural appetite, and to seek the divine likeness and their own perfection. And there is no difference between saying one of these things or the other. By the very fact (…) that they seek their good, they tend toward resemblance to the divine: every being resembles God in the measure of its goodness. And this or that particular good becomes an object of desire according as it is a likeness of the first good. So too, for this reason it tends to its own good, because it tends to the divine likeness, and not conversely. Hence, it is evident that all beings seek divine likeness as their ultimate end.

All things desire the good, and in pursuing and actualising their own specific good they are pursuing and participating in, no matter how imperfectly, the pure actuality that is God, and grow in divine likeness. In a remarkably strong statement, Thomas identifies these two aspects: ‘there is no difference between saying one of these things or the other’.

The fact that all things desire and pursue goodness has at least two important implications. First, on its own terms (without reference to the good) the pursuit of evil is utterly unintelligible. Even when we sin we are pursuing something good.¹⁰ The same applies, a fortiori, to God who is goodness itself: God cannot possibly want evil as such. Secondly, the teleological perspective has important implications as to how we should conceive of divine providence and its scope, that is, in terms of final rather than merely efficient causality. I will return to this in section 3 of this article.

The teleological dimension of Thomas's entire outlook also finds expression in the fact that Thomas understands providence primarily in terms of the virtue of prudence or practical wisdom.¹¹ It is the proper function of prudence to arrange things to an end.¹² This indicates that interpreting providence mainly in terms of efficient causality is misguided. Characterizing providence as prudence does not mean, however, that God's providence is merely theoretical or contemplative. Prudence, while an intellectual¹³ (as distinct from a moral) virtue, is concerned with right reason about things to be done.¹⁴ It is therefore a virtue of the practical, not the theoretical, intellect. Moreover, the plan that exists in the mind of God finds concrete expression in divine governance (gubernatio), and one cannot separate Thomas's discussion of providence from that of governance. In short, Thomas's God is not a mere spectator of the world and its history. The key question is then: how exactly are we to understand God's involvement?

3. The Relation Between God as Primary Cause and Secondary Causes

We cannot make sense of divine providence and governance as Thomas conceives of it—indeed we cannot begin to grasp the Thomist outlook in general—without an outline as to how he construes the relation between divine and creaturely causality. As I mentioned, one of the key problems that besets today's popular (mis)understandings of providence is the fact that we reduce causality by and large to efficient causality only. This reflects a mechanistic worldview that became prevalent in the modern era.

Following Aristotle, Thomas's notion of causality is more multifaceted than the modern one. As is well-known, he operates with a notion of four-fold causality. He does include efficient causality: the bricklayer is the efficient or agent cause in the building of a house, or Anton Bruckner in composing his Ninth Symphony. Thomas further identifies a material cause: as the word indicates, this may refer to matter (e.g., bricks and mortar) but should not be restricted to just ‘stuff’: rather, it extends to everything that can receive a form. Formal causality, in turn, refers to the presence of the form. If you build a house, you do so according to a plan, perhaps designed by an architect. That plan is the formal cause. Final causality, which is, as we have seen, of primary importance in Thomas's teleological worldview, refers to the goal or end as to why we act. We build a house to live in, to give us shelter from the elements.¹⁵ This is its function or end.¹⁶

Let us now examine the relation between divine causality and the operation of creatures. Thomas deals with this question in ST I, q. 105, a. 5, entitled whether God is active in every agent. Thomas first rejects the view that no created power effects anything in the world and that God does everything without intermediaries—a view he attributes to some Islamic scholars. Such a view leaves unexplained why creaturely causes have powers to act in the first place; more importantly, it abrogates from God as a cause so powerful that it is willing to share its power with creaturely causes.¹⁷ He then explains, by recalling the four causes, his central claim that God's acting in creatures must be understood in such a way that they themselves still exercise their own operations. Although God has created everything out of nothing he cannot be called a material cause – for matter implies receptivity (to form) and God is not passive or receptive. He continues by outlining the three other forms of causality by which God works in every cause, namely, final, efficient, and formal, and reminds us that final causality is the most important one.¹⁸ Given his teleological outlook, Thomas argues that God is directly or indirectly the final cause of every operation whatsoever: ‘For since every operation is for the sake of some good, real or apparent; and nothing is good either really or apparently, except in as far as it participates in a likeness to the supreme Good, which is God; it follows that God himself is the cause of every operation as its end’.¹⁹ Reiterating an insight he had already expressed in the Summa contra Gentiles, Thomas argues that in actualising their own potential, creatures begin to share in God's own actuality or perfection, each in their our own way, even when they do so unconsciously or without deliberation.²⁰ Human beings (and angels), unlike other creatures, are conscious of their goal. Insofar as we actualise our potential – by knowing and loving God – we too imitate the divine perfection.²¹

In terms of efficient causality Thomas (following Aristotle) explains that every mover is moved by another mover. All agents, therefore, act in dependence on God as the unmoved mover, who is pure actuality: ‘where there are several agents in order, the second always acts in virtue of the first; for the first agent moves the second to act. And thus all agents act in virtue of God himself: and therefore He is the cause of action in every agent’. This quotation illustrates that it would be wrong to interpret agent causality in mechanistic terms (the way one billiard ball moves another). Thomas means to convey that our power to act or change depends on other powers and that there is ultimately one power that makes this possible. Unlike in a mechanistic pattern, this higher power does not determine the outcome of the action as such (the way one billiard ball will determine the direction and the speed of another one) but it enables the action. This is a crucial difference. Thomas's God is not a (mildly incompetent) micro-manager of Universe Inc. God, as creator and providential carer, enables creatures to act but does not predetermine their actions. Finally, in terms of formal causality, God bestows forms upon things, making (or rather: ‘creating’) them into whatever they are.²²

In short, God's causality – efficient, formal and final – sustains all beings in their operation, bestows their form upon them and is the end of their operation. He imparts forms to things, upholds them in existence, applies them to their actions, and is the end of all actions.²³ God is therefore intimately present in everything we do and are. Thomas concludes:

And since the form of a thing is within the thing, and all the more, as it approaches nearer to the First and Universal Cause; and because in all things God himself is properly the cause of universal being which is innermost in all things; it follows that in all things God works intimately (sequitur quod Deus in omnibus intime operetur).

In short, God bestows being upon things but he allows creatures to perform their secondary causality. I cannot do anything without the creative act of God who continually bestows being or existence upon me and who sustains every move I make –but it remains my move. Creaturely and divine causality are not in competition with one another; it is not a zero-sum game because divine causality is the condition of possibility of creaturely causality. Divine causality is effectively operating at a transcendental level, which is why creaturely and divine actions are not in competition with one another, but divine causality supports creaturely operation. We should not claim (as objection 2 of the same article does) that if an action of a creature issues from God working in the creature (in creatura operante), as Thomas believes it does, it cannot at the same time issue from the creature itself, as if it does not act in its own right. Thomas clarifies that ‘the one action does not issue from two agents of the same level (una actio non procedit a duobus agentibus unius ordinis); there is, however, nothing against one and the same action's issuing from a primary and a secondary agent (a primo et secondo agente)’.²⁴ Thus, Thomas's account of the relation between divine and creaturely causality explicitly rules out a notion in which primary and secondary causality are competing with one another in a mutually exclusive manner. This is an important observation for the way we conceive of divine providence and governance.²⁵

4. The Scope of Divine Providence and the ‘Universality’ of Divine Causality

Aside from our ‘mechanistic’ leanings, a second and closely related issue that renders it difficult to make sense of providence is the popular assumption that God is the cause of everything that happens. True, Thomas explicitly calls God a ‘universal cause’ (as in ST I, q. 19, a. 6; and I, q. 22, a. 2 ad 1), which may appear to suggest that all events are both immediately caused and willed by God.²⁶ Or again, Thomas repeatedly says that everything that happens is subject to divine providence, as in ST I, q. 22, a. 3. This raises an immediate question: Can God therefore be said to want evil (be it moral or natural)? To return to our previous example: Did God cause the Lisbon earthquake and the ensuing loss of life?

One strategy would be to say that bad things, like earthquakes and even sinful acts, ‘just happen’. In a kind of kenotic move, God is said to make space for created things (such as tectonic plates or human beings), allowing them to exert their own activity.²⁷ Indeed, as we alluded to earlier, Thomas is known for affirming throughout his works that God's majesty is enhanced by his allowing creatures to have their own operation and causality.²⁸ Extending this line of reasoning, one could argue that divine providence restricts itself, so to speak, even if this implies the possibility of the occurrence of suffering and evil.²⁹ Again, admittedly, Thomas is happy to affirm that created beings have their own nature and given the mutually incompatible ends of creatures it is to be expected that corruption and evil ensue: the lion feeds at the expense of the deer. It would be contrary to the rational character of the divine regime to refuse permission for created things to act according to the mode of their nature. The created world, consisting of material and finite things that have an inherent orientation toward their own perfection, has its own integrity, which God respects and does not interfere with. Thomas gives the example of fire which, by its very nature, consumes things, and this may at times result in evil consequences (i.e., a house burns down).³⁰ Thomas drily concludes: ‘Therefore, it is not part of divine providence to exclude evil altogether from things’.

While Thomas does indeed affirm the integrity of creaturely causality, I suspect he would nonetheless be less than impressed with the kenotic aspect that is popular in modern theology. The reason for this has already been hinted at in the previous section: the kenotic approach presupposes that divine and creaturely activity are effectively in competition with one another (the zero-sum game). That is why, supposedly, God has ‘to make space’ for creaturely activity. But this is exactly what Thomas denies.³¹ Divine causality operates on a transcendental level and can achieve its goal through secondary, creaturely causes but it is not in competition with them. We therefore need a different approach. Let me make the following points.

4.1 Universal Causality is Not Omni-causality

First, while I have reservations about the kenotic approach, the claim that God is a universal cause should not be interpreted in terms of omni-causality (as if God directly brings about everything that happens in an irresistible manner).³² Admittedly, as we saw in the previous section, God bestows being upon all things and is the condition of possibility of their very existence and operation; and he can effect whatever he wills to happen either contingently or necessarily. But from these claims it does not follow that God either directly causes, or wills, every event or condition. This applies especially and most obviously to evil. While Thomas characterizes divine causality as ‘universal’ he emphatically states that God does not cause moral evil (sin). He makes it quite clear that moral evil is opposed to the fulfilment of the divine will and love.³³ In no way, therefore, can God (who wills his own goodness) be said to cause or will sin.³⁴ Moral evil (genocide, rape, murder,…) is neither caused nor wanted by God. It does, however, resort under divine providence, in the sense that the sinner will be subjected to divine justice.³⁵

The observation that not everything that happens (e.g., sin) is either wanted or caused by God is of pastoral significance. Most readers pondering the nature of providence will, however, probably consider natural evil to be the more pressing theological issue in our understanding of providence. After all, we normally attribute responsibility for sin to the choices we make as human beings and do not assign blame to God. We are, however, more inclined to attribute natural evil to God. I cannot deal here with the relation between divine causality and natural evil (disease, death,…) in any detail but will make some brief points.³⁶ First, natural evil, like any evil, is a privation or absence of goodness and can therefore as such not be directly willed by God. On the other hand (and readers may initially find this disturbing), Thomas does affirm that God is the indirect or accidental cause of natural evil, namely insofar as it serves a greater good.³⁷ I will return later to the nature of this ‘greater good’. For now, I would like to observe that the affirmation that God is the cause of (natural) evil is an immediate consequence of Thomas's metaphysical monism (and his rejection, as a Dominican, of Cathar dualism): evil does not find its origin in a second principle (i.e., an evil Demiurge) allegedly on the same level as the true God. It therefore has to find its origin in God himself– an arresting thought. Before we jump to hasty conclusions that this derogates from the goodness of God, we should remember, firstly, that, as I just mentioned, God does not directly will the privation that is natural evil but he wills it only accidentally or indirectly. As Thomas writes in ST I, q. 19, a. 9 ad 3: God neither wills evils to be nor wills evils not to be; he wills to allow them to happen (vult permittere mala fieri). Permitting evil (which is a privation) to occur, is different from causing something good or positive to occur. God is a force for the good, in which all things can share. The evil that occurs is negativity, which is not caused by God (in the case of sin), or only indirectly (natural evil). ‘Permitting evil’ in this context effectively means that God does not prevent an absence.³⁸ In other words: it means that God does not actively interfere in the operation of secondary causes (such as the friction of tectonic plates that lead to earthquakes). Secondly, Thomas's claim that natural evil finds its ultimate origin in the goodness of God is, paradoxically, a positive claim that implies an affirmation of the primacy of goodness. It suggests that evil is not on the same metaphysical level as goodness, but the former is always parasitic, so to speak, upon the latter. Indeed, because everything that God has made is good, evil (as the privation of goodness) can itself be a pointer towards goodness – the goodness that should be there but is absent, at least partly, in some instances. When Thomas therefore discusses the popular objection that the existence of evil precludes belief in a good, omnipotent God (‘If God exists whence comes evil?’) he writes: ‘But it could be argued to the contrary: “If evil exists, God exists.” For there would be no evil if the order of good were taken away, since its privation is evil. But this order would not exist if there were no God’.³⁹ Given that our philosophical diet is more phenomenological than metaphysical we can perhaps, as Kathleen McManus suggested, translate Thomas's provoking statement in terms of what Edward Schillebeeckx called ‘negative contrast experiences’.⁴⁰ Whenever we cry out, in the face of suffering, ‘This is not how it should be!’ our very revolt implicitly affirms the overall goodness of the world. Our revolt and indignation only make sense in light of an implicit affirmation of the thesis that goodness has generally overall primacy over evil in this world (even if not in every instance)– a thesis for which Thomas provides the metaphysical foundations.⁴¹

If it is correct that we should not entertain a notion of divine omni-causality (as if every event or condition in the world is predetermined and immediately caused by God) it follows that there are at least particular instances, such as sinful acts, in which the order of divine government can be resisted. I write ‘particular’ because even when we act against the divine order and will, we still fall under the scope of divine providence in a general sense: in sinning we still pursue a good (implicit orientation toward the universal good) and our sinful act remains, of course, dependent on God's sustaining power, which is part of providence. Moreover, sinful acts fall under divine providence generally insofar as they will elicit retribution for the sake of justice.⁴²

4.2 The Scope of Divine Providence

So far, I have argued that characterizing God as universal cause does not imply that God directly causes or wills every event or condition. Secondly, I should mention that Thomas considers evil to be less extensive than we generally do, and this has obviously implications for how we should construe the scope of divine providence.⁴³ If he had been familiar with the findings of evolutionary biology, Thomas would be less concerned – less sentimental perhaps – than most of us when confronted with the fact that its story is written in blood. In a finite, corporeal world it is inevitable and even desirable that things decay and die ‘for the good of the order of the universe’.⁴⁴Tellingly, even in prelapsarian paradise, Thomas claims, there would have been death and decay in the animal kingdom (excluding humans).⁴⁵

Thomas calls death and natural corruption defectus ⁴⁶ and does not, strictly speaking, consider them evil. Evil is not a mere absence of goodness as such but rather a privation, that is, an absence of goodness that should be there. It is, for instance, not an evil that pigs cannot fly. Similarly, it cannot be considered a privation that living things decay and die. Natural corruption of living things cannot be reasonably called either penalty (malum poena) or sin (malum culpae). In short, in Thomas's view, (the defects of) decay and death in creatures are natural and cannot therefore be considered an evil in the strict sense.⁴⁷ In light of the overall good of the world they are actually good, not evil.

4.3 Final Causality and the Eschatological Perspective

Thirdly, as mentioned earlier, we need to remember that providence and governance are primarily concerned with final causality. When Thomas calls God a universal cause it is essential, in order to avoid misinterpreting this in terms of omni-causality, that we keep in mind the nature of this end or goal of divine causality. This is decidedly not primarily the temporal well-being of human beings, or even of all creatures but, rather, the dwelling of rational creatures in the presence of God for all eternity. The fact that this eschatological perspective has faded from the popular imagination is, in my view, one of the reasons why people today find it difficult to make sense of the doctrine of divine providence.⁴⁸ Providence and governance are concerned with how God extends his care and governance to every one of us while guiding us toward salvation.⁴⁹ It is in this sense, I believe, that we need to construe the universal causality of God in relation to us: God makes sure that all things work for our ultimate good (which is to dwell in his presence for all eternity), rather than for any temporal goods per se. This ultimate good (God) is a good outside of this world.⁵⁰ This connection between the universality of providence and its eschatological orientation is explicated in his reply to an objection in question 22, a. 2 (‘Whether everything is subject to the providence of God?’). Objection 4 claims that God's providence is limited, for the Bible states that we are sometimes left to ourselves by God (quoting Ecclus. 15:14 and Ps 53:13). Thomas first explains that when it is said that God leaves us to ourselves, this does not mean that we are exempt from divine providence; but merely that we, as self-determining agents endowed with free will, are not subject to a prefixed operating force determined to only the one effect. He then continues:

But since the very act of free will is traced to God as to a cause, it necessarily follows that everything happening from the exercise of free will must be subject to divine providence. For human providence is included under the providence of God, as a particular under a universal cause. God, however, extends his providence over the just in a certain more excellent way than over the wicked; inasmuch as He prevents anything happening which would impede their final salvation. For ‘to them that love God, all things work together unto good’ (Romans 8:28). But from the fact that He does not restrain the wicked from the evil of sin, He is said to abandon them: not that He altogether withdraws his providence from them; otherwise they would return to nothingness, if they were not preserved in existence by his providence.

Providence extends to all (non-rational creatures, sinners, and the elect) in different degrees: from maintaining them into existence (within a framework of a good and orderly creation) to securing that, no matter what happens, the elect will attain their final salvation. Thomas's notion of providence is therefore hierarchical: parts of the universe are for the sake of the universe as such; but the good of the universe is, in turn, in function of its noblest parts, and these are the saints, whom God loves for their own sake and whom he draws into his own presence. As Thomas says when commenting on Rom. 8:28:

whatever happens to the noblest parts is ordained only to their good, because his [God's] care for them is for their sake, whereas his care for the others is for the sake of the noblest: as a physician allows a malady in the foot that he might cure the head. But the most excellent parts of the universe are God's saints (…) whatever happens to them or to other things, it all accrues to the benefit of the former.⁵¹

In short, we misunderstand ‘providence’ if we conceive it primarily in terms of the care that God is supposed to extend to things temporal in a pre-determinative manner. Again, this is not to deny that God creates and upholds all things in existence, bestows their form, grounds their operation, and draws them to him through the pursuit of their own perfection. But the aim of divine providence is not the temporal well-being of creatures, not even of humans. (Enlisting or, even worse, trying to manipulate God into supporting our own worldly plans, concerns and designs is a pagan exercise). The end of providence is, ultimately, God himself and our participation in him.⁵² This is why Thomas likes quoting Prov. 16:4 when discussing providence.⁵³

Thomas's views on prayer confirm the theocentric (and therefore eschatological) nature of providence. Prayer is an interesting topic for a number of reasons. First, philosophically, it raises the issue whether or not petitions by creatures can somehow impact God's eternal and immutable providence. Or again, does it make sense to pray if God has an eternal foreknowledge and immutable will about what will happen throughout the course of history? These are philosophical questions, and Thomas has dealt with them in a convincing manner.⁵⁴ For our purposes, the theological perspective is more relevant: can prayer (and what we should pray for) throw light on how Thomas conceives of divine providence?⁵⁵ Is it meaningful, for instance, to pray that the Irish team may win the Rugby World Cup? Or that one's business venture will prove successful? Or, less frivolously and more poignantly, that a loved one may be healed from terminal cancer? If the answer is an unequivocal ‘yes’ to these questions, the conclusion will follow that divine causality extends to all these matters, moving us toward an understanding of divine omni-causality. But I do not think this is Thomas's view.⁵⁶ While prayer is emphatically petitionary for Thomas, he explicitly states that temporal goods should only be sought for the sake of what we truly want, and that is God as our final goal.⁵⁷ Hence, what we should ask for in prayer is a life of blessedness (beata vita) and everything else we ask for should be desired in view of this (ordinantur). This other-worldly dimension of what we should pray for mirrors the eschatological nature of Thomas's understanding of providence.

Before I conclude this section, I want to make two further observations. Nothing I outlined so far should be interpreted as a justification of evil. The point is often made that you cannot always justify evil by appealing to the good that comes from it, and even less so, a sceptic might drily add, if this good is transcendent or otherworldly, as I argued it ultimately is for Thomas. In David Fergusson's words: ‘a resolution of evils does not necessarily constitute a justification for their origin’.⁵⁸ But we should note that Thomas is not engaged in the business of justifying evil (or God, for that matter). His main concern, as in the ScG III, 71, is the question whether evil is compatible with the affirmation of divine providence. He is not trying to argue that evil as such can be justified but rather that the occurrence of evil does not rule out a solid belief in providence. Clearly, the two issues are related but they are not identical. Thomas would regard a legitimation of evil a dubious project, if only because, without reference to goodness, evil is inherently unintelligible anyhow, for the philosophical reasons I outlined earlier.

Secondly, even if we grant that divine providence and causality should not be understood as predetermining every event (as mechanistic or efficient omni-causality); that God allows secondary causes to fail; and that he lets death and corruption occur, without directly causing them, for the sake of a greater good; one could still wonder: Could God not have created a world with less suffering and evil? Thomas addresses this question in ST I, q. 25, a. 6, where he effectively raises the question whether God could do a better job than he does. Could God have made our world better than it is? He initially responds by saying that this is impossible, for it then would no longer be our world (but a different one). When pushed on the issue, however, he does concede that ‘God could make other things or add something to the present creation; and then there would be another and better universe’.⁵⁹ Clearly, according to Thomas, we do not live in the best of all possible worlds. Significantly, he offers us no explanation as to why this is the case. This is both sobering and sound. It suggests that questions of suffering and evil ultimately point to the mystery of God himself and his gratuitous love. This brings me to the final section of this article.

5. Providence and the Gratuitousness of Suffering and Charity

So far, I have argued that divine causality, in Thomas's understanding, should not be primarily interpreted in terms of efficient causality, and even when he mentions efficient causality as one of the causes, he does not understand it in mechanistic terms. Similarly, the claim that God is a ‘universal cause’ does not mean that all events and conditions are caused by God. God does not want sin and even though he sustains the sinner in his sinful act God does not cause sin. Natural evil God is said to ‘permit’ (with the qualifications mentioned earlier) or even to cause, not directly, but for the sake of a greater good. This ‘greater good’, however, is ultimately eschatological and can never be equated with, or reduced to, this-worldly temporal affairs, no matter how much the former impacts (through the all-pervasive operation of grace in the world) on the latter. While divine providence extends to all things in this world, in varying degrees, its ultimate end is not of this world. That end is the salvation of the saints, called to dwell in the presence of God. They are the primary focus of God's gratuitous love: other things have been created and are loved by God for the sake of the elect who themselves are called to the fruition of God.⁶⁰

Even if we accept all of this, one might object that there still appears to remain an excessive arbitrariness in the way afflictions strike both good and bad. To mitigate this sheer randomness, one could argue that afflictions are in reality not undeserved or arbitrary, for all human beings share in (original) sin. The Augustinian distinction between malum poenae (natural evil, or evil suffered) and malum culpae (moral evil or evil done), insofar as it aims to capture exhaustively all instances of evil, implies that all afflictions are effectively penal, and therefore not arbitrary.

In my reading, Thomas qualifies this view considerably, not only by introducing the category of defectus, as we saw earlier, but also by proposing an alternative approach, which is partly at odds with it.⁶¹ For starters, Thomas suggests we should consider poenae or afflictions not so much as penal but rather as medicinal in character: not just to heal past sins but also to prevent future ones, or even as an inducement to some good. Thomas adds: ‘In this way a person is sometimes afflicted without any fault of his own, yet not without cause (punitur sine culpa, non tamen sine causa)’. These are charged words. Presumably, Thomas has the book of Job in mind, where the protagonist is being subjected to immeasurable suffering, even though he has led a righteous life.⁶² It should be clear that the claim that in some instances God inflicts poenae (afflictions or ‘punishments’) on those who are free from guilt effectively contradicts the first, more traditional view, which had proposed the exact opposite, namely that all suffering is because of sin. It suggests that Thomas was less than comfortable with the view that afflictions (suffering, death,…) are necessarily penal.⁶³ While stating that God may inflict afflictions either for medicinal reasons (i.e., to heal the effects of past sins or prevent future ones) or even as an inducement to some good, Thomas adds an important qualification:

It must, however, be observed that a medicine never removes a greater good in order to promote a lesser; thus the medicine of the body never blinds the eye, in order to heal a blister: yet sometimes it is harmful in lesser things that it may be helpful in things of greater consequence. And since spiritual goods are of the greatest consequence, while temporal goods are the least important, sometimes a person who is sinless at times suffers the loss of earthly goods (ideo quandoque punitur aliquis in temporalibus bonis absque culpa); this is the meaning of many of the hardships of life inflicted by God to humble and test us. But no one who has not sinned personally is ever punished by being deprived of spiritual goods, either in this life or the next, where punishments are not medicinal but the consequence of spiritual damnation.⁶⁴

This last sentence illustrates that Thomas considers afflictions, at least in this life, to be more medicinal than penal. Secondly, the quotation indicates that in God's providential care good people may at times suffer hardships and afflictions of a ‘temporal’ nature independently of sin (absque culpa); but they will never be deprived of spiritual goods. This confirms the eschatological nature of divine providence outlined earlier and the special care God extends to the elect.⁶⁵

In order to address the earlier objection that pointed to the seeming randomness built in the state of temporal affairs, in which God sends rain on the just and the unjust alike (Mt 5:45), and afflictions do not appear to be necessarily bound up with any sins we may have committed, we need to return to the earlier quotation from ST II-II, q. 108, a. 4. Thomas does not elaborate on the ‘cause’ for which innocent people might be afflicted with suffering, aside from suggesting in general terms that it may be to test us, or for the glory of God to be manifested. Following hints in Thomas's oeuvre elsewhere, we can say more specifically that afflictions can be a means of growing in conformity with Christ's Passion and may assist us in attaining the fruition of God. This is an important theme in Thomas's soteriology.⁶⁶ But even this idea, pastorally important as it undoubtedly is, should not be adduced as a proper ‘cause’ for random afflictions, lest we are in danger of legitimising suffering. The challenge is therefore: Can we both affirm the utter absurdity and arbitrariness of afflictions (and therefore avoid the trap of easy and irreverent legitimation of suffering of innocent people) and yet claim that they are somehow encompassed in the providence of God?⁶⁷

I believe Thomas's thought gives us sufficient resources to do so. In the Prologue of the Book of Job, Satan claims that Job's fear of the Lord is ‘not for nothing’ or in vain (numquid frustra in the Vulgate, Jb. 1:9). In other words, Satan alleges that Job's adherence to God is calculating and instrumentalist, that is, Job loves God because of the temporal goods he has gained from him.⁶⁸ Thomas obviously rejects this, commenting that Satan unjustly deprecates the deeds of Job as though he did them for the sake of earthly goods. He continues:

So it is clear that the good things which we do are not referred to earthly prosperity as a reward; otherwise, it would not be a perverse intention if someone were to serve God because of temporal prosperity. The contrary is likewise true. Temporal adversity is not the proper punishment of sins, and this question will be the theme dealt with in the entire book.⁶⁹

Thomas strongly resists the view that the randomness of temporal afflictions constitutes a sufficient refutation of the belief in providence.⁷⁰ On the contrary, we can argue ad mentem Thomae (although Thomas does not say this explicitly) that the seeming arbitrariness itself may be part of providence. The reason it is present may be that, in a material, finite world, it can safeguard a gratuitous, non-calculative response to God's love.⁷¹ This needs some unpacking.

God's love itself is totally gratuitous and not subject to any external considerations. Indeed, God's object of love is God himself.⁷² God loves created things, not in a responsive way but in a creative manner: things are good, beautiful and truthful because God loves them, and not the other way around.⁷³ God's love is, however, not undifferentiated. Considering what was said earlier about the special providential care God exerts for the sake of intelligent beings and the elect in particular, it will not surprise the reader to learn that God loves rational creatures (angels and humans) with a love of friendship (amor amicitiae) but other creatures only with a love of desire (amor concupiscientiae).⁷⁴ In love of friendship we love others for their sakes, in a gratuitous, non-calculating manner. In love of desire, in contrast, we love something (or someone) for the sake of a person (and that person can be somebody else or myself). Thus, Peter loves John for his own sake (love of friendship) but he loves wine with a love of desire, i.e., because it contributes to the happiness of either himself or another.⁷⁵

As is well-known, Thomas characterizes our love for God, or charity, in terms of friendship.⁷⁶ It, too, is therefore utterly gratuitous or non-instrumentalist: we are friends with God, not for the sake of any benefits that may accrue to us but simply because we love God in his own right – for himself.⁷⁷ In contrast to the other two theological virtues, namely faith and hope, by which we still aim to obtain something from God (namely, truth and assistance in obtaining happiness, respectively), only charity is utterly for its own sake: ‘Charity makes us adhere to God for his own sake (propter seipsum), binding the soul to God in the affection of love. Faith and hope make us adhere to God as the source whence other good things come our way’.⁷⁸

It should be clear, as the Book of Job illustrates, that the afflictions that befall us and that cannot be challenged or remedied,⁷⁹ in their very meaninglessness and arbitrariness, provide us with an opportunity to become schooled in a love for God that is non-calculating or disinterested, and utterly gratuitous – not unlike God's own love for his creation. Paradoxically as it may seem, arbitrary suffering, in its very randomness, is part of God's all-embracing providential care.