Early Byzantine Philosophy

From the 6th century onward, the Eastern Roman Empire transformed into a new political entity—Byzantium. During early Byzantine times, the traditions of ancient philosophy continued to be preserved, as evidenced by the work of one of the first genuinely Byzantine philosophers of the Emperor Justinian era, John Philoponus (also known as John the Grammarian, 6th century). Indeed, he is often referred to without qualification as the first Byzantine philosopher. The principal characteristic of his worldview, as is widely noted, is the revision of Aristotelian and Neoplatonic cosmology from a Christian perspective. A. I. Sidorov observes that the 6th century was a transitional period in the history of European philosophy, marked by the disappearance of pagan Neoplatonism, signifying the end of the long-standing coexistence of ancient and Christian philosophical thought.

Thus, we observe a general tendency towards the formation of Christian philosophy in the East through the Christianization of ancient philosophy, particularly Neoplatonism, as manifested in the works of both Pseudo-Dionysius and John Philoponus. It appears that these works represent opposing streams of this process. While theologian Peter the Iberian introduced philosophy into Christianity, John Philoponus, as a philosopher, incorporated Christianity into philosophy. He studied in Alexandria under the Neoplatonist philosopher Ammonius, a student of Proclus, the last major philosopher of antiquity associated with the Athenian Neoplatonic school. Initially, Philoponus wrote philosophical works in the form of commentaries on Aristotle’s writings, with Aristotle’s subsequent influence on Philoponus being quite evident in his approaches to various philosophical problems. It was only later that he turned to Christian critiques of Aristotelian and Proclean cosmological views. In 529, Philoponus published "On the Eternity of the World Against Proclus," followed by "Against Aristotle" on the same theme of the world's eternity, and finally, "On the Creation of the World," where he continued the work of Basil the Great.

Despite their common goal of creating a Christian worldview, the philosophical aspects of the works of Peter the Iberian and John Philoponus are quite distinct. In the "Areopagitica," Neoplatonism is present only as a framework for Christian doctrine, whereas John Philoponus develops a distinctly Christian philosophy, more accurately, a natural philosophy. H. I. Benovich highlights Philoponus's exceptionally philosophical approach in his polemics against Proclus. According to I. D. Rozhansky, the ancient notions of the world in Philoponus's works are dismantled not through external violence, but from within, using the means and methods of ancient science itself. With these general observations in mind, let us now examine the natural philosophical views of Philoponus in detail.

The central tenet of Christian natural philosophy, as is well known, is the notion of the world’s creation by God, which implies that the world, unlike God, has a beginning and exists after Him. This premise led to a fundamental worldview conflict between Christianity and ancient philosophy, particularly between the teachings of Aristotle and Proclus, who held that the world exists eternally and thus is co-eternal with God. Philoponus’s arguments are built on the assumption of this thesis and aim to prove the Christian doctrine of the creation of the world through a reductio ad absurdum approach. He writes in "On the Eternity of the World Against Proclus": "Having exposed all the contradictions that arise if we assume the cosmos is eternal, we shall, in turn, assert that it is not eternal."

Thus, Philoponus first shows the absurdities that arise from the belief in the eternity of the world. One of his objections is based on Aristotle’s position on the impossibility of actual infinity. If the cosmos were not created and time were infinite, then, for example, there would have been an infinite number of objects before Socrates, to which would be added the number of objects from Socrates to the present day, resulting in a number greater than infinity, which is impossible. Furthermore, with infinite time, an infinite number of people, horses, dogs, and other beings would have been born, allowing infinity to be doubled, tripled, or multiplied by any large number, which is also impossible, as "there cannot be a greater infinity, let alone one many times greater," according to Philoponus. Ultimately, this suggests that there could be infinities of different magnitudes.

Another objection Philoponus raises against Proclus is that the doctrine of the eternity of the world, and by extension the eternal Divine creation of things, denies the transition of God to the act of creation, contradicting the doctrine of God’s immutability on the grounds that His movement from potentiality to action produces a change in Him. Philoponus refutes this conclusion by arguing that, concerning God, there is no difference between potentiality and action. This distinction only applies to humans, who, possessing skill, must physically move to perform an action and thus find themselves in a different state than before. In contrast, God possesses a perfect ability that coincides with action and thus acts without becoming different. Philoponus asserts that God, the perfect Creator of all, who has the logoi of the things He creates, "creates all merely by willing it... [without] needing any [bodily] organ to bring all things into being. Therefore, He is in no way changed with respect to Himself, whether He creates or does not create." He also states that God’s actions occur outside time and thus are not associated with change.

Philoponus’s arguments are based on traditional orthodox views of God’s action as a free act of will, as indicated by his statement: "God does not need a [bodily] organ to bring things into being, but brings everything into being with one thought, whenever He wills." This means that God’s actions do not involve necessity, unlike the actions of natural bodies. For example, "the sun illuminates or fire warms as soon as they are present, by natural necessity." But God is above all necessity, so "there is no necessity for what is conceived by God to exist immediately with the thought [of Him]." Indeed, "a shipbuilder or carpenter may have the logoi [of construction] of a ship or house but not yet build them." Thus, from the eternal existence of the creative logoi in God, it does not follow that things (and the world) exist eternally. Their emergence requires the free will of God, guided by their good. Moreover, Philoponus does not consider God’s will to be a change since, whether manifesting or not manifesting it, God always has only one good in mind: "Whether He creates something or not, it is good. Thus, the Divine will is unified and simple and always the same and immutable, for He always desires good."

In his critique of Aristotle’s position on the eternity of the heavens and their eternal movement, Philoponus argues against Aristotle’s view that the heavens, consisting of the unchanging and divine fifth element, ether, are eternal and indestructible. Philoponus counters by asserting that the heavens consist not of the eternal and indestructible ether but of the transient element, fire. He argues that this fire does not consume the sublunary world because he believed that "natural (or heavenly) fire is more life-giving than destructive, meaning that fire is what we call inner heat." This view of fire was widespread in antiquity. Since the heavens consist of a transient element, they will be destroyed and replaced by a new heaven, as mentioned in the Book of Revelation. Additionally, celestial movement is not eternal; it has a beginning and end like any other movement. Philoponus also disputes the notion that celestial fire should move linearly upwards, as commonly believed in antiquity, instead of revolving around the center of the world. He supports his view by arguing that "neither the entire element nor a part of it, when in its natural place, moves linearly... For everything wishes to remain in its naturally assigned place, as if wishing to be preserved in it, and it requires force to move a body from its natural place." Furthermore, since celestial bodies move at different speeds, faster spheres would complete more rotations than slower ones, leading to an infinite number of differences in rotation speeds, which, according to Philoponus, is absurd.

Based on the absurd consequences of the thesis of the eternity of the world, Philoponus concludes: "If we assume that the cosmos is not created, we must acknowledge... many absurdities; thus, it is impossible for the cosmos to be uncreated and have no beginning."

Among Philoponus’s theological writings, one should highlight the theoretical and philosophical issues addressed in his Christology and Trinitarian theology. These, following the tradition of ecclesiastical writers, focus on the categories of "nature," "essence," "hypostasis," and "person." Consequently, Philoponus's Christology, in its actual content, can be viewed as a philosophical anthropology presented in categories applicable to both Christ, the incarnate God, and to humans, such as Peter and Paul. A distinctive feature, bearing what seems to be the mark of Christology, is the logical-epistemological question of the relationship between name and thing, specifically whether one name denotes one nature or two. This is discussed in Philoponus’s treatise "The Arbiter" (alternatively translated as "Judge," "Arbitrator," or "Mediator").

In his general theoretical framework on Christology and, by extension, anthropology, Philoponus formulates his approach as follows: "To determine what the Church's doctrine means by the word 'nature,' what it means by 'person' and 'hypostasis'" (Eret., p. 283). He then provides definitions of these terms. Philoponus identifies 'nature'—which is equivalent to the category of 'essence'—as "the general definition of the being of things that share the same essence" (Eret., p. 283). Concerning humans, this implies that "a human is a rational, mortal, living being, receptive to the intellect and knowledge, for no individual differs from another in this respect" (Eret., pp. 283-284). Philoponus attributes an epistemological meaning to nature, interpreting it in the spirit of Aristotle's "secondary substances," which are "contemplated after the multiplicity of individual existents and are subsequent... [that is] those which are found in our mind" (Eret., p. 283). Thus, nature as a general concept belongs to the realm of the "mental" (ta ennoeia), to those "mental concepts" (noemata) that we have about real things. This aligns with Philoponus' view that the general is only a concept, and as "independently existing... it is nothing" (Lurie, p. 220).

Hypostasis, otherwise referred to as 'person' or 'individual,' is described by Philoponus as "the independent existence of each nature or... a description consisting of certain characteristics by which objects of the same nature differ from one another" (Eret., p. 284). Thus, ontologically, hypostasis is a person, a distinct individual such as Peter or Paul, since only in them does the general nature of humanity, that is, the genus and species, achieve its real existence. V. M. Lurie notes that Philoponus' concept of 'hypostasis' returns to Aristotle's notion of 'primary substance,' which exists only in reality, outside our mind (Lurie, pp. 222-223). Logically, hypostasis is an individual (in Greek, atom), an indivisible subject, marking the endpoint of the division of general genera and species, more precisely, the last species. Thus, one of the final species of living beings is the human, which divides into indivisible individuals like Peter and Paul, since, as Philoponus concludes, "the division of a human into soul and body leads to the destruction of the entire living being" (Eret., p. 284).

A crucial aspect of the relationship between nature and hypostasis, as presented by Philoponus, is that in hypostasis individualization or "individuation" of the general nature occurs. He writes: "This general nature— for example, the nature of a human... existing in each of the individuals— becomes his own nature and is not shared with anyone else" (Eret., pp. 284-285). Another quote: "For the rational and mortal living being within me is not common to anyone else" (cf. Sidorov, p. 186). He explains this position by noting that when one person suffers, another may remain unaffected; when someone dies or is born, it is possible that no one else is dying or being born at that moment. Thus, nature has a general significance when considered in itself as not existing in any individual. However, when it exists in individuals, it acquires a particular significance corresponding to each individual (Eret., p. 285). From this, Philoponus derives an important conclusion: if "hypostasis is one, then nature must necessarily be one" (Eret., p. 290). According to him, "It is impossible for a particular nature to exist without its own hypostasis or a particular hypostasis to exist without its own nature. For in their subject, they form one" (Eret., pp. 290-291).

Philoponus places significant emphasis on the concept of nature, beginning with his assertion that Christ, and thus a human, has a complex nature. Christ represents a union of divine and human natures, while a human is a composite nature of soul and body (Eret., p. 277). Nevertheless, this complex nature is one or single: "If a single being is produced from the union of two [natures]... then... after the union, there is [only] one nature of our Lord Christ" (Eret., p. 275). Both Christ and a human, Philoponus notes, "will be one nature, understood under this name, but clearly complex, not simple" (Eret., p. 277).

Moreover, any object, including a human, may consist of many accidents, but this does not disrupt the unity of its nature. If natures are united, the being that results from their union, according to Philoponus, is not merely an accumulation of accidents but necessarily must be an essence or nature (Eret., p. 274).

Philoponus' position on the relation between name and nature can be expressed generally as follows: one name—one nature, as evidenced by his words: "A single name... cannot indicate a multitude... unless a single nature arises from their union" (Eret., p. 277). He illustrates this with the terms 'house' and 'choir': a house is not referred to as the stones and beams but as the result of their union, the realization of a single form; a choir is not a multitude of people but "the relation among all the singers, which is one" (Eret., pp. 276-277). Thus, a name is equivalent to the concept of the nature (essence) of a thing. This is clearly demonstrated in Philoponus' discussion of the sun, which he begins by noting that "the word 'sun' is identical to the expression 'nature of the sun' (or its 'essence')." He continues concisely: "For, if numerous differences in natural abilities are visible in the sun... its brightness and heat... three-dimensional measurement and spherical form, its circular motion... even in this case, there is no need to speak of multiple natures of the sun. For none of these aspects produces the nature of the sun by itself... But what is produced by the union of all that has been enumerated, being one and no more, is the nature (or essence) of the sun" (Eret., p. 280).

According to Philoponus, one name indeed signifies or expresses one or a single nature, essence. He writes: "For if there is no separate living being that would be the final product of the union of two natures, then the single name 'human' cannot [be] associated with the soul or the body, just as the name 'Christ' cannot be associated with the two—divinity and humanity of Christ, since there is no separate living being that arose from them" (Eret., p. 276).

Thus, although the general meaning of human nature is one, Philoponus writes, it becomes multiple as it exists in many subjects (i.e., individual humans), yet it is wholly present in each individual. To illustrate this judgment, Philoponus provides examples: the design of a ship, which, though one in the shipbuilder's mind, is then multiplied in many subjects; a teacher, who, being one in concept, is multiplied in students, existing fully in each; and a single seal on a ring, existing in many impressions. The preservation of the unity of nature when divided among individuals can be explained by Philoponus' distinction between "essence" as an idea and "essence" as existence (cf. Sidorov, p. 186). Consequently, the relationship between separately existing objects is characterized, according to Philoponus, by being, on the one hand, multiple and divided, and on the other hand, one and unified. Thus, many people, ships, concepts of students, impressions are multiple in number and divided; yet, in their general form, they are one. Philoponus concludes: "All this is, in one respect, multiple and divided, and in another respect, united and one" (Eret., p. 282). In this context, A. I. Sidorov notes that, for Philoponus, number serves as a principle of division, opposed by eidos (in other words, the general form) as a principle of unity (Sidorov, p. 182). Number divides things actually in the case of discrete (countable) quantities (e.g., two beams) and potentially in the case of continuous (measurable) quantities (e.g., one beam of two cubits in length).

In addition to this categorical aspect of Philoponus' anthropology, another crucial issue of Christian teaching on humanity—the religious-utopian idea of the resurrection of the dead—is presented. The main question concerns what the resurrected body represents—since the soul does not die—because without it, one cannot speak of the resurrection of the person. In philosophy, V. M. Lurie writes, this raises the question of the identity of the resurrected body with the deceased body. Various opinions and interpretations have been proposed. As Lurie notes, the Christian teaching on the separation and then reunion of body and soul has presented numerous problems for those trying to reinterpret it within the traditions of Greek philosophy (Lurie, Id., p. 307). Philoponus also contributed to resolving these issues.

He justified the immortality of the human soul, whose cause is unknown, for knowing it is a matter of reasoning (Eret., p. 295), by arguing that the soul of a human, unlike the soul of animals, does not begin to exist with the bodily harmony but is introduced from outside after the body is formed (sunthesis). This fact, he believes, is the main evidence that the soul has an essence different from the body. For God breathed the soul into the body of man, making it spirit (pneuma), incorporeal, invisible (Ant., p. 59). The introduction of the soul into the body from outside at the creation of the first human is then reproduced in all subsequent natural births. Philoponus writes: "When human embryos receive sensitive and moving life, then the rational soul is also introduced into them" (Ant., p. 60). He refers to the opinion of natural philosophers (phusikoi) that the fetus in the womb has plant life and is not a living being before its formation into a living and animated being (Ant., p. 59). He also appeals to the authority of the prophet, who teaches that the introduction (eisphysis) of the soul occurs after the formation of the embryo (Ant., p. 62). According to the Old Testament, the soul is introduced into the embryo on the fortieth day (cf. Lurie, Id., p. 309).

Categorically, Philoponus expresses the position on the immortality of the human soul through the interpretation of Aristotle's concept of entelechy. The soul of animals is entelechy, inseparable from the body, like music from a flute: when the flute is destroyed, the music disappears. The soul of a human is entelechy, separable from the body, like a helmsman from a ship or a charioteer from a chariot. Philoponus indicates that they shape or determine (diatithemai) the ship or chariot. So too is the soul of a human (Ant., p. 60).

Philoponus believed that at the resurrection, the matter of the body would change and become different, thus making the body incorruptible. The resurrection of Christ itself is a sign of this, writes V. M. Lurie, since Mary gave birth to a mortal body, and it was necessary for it to be transformed into incorruptibility, which happens at the resurrection when flesh (sarx) disappears and is replaced by simply a body (soma), or, in other words, "the spiritual body" replaces the "natural body" (cf. Lurie, Id., pp. 314-316). With this position comes the idea of a new nature of humanity, as the concept of mortality is removed from its definition (cf. Ant., p. 50). Timothy of Constantinople conveys Philoponus' views on this matter as follows: "... God creates new, better, incorruptible, and eternal bodies. ... The resurrection of the dead is defined as the indissoluble unity of the rational soul with the incorruptible body" (Ant., p. 53). Theologians (Patriarch Photius) perceived this concept as a denial of the resurrection of the bodies (Eret., p. 291).

In the second part of the aforementioned article, V. M. Lurie presents his reconstruction of Philoponus' doctrine of the resurrection. Here are its points: 1. Resurrected bodies are physically entirely different from their corruptible predecessors. 2. However, they share a common immortal soul, which is their "form." 3. Therefore, the identity of the resurrected person is ensured not only by his immortal soul but also by the "form" of his body, whose incorruptible and eternal matter consists of elements different from those of the corruptible body.

Historians of philosophy and science generally hold Philoponus' work in high regard. V. M. Lurie, for instance, writes of him: "Philoponus... was distinguished by... original manifestations of creative thought in the field of philosophy... one of the most prominent thinkers of the Middle Ages, whose influence... was immense both in Byzantium and in the Islamic world" (Lurie, p. 216).

The following century, the seventh, is marked by the activity of one of the most prominent philosophical theologians of Byzantium and the entire Christian world of that time—Maximus the Confessor. Little is known about the early period of his life. It is believed that he was born in Constantinople, apparently to a family of considerable standing, as he himself spent some time at the imperial court. However, there is no specific information regarding his philosophical education, which is important for the history of philosophy. After leaving court service, Maximus entered a monastery near Constantinople, and after several years, moved to a monastery near Carthage. During the controversies and church struggles over Christological issues that unfolded in the mid-seventh century, Maximus was eventually condemned in 662, tortured, and exiled to Colchis, where he died the same year.

Maximus the Confessor does not have any works in which his views of interest to the historian of philosophy are systematically presented. A significant portion of his writings consists of interpretations of various passages from the Holy Scriptures, which he considers allegories. In elucidating the speculative meaning of these allegories, Maximus reveals not only his theological views but also his philosophical ones. Therefore, to describe his philosophical outlooks, we will base our discussion on the issues that Maximus himself emphasizes the most. It seems that the best starting point for outlining Maximus’s philosophical views is his work titled "The Chapters on Theology and the Economy of the Incarnation of the Son of God" (economy refers to the execution of God’s plan). This work presents philosophical questions in a more consistent and logically theoretical form compared to his other writings, making it a suitable foundation. Subsequently, we can refer to his other works, such as the "Ambigua to John," "Ambigua to Thomas," "Questions and Answers to Phalasius," "Mystagogy," and others.

In "The Chapters on Theology," Maximus begins by addressing the fundamental question of religious ontology—the relationship between God and created being. He starts by affirming that "God is one, without beginning, incomprehensible, and possesses the full power of total being." In contrast, "nothing that is denoted by the term ’being’ possesses being in the true sense of the word."

Maximus predominantly adheres to the typical apophatic theology's negative definitions of God: infinite, immovable, and beyond limits, among others. In "Mystagogy," he reproduces one of the most paradoxical "Areopagite" names for God: "Due to the super-being of God, it is more appropriate to describe Him as 'Non-being.'" Nevertheless, he also discusses the names and functions of God in a positive light. God is everything we call Him and is characterized as the principle of being and the creative cause of essence, power, and action. In the Word of God, all the logoi of sensible and intelligible creatures and all things are contained and encompassed. God is referred to as the Whole, the Unique, Thought, and Essence, though He transcends essence and thought, as well as being an indivisible and simple Unity. Maximus also argues that the Holy Scriptures present God in terms fitting the disposition of those under His care. Thus, God is described as a lion, a bear, a man, the sun, and the wind. However, the meaning of each of these terms is accessible only through spiritual interpretation. This can be considered Maximus’s "method of symbolic mystical vision."

Epistemologically, both the negative and positive definitions of God imply His unknowability. Maximus acknowledges both judgments, describing God as both being and non-being as equally valid, because they speak of His existence and super-existence, yet they are invalid as they do not address the essence and nature of His being. God possesses a being that is beyond any affirmation or denial. This forms the basis of Maximus’s theological agnosticism. Additionally, his epistemological stance is mystically inclined, evident in his denial of knowledge of God through His "natural manifestation" or through "what is naturally contemplated following Him." Maximus compares the cataphatic and apophatic approaches to theology. The former makes the Word flesh, as it knows God only through visible and tangible things. The latter, based on negative judgments rather than anything accessible to knowledge, makes the Word Spirit, truly knowing the Super-knowable.

This indicates a refusal to fully grasp the essence of God, as Maximus writes that the world possesses logoi as images of reasoning inherent in its nature, which make possible a partial comprehension of Divine Wisdom present in all creatures. This "logical" path to God is outlined in his discussion of the logoi of nature and the associated five modes of natural contemplation. Maximus seems to refer to the operation of generalizing the logoi of nature and its categorical description. Indeed, the five modes of contemplation are categories like "essence," "movement," "difference," "mixture" (or "connection," including the connection of beings, such as virtues through free will), and "position" (referring to the relatively stable state of beings, least subject to random deviations from the principle of good). The logoi of essence, movement, and difference provide knowledge of God from the perspective of Creator, Providence, and Judge. Furthermore, all these logoi collectively show God as the essence and movement of beings, the difference among differences, the inseparable connection of united beings, and the immovable foundation of positions, as well as the cause of every essence, movement, difference, mixture, and position. Yet, Maximus ultimately believes that we know God not in essence but through the grandeur of His creations, where we see His wisdom as in a mirror. His words emphasize: "Desiring to theologize, do not seek what God is in Himself; for this will not be found by the human mind."

This means that God is opposed to things not only ontologically but also epistemologically: all that exists is comprehended by the mind, whereas God remains inaccessible to contemplation, and His existence is accepted on faith. Thus, a crucial opposition in Christianity is introduced: knowledge (of things) and faith (in the being of God). However, this opposition is not absolute, as faith in some respects is based on knowledge, which we might call theological rationalization of faith. Maximus argues that the knowledge of beings is achieved through their own logoi, which provide natural stability. Then, through these logoi, faith in the being of God is attained, "revealed by faith from the ordered structure of visible things." His definition of faith is: "Faith is true knowledge with undemonstrable beginnings, as it is the hypostasis of things that surpass the mind and reason." Here, the term "hypostasis" is used not in its usual anthropological sense but in the sense that, through faith, invisible Divine essences find their "visible" existence (face). This interpretation seems connected to Maximus’s statement that hypostasis delineates and describes the general and indescribable as the particular. The definition of faith also reflects the orthodox position of its ultimate superiority over reason. Elsewhere, he states that the active mind has its head in the Word of faith and does not shame it, believing that nothing is above faith. Maximus offers other definitions of faith as well. For example, faith is true knowledge showing ineffable goods.

The division between knowledge and faith relates to distinguishing two types of knowledge: scientific knowledge, which comprehends the logoi of being and does not aim at fulfilling commandments, thus being useless; and practical knowledge, which genuinely seeks to understand beings through spiritual experience. This experience is personal, experienced by the individual, a characteristic of mystics.

It can be considered that the primary goal of humanity (or the soul) is achieved through this path of spiritual experience (along with faith)—the knowledge of God. This act has a distinctly mystical character, as it is only possible when God Himself descends to the soul; raises it to Himself; elevates the mind, and illuminates it with Divine rays. This is complemented by Maximus’s statement that the rational soul guides the mind away from all Divine logoi contained in beings, unites it with God in loving ecstasy, and through mystical theology makes it immovable in God. Scholars have described this "supra-rational vision" as an ecstasy and a kind of "return" of the mind to God: God manifests Himself in cognitive forms to reveal Himself to humans, while humans emerge from the world to encounter God as He is beyond the world.

These statements by Maximus encompass nearly the entire mystical perspective on knowledge: detachment from created being, love for God, and achieving spiritual repose in God. It is noteworthy that love is essential for faith, as otherwise it will not produce the light of knowledge in the soul, similar to how a memory of fire does not warm the body, according to Maximus.

Maximus defines love as the soul’s disposition by which it prefers the knowledge of God over all creation and renounces attachment to earthly things. Thus, love implies both detachment and serene repose. The path to achieving detachment has four stages: abstaining from committing evil; rejecting sinful thoughts; refraining from passions due to the penetration of spiritual vision through visible images of things into their logoi; and cleansing the imagination from representations of passions in those who have made the ruling principle of their soul (the mind) pure through the contemplation of God’s pure mirror.

Prayer also serves as a tool for detaching the mind from thoughts about things. Maximus points out that the grace of prayer unites the mind with God, and such union separates the mind from all thoughts.

When thought transcends the multitude of sensible and intelligible things, it becomes formless, and God grants it repose from the alternating flow of mental images. This state of intelligible beings and mystical contemplation is another crucial aspect of Maximus’s mysticism. It is associated with silence, with refraining from speaking about God. This "providential silence" is experienced in quiet repose; it cannot be explained by words or reasoning but only by the experience of those who have been granted "providential delight." Silence is elevated above verbosity and numerous sounds. Maximus justifies this by stating that God is One and Unique, whereas spoken words are many. Thus, it is more reliable to contemplate within the soul without uttering anything because the soul rests in the undivided Unity. In describing this mystical knowledge of God, Maximus adopts the vocabulary of the Areopagite. He calls the heavenly knowledge of beings Darkness, a formless and immaterial arrangement, in which a person, having recognized his mortal nature, perceives the Invisible. Therefore, scholars speak of the influence of Neoplatonic teachings on Maximus through Dionysius the Areopagite.

Maximus’s eschatological beliefs reflect his overall spiritual doctrine. He accepts the concept of Divine Unity as a Divine Will and recognizes the world as the material of this Will, which indicates the creation of this world. Maximus refers to this principle as the "ontological principle" of Divine unity, which encompasses Divine being and will. According to his doctrine, God is both the Creator of all things and the End of all things, and the latter is ultimately revealed as God’s own Self. The End of all things is God Himself, not in the final sense but as a true divine return of beings to the essence of God. This is a circular process, as everything returns to the Creator who is the end of all things. The end is not external to creation but rather a return to God, indicating the unity of God as the origin and goal of all things. This return is achieved through Divine power and grace, reflecting the perfect unity of God’s transcendence and immanence.

Maximus’s eschatological views encompass a vision of the ultimate reconciliation of all beings with God, where all creation finds its final fulfillment in the Divine essence.

In Maximus the Confessor's epistemological views, a special place is occupied by the knowledge of God through Christ. There is a distinction between direct knowledge of God as a general principle and the mediated understanding of Him through the person of Christ, who appears as the "hypostasis of two natures, uncreated and created," both impassible and passible. The Divine Logos has revealed Himself in nature and Scripture, embodying Himself through His energies or ideas, which, although dispersed, unite in Him like radii converging at the center of a circle. Without the Word, no created being can perceive the Father as the source of His mind. This situation is analogous to our words, which, emerging from the mind, are messengers of its hidden movements.

Thus, Christ becomes a central figure in Maximus’s epistemological views, as knowledge of the incarnate God allows for the development of a Christological theory of knowledge. The primary tool for this theory is the interpretation of Sacred Scripture as allegory and symbol of Christ's life. Indeed, Christ in the flesh and the literal words of Scripture do not immediately reveal the true and authentic knowledge of God. Maximus notes that one should not cling solely to the words of Scripture, as God became man to spiritually fulfill the law, transcending its literal form. When comparing Scripture to a person, he suggests that the "historical literalness" of the written word represents the body, while its meaning—the soul—is the goal of the mind’s aspirations. God, as the Word, needing no parables in His own right, took on parables and allegories when He became flesh to communicate with humanity. Thus, to reach the true, "naked" Christ, one must penetrate through the veil of material things, flesh, and words, overcoming this veil with intellectual insight, and move from the letter to the spirit of Scripture, scraping away the "fleshly mass of words" with the finest intellectual discernment. For instance, the Savior’s robe is to be seen as the intertwining of virtues.

Maximus also remarks that in the active person practicing virtues, the Word of God becomes flesh, whereas in the contemplative person, it becomes refined through spiritual understanding and returns to its original state as the Divine Word. He observes that those who present the teaching of the Word through "thick examples and sayings" make it flesh, whereas those who elucidate the mysteries of theology through intellectual insight make the Word Spirit. Maximus’s writings are full of such discussions. For example, the sun standing still in the Book of Joshua is interpreted as the Word of God enlightening the mind, giving it the power of understanding and dispelling ignorance. The destruction of the walls of Jericho by Joshua is mystically seen as the Word of God conquering the world.

In the case of understanding the Divine essence of Christ, the realities of the incarnate God play an important role, particularly when symbolically interpreted. For instance, the Lord’s revelation at the age of 30 is seen by Maximus as manifesting the mysteries concerning Him, such as the Lord being the Creator of time through the number seven, which represents a weekly cycle; of nature through the number five, representing the five senses; and of rational beings transcending nature through the number eight, symbolizing eternity. The Lord is also seen as the Providence through the number ten, representing the Ten Commandments. The sum of these numbers gives thirty.

Regarding creation and its understanding, Maximus maintains that God creates out of His goodness, whenever He wills, by His sole Word and Spirit. The logoi of creation—angels, powers, and the entities of the heavenly world, humans, and all else—exist in God before the ages and before their own existence. Logoi are the principles or laws of nature, encompassing the entire sensory and intellectual (spiritual) world. As noted by S. L. Epifanovich, their condensation and "gradual densification" form the coarse, perceptible creation, with qualitative differences depending on the combination of logoi. He also points out that all being, as a collection of logoi, is essentially perfect. The sensory world consists of four elements and is maintained by them. Logoi are present in created things and are comparable to the Stoic Xoyoi and Augustine's rationes seminales. Thus, creation is divided into logoi and external appearances. Consequently, Maximus’s ontology is marked by the notion that "the sensory world is non-material in its qualitative foundations," while the intelligible world exists within the sensory one, forming a unified world, like body and soul in a person.

Maximus applies numerical symbolism to the description of nature: matter is fourfold due to the four elements, and form is fivefold due to the senses that shape and give form to material substance. The sensory world is characterized by decay and conflict, while logoi are free from opposition.

In creation, being is thought of prior to movement, as there cannot be movement before being. Nothing that has come into being remains stationary according to its natural logoi. Weight moves either in a straight line, a circle, or spirally; everything is unstable and flowing. At present, nothing created has yet ceased its natural movement toward its corresponding end. The source of movement is the very act of creation, that is, God. Maximus’s statement that "all... endures movement, not being self-moved or self-powered" reflects this. S. L. Epifanovich rightly classifies Maximus’s teaching within idealistic systems, centered on the idea of a First Principle from which all being is derived and explained. However, for Maximus, the First Principle is expressed as the idea of the Logos, an active principle of the First Principle with direct relevance to created being and its knowledge.

Maximus portrays the totality of being, encompassing all its levels from God Himself, through the figure of Christ and His creation—the Church. The hypostasis of Christ allows Him to provide a synthetic description of the world, showing its unity. In commenting on the Scripture’s account of King Uzziah’s construction of towers in Jerusalem, Maximus suggests that Scripture may be referring to the corners where separated creatures are united by Christ. Christ has made the logoi of nature, common to both man and woman, free from passions, thus uniting humanity by overcoming the distinction of gender through the Spirit. The division into male and female does not pertain to the logoi of human nature but was created by God in anticipation of the fall, which deprived humanity of angelic, sexless reproduction. Furthermore, Christ has unified the earth, removing the distinction between the sensory paradise and the inhabited earth; He united heaven and earth, showing that the unified nature of sensory things gravitates towards itself; He unified sensory and intelligible things, revealing the single essence of created beings; finally, He united created nature with the uncreated according to the superessential logoi and mode.

Maximus repeatedly addresses the cosmic role of Christ. The divine Word has abolished hostile forces filling the space between heaven and earth. It has united heaven and earth by ascending to heaven with the body it took on earth and restored human nature to its original form by maintaining a will free from passions. This cosmic significance is also noted in relation to humanity. Humans are called to eliminate cosmic divisions such as the separation of the created and uncreated, heaven and earth, and to bridge the gap between themselves and God, thus serving as a microcosm. According to S. L. Epifanovich, this implies that a person overcoming these divisions returns to their "primitive state," that is, to the blessed state of the first human, with a body that was light and incorruptible, free from the burden of sustenance, and not subjected to the law of animal reproduction. Maximus’s view of ideal human being is shaped by the restored type revealed in Christ.

In the "Mystagogy," Maximus describes the essential components of being as outlined by Dionysius the Areopagite, whose hierarchy had an epistemological significance, illustrating the stages of movement towards God. Maximus constructs his own hierarchy to describe the structure of being. However, the key distinction in his hierarchy is that, continuing Dionysius’s teaching, Maximus bases it on the Church, finding images and representations of all existence within it. Consequently, Maximus’s hierarchy represents a hierarchy of images revealed at various levels of contemplation, with the Church being the bearer of these images.

Firstly, the Church is an image and representation of God because, like God, who "binds, unites, and limits all," it "achieves unity among believers" of men, women, and children, who differ by appearance, nationality, language, way of life, etc. Secondly, as a building, it is an image of the world, with the altar symbolizing the higher world of the celestial powers and heaven, and the temple representing the lower world, sensory life, and earth. Thirdly, the Church symbolically represents humanity: the altar signifies the soul, the altar the mind, and the temple the body. Thus, the Church appears both as a microcosm and a "macro-man."

These elements of the church building allow Maximus to describe the ascending hierarchy of knowledge levels: moral philosophy as the temple; natural contemplation as the altar; and mystical theology as the sacrificial altar. Lastly, the Church is an image of the soul. The rational power of the soul (mind) is symbolized by the altar, while the vital force driven by reason is represented by the temple. As a result, a descending chain of the primary links of being is established: God → world (heaven → earth) → man (soul → body) → soul (rational power → vital force). This is the outcome of Maximus’s elevated contemplation. S. L. Epifanovich presents a description of the hierarchy of created being as a descending ladder of five kinds of being: intellectual, rational, sensory (animal), vegetal, and mineral. However, Maximus's hierarchy is more about the union of images within the Church's vision.

Maximus the Confessor’s thought demonstrates the unity of created and uncreated existence. Creation does not impede the divine, as God's essence remains transcendent and superior to creation. God’s knowledge and energy permeate all creation, as seen in the divine Logoi, through which God's creative act manifests in the physical and spiritual worlds.

If Christ is generally perceived as the foundation of Christian epistemology in terms of reason, knowledge, and truth, for Maximus, Christ is primarily the incarnate God, and thus the deified man. This makes Him a central figure in Christian anthropology, elevating human beings to the forefront of Maximus’s philosophical views. This perspective is further enriched by the Christological debates that influenced his thought.

In this context, another observation by S. L. Epifanovich deserves attention. The idea of the Logos pertains only to the ideal aspect of existence. More tangibly, it is grasped through the concept of man, a representative of created existence who reflects or symbolizes the Logos in the world and thus becomes a miniature version of both the world and the Logos.

Maximus writes: “The Word of God… became Man and the Son of Man in order to make men gods and sons of God.” His thought is both simple and fundamental: Christ represents the divine love for humanity and the idea of human deification through love for God. Attainment of God is arguably the central theme of Maximus's anthropology. The Lord dwells in the person who either lives according to the Logos of virtue or engages in the contemplation of the Divine through true knowledge of beings. God is born in the "pure heart" of a person who is free from the natural inclination towards the flesh. Having moved from the active state to the contemplative, the person exists “in the clear air of mystical contemplation, where he can always be with the Lord.”

Maximus’s "Ambigua" devotedly explores how humans achieve God. The basis of this process is that humans are created through the Logos, which exists in God, and therefore participate in God and are considered a part of Him. If they move according to this Logos, they will ascend to God, become united with Him, and become gods themselves. Virtue also serves as a connecting link between God and humanity, as its essence is the Divine Word. Consequently, a person who partakes in virtue also partakes in God. Those who approach God through “supreme virtue” cast off the bonds of the material world, detach from activity and matter, and through contemplation, become united with God, reaping the fruits of bliss and remaining unchanging, independent of material substance.

Maximus explains the biblical statement that “man is created in the image and likeness of God” as follows: man is created in the image of God as an eternal, though not eternal-origin, rational being; in likeness as one who is good and wise. V. V. Petrov notes that the image and likeness correspond to the pair nature - hypostasis. The image refers to the essence or nature of man, while the likeness refers to hypostasis, which is revealed only through personal effort and way of life.

Maximus rejects the idea of the pre-existence of souls relative to bodies, asserting that body and soul are parts that, when united, form a complete whole, separable only in thought. They "differ in concept of essence or nature," but "exist equally in hypostasis due to their mutual combination." This means that an individual person (hypostasis or person) contains different essences - body and soul. However, people do not differ in essence or nature but in hypostases. Thus, one and the same essence is contained in individual people.

God, who created human nature, endowed it with being, combined with will, and associated with the creative power to perform what is fitting. Humans are participants in three soul powers: nutritive and vegetative, imaginative and impulsive, and rational and cognitive. The first two are considered perishable, while the third is imperishable. As cognitive powers, Maximus identifies “three main movements” of the soul: intellectual, verbal (or rational), and sensory. The intellectual is directed towards the knowledge of God; the verbal towards determining the cause of the unknown and understanding natural Logoi; and the sensory, engaging with the external world, imprints the Logoi of visible things onto the soul. These powers also have ethical significance. Since a person consists of soul and body, they are subject to two laws: the law of the flesh and the law of the spirit. According to the former, one acts according to feeling and combines flesh with matter; according to the latter, one acts according to reason and seeks union with God. Reason does not allow feeling to reject Divine Logoi and become a servant of irrational passion and sin.

Humanity is divided into two alliances: the pious and the impious. The historical existence of humanity is also presented in terms of two stages. God divided the ages, some for the purpose of becoming man, and others for making man divine. The ages destined for God’s incarnation have already come to an end, and now we await other ages in which the deification of humanity through Divine grace will occur. “In short,” concludes Maximus, “some ages relate to God’s condescension towards humanity, while others relate to humanity’s ascent to God.” He refers to the present life as “the age of the flesh,” and the future as “the age of the spirit.”

Maximus considers the ultimate fate of humanity and the world eschatologically, linking it to the end of the world. He draws an analogy between the world and man, and between man and the world, as there is correspondence between the intelligible essences and the soul, and between sensory things and the body. This allows Maximus to speak of their similar destinies. When God, at the end of the ages, dissolves the connection between the parts of the world for a higher economy, the aging world will die and immediately be resurrected in its youth. Along with it, humanity will rise, as the small with the great. The world and humanity will undergo similar changes: the sensory will become like the intelligible, and the body like the soul, resulting in humanity receiving the power of incorruption. Here, Maximus addresses a crucial issue in Christian anthropology — the resurrection of man.

In the ethical domain, which deals with overcoming sin and evil and acquiring virtue and good, Maximus compares the morality of the Old and New Testaments, using the common method of interpreting texts as symbols. For example, he views circumcision and the crossing of the Jordan as the removal of impurity from the soul and body through the Logos of faith.

Maximus’s focus on Christ leads him to exalt the Gospel. He considers the Law (Old Testament) as a shadow of the Gospel, which is the image of future blessings. The former prevents the commission of evil deeds, while the latter encourages the performance of good deeds. The Law is likened to the flesh and senses, while the Gospel is likened to the rational soul, acting through flesh and senses. This represents a call to follow the Gospel life, turning the mind away from the flesh and the world and towards God, as Maximus consistently emphasized. For instance, he writes: “One who seeks life in Christ surpasses the righteousness that is in the law and nature.” Elsewhere, he states that by becoming like the Lord’s flesh through the Holy Spirit, we reject the corruption of sin, since Christ was sinless by His human nature.

Overall, we are encouraged towards good by the seeds of goodness inherent in us by nature, the holy forces, and the good will. The explanation of these three principles is as follows: the seeds of goodness by nature manifest in our desire for others to treat us as we treat them, and in our natural mercy towards those in distress. These words reflect the golden rule of ethics and the notion of innate human kindness. However, the sower of spiritual Logoi and “ways of courteous behavior” in the realm of visible creatures is their Creator Himself. The holy forces are the good assistance to our inclination towards good deeds, which we find within ourselves. This notion is also reflected in the idea of the presence of the Holy Spirit in all people. This is suggested by Maximus’s example that even among barbarians, there are many who have acquired moral nobility and rejected the savage laws that prevailed among them.

Finally, good will is the choice of good based on the distinction between good and evil. Maximus attributes it to one of the three main modes of human creation — well-being, which depends on our choice and provides true meaning to the other two modes — being and creation.

Maximus divides virtues into bodily (fasting, vigil, labor, etc.) and spiritual (love, magnanimity, meekness, etc.). Undoubtedly, the development of virtues is linked to the fulfillment of the Ten Commandments. Through interpreting Scripture with numerical symbolism, Maximus transforms the forty thousand Israelites into four stages of advancement in the Ten Commandments. The first stage is the simple observance of the commandments (denoted by the number ten). The second is the comprehensive understanding of the commandments through the practice of each (corresponding to the number one hundred). The third is the application of all ten powers of human nature to the observance of the commandments (three soul powers, five senses, the ability to speak, and the power of reproduction) (equated to one thousand). The fourth is the ascent to the highest Logos of each commandment through contemplation and understanding of natural law (analogous to forty thousand, as the Logos of each stage centers around ten thousand).

Maximus writes that “the endeavor of virtue” brings the “victorious crown — the impassibility of the soul,” through which it separates from the body and the world.

In his ethical teaching, Maximus specifically addresses the requirement of detachment from reality, which aligns with his epistemological positions. He states that neither intellect, natural understanding of things, things themselves, nor feelings are evil. Evil is the passion that attaches itself to the natural concept of things, as it represents an unnatural movement of the soul. Like all Christian thinkers, Maximus denies evil its independent existence by its own nature, as it lacks any essence.

Maximus essentially understands passions as animal states and depicts the variety of human passions as different living creatures. Reptiles represent those “possessed by the appetitive principle, crawling with difficulty among earthly things”; beasts represent those “furiously aroused in themselves to the destruction of each other”; and birds represent those who “elevate all their rational principle in pride and arrogance.”

Thus, evil is defined as “false judgment” about things and their incorrect use. “Not food is evil, but gluttony; not procreation, but fornication; not money, but avarice,” writes Maximus. To express such ideas, Maximus resorts to the well-known historical concept of moral corruption and the decline of strict living as the cause of the downfall of “the strongest and wisest nations, celebrated for their power.” There was a time, recounts Maximus, when humans lived on fruits and drank only water. At that time, he did not know illness; his body was full of physical strength, and his soul was morally sound. However, he soon began to choose refined foods, often harmful, corrupting his body and soul. Nature then repaid him with numerous diseases. It came to a point where a rational person might now look to dumb animals, who “understand better the harm of carnal pleasures and therefore meet only occasionally for the sake of procreation.”

Specific moral teachings of Maximus adhere to the fundamental principle of religious morality — a moral act is performed primarily for God in fulfillment of His commandments, and not directly for humanity or out of personal conviction, the imperative of conscience. “In all our deeds, God looks at the intention, whether we do them for Him or for some other reason.” When we wish to do something good, “we should aim not at pleasing men, but at pleasing God.” Those who steadfastly endure the hardships of labor for virtue, he notes, glorify God. Love for humanity is mediated through love for God: one who loves God cannot but love every person.

Overall, the writings of Maximus the Confessor reveal him to be a classic religious philosopher, or a theologically-inclined philosopher, primarily engaged with two religious-philosophical themes: epistemological, in the form of mystical knowledge of God, and ethical, in the form of moral assimilation to the sinless Christ. These themes collectively guide the pursuit of the ultimate goal of human life—union with the Divine. Therefore, it seems fitting to propose the formula "Intellectus quaerens Deum" as a general denominator of Maximus the Confessor’s philosophical orientation.

While we have previously discussed the Christian Neoplatonism of Pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite, as well as Maximus the Confessor's affinity for it, we can now turn to Christian Aristotelianism, which, following John Philoponus, is exemplified in the work of John of Damascus (8th century).

John was born in Damascus into an Arab-Christian family, some members of which (including himself for a time) served at the court of the caliph. This background is noted at the beginning of A. K. Tolstoy’s poem "John of Damascus":

Favored by the caliph was John, To him, each day, honor and grace, Called to the affairs of governance, He alone of Christians in Damascus’ embrace.

John received a home education under a monk. Around 700, John withdrew to a monastery near Jerusalem. It is noteworthy that Tolstoy's poem is dedicated to John’s time in the Kedron Monastery, describing his acceptance of the vow of silence and his miraculous return to poetic creation, which is portrayed as John’s life’s calling—the ecclesiastical poet:

To free thought, God detests Violence and oppression; Born free within the soul, It will not die in chains!

John of Damascus’s principal work, "The Source of Knowledge," begins with philosophical chapters that serve as a propaedeutic to Christian doctrine, laying the groundwork for its categorical interpretation. John asserts: "First of all, I shall offer that which is best among the Greek sages" (Hist. Prsdisl.). Accordingly, he defines the goal of his work as: "to begin with philosophy and briefly outline all kinds of knowledge" (Hist. I, II). This does not negate the fact that he bases knowledge on Scripture, but it is complemented by an examination of the teachings of pagan philosophers, leading him to the noteworthy statement: "Perhaps we will find something useful there as well. It is fitting for a queen to make use of maidservants. Thus, we shall also borrow teachings that serve the truth" (Hist. I, I).

Thus, despite all reservations, philosophy becomes, in itself, the "source of knowledge," evident from John’s adoption of the ancient definition of philosophy as "the art of arts and science of sciences," the beginning of every art and science (Hist. I, III). John’s philosophical subject matter includes the following questions: the knowledge of being as such, i.e., the nature of being; the knowledge of divine and human things, i.e., the visible and the invisible; contemplation of death; and finally, philosophy as likeness to God through wisdom, i.e., through the knowledge of good and justice. This last position is particularly significant as it reflects John’s Christian approach to philosophy, classically expressed in his formulation: "Love of God is true philosophy" (Hist. I, III).

Additionally, John delineates philosophical issues by describing the structure of philosophical knowledge, reproducing the ancient division of philosophy into theoretical and practical. The theoretical includes theology, physiology (the study of nature), and mathematics; the practical includes ethics, economics (household management), and politics (Hist. I, III). Theoretical philosophy, John explains further, aims to examine primarily the incorporeal, immaterial in the strict sense, i.e., God, followed by angels, demons, and souls, which are immaterial relative to the body but material relative to God (the subject of theology).

Theoretical philosophy also examines the nature of the material, such as animals, plants, and stones, which constitutes the subject of physiology (Hist. I, LXVII). The subsequent chapter contains a section "Explanation of Terms," which serves as a kind of natural-philosophical and scientific glossary. Examples include: "Element is that from which something originates and into which it ultimately resolves" (elements are fire, water, air, earth, from which bodies are formed); "Time is the measure of movement and the number of the earlier and later in motion" (Hist. I, LXVIII).

These chapters include an extensive commentary on Aristotle’s doctrine of categories, which, in our view, undergoes a certain Christian adaptation to explain various aspects of Christian theology. It is on this aspect of John’s commentary that we will primarily focus. However, it is important to note that he, strictly Aristotelian, assigns ontological significance to the categories. For instance, he writes: "Let us first discuss simple terms, which through their simple meanings denote simple things" (Hist. I, III).

Turning to the primary category describing being (to on)—substance (ousia)—its characteristics are: it has existence in itself, not in another; it is the subject (hypokeimenon), akin to matter for things; it "is a self-existent thing, not requiring another for its existence." Based on this, John concludes: "Thus, substance will be God and every creation, although God is the preeminent substance" (Hist. I, IV). This understanding of substance is close to Aristotle’s concept of primary substance (individual things) and the concept of hypostasis in theology and John himself (as discussed further below).

Moments of religious approach to the categories are evident in John’s call to consider their understanding by the Holy Fathers, whose views stand in opposition to those of pagan philosophers. The Holy Fathers rejected useless verbal disputes, particularly concerning concepts such as essence, nature, hypostasis, and others, which played a crucial role in Christological and Trinitarian theory.

The Holy Fathers described nature (physis), essence—also substance (ousia)—and form (morphe) as species or, in John’s alternative formulation, "general and said of many objects, i.e., a lower species," such as angel, man, dog (Hist. I, V; XXX). One explanation by John on this matter is: "Form is substance, shaped and specialized by essential differences (diaphora); it is the lowest species" (Hist. I, XLI). Thus, for example, a substance characterized by the attributes of an animate, rational, and mortal body constitutes the species of man.

The Holy Fathers referred to individual (idiotes), person, or hypostasis as individual (idiotes), for instance, Peter, Paul (Hist. I, XXX). Thus, two important ontological categories emerge: the general (species) and the individual (person, hypostasis). An example statement on this is: "One is essence, and another is hypostasis; essence denotes the general type, encompassing the hypostases of a single type, such as God or man, while hypostasis denotes the indivisible, such as the Father, the Son, the Holy Spirit, Peter, Paul" (Hist. III, III, IV). It is also noted that the distinction between species and hypostasis is as follows: objects unified by species, such as Peter and Paul, are not counted or named as two natures, but, differing as hypostases, they are called two persons (Hist. III, III, VII).

John examines how the general and individual relate. The lowest species, such as man, horse, is also an individual (though not in the strictest sense), as it does not divide into other species. The individual, on the other hand, is an individual in the strict sense, as it does not retain its original species after division. Here, some commonality between the individual and the lowest species is apparent from John’s example: "Peter divides into soul and body. But neither the soul nor the body is a complete man or complete Peter," and the individual is accepted as "a hypostasis based on substance" (Hist. I, XI). These statements reveal the "composition" of individual things' attributes, as substance relates to their species or general properties, while hypostasis relates to their distinguishing, characteristic properties (accidents). Essence, writes John, is general, while person is particular. Persons do not differ from each other by essence but by accidental attributes that constitute the distinguishing characteristics of the person, not its nature. For hypostasis is defined as essence along with accidental features, meaning that a person has the general (generic) along with distinguishing features (Hist. III, III, VI).

Another aspect of the composition of things is presented by John in discussions about a single (simple) or multiple natures, i.e., complex nature, hypostasis (individual). This deserves consideration, as understanding the unity or division of the nature of hypostasis served as a philosophical-theoretical basis for Christology and Trinitarianism, as seen in the example of John Philoponus. John writes that a single hypostasis can arise from various natures, an example being man, composed of soul and body. Nevertheless, these different natures should be considered as one nature, as they constitute a single species to which the hypostasis belongs; in other words, natures are unified in relation to species. John explains this: "Individuals subject to the same lowest species are called consubstantial, having one nature." Further: "The complex nature of humans is called one because complex hypostases of humans are reduced to a single species." However, concerning a single (real) thing, the unity of different natures cannot be discussed: "A particular person is not called an entity of one nature, as each hypostasis of humans consists of two natures, body and soul; and it preserves them in itself as distinct, as evidenced by the separation occurring due to death" (Hist. I, XLI).

In the most extreme case, Damascene assigns to hypostasis the function of a sign, a mere designation of a particular object or person. He writes, "Hypostasis does not express what the object is, nor what it is like, but who it is. For in answering the question 'Who is this?' we say: Peter." Yet, Damascene generally describes hypostasis as a singular entity within the entirety and uniqueness of its sensually perceived qualities: "Hypostasis must possess substance with accidents, exist on its own, and be perceived through sensation, or actually." He further explains the concept of hypostasis, stating that it signifies simple being—substance, or what might be called the primary essence in the Aristotelian sense; it is being in itself, self-sufficient being; it also denotes an individual, such as Peter or a particular horse, distinguished from others merely numerically. Damascene refers to the authority of ecclesiastical teaching: "The Holy Fathers used terms like hypostasis, person, and individual to denote that which, consisting of substance and accidents, exists on its own and independently, distinguished by number, and signifies a specific entity, such as Peter or a particular horse."

It is particularly important to underscore the ontological status of hypostasis as immediate being: the person has autonomous existence, while essence does not have autonomous being but is perceived in persons. Damascene notes that only hypostases, or individuals, exist on their own. All other components of being—substance, essential differences, species, and accidents—are only contemplated and receive their existence through and in them. Damascene writes that only in an individual "does substance with its accidents receive actual existence." This position is also reflected in his explanation of the origin of the term "hypostasis" (ὑπόστασις): it comes from the word ὑποστάναι—"to stand under" or "to stand in the foundation of something."

Damascene also offers a correction to the concept of the likeness between image and original, deriving from the Christian notion of our resemblance to God. Usually, an image and the original share nothing in common except name and figure. However, a person shares qualities with God in goodness, wisdom, and power, though to a lesser degree. Furthermore, God possesses these attributes by nature, while we do so only by His willing.

Turning from ontological issues to Damascene’s epistemology, the foremost concern is, of course, the knowledge of God. He develops this theme as follows: the divine is ineffable and incomprehensible. No one knows the Father except the Son: not only humans but even "the principalities," cherubim, and seraphim. "Similarly, the Holy Spirit knows the divine, just as the human spirit knows what is within the person." Nevertheless, God has not left us in complete ignorance of Himself. Firstly, "He Himself has implanted in human nature knowledge of His existence: 'That God exists is a knowledge naturally bestowed upon us.'" Secondly, the creation, preservation, and governance of the world proclaim the greatness of the divine. Thirdly, through the law, prophets, and Jesus Christ, God has also imparted knowledge of Himself. We should be content with this and seek nothing more.

Despite this, Damascene also addresses arguments for the existence of God, which is typical of scholasticism. One of his proofs is empirical: everything changes. What changes is created by someone. The Creator must be an uncreated and, therefore, unchangeable being, which is precisely God. Another proof is hypothetical. The existence of God is assumed because otherwise, we cannot explain how hostile elements could combine to form the world; who arranged everything in its known places in the sky, earth, air, and water.

From all this, Damascene arrives at a typically agnostic conclusion: "That God exists is evident. But what He is in essence and nature is completely incomprehensible and unknown." Here, Damascene reflects the traditional view of knowledge of God.

It is impossible not only to achieve complete knowledge of God but also to provide an accurate description of Him. People speak of God in terms familiar to them, attributing sleep, anger, carelessness, hands, and feet to Him. Therefore, more appropriate are the following definitions of God provided by Damascene: God is without beginning, infinite, eternal, ever-existing, uncreated, simple, etc. He is impassible; He cannot be material, as He is infinite, boundless, and without form, nor immaterial, which Greek philosophers call the fifth element, namely, the aether.

Ultimately, Damascene expresses the view that the essence of God is not described by either negative or affirmative definitions. His essence is not defined by attributes like uncreatedness, timelessness, or immutability, as all these describe what God is not, rather than what He is. Affirmative statements about God—good, just, wise—reveal not His essence but attributes related to His nature. The inadequacy of these definitions, according to Damascene, is explained by the fact that people, encumbered with gross flesh, can only understand and speak of the immaterial and formless divine in a corporeal manner (anthropomorphically), using images, types, and symbols. For instance, God's "eyes" should be understood as His all-seeing power and knowledge. Damascene concludes with: "Divinity, being incomprehensible, will also be nameless. Not knowing its essence, we should not seek a name for its essence. For names should express their subject."

Nevertheless, there are "names attributable to God." Among them, following Gregory the Theologian, Damascene identifies above all His highest name, "He Who Is" (ὁ ὤν), which God Himself revealed to Moses. Damascene explains the meaning of this name as follows: "It includes all being in itself, as if a certain essence—unlimited and boundless." Additionally, this name shows that God is (ἐστίν). The words ὁ ὤν (He Who Is) and οὐσία (essence) are derived from the participles of the verb εἰμί (its infinitive form, εἶναι)—to be, which allows Damascene to speak of God as encompassing all being and, accordingly, existing. Generally, Damascene's approach to affirmative names for God is very close to that of Dionysius the Areopagite. For instance, he writes: "It is fitting for Him to receive names from the noblest and closest things. Thus, it is more appropriate to call Him the sun and light... and day... and life."

Another layer of Damascene’s positions on epistemology involves the characteristic ancient and medieval intertwining of psychology and epistemology. At that time, they were not separated; epistemology was psychologized, thus focusing not so much on the process of knowledge and epistemological procedures as on human cognitive abilities, which pertains more to psychology. Thus, he first discusses the faculties of the irrational soul: sensation (also imagination) and perception produced by objects, and dreams arising without sensory objects. We sense through sensory organs, imagine through the front ventricle of the brain. To the cognitive faculty, Damascene attributes judgment, desire, perception of the intelligible, virtues, knowledge, and free will. The organ of thinking ability is the middle ventricle of the brain and the vital spirit contained within it. Sensory perceptions and thoughts are preserved as memory representations.

Besides general questions, ontological and epistemological (or theological), Damascene also addresses the history of the world, the six days of creation, and human history from creation to the end of the world and resurrection, i.e., Christian natural philosophy and anthropology. Noteworthy in Damascene’s comments on these issues is his view of the purpose of creation: he believes that "God was not content with contemplating Himself alone" and created "all things, both visible and invisible, including man, composed of both visible and invisible elements." The order of creation he describes in a distinctly ancient, Aristotelian spirit, moving from matter to form. First, God brings matter into being, namely earth, air, fire, and water, and then "from these substances already created by Him"—animals, plants, seeds.

In Damascene's cosmology, we encounter a systematic description of the world's structure based on its material elements, rather than a mere biblical account of the six days of creation. This is clearly outlined in the chapter "On the Heavens." Within the spherical heavens, which encompass and compress all, the elements are arranged as follows: Earth and water, being the heaviest elements, are positioned at the center of the world. Surrounding them is air, and beyond that, the lightest of elements, the upward-seeking fire known as ether.

Damascene goes on to describe the physical properties and roles of fire, air, water, and earth in nature. These descriptions reflect observed empirical facts, establishing a vertical order from top to bottom: God, fire (the heavens), air, and so forth.

The structure of the heavens is described based on the then-current (ancient) astronomical views. It consists of seven spheres, each housing the planets. The heavens with their fixed stars move from east to west, while the planets move from west to east (referring to the annual movement of the planets through the zodiac constellations). However, above this physical (astronomical) heaven is another heaven, the heaven of heavens, which lies above the firmament. This is a metaphysical heaven, presumably the realm of God and angels, whose essence, according to Damascene, should not be probed as it is unknown to us.

It is worth noting that there is also a metaphysical dimension on earth: the "Divine Paradise, planted by the hands of God in Eden."

Damascene understands the role of celestial bodies in a scientific and realistic manner, rejecting astrology. For instance, the four seasons originate from the sun, and stars provide omens of weather and winds but do not predict human actions. Humans are created free by the Creator and are masters of their own deeds, unaffected by the stars.

Turning from natural philosophy to Damascene’s views on humanity, we note the following key points. The phrase "creation of man in the image and likeness of God" is explained by Damascene as follows: "in the image" refers to the capacity for intellect and freedom, while "in likeness" means resemblance to God in virtue. Hence, human appearance has no relation to God. Souls are incorporeal not by nature but by grace and compared to the coarse materiality of matter. The body consists of four humors, analogous to the four elements: black bile corresponds to earth; phlegm to water; phlegmatic humor to air; and yellow bile to fire. Through these and other connections, Damascene concludes that man is a microcosm. He resembles not only inanimate objects, plants, and animals but also spiritual beings.

Another notable thesis by Damascene is the concept of the free agent: "A person who acts and produces something is the source of their actions—and is free." His reasoning is that we are free due to our rationality, as evidenced by our ability to deliberate on our actions. However, the rewards for our deeds are not under our control, as everything depends on Divine will, given that all existence originates from God. God creates all things good; each individual, by their own choice, becomes either good or evil.

From Damascene's "Source of Knowledge," we can infer his historical and historical-philosophical views. He offers not just a conventional religious view of history, where God determines its course, but one where historical epochs and philosophical teachings are seen as heresies. Thus, Damascene identifies four sequential religious and social stages in human history, referring to them as "mothers and archetypes" of all heresies: barbarism, Scythianism, Hellenism, and Judaism. Their sequence is determined, as we will see, by biblical history, specifically the "genealogy of the sons of Noah" as outlined in the Bible, in the Book of Genesis.

Barbarism lasted from Adam to Noah, a time when social life had not yet formed. People had no leaders or consensus; each set their own preferences according to their will, which became their law. Scythianism emerged from Noah to Phalek, the descendant of Shem, Noah’s son, and his descendants Rogav and Pharra. This stage is distinguished by the settlement of Shem’s descendants "in the Scythian region."

Hellenism began with the time of Serug (Seruch), the son of Rogav. The progenitors of the Greeks were the Ionians, descended from Javan, the son of Japheth, Noah’s son. In this era, civilization developed. Human tribes transitioned to a civil structure, customs, and laws. Idolatry and philosophy emerged, which represent the essence of Hellenism as a heresy.

As a historian of philosophy, Damascene identifies the key doctrines of the Pythagoreans, Platonists, Stoics, and Epicureans. For example, the Stoics teach that everything is body and that the sensory world is considered God, and so forth. Damascene does not critique these philosophical schools and, thus, acts as a doxographer.

Finally, Judaism, which began with Abraham, is characterized by receiving the law from God.

In summary, Damascene is generally considered one of the founders of medieval scholastic philosophy. For instance, D. S. Biryukov has noted that Damascene wrote in the tradition of orthodox "Byzantine scholasticism."