Three Rogue Dominicans on Original Sin
Part One: Durandus of Saint-Pourçain
Lent is a liturgical season in which we are especially focused on humility before God and our need for God’s mercy. On Ash Wednesday, the priest administering ashes may say, “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return,” an allusion to Adam’s punishment for his sin in the Garden of Eden (3:19). One reason we are called to be humble before God is, as this admonition to Adam suggests, God created us from nothing. A reason for recognizing our need for divine mercy is original sin, the belief that we inherit a kind of moral corruption as a result of Adam’s sin. Original sin is at the root of our own personal sins and is only washed away by the waters of baptism.
Many Christians have an ambiguous relationship with this doctrine. On the one hand, considering all the great evils in the world, it is easy to conclude that humankind has an inclination toward evil—the Protestant theologian Reinhold Niebuhr famously quipped, “The doctrine of original sin is the only empirically verifiable doctrine of the Christian faith.” On the other, some Christians find certain aspects of the doctrine—its apparent dependence on a literal interpretation of the story of Adam and Eve, the implied notion of “collective guilt,” or the belief that original sin is somehow transmitted from parents to child—hard to swallow.
In part, this uncertainty over the doctrine may result from the dominance within the Catholic tradition of the theory of original sin first proposed by St. Augustine in the fifth century and further developed by St. Thomas Aquinas in the thirteenth century. Many may simply equate this Augustinian-Thomistic theory with the doctrine itself. Some may be aware of more modern alternative approaches, such as those proposed by the theologians Karl Rahner, SJ and James Alison, but in fact there have been diverse understandings of original sin all along.
I want to highlight the theories of original sin proposed by three “rogue Dominicans”: Durandus of Saint-Pourçain, Robert Holcot, and Ambrogio Catarino Politi. I refer to them as “rogue” Dominicans not because they rejected the teachings of the Church or because of any negative quality in their character, but simply because they refused to follow the teachings of Thomas Aquinas, who had become the theological authority within the Dominican Order by the early fourteenth century. I will explain Durandus’s approach to original sin in this article, and those of Holcot and Politi in one or two later installments.
Before considering the theories of these three rogue Dominicans, however, it will be helpful to outline the main points of the Augustinian-Thomistic approach to the doctrine. According to Augustine, God created Adam in a condition of original innocence. Adam existed in a state of virtue, with his will governed by his reason, and his sensual appetites under the command of his will. Not only that, but God had gifted Adam with grace (what later theologians would call “sanctifying grace”) in order to lead him toward loving union with God. When Adam sinned, he lost this grace. But his nature was also corrupted or weakened, although not destroyed, a condition Augustine referred to as “concupiscence.” Aquinas largely followed Augustine regarding Adam’s original state and the effects of his sin.
The doctrine of original sin, of course, deals not just with the effects of Adam’s sin on himself, but also with our inheritance of the sin and its effects. Appealing to certain passages from the Apostle Paul, particularly Rom. 5:12—”Wherefore as by one man sin entered into this world, and by sin death; and so death passed upon all men, in whom all have sinned” (Douay-Rheims; the latter clause is now understood as a mistranslation, and now is generally translated as “because all have sinned”)—Augustine concluded that we inherit, and share the guilt for, original sin because we share in and inherit Adam’s wounded nature. Augustine went further, proposing that the unavoidable element of lust, a byproduct of concupiscence, in the sexual act in some way transmitted original sin to the new soul brought about through procreation.
By the time of Aquinas, this theory had been integrated with then current theories of human conception. Some believed that the father’s sperm was a particle sharing the father’s substance that, in the womb, grows into a new person once ensouled by God; because the sperm shares the father’s substance, it is therefore corrupted by sin, and hence “infects” the new soul, as well. Others (including Aquinas, in his Commentary on the Sentences) taught that the sperm is mere matter (i.e., it does not share the father’s substance) that is fashioned into a new body in the womb; although not sharing the father’s substance and therefore not directly inheriting moral corruption, nevertheless the sperm is corrupted by sin as a result of lust, and therefore infects the soul, just as in the first theory.
Durandus (or Durand) of Saint-Pourçain is today best known for coining the term “intrinsically evil” acts to describe those actions that are always wrong, regardless of one’s intentions or the circumstances, although the concept itself certain predated him. But this was hardly his most important contribution to theology. Durandus was born some time in the early 1270s and died in 1334. He studied theology at the University of Paris in the early 1300s at a time when many of the theologians there were raising criticisms of Thomas Aquinas’s theology (for example, the Franciscan John Duns Scotus was lecturing in Paris at that time). Durandus himself lectured on Peter Lombard’s Sentences in 1307 and 1308, raising criticisms of Aquinas on a number of issues, including original sin.
Unfortunately for Durandus, in 1309 the General Chapter of the Dominican Order mandated the teaching of Aquinas’s theology within the order and sought to sanction those who deviated from those doctrines. Copies of Durandus’s transcription of his lectures on the Sentences had spread within the order, arousing suspicion. He composed a second version of his Commentary on the Sentences, hoping to soften his stances and respond to his critics, but it was too late. In 1314, a commission established by the Dominicans censured several propositions drawn from Durandus’s writings, including his teachings on original sin.
Ironically, in 1313 Pope John XXII (who resided in Avignon) had appointed Durandus to the role of Master of the Sacred Palace, a position reserved for Dominicans which essentially involved lecturing on theology in the papal court for the benefit of the Curia. In 1317, the pope likewise consecrated Durandus as a bishop. Now essentially free from the supervision of his order, by 1327 Durandus wrote a third version of his Commentary, restating and further developing his original theses.
When considering original sin, Durandus considers the Augustinian-Thomistic theory of physical transmission implausible. For one, he argues that the “body” or “flesh” of the new person does not exist until the latter’s soul is created; it’s not clear why the supposed corruption of the sperm, an accidental quality of the latter, would transfer to the new body, which has a different substance (in the Aristotelian sense). Secondly, and perhaps more importantly, the Augustinian-Thomistic theory that proposes that the corrupted flesh “infects” the new soul seems to suggest that the flesh informs the soul, when in fact it is the soul that informs the body! Durandus argues that there is no intelligible way of explaining how corrupted flesh could create original sin in the newly created soul.
How, then, is original sin passed on from parents to child? Durandus’s solution is much simpler than the Augustinian-Thomist one. He argues that the original gift of grace was given by God not simply to Adam individually, but to human nature considered as a whole. That original grace would have been passed on to future generations, had Adam not sinned. Having lost that grace, however, Adam could not pass it on to his progeny, and therefore at birth we likewise suffer this loss or lack of grace.
Durandus further argues that, because we inherit original sin as a lack of grace, it doesn’t make sense to speak of original sin as something for which we are culpable. Somewhat confusingly, however, he concludes that even if we are not culpable for original sin, it still represents a kind of guilt rendering us deserving of punishment. He essentially argues that we can be justly held liable for the sin of another (in this case Adam), and therefore worthy of punishment, even if we don’t share in the culpability for the sin.
This last conclusion was the primary focus of attack for Durandus’s Dominican confreres. They reasonably countered, how can someone be held liable and punished for something for which they were in no way culpable? Indeed, two and a half centuries later, the Council of Trent insisted, in its Decree on Original Sin, that this sin “is in each one as something that is his own.”
Despite this dead end, Durandus had landed critical blows against the traditional theory of original sin’s physical transmission and had shown that there were alternative ways of thinking about how original sin is passed on. Modern Christians may find his arguments satisfying for a number of reasons. For one, even within the terms of medieval scholasticism, he raises powerful criticisms of the theory of physical transmission, as his opponents admitted. Second, given our modern understanding of human embryology, it is heartening to find a medieval theologian who attempted to render the doctrine of original sin independent of the then current, but now outdated, medieval theories of embryonic formation. In other words, the doctrine is not fatally dependent on outmoded biology. Finally, Durandus’s arguments help dispel lingering suspicions attached to the traditional understanding of original sin that there is something morally suspect about the body or sexuality.
Durandus was, unsurprisingly, not the only theologian raising criticisms of the Augustinian-Thomistic theory at the time. The slightly older John Duns Scotus raised similar criticisms of the theory of physical transmission and likewise proposed a different way of thinking about Adam’s original state and the effects of original sin. Scotus’s thinking went on to influence his fellow Franciscan William of Ockham (who was from the generation after Durandus), whose work in turn influenced the second “rogue Dominican,” Robert Holcot, who will be considered in the next installment of this series.
Let me know in the comments if you found any of this helpful, or if you have any questions!
I’ve done more extensive background research for this series than usual, so I want to make sure I acknowledge my sources:
Dezza, Ernesto, OFM. “Original Sin According to John Duns Scotus.” In Franciscan Studies 79 (2021): 111-32.
Vollert, Cyril O., SJ. The Doctrine of Hervaeus Natalis on Primitive Justice and Original Sin: As Developed in the Controversy on Original Sin in the Early Decades of the Fourteenth Century. Rome: Gregorian University, 1947.
Of Interest…
The author
has some thought-provoking reflections tying together President Donald Trump and Vice President JD Vance’s recent contentious meeting with Ukrainian president Volodymyr Zelenskyy, abuse and trauma, and Christ’s passion at her Substack Questions, Disputed and Otherwise (and also published at Where Peter Is). She articulates something I’ve been thinking about, as well, regarding the undercurrent of the experience of physical abuse in our current political discourse, but her incorporation of the Christological element is superb. I subscribed to her newsletter and look forward to reading more of her work!I’m also happy to recommend theologian
’s reflection on this Sunday’s Gospel reading on the temptation of Christ by Satan in the desert at his Substack newsletter Okeydoxy. He offers a close reading of the text with some fresh insights!
Coming Soon…
Over the past few weeks, journalist John Grosso, writing at the National Catholic Reporter, has published some criticisms of Bishop Robert Barron of Winona-Rochester, Minnesota for his lack of criticism of certain Trump administration policies (for example, regarding immigration and cuts to foreign aid) that violate Catholic teaching on human dignity and that are causing significant harm to the Church’s charitable agencies, and for the bishop’s release of a video discussing his recent visit to Washington, DC, including his attendance at President Trump’s address to a joint session of Congress. I think there are valid criticisms that could be made of some of Bishop Barron’s remarks on social and political issues, and I’ve certainly called on the bishops to more openly oppose certain Trump administration policies, but I also think that some of Grosso’s criticisms of Bishop Barron are unfair. So, what’s going on with Bishop Barron and the Trump administration? I hope to offer some thoughts later this week in an article for paid subscribers.
Of course, I’ll publish a second installment of this series on “rogue Dominicans” and their views on original sin soon. My intention is to discuss both Robert Holcot and Ambrogio Catarino Politi, although if it grows too lengthy, I might discuss Holcot alone and save Politi for a third installment.
As I mentioned last week, I also plan on writing my third annual commentary on the plenary addresses from this year’s Los Angeles Religious Education Congress. I’m not sure if that will come before or after the second installment of the Rogue Dominicans series.
Hi, Matthew. Questioning the word "rogue": what if our unity is in the search for truth about the ineffable God? The norm is the desire for truth, and charting different intellectual pathways is not rogue from that norm. I know what you mean, but for a long time I have been thinking that one of our major problems is designating difference, especially difference from Aquinas, as rogue. Thanks for your good work on these Dominicans.
Very interesting! Enjoyed this.