Neoplatonism

The term Neoplatonism refers to schools of thought that share a type of reception and reinterpretation, or partial revitalization, of the Platonic legacy. As a historiographical category—coined in the 19th century—it encompasses different moments in the history of philosophy in which this particular form of Platonism manifests itself.

Classical Neoplatonism emerged in the Roman Empire, within the context of Hellenistic culture in the 3rd century, as a new version of Platonic philosophy resulting from the decline of materialist or corporealist thought such as Epicureanism and Stoicism. Ammonius Saccas can be identified as a founder of Neoplatonism, but it was through his disciple Plotinus that it became the dominant philosophical current of the era. His vision offered a comprehensive understanding of the universe and the place of humankind within it. Three distinct phases can be distinguished in Neoplatonism after Plotinus: the systematic work of his student Porphyry; the hieratic turn of Iamblichus and his school in Syria; and the flourishing of the Academies of Alexandria and Athens in the 5th and 6th centuries before their closure by Emperor Justinian. From this latter period, the diadochus Proclus stands out for the influence conveyed by his biography and the reception of his works, as does Damascius as the last schoolmaster.

These philosophers represent a current of thought that, while strongly influenced by Plato, does not seek a strict return to his works and even distances itself from some of his theses. In this sense, regarding the relationship between immanence and transcendence—and in contrast to dualistic interpretations of Plato’s thought—Neoplatonism fundamentally maintains that all reality derives from a single principle, the One, which also bestows rational order upon the cosmos. For Neoplatonism, universal knowledge is possible, encompassing not only reason but also mystical experience, which gives rise to its doctrine of theosis, the return to the One. Dionysius the Areopagite and his Corpus fit perfectly within the framework of Neoplatonic thought, but from a non-syncretic Christian perspective.

Specialized studies have highlighted the importance of Neoplatonic influence not only on Renaissance humanism, but also on idealism, universalism, and contemporary spiritual movements.

Corpus Dionysiacum

The Corpus Areopagiticum or Corpus Dionysiacum (CD) consists of four treatises and ten letters (identified by number). The treatises, transmitted as Greek manuscripts, are commonly known by their Latin titles. In the order of their reception, they are: De caelesti hierarchia (CH), De ecclesiastica hierarchia (EH), De divinis nominibus (DN), and De mystica theologia (MT).

Many scholars still disagree about the actual order of composition and the interdependence of the texts. One interpretative line tends to single out the DN as distinct from the rest, while another links the MT with it, separating both from the CH and EH, which in either case remain associated with one another.

The CD is a body of writing at once singular and remarkably brief, yet dense and obscure. Given the absence of a precise biography of the author of the Corpus—beyond speculations about his identity—the relationship with his sources depends upon strong evidence of connection through cross-reference, structural correlation, discourse, and, above all, morpho-syntactic analysis of texts. In this regard, the most recent critical editions by Suchla and Heil-Ritter are especially significant; secondarily, one may note Chevallier’s compilation of Latin translations, as well as the philological value of Cavallero’s Spanish versions, which offer a more literal translation accompanied by an excellent linguistic apparatus.

Suchla defines the CD as “a self-contained collection of treatises and letters.” To grasp its physical scope: in standard font and normal line spacing, a complete edition without apparatus or citations scarcely reaches two hundred pages (approximately 6,300 lines). In the Paris codex, it consists of exactly 216 parchment folios. The treatises, which make up nearly the entirety of the CD (about ninety percent), belong to the Greek literary genre of dialogue, with dedication to the interlocutor. The epistles, curiously for someone seeking a quasi-apostolic “imposture” by addressing disciples of the first century, do not—except for Epistle X—follow the canonical structure of evangelical letters (opening salutation, body, and final doxology), but rather adopt the literary format of Hellenistic epistolary tradition.

The specific weight of the MT within the Dionysian system is enormous, considering that it consists of only a few pages—about three percent of the total Corpus. As for the most extensive treatise of the CD, on the topic of divine names, Dillon has already presented it as a discussion rooted in ancient philosophy, taken up by Plato in two of his works—Cratylus and Parmenides—and received from the latter by Proclus, as well as by Dionysius. However, as Louth maintains, the intention of the author of the Corpus differs from that of his predecessors: it is to set forth in an ordered manner the divine names that manifest God’s causality with respect to creatures.

Humanidades Digitales

Digital Humanities (DH) is an interdisciplinary field that combines the use of technological tools with traditional methods and approaches from the humanities.

The central objective of DH is the analysis, interpretation, preservation, and dissemination of knowledge related to the social sciences and disciplines such as literature, linguistics, philosophy, and the arts, using technologies such as artificial intelligence, data mining, network analysis, data visualization, interactive databases, among others.

This approach transforms the way we research and teach within the humanities. In addition to opening new lines of inquiry, it enables the exploration of questions that were previously inaccessible or hardly feasible to investigate using traditional tools.

The scholarly community considers Roberto Busa to be the founder of DH. During the 1940s, this Italian Jesuit employed computational techniques to carry out the lemmatization of the works of Thomas Aquinas. His work later resulted in the well-known Corpus Thomisticum. Since then, work with linguistic corpora has been one of the prominent areas within Digital Humanities.

DH has gained global relevance over the last decade for several reasons. New forms of research and analysis: digital technologies enable scholars to conduct large-scale analyses of texts, images, and historical data. For example, social network analysis in historical contexts or the processing of large literary corpora facilitates discoveries that would have been impossible using manual methods. Access to and preservation of cultural heritage: the digitization of historical archives and museum collections, together with digital preservation tools, ensures access to fragile or dispersed materials. This has transformed research in fields such as art history, archaeology, and literary studies by facilitating both access to and conservation of primary sources. Democratization of knowledge: Digital Humanities not only serve the academic community but also expand public access to knowledge. Digital tools such as open learning platforms and digital libraries promote free access to scholarly materials and historical resources.

ABOUT dionisio

Dionysius—at one time nicknamed “Pseudo-Dionysius” or “the Pseudo-Areopagite”—represents, for multiple reasons, a singular exception in the history of philosophy and theology. According to current scholarship, the earliest trace we possess of his works appears in three brief citations by Severus of Antioch: two in the polemic against Julian of Halicarnassus, and the last in the third letter to John the Hegumen. Severus held the patriarchate from 512 to 518, although the exact dating of his correspondence varies according to the sources. References to Dionysius also appear in intermediate dates within the presumed range for those three citations, including in the Syriac texts of Severus, in his participation at the Council of Tyre (513), and in the Commentary on the Apocalypse by Andrew of Caesarea (c. 520).

The first reference attesting to the existence of a Corpus Dionysiacum in the Christian East appears in a highly circumstantial manner. It is cited in the response letter of the Monophysites—precisely the followers of Severus—to Emperor Justinian’s Collatio cum Severianis (527–565) in the year 532. The meeting sought reconciliation and invited a public debate in 533, known as the Synod of Constantinople. In this context, the citations from the Corpus are presented as writings whose originals would date to the first century and whose author would be none other than Dionysius, converted by Paul of Tarsus in his speech at the Areopagus. Amid the controversy under discussion, such proof would have conferred quasi-canonical weight, at least to part of the documents presented by the Monophysites in support of their cause.

These writings immediately aroused suspicion among the Chalcedonian orthodox. They asked: why, in four hundred years of Christian tradition, was there clear record of the person, yet none— not even partial—of such significant texts? If this Corpus, received at that time as consisting of four books and ten letters, truly corresponded to the Dionysius mentioned in the Acts of the Apostles—who became Paul’s disciple and, married to Damaris, Bishop of Athens—the quasi-apostolic time and place of such a figure would immediately transfer remarkable authority to the writings.

As textual evidence in its favor, the author of the Corpus presents himself:

1. literally by that name in Epistle VII;
2. indirectly by referring to his personal relationship with several apostles, dedicating his books to the Apostle Timothy and writing letters to Titus (first bishop of Crete)—both disciples of Paul—and to John the Evangelist (in exile at Patmos);
3. through direct references to events of the era, such as the eclipse at Heliopolis in Egypt (at Christ’s death), and claiming to have been an eyewitness of the Dormition of the Virgin alongside James and Peter.

Although this pseudepigraphic claim is implausible for several reasons to be discussed later, from its appearance onward it managed to overcome intermittent suspicions of false authorship for more than a thousand years. The scholia of John of Scythopolis (c. 548), later combined with those of Maximus the Confessor and Germanus of Constantinople; references by the popes—Gregory the Great in Homily 34 (c. 600) and Martin I in the Acts of the Lateran Council (649); and the sending of the Corpus by Paul I to Pepin the Short (c. 760), granted the text full legitimacy for many centuries.

In addition to the inherent challenge posed by a “suspiciously” late appearance and an “excessive” load of Neoplatonic language for certain Christian perspectives, there emerges a complex politico-religious narrative extending across several centuries, oscillating between epic and legend.

One could say that the “legend” begins with the author of the Corpus himself, when he cites—within one of his treatises—a letter of Ignatius of Antioch dated approximately to Ignatius’ death (107–110), which would already place the true Areopagite at an age well beyond a single century. A thirteenth-century chronicle further recounts how Dionysius, allegedly informed of Paul’s imprisonment in Rome, traveled there and was later sent by Pope Clement as evangelizer of the Gauls alongside Rusticus and Eleutherius, where the three were arrested and executed in the year 96. The narrative continues with various prodigies and Dionysian revelations that became highly popular in medieval France. Similarly, Dionysius the Areopagite was identified with Dionysius sent by Pope Fabian—also with those companions—as evangelizer of the Gauls in the mid-third century. This would be Saint Denis, first bishop of Lutetia (Paris), martyred in 270 on the hill later called Montmartre. Thus, if a real identity existed, we would be dealing not only with a figure more than three hundred years old, but one nearly ubiquitous across times and places—and with almost three dates of death. This exaggerated medieval construction derives directly from Hilduin’s Passio Sanctissimi Dionysii, abbot of Saint-Denis from 815 (d. 840), who received the manuscripts of the Corpus delivered by Michael II the Stammerer to Louis the Pious in 827. Hilduin organized a Latin translation (831–835) of questionable quality. His effort was part of a double campaign: to increase the centrality of his abbey, where royal mausoleums and Dionysian relics linked the Frankish kings to the martyr Dionysius; and to support the political will of the Frankish rulers to assert primacy for “their” popes in France in better relation with the East than with Rome.

Without extending further—since the cited sources adequately distinguish legend from historiography—it suffices to emphasize a crucial point: the literary, philosophical, and theological virtues of the Corpus, which survived this double or triple imposture. Any lesser work would have fallen into total discredit and oblivion.

It must also be acknowledged that the text gained increasing authority by appearing in the Acts of the Fifth Ecumenical Council (Constantinople, 553), where Dionysian teachings on angelic hierarchy are referenced; and in the West, at the Lateran Council of 649, where Dionysius is cited extensively. By the Seventh Ecumenical Council (Nicaea, 787), Dionysius was openly recognized as theological authority and criterion for discerning truth.

Thanks to its Parisian reception, we possess the first correct and annotated Latin translation, commissioned by Charles the Bald from John Scotus Eriugena (c. 862–866), who later produced an improved version of great influence. In 1167, John Sarrazin produced his own translation seeking to “westernize” the content further.

At the time of writing this research, the real identity of the author—today presumed to have been a Syrian monk—remains open and controversial. While not central to analyzing the metaphysics of light in the Corpus, it is useful to note that Koch and Stiglmayr independently dated the work based on textual parallels between De divinis nominibus IV and Proclus’ De malorum subsistentia, establishing composition between roughly 476–485 and 518–528. By 532–536 the entire Corpus had been translated into Syriac by Sergius of Reshaina.

Numerous identity hypotheses have been proposed, including Severus, Sergius, Dionysius of Rhinocorura, and even collective authorship. At one extreme, Mazzucchi (followed by Lankila) proposes the “crypto-pagan hypothesis”: that Damascius or members of the Academy sought to preserve Neoplatonic ideas by infiltrating Christian doctrine. Conversely, Mainoldi suggests an editorial team of monks aligned with Justinian’s agenda to strengthen Monophysite doctrine.

Yet direct engagement with the text leaves the impression of a single, overflowing subject animated by one experience and one aim: the theoretical and mystagogical grounding of θέωσις (theosis).

Following von Balthasar, this study adopts the interpretation of a kenotic pseudonym: the choice of “Dionysius of the Areopagus” not primarily to claim authority, but to symbolize the identity and intention of the work—Greek convert, disciple of a Jewish convert. This convergence of traditions—Pauline Christian theology reframed in Neoplatonic language of divinization—pervades the text.

After a period of decline due to correct dating and the “pseudo” label, the twentieth century witnessed renewed interest in Dionysius. The Corpus Dionysiacum now enjoys significant academic attention as a synthesis of sixth-century Neoplatonic philosophy and Christian belief, influential in both medieval and later traditions.

Without summarizing further sections in detail, it can be said that Dionysius emerges as:
– an extraordinary editor of preexisting traditions;
– a master synthesizer harmonizing them without conceptual compromise;
– and an original thinker who revises and completes what he inherits.

His apophatic theology draws heavily from Gregory of Nyssa and the Cappadocians, particularly in the insistence on both the necessity and insufficiency of language concerning God. Dionysius’ method of affirming and negating every divine name to reach higher unknowing—καὶ ἔστιν αὖθις ἡ θειοτάτη θεοῦ γνῶσις ἡ δι’ ἀγνωσίας γινωσκομένη—owes much to Gregory’s theological insights.

Although deeply indebted to Proclus and Damascius, Dionysius fuses Neoplatonic structure with Christian theological commitments, producing what may be called a Trinitarian Christian Neoplatonism.

The present research does not align exclusively with those who emphasize continuity between pagan Neoplatonism and its Christianization, nor with those who stress radical rupture. Rather, it maintains that continuities, ruptures, and genuine originality coexist, reflecting the integrative spirit transmitted by the Corpus Dionysiacum itself.