In the thirteenth century, one of the most ambitious intellectual projects in Western thought was underway: finding a way to make ancient Greek philosophy speak the language of Christian faith. Few thinkers took on this challenge as boldly – or as creatively – as Bonaventure of Bagnoregio (c. 1221-1274), the Italian Franciscan theologian and philosopher whom the Church would later honor as the Doctor Seraphicus, or Seraphic Doctor. Where others saw a conflict between Aristotle’s naturalism and Christian doctrine, Bonaventure saw a deeper harmony waiting to be articulated. His account of the relationship between mind and body – and above all, his view of the human soul – stands as one of the most sophisticated syntheses of philosophy and theology from the medieval period.
Table of Contents
- Who was Bonaventure?
- Aristotle’s hylomorphism: the philosophical foundation
- Universal hylomorphism: Bonaventure’s key departure
- The soul as the form of the body: a theological interpretation
- The concept of unibilitas: why soul and body belong together
- The soul’s immortality: a theological and philosophical claim
- Predestined union: the body’s place in salvation
- Bonaventure vs. Aquinas: a crucial comparison
- Divine illumination and the mind’s ascent to God
- Why Bonaventure’s synthesis still matters
Who was Bonaventure?
Born Giovanni di Fidanza in central Italy, Bonaventure arrived in Paris around 1235 to study at the newly chartered University of Paris, where he encountered the full force of newly recovered Aristotelian texts and their Arabic commentators. He joined the Franciscan Order and eventually rose to become its Minister General. He was canonized in 1482 and declared a Doctor of the Church in 1588. Unlike his contemporary Thomas Aquinas, who sought to give philosophy a degree of autonomy from theology, Bonaventure firmly believed that any philosopher who lacks the light of faith is bound to fall into serious error. For him, philosophy and theology were not separate roads but two lanes of the same journey toward God.
Aristotle’s hylomorphism: the philosophical foundation
To understand Bonaventure’s account of the mind-body relationship, we need to start with Aristotle’s doctrine of hylomorphism – the view that every physical entity is composed of two inseparable principles: matter (hylฤ) and form (morphฤ). According to this doctrine, matter is pure potential – it has no definite character on its own – while form is the actual, determining principle that makes a thing what it is. Applied to living beings, the soul is the form of the body: it is what makes a body alive rather than merely a heap of biological material.
Aristotle’s framework was brilliant for explaining natural change, but it created a theological problem. If the soul is simply the form of the body, what happens to it at death? In a strictly Aristotelian reading, a form cannot exist apart from the matter it organizes. This would make the soul mortal – incompatible with Christian teachings on immortality, resurrection, and the soul’s eternal destiny. Bonaventure was acutely aware of this tension, and his response to it is where his originality really shows.
Universal hylomorphism: Bonaventure’s key departure
Rather than simply adopting Aristotle’s hylomorphism and hoping the theology would follow, Bonaventure modified the framework at a fundamental level. He advanced the doctrine of universal hylomorphism – the position that all created things, not just physical bodies, possess matter and form. As the Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy explains, this included even angels and human souls separated from the body. In Bonaventure’s system, even purely spiritual beings are composites of a kind of spiritual matter and their specific form.
This was a radical move. The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy notes that for Bonaventure, matter gives independent existence (existere) to form, while form gives the act of being (essendi actum) to matter. The key implication: because the human soul has its own spiritual matter, it is not simply a dependent property of the body. It can, in principle, subsist on its own – even after the body’s death. Bonaventure thereby preserved the Aristotelian insight that the soul is the body’s form while also defending the Christian conviction that the soul survives bodily death.
This also set Bonaventure apart from the purely Platonist position. He was not saying the soul is a separate substance imprisoned in a body (as some readings of Plato suggest). The soul is genuinely the form of the body – it organizes, animates, and perfects the body. But because it has its own matter-form composition, its existence is not exhausted by this organizing function.
The soul as the form of the body: a theological interpretation
So how does Bonaventure bring Christian theology into this philosophical framework? The key move is his insistence that the human soul is created directly by God. This is not just a theological add-on to an otherwise Aristotelian system – it fundamentally shapes how Bonaventure understands what the soul is and what it is for.
In standard Aristotelian biology, the soul emerges as the organizing principle of a living body through natural generation. Bonaventure rejects any reading that makes the rational soul merely a product of natural processes. For him, each human soul is an immediate divine creation – brought into existence by God specifically to be united with a particular body. This means the soul-body union is not accidental or arbitrary. It is part of God’s eternal design for each human person. Humans are not random combinations of matter and form, but beings created with a specific purpose (telos) that encompasses both their bodily and spiritual dimensions.
This theological framing also connects to Bonaventure’s broader metaphysics of creation. He held that creation’s core principles – emanationism, exemplarism, and consummation – are all rooted in the second Person of the Trinity. Everything in creation reflects a divine exemplar – an idea in the mind of God – and is oriented toward return to God. The soul, as the highest expression of this pattern in the created order, carries this dynamic most intensely.
The concept of unibilitas: why soul and body belong together
One of the most technically precise and philosophically interesting features of Bonaventure’s anthropology is his use of the concept of unibilitas – usually translated as “unibility” or “the capacity for union.” Scholars writing in Project MUSE have identified this as the key to understanding Bonaventure’s account of human nature. The problem Bonaventure faced is this: if the soul has its own spiritual matter and form, and is therefore a complete substance in its own right, how can it genuinely unite with the body to form a single human being – rather than just being a soul attached to a body?
Bonaventure’s answer is that the human soul has a built-in capacity – unibilitas – to become one substance with a body. This is what distinguishes human souls from angels. Angels, too, are spiritual composites of matter and form. But their form cannot serve as the substantial form of a physical body. The human soul’s form, by contrast, is specifically suited to organize and perfect a material body. Unibility is therefore the defining difference between humanity and angelhood in Bonaventure’s metaphysics: the human soul is the kind of spiritual substance that belongs in a body, not as a prisoner in a cell, but as a perfecting principle in the material it perfects.
The soul’s immortality: a theological and philosophical claim
Bonaventure’s commitment to the soul’s immortality is both a philosophical argument and a theological conviction. Like Aquinas and other prominent 13th-century thinkers, Bonaventure believed it is possible to prove the soul’s immortality through rational argument. His main argument appeals to the human soul’s natural desire for perfect happiness. Following Aristotle’s account of happiness in the Nicomachean Ethics, Bonaventure argued that the rational soul finds satisfaction only in the knowledge and love of Divine Being – a satisfaction that no finite or temporal good can provide. If this desire is genuine and not illusory, the soul must be capable of attaining its object, which requires immortality.
But Bonaventure goes further than a purely philosophical argument. In his Commentary on the Sentences, Bonaventure insists that even after death – when the soul is separated from the body – the possible intellect, the faculty that receives and retains intelligible content, remains fully part of the soul. This is a direct rejection of the Averroist position that the intellect is a single, shared substance external to individual human beings. For Bonaventure, each person’s soul retains its rational powers after bodily death, which is a precondition for personal judgment and resurrection.
The soul’s immortality is not, for Bonaventure, an endless continuation of mere individual existence. It is oriented toward a final union with God – the consummation of the soul’s entire journey. This is why the soul’s immortality cannot be understood in isolation from its divine origin: the soul is immortal because God created it for a purpose that transcends its earthly life.
Predestined union: the body’s place in salvation
A distinctive feature of Bonaventure’s theology is that the body is not simply an obstacle to the soul’s journey toward God. In his Breviloquium, Bonaventure describes the body as a kind of dwelling built for the soul by the supreme Architect – suited to the soul’s earthly life and its journey toward merit. The soul lives on earth by reason of the body; and the body will one day live in heaven by reason of the soul. This reciprocal relationship runs through Bonaventure’s entire anthropology.
The union of soul and body, in Bonaventure’s view, is not accidental or contingent – it is part of God’s eternal plan. The soul is created for embodiment, and embodiment is part of the human vocation. This is why the Christian doctrine of bodily resurrection matters so much to Bonaventure’s philosophical framework. The resurrection is not the soul’s escape from the body but the restoration of the full human composite – the return of the whole person, body and soul, to the perfection God intended.
Recent scholarship by Rachel Davies has drawn attention to the undervalued role that Bonaventure assigns to the body in the self’s coming-to-be. Rather than portraying the body as the soul’s enemy – a common reading shaped by later dualist interpretations – Davies argues that for Bonaventure, the soul’s contemplative journey actually involves a recovery of the body. Suffering, fragility, and physical limitation are not simply obstacles to holiness; they are spaces where grace can work.
Bonaventure vs. Aquinas: a crucial comparison
It is instructive to compare Bonaventure’s position with that of Thomas Aquinas, his near-contemporary and intellectual rival. For Aquinas, the soul is the substantial form of the body – full stop. The soul has no matter of its own; it is a pure form that exists only as the organizing principle of a living human body. This makes Aquinas’s position cleaner in one respect: the soul-body union is tight and natural. But it creates its own difficulties: if the soul is purely a form, its subsistence after death requires a special explanation, which Aquinas provides through his account of the soul as a subsistent form.
Bonaventure’s universal hylomorphism gives the soul a stronger basis for independent existence – it has its own matter – but at the cost of making the soul-body union philosophically more complex. This is precisely why the concept of unibilitas does so much work in his system. As scholars have noted, Bonaventure was entirely aware of the tension between describing the soul as a complete substance and maintaining that it genuinely unites with the body as one human person – and unibilitas is his answer to that tension.
Divine illumination and the mind’s ascent to God
Bonaventure’s account of the soul does not stop at its relationship with the body. The soul, for him, is also the site of an epistemic journey. He proposed a synthesis of Aristotelian abstraction and Augustinian divine illumination: the mind acquires knowledge by abstracting concepts from sense experience, but its ability to make certain judgments about truth depends on a divine light that cooperates with the human intellect. God is not replacing the intellect – the agent and possible intellects do their proper work – but divine illumination ensures that the mind’s grasp of immutable truth is genuine and not merely an educated guess.
This epistemological framework connects directly to Bonaventure’s masterwork, The Soul’s Journey into God (Itinerarium Mentis in Deum). The journey begins with the mind’s reflection on the external world – creation as a trace (vestigium) of God – moves inward to the soul as the image (imago) of God, and finally ascends to God directly. The soul’s capacity to make this journey is not just a matter of intellectual skill. It requires moral purification, the infusion of grace, and the proper ordering of the soul’s three powers – memory, intelligence, and will – which Augustine had identified as the inner image of the Trinity.
Why Bonaventure’s synthesis still matters
Bonaventure’s integration of Aristotelian hylomorphism with Christian theology is more than a historical curiosity. It represents a serious philosophical attempt to answer questions that remain live today: What is the relationship between the physical brain and conscious experience? Can a person survive the death of their body? Is the body essential to personal identity, or merely instrumental? Bonaventure’s answers are thoroughly medieval in their theological assumptions, but the conceptual tools he deploys – form, matter, substance, unibilitas, illumination – are precise enough to reward careful philosophical engagement. Contemporary philosophers working on hylomorphism have noted that this ancient and medieval framework offers a genuine alternative to both materialism and Cartesian dualism in the philosophy of mind – one that takes seriously both the embodied character of human life and the irreducibility of rational consciousness.
Bonaventure’s vision is of a human being who is neither a ghost in a machine nor a sophisticated biological robot, but a creature whose body and soul are ordered to each other by divine design – and whose ultimate vocation is not the soul’s escape from matter, but the transformation of the whole person in the presence of God.
What do you think? If the soul and body are genuinely ordered to each other by divine design – as Bonaventure argues – does that change how we should think about the moral and spiritual significance of bodily experience? And is a framework like Bonaventure’s universal hylomorphism, which tries to preserve both the soul’s independence and its genuine union with the body, more philosophically compelling than either strict dualism or strict materialism?
References
- https://iep.utm.edu/bonaventure/
- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bonaventure
- https://www.britannica.com/topic/hylomorphism
- https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/bonaventure/
- https://muse.jhu.edu/article/228796/summary
- https://brill.com/view/journals/viv/59/1-2/article-p10_2.xml?language=en
- https://levipingleton.substack.com/p/bonaventures-breviloquium-and-the
- https://www.cambridge.org/us/universitypress/subjects/religion/theology/bonaventure-body-and-aesthetics-salvation
- https://www.amazon.com/Bonaventure-Classics-Western-Spirituality-Paperback/dp/0809121212
- https://mindmatters.ai/2024/02/a-philosopher-explains-how-the-soul-relates-to-the-body/
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